ranunculussy

[ranunculussy]

mr demon of vyrantium

[ranunculussy]

Falin's resurrection just stuck with me, it was such an impactful scene in the story, I just had to draw my version of it. I hope you like it!

If you're interested in buying a print or supporting my me and my comics, you can do so here: https://edeave.etsy.com/listing/1737956022

Thank you 💓

[ranunculussy]

Hannibal scripts are now on TV Writing!

Season 1

Hannibal 1x01 - Aperitif

Hannibal 1x02 - Amuse-Bouche

Hannibal 1x03 - Potage

Hannibal 1x04 - Ceuf

Hannibal 1x05 - Coquilles

Hannibal 1x06 - Entree

Hannibal 1x07 - Sorbet

Hannibal 1x08 - Fromage

Hannibal 1x09 - Trou-Normand

Hannibal 1x10 - Buffet-Froid

Hannibal 1x11 - Roti

Hannibal 1x12 - Releves

Hannibal 1x13 - Savoureux

Season 2

Hannibal 2x02 - Sakizuke

Hannibal 2x03 - Hassun

Hannibal 2x04 - Takiawase

Hannibal 2x05 - Mukozuke

Hannibal 2x06 - Futamono

Hannibal 2x07 - Yakimono

Hannibal 2x08 - Su-zakana

Hannibal 2x09 - Shiizakana

Hannibal 2x10 - Naka-choko

Hannibal 2x11 - Ko-No-Mono

Hannibal 2x12 - Tome-wan

Hannibal 2x13 - Mizumono

Season 3

Hannibal 3x01 - Antipasto

Hannibal 3x02 - Primavera

Hannibal 3x03 - Secondo

Hannibal 3x04 - Aperitivo

Hannibal 3x05 - Contorno

Hannibal 3x06 - Dolce

Hannibal 3x07 - Digestivo

Hannibal 3x08 - The Great Red Dragon

Hannibal 3x09 - …and the Woman Clothed with the Sun

Hannibal 3x10 - …and the Woman Clothed in Sun

Hannibal 3x11 - …and the Beast from the Sea

Hannibal 3x12 - The Number of the Beast Is 666

Hannibal 3x13 - The Wrath of the Lamb

Source: https://sites.google.com/site/tvwriting/us-drama/us-drama-collections/hannibal

[ranunculussy]

the voice of the devil

[ranunculussy]

"....She touched a dagger to my eye, drawing a tear of blood. 'I want this one' she said."

[ranunculussy]

My siblings who died - bg3 comic Durge, Orin

my idea of a durge twin story~

I hope you enjoyed

[ranunculussy]

big fan of romance horror. big fan of terrible people still being loved. big fan of bending morality and turning the grotesque into something beautiful.

[ranunculussy]

Beneath the ice - Masterlist and introduction

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Figure Skater!Reader (fem)

Series word count: 115.4k

Summary: As you train for nationals, your life is turned upside down when several young athletes, including your friend Leah, suddenly go missing and end up dead. The BAU is brought in to investigate, led by unit chief Aaron Hotchner. You're drawn to Hotch as the case unfolds, but when Leah’s body is discovered on the very ice where you train, the danger hits a little too close to home. Now, with a killer on the loose, you're pulled deeper into the chaos, where fear, passion, and the investigation collide in unexpected ways.

Masterlist:

Chapter 1 - First impressions

Chapter 2 - Parallel paths

Chapter 3 - Unsteady footing

Chapter 4 - Echoes of fear

Chapter 5 - Cracks in the ice

Chapter 6 - Fractured trust

Chapter 7 - Breaking point

Chapter 8 - Under pressure

Chapter 9 - Sectionals

Chapter 10 - Cold pursuit

Chapter 11 - The unsub's next move

Chapter 12 - Regionals

Chapter 13 - Rebuilding

Chapter 14 - Time to rest

Epilogue

[ranunculussy]

i love hannibal and his little head tilts. does will’s haunted psyche seem clearer to you at a 45 angle boy

[ranunculussy]

τότε μείνε μαζί μου

"Then stay with me."

Spencer's POV

Synopsis- They say there are 5 stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, I'd like to add one more- Revenge.

Category- Heavy angst, retribution

Warnings- feral Spencer, angry Spencer, grieving Spencer, beating someone half to death, blood and gore, thoughts of violence, actual violence, Spencer goes ape shit the way Hotch beat Foyet. Vivid details of someone's nose breaking, blood, lots and lots of blood, OOC, I paint a very graphic image of Spencer's snap.

