#but it's 3am over here

[best-underrated-anime]

Propaganda for Vatican Miracle Examiner:

(This is the description on MyAnimeList, is that ok?)

Fathers Josef Kou Hiraga and Roberto Nicholas are Vatican Miracle Examiners who investigate the authenticity of miraculous phenomena reported from all over the world. In every seemingly sacred event lies horrors of hidden conspiracies, mysterious murders, and devil worship. In this battle of good and evil, Hiraga, a scientific and mathematical genius, and Roberto, a polymath in linguistics and classics, must work together to bring the truth to light. Will their friendship and faith endure the evils in their journey to find a true miracle?

A propaganda is not a summary...

[heartorbit]

a mob of emus for an artstyle game on twt! ^_^

[cowboycannibalism]

Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Smashing Pumpkins// Saw 2004// Caged Rat, Soul Asylum// The Jig Is Up, Ice Nine Kills// Rats!Rats!Rats!, Deftones// Hatchet, Movements

I know there's heavy association of Adam with the dog motif (which I love) but I swear I've heard Bullet with Butterfly Wings on the radio way too many times during the last month while thinking about Saw for it to be a coincidence

Rats symbolize impoverishment, disease, the lowest of low.

"He's not a cop. He's a bottom feeder, just like you."

Jigsaw calls him angry and apathetic, and we'll be honest here, he is on the surface. He calls his apartment a shithole, he knows his job is shitty but it keeps him fed, and he's just dragging himself through life because he's pretty much already convinced himself this is as good as its going to get.

But here's the other thing about rats: they will do anything to try to survive. Sometimes, that means just doing what they've been conditioned to do by the world around them.

Have you ever seen a rat backed into a corner? or stuck in a trap? they will scream and thrash violently to try and free themselves.

From the moment he wakes up in the tub, Adam is moving. Throughout the movie, he has a hard time staying still, trying to escape, trying to survive. He is loud and frantic. Even though he is pessimistic about life, he wants to live.

also, to swing back around to the Smashing Pumpkins lyrics in particular, I thought a lot about how Adam mentions his ex, thinking he was "too angry." If you've dug into that song a little, it's interpreted in a lot of ways but a common one is oppression and being stuck in a situation/world where you're aware of escape but incapable of it. Adam knows he should appreciate life more, but what's the point when he lives the way that he does and nothing seems to ever get better? Anger feels like the only option and honestly sometimes it is.

(not to get too political or whatever, but if we never get angry enough to do anything, nothing will ever change. Don't let anyone tell you that emotions don't belong in politics/social issues because that's a fucking stupid take.)

[xieliancore]

a quick sigma i just drew at 2am<3

[nocterre]

don’t like.........don’t read!

[whimsicalcotton]

tfw u gotta rescue ur situationship's situationship from freezing to death. call that polycule bonding <3

[fairy-verse]

: ̗̀➛ The Weeping Horror

➻Warning: Violence and descriptions of body horror, cannibalism, and death

You head down into the depths of Error’s Mountain Halls. It is time to mine for minerals, for gems and treasures, but little have you cared for these things. It is the fun of it all you enjoy, you, a strong, healthy winter fairy.

Pretty you are, like the snow beneath starlight. Handsome you are, like the might of a snowstorm.

Your friends call and cheer for you to hurry up, and one of them calls your name, smiling softly as their wings flutter in delight. You’ve been courting each other, only lightly, to see how interested the other is, but you are beginning to believe they really like you.

They smell wonderful.

Cold is the stone that forms the base of Error’s Mountain Domain, yet never has it bit into you like it does others. You’re made of stronger stuff, with thicker bones and sturdier shoulders. You are so tall, mighty, and perfectly built for working in these mines.

You love the mines.

This is what you were born to do, to mine for metals and minerals that the smiths of your mountain home can use for their crafts. You can make some yourself, of course, every winter fairy can, but it is not your passion. Swinging a pickaxe and seeing stones fly is what you enjoy.

Using your strength is what you love to do.

Is that what made the roof collapse? You cannot recall, the memory is hazy on the best of days, but the dust had made it difficult to see and settle down, and your wings had ached as rocks had crashed upon them, but they hadn’t torn.

The wings of one of your friends had been torn completely off, but so had their arm, and their head. They’d turned to stardust before your eyes, and you’d watched, shocked still.

Your dearly beloved had come for you, weeping with fright but also relief at seeing you alive. You’d wept too, for them, for your friend, for you all that now were trapped down here.

It would be okay. The others would learn about it soon enough.

Help would come.

The cold does not bite into the bones of a winter fairy like it does for those of summer, but hunger will forever gnaw to make its presence known, and for hours—nay, days, or has it been weeks? You cannot remember, but you know you’re hungry.

You’re so hungry.

Your friends are hungry too, and they’ve grown distant as of late. It started small, some of them paced around the small cave, some flew to stretch their wings, and even your beloved began to huddle in a corner by themselves as they mumbled incoherently.

The hunger was bad.

The loneliness was worse.

You try to sit by your friends, but they move away. They can’t look you in the face. Their own faces are so dull, so dark, with sockets appearing sunken and hollow. They look so frightened, so sad, so forgotten, so hungry.

You don’t know why they recoil from you. They are your friends, and your beloved doesn’t wish to speak. They don’