Notes- I love writing angst, I don't know why I just hope you enjoy it. And I'll make good on my promise for something tooth-rottingly sweet, so don't get too angry with me <3 This goes out to @slipk-holy for helping me edit, you're the best!!!

Wordcount- 3,123

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer sits in the middle of his apartment, his last words to your lifeless body still echoing throughout his otherwise empty mind.

"I'll wait for you my darling, you better be waiting for me on the other side."

Spencer was not a religious man. But when it came to you, he believed in miracles. He believed that someone out there plucked you from your divine path and placed you in his life. Spencer prayed to whoever had put you in his life to return you. He pleaded to hold you in his arms once more, but there was no answer.

He never believed in the afterlife. He thought of it as nothingness, a lack of consciousness where one ceases to exist on any plane. The idea of holding you, of seeing you once more clung to the fibers of his mind. It kept him from breaking entirely.

So maybe Spencer was a man of religion if only it meant you awaited him with open arms.

He hadn't moved in such a long time, his back aching from the upright and cross-legged position on his hardwood floors. Spencer lacked the motivation to crawl onto the couch or drag his body into the shower. He hadn't had the motivation to do anything really, other than replay the memories he held so dear to his heart.

But as he looked around his apartment, still teeming with the life you lived there, disdain rose up his throat like bile; burning a path through his body until he was boiling over with it.

Your most recent book was still open on the coffee table, the collection you brought with you still mixed with his on the massive bookshelf. Your slippers were still haphazardly strewn across the floor where you left them that morning, the echo of your halfhearted attempt to convince him to call in sick was still so fresh.

He felt something hot and putrid clawing its way out of him, singing every piece of skin and bone it touched on its way out. It was nasty, and vile, leaving a trail of change in its wake. Spencer could feel the mutation in his soul. He could feel the emptiness devour him whole, chewing on his bones for every last morsel he had to offer.

All that was left was a devastating rage. A fury that threatened the world around him. An indignation that promised singed handprints wherever he touched. A wrath so powerful he was no longer the man he was proud of. He was a stranger, an offensive mockery of what once was.

And the best part?

Spencer didn't care.

Spencer didn't care as he stood up and kicked the coffee table into the wall sending glass shattering all over the floor. He plucked the book out of the pile of carnage, not giving a shit about the splinters of glass embedded into his fingertips.

Spencer didn't care as he ripped the pages out of the book, hurling the empty hardback through the window. He watched with a sick satisfaction as the destruction sparkled around him.

Next was his bookshelf, the stories and words he'd share with you when the two of you couldn't sleep now flung across the room. The bookshelf was toppled, and not a care in the world was given as it crashed to the floor.

Spencer was a whirlwind of devastation, a tornado of obliteration so fierce there wasn't a corner nor cabinet that was untouched by rage.

Wherever you lingered, he destroyed. The chair you'd always sit at was slammed into the wall. The mug you favored was shattered against the floor. Every instance of your memory, of your ghost, was annihilated by his hand.

When he got to the bedroom, his chest heaving with firey vengeance, he paused.

Your side of the bed was still crinkled, the indention of your head imprinted on the pillow. Your Kindle was still charging on your nightstand. Your knickknacks and decorations still hung in every corner and on every shelf.

It was like you were just at the store and he should start dinner so it would be hot for when you got home. Like you were in the shower or on call. Anything but dead.

He couldn't tear apart the last remaining proof that you lived, that you had grasped his heart with your bare hands and allowed him the same privilege.

No, he couldn't bring himself to taint the preserved capsule of the life he shared with you with anger. Or sadness. Or the grief that left him raw and vulnerable. He couldn't even step one foot past the doorway.

He closed the door.

There was no use in even trying.

Before he could move on to the bathroom, the itch in his fist for more destruction too tempting for someone so usually non-violent, his phone rang somewhere in the apartment.

Spencer didn't feel like answering it or talking to someone about his wife and the chokehold her death has on him. He was perfectly content in watching his world crumble around him alone.

But it rang. And it rang. And it rang.

In a sudden burst of energy, Spencer marched right up to the source of the maddening noise. His mobile phone was neatly tucked into his satchel pocket, at fifty percent, just the way he left it after unceremoniously tossing the stupid fucking bag to the floor.

Spencer grabbed the phone in one hand and his heaviest lamp in the other. There was something so twisted about the relief that flooded him every time he brought the base of the lamp down on the phone.

His teammates would call it overkill if the phone was a person and the lamp was a knife. They would profile him as someone who was devolving, someone so close to snapping almost entirely that they had to act swiftly. In a way, he was. In a way, he was exactly like the monsters they hunted for the bloodlust that raged through him was for one thing only.

No amount of superficial destruction could keep his need for violence a bay. No, Spencer needed something organic to put his fists through. But for now, the insistent ringing of his phone has stopped, and he felt just a tad bit better.

Until his landline rang.

There was no breaking this phone, the technology old but surprisingly durable. So he only had one choice left if he were to save the last remaining shred of sanity he was clinging to.

"What the fuck is so important that you have to call me every six seconds?!"

He seethes, face hot with ire.

"Woah," J.J, breathes into the phone. "Calm down, Spence. I'm just calling to check up on you."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, Spen-. I'm sorry. I just needed to know you were okay."

Spencer was beyond annoyed, beyond aggravated. He could feel himself splitting at the seems with hatred and violence.

And Spencer didn't care if he was taking it out on his friend. Spencer stopped caring a long time ago.

"Oh, I'm fucking fantastic J.J. Just beaming with joy! It's not like my wife died not even twenty four hours ago. No, everything's happy unicorns and God damn rainbows."

J.J. just sighed.

"Spencer, I'm just trying to be there for you."

He could hear the desperation in her voice. But instead of comforting him like it should have, like it had done in the past, it irritated him even more.

"Sure, thanks."

Spencer was ready to hang up, ready to unplug the phone and toss it out of the broken window. But he heard something in the background, and his attention was once again drawn away from his agony.

It sounded as if someone were speaking to J.J., their tone urgent and dead serious. Spencer couldn't make out the words, but he could make out the importance of them.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. We're just having some problems with an unsub."

He knew exactly who she was talking about, knew why she was purposefully vague with him. And the second it all clicked, the second a plan swiftly formed in his head, he was dead set on a path.

"Okay... just- stop calling me for a while."

He played into the grieving husband shtick, not letting a drop of indignation seep through his voice. Arousing suspicion would nip his brilliant plan in the bud, and Spencer just couldn't have that.

J.J. was hesitant to agree, with her being an amazing friend and all, but ultimately relented. Spencer just needed space is all, at least that's what she told herself.

Spencer gently sat the receiver down, an eerie calm settling over him. It was a rage he'd never felt before, one that guaranteed an end. A retribution.

Revenge.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was easy for Spencer to just walk into headquarters.

Too easy.

Maybe it was because of the pallor of his skin, or the dark bags that had become so much darker. Maybe it was even the shabby robe he still wore; his pajamas reeking of depression.

Either way, Spencer didn't linger for long. The faster he was in and out, the less suspicion he'd raise. The less suspicion he arose, the longer he'd have with his ultimate agenda.

It was calculated perfectly, executed just so. Swiftly enter the building, sadly waving to the guards all the while mumbling about friends, and help, and shoulders to cry on. Sympathy was so easy to wrangle, so easy to manipulate.

They let him in, their eyes downcast to avoid the miserable expression on his face. He should be upset at how easy it was to get in. There really should be more security. But then again, he didn't really care, did he?

He breezed passed the main office, passed the badge check, and into the elevator. Now would probably be the point where reality would hit. Was he really planning on interfering with an ongoing investigation, just to get answers he could deduce himself?

But none of that even registered as he watched the numbers slowly click up.

The lobby leading into the bullpen was empty, void of his friends or the others he knew only in passing. He was alone. The perfect environment to enable his downward spiral.

That collected calmness puppeteered him like a marionette, its hooked claws pulling the strings of his limbs towards the hallway that led to the interrogation rooms.

This is where he heard the commotion of the BAU in action. Hushed demands, muffled yelling, the occasional sigh of frustration. They hadn't noticed him yet, his socked feet concealing his footsteps.

He popped his head around the corner, watching as Hotch, Morgan, and Emily whisper to each other in front of the viewing window. J.J. and Rossi were sitting inside the room, their backs towards the window and their undivided attention upon Dimitri Cain.

Just the sight of the man had his blood boiling, his fingers twitching, and his throat closing around a violent burst of every emotion possible.

Anger- because his wife was dead and he was the man responsible.

Sadness- because he was reminded that he could never look upon the love of his life ever again.

Jealousy- because he wasn't the one in the room, demanding answers and getting them.

Joy- because he was closer to scratching that itch than he thought possible.

J.J. and Rossi exit the room, their faces grim and arms crossed with frustration. The five of them move away from the interrogation room.

"We need to form another plan,"

He heard Hotch say, his voice tight and stern.

The team agreed and left the door in the hands of a guard whilst they plotted. Now was the perfect time. He couldn't believe the luck he was having.

Maybe there was such a thing as the divine.

"You're not supposed to be here, Dr. Reid."

The guard said as Spencer approached.

"I was called in to help, you can ask Hotch but I doubt he'd enjoy being second-guessed."

"I just don't think-"

"Please..."

Spencer pleaded, and the tone he used was genuine this time. There was no manipulation nor tactic to persuade, only unadulterated desperation.

"I need something to do."

The words unsaid seemed to be as loud as those spoken, the guard's face falling with sympathy as he hesitated.

I need something to distract me.

Only a brief second did Spencer play with the idea of attacking the guard. He knew of all the pressure points to swiftly and quietly take him down; it wouldn't be hard to get what he needed.

But the guard stepped aside.

"Thank you."

The heavy door was opened.

Spencer stepped through, his body tingling with a blazing fire.

The door clicked shut.

He was alone with the object of his undoing. The breaker of his world. And there was nothing more dangerous than a desperate man with nothing to lose.

Spencer sat across from Dimirti, the man in question eyeing him with a speculating gaze.

"You're gettin' nothin' outta me."

Dimitri leaned back and blatantly challenged Spencer.

"I just have a few questions."

"Are you even a fuckin' fed? You look like shit."

Spencer unconsciously mimicked Dimirti's stance, staring the man down with an unbreaking mask of tranquil fury. He let his silence answer for him, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in the chair.

"Alright, I see how it is."

"And how is it, Dimitri?"

"It's that reverse psychology shit, not gonna work on me."

Spencer just shook his head.

"Just ask me the stupid fuckin' questions already so I can get this shit over with."

Spencer hummed, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning forward on his elbows.

"Why did you take her?"

"Again with this bitch-"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Eyes wide, Dimitri stilled. Then, realization glided across his face. A slow smile spread, tainting Spencer with its wickedness.

"You're the husband."

It wasn't a question but a mere statement.

You got what you want, I have a husband-

Please! I don't want to die!

Spencer pounced like a lion, toppling the table with Dimitri still cuffed to it. He was lost in the rage, mind, and body willingly subject to the agonizing fury that was slowly becoming a shield.

He couldn't hear anything, not a thought registered. Only the broken screams of his wife as she pleaded to live.

Spencer straddled Dimitri, completly in control as the man beneath him writhed.

Something sick and twisted bloomed inside him with the first punch. With the second, that evil forged a bond with his soul. Once pure and golden, Spencer Reid was now as dark as the blood that seeped from Dimitri's nose.

On the third punch, Spencer could feel the cartilage break. The splintering of his knuckles was nothing but an afterthought to the satisfaction and relief that plagued him.

Dimitri wiggled under him, trying with all his might to kick him off or slide his hands out of the cuffs. But Spencer kept going.

He brought his fist down again, Dimitri's face already swollen beyond recognition. The deep burgundy of Dimitri's blood sprayed across Spencer's face, across his chest, and outward into the air.

Unbeknownst to Spencer, he was giddy. His face stretched in a feral grin, every tooth shining with glee as he continued to pummel Dimitri into the stained marble floor.

Someone was screaming, the ragged and unfamiliar sound muffled like it was underwater. His ears were ringing, adrenaline and undiluted grief pushing everything Spencer ever was deep into an iron box and tossing it down the hole you left in his heart.

It wasn't until he was ripped from Dimirti, that he realized he was the one screaming.

"You killed her!"

Spencer thrashed against the strong body behind him, the grip under his arms unmoving despite his best efforts.

"You killed my wife!"

Feebly, Spencer tried to continue the beating, swinging his long legs towards the motionless body lying on the floor. Something wet hit his face, the sensation shocking his senses back into the present.

Derek was behind him, growling his name like Spencer was a rogue unsub who refused to listen.

He was dragged out of the room, his limbs now hanging numbly at his sides. Cold metal was wrapped around his wrists before anyone even tried talking to him.

Spencer welcomed the bite, savoring the only thing he could feel.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Hotch was in his face, his eyes wide with frustration. The team was behind him, but Spencer didn't even spare them a glance. He just looked past Hotch, unseeing and unfeeling.

"Spencer!"

Finally, he dragged his emotionless gaze towards his boss who was frothing at the mouth with anger.

"I don't know."

"I don't know, I don't know? What do you mean, 'I don't know'? I should fire you!"

"Then do it."

What did he have to live for anyways?

A team that would only look at him with pity? A family that would treat him like he were made of glass, cracked and begging to be shattered.

Hotch huffed a sigh, hands on his hips.

"Listen, kid. I know exactly what you're going through. Vengeance isn't the answer."

"Says the man who did the same exact thing I just did. The only difference between you and me is that you got your retribution immediately."

Spencer hated the look of understanding that creased Hotch's brows, the empathy that threatened to undo all the apathy that was holding him together.

"This anger isn't going to bring her back..."

Spencer knew this. He knew nothing could bring you back. No amount of praying, religious devotion, and possible rituals would bring you back to him.

The simple truth was that he was lost without you.

He didn't know how to live without you by his side.

Something dripped onto his hands clasped in his lap. When he looked up and could see nothing but his swimming vision, he realized he was crying.

An unstoppable sob wracked his body, forcing his shoulders to cave in and his chest to implode. The damn was bursting, his walls cracking with each broken cry.

When he took a deep breath, a feeble attempt to control the crumbling mess that was his mental state, it all crashed around him.

His throat burned with the intensity of his scream. All his grief, all his anger, and sadness, and desolation were unleashed. He curled in on himself, hugging his sides as if he were able to replicate the feeling of your embrace.

The team surrounded him, hushed assurances, and murmured comfort as they all wrapped their arms around him. It still wasn't enough.

It still wasn't you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A/N- This was supposed to cure my writer's block, but it still has its claws in me. I keep comparing my writing and my stories to those I see on my feed and I only get discouraged. But comparison is the thief of joy, so please let me know if you enjoy this. Feedback is very much welcome in any form but I need to know if I'm doing something right.

[ranunculussy]

"wow i was able to study so much today, i deserve a little treat"

buys magnesium capsules

[ranunculussy]

[ranunculussy]

Hey LADS girlies, I hope you're doing well! I’ve put together a well-structured outline that can either be used to email Indold/Papergames/LADS or submitted through in-game surveys. It’s designed for easy copy-pasting, making it simple for people to send feedback. Thanks for your time.

✏️ Love and Deepspace In-Game Survey ✏️

Dear Development Team, I want to express my appreciation for the effort put into Love and Deepspace, but I have significant concerns regarding content gaps, balance issues, and recent event structures—particularly in relation to Sylus and limited-time outfits. Below is a detailed breakdown of these concerns.

1. Content Gaps

Sylus launched with significantly less content compared to the original three (OG3) love interests:

• He only has 1 anecdote and 1 bond story, whereas the OG3 each launched with 3 anecdotes and 2 bond stories.

• His memory selection is severely lacking:

• Sylus launched with only 6 four-star and 6 three-star memories, whereas the OG3 had 18 of each.

• At launch, his memory cards only covered 4 stellactrum colors (Pearl, Emerald, Sapphire, Violet), missing Ruby and Amber.

• Even now, his distribution remains imbalanced: 12 Pearl, 10 Emerald, 7 Sapphire, 2 Violet, 2 Amber, and only 1 Ruby.

This disparity makes it difficult for Sylus players to build affinity and progression at the same pace as those who favor the OG3.

2. Affinity Disadvantage

Due to missing content, Sylus players miss out on a significant 6,300 base affinity points, calculated as follows:

• 300 points per missing 4-star memory

• 100 points per missing 3-star memory

• 250 points per missing anecdote

• 1,000 points per missing bond story

When factoring in affinity gained through ranking up, upgrading, ascending, and awakening, Sylus players are left with a deficit of 32,316 affinity points, making it nearly impossible to reach the same levels as OG3 players without excessive grinding or spending.

3. Resource Inefficiency

Sylus players also face higher resource demands due to inefficient stellactrum distribution:

• His two primary colors (Pearl and Emerald) require resources from two separate bounty hunt battles, whereas the OG3 have their colors consolidated into a single battle.

• This results in higher stamina consumption, wasted time, and overall slower progression compared to OG3 players.

4. Higher Pull for Sylus and Caleb

Sylus, before Caleb, had a pull rate of ~11%-13% versus ~29% for the OG3 in the Silver | Radiant Galaxy explorers. Now, the numbers are as follows:

• Sylus and Caleb now have pull rates of 11%-12% and 7%-8%, respectively, versus 27%-26% for the OG3 in the Silver Radiant Galaxy explorer.

• Before Caleb:

• Silver Galaxy: Sylus 11% (17 / (17+44×3)) vs 29% for OG3.

• Radiant Galaxy: Sylus 13% (13 / (13+28×3)) vs 29% for OG3.

• After Caleb:

• Silver Galaxy: Sylus 11% (17 / (17+44×3+12)), Caleb 7% (12 / 161), OG3 27%.

• Radiant Galaxy: Sylus 12% (13 / (13+28×3+9)), Caleb 8% (9 / 106), OG3 26%.

Yes, each card individually has the same chance to be pulled, but obtaining any Sylus or Caleb card over the OG3 for building teams and/or infinity takes significantly more pulls.

5. Event Issues

A. Tomorrow's Catch-22 – Cumulative Wish Rewards

The event structure for Tomorrow’s Catch-22 compared to Yes, Cat Caretaker creates an unfair spending trap:

• In Yes, Cat Caretaker, the Cat Butler Outfits (with ears and tail included) were available at 75/125/175/225 Wishes.

• In Tomorrow’s Catch-22, the Memory-Themed Outfit and Hairstyle are now separated into different reward tiers (Outfit at 75/125/175/225/275, Hairstyle at 85/135/185/235/285).

• This means players must spend 1,500 extra diamonds just to get the complete look.

B. Savage Overture – Confusing Outfit Distribution

• Players receive "My" Outfit [DreamyHeart] for free, but "My" new Outfit [Night’s Companion]—which is the Memory-Themed Outfit—must be purchased.

• Typically, Memory-Themed Outfits are expected to be free, yet in this event, it has been placed behind a paywall instead.

• This is inconsistent with past event structures, where the new Memory-Themed Outfit should be included in the free rewards, while an additional outfit could be offered as a paid option.

• This shift makes the event feel more like an artificial spending trap rather than a rewarding experience for dedicated players.

Conclusion & Requested Actions

• Address Sylus’s content gap by adding missing anecdotes, bond stories, and memory cards to bring him to parity with the OG3.

• Balance affinity gains so Sylus players are not left permanently disadvantaged.

• Consolidate Sylus’s resource needs in bounty hunts for fairer resource management.

• Revert the event reward structure to the Yes, Cat Caretaker format, ensuring hairstyles and outfits are bundled together.

• Reassess pricing strategies for event-exclusive items to prevent excessive spending pressure.

Sylus players deserve the same content, rewards, and opportunities as OG3 players. I hope the team considers these concerns seriously and implements meaningful changes to improve fairness and engagement in the game.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

[ranunculussy]

who put all these dramatic bitches in the same room

[ranunculussy]

Apparently Lads players in CN are organizing to not spend the first 3 days of the banner. Not only for Sylus and Caleb, but also because Infold is separating the pulls rewards and being greedy, if player let this pass they will accept this as the fandom not caring about them separating cosmetics from outfits and making rewards more difficult to obtain in future banners.

For the upcoming banner (Tomorrow's catch-22), Infold separated the hair from the outfit so people need to pull more (85 for the first) for a cosmetic that should be included in the crate, like Caretaker banner with the butler outfit, ears and tail.

Pls reblog to share the info. Likes don’t work in tumblr like in other apps.

[ranunculussy]

Sometimes, I'm like, "Pesky, stop being delulu. There won't be season 4, there won't be anything new. Hugh and Mads only see that they can make money at cons. That's it. There is nothing more to that", but at the same time:

there is going to be a new movie from Hannibal universe (it is unclear who is going to play Hannibal Lecter or anyone else really)

last year De Laurentiis Entertainment Group's page was updated after many years (at least someone claimed so) and that group worked on every single Hannibal related production

out of blue Hot Topic starts selling licensed NBC's Hannibal T-shirts

Mads Mikkelsen started a film making company

Bryan keeps running into a lot of Hannibal's actors recently

it seems Mads and Hugh are going for another "Hannibal tour" (reunions)

I dunno about it, but people think that Mads acted sus, when he was lately asked about season 4 of Hannibal

And so, I'm actually like:

[ranunculussy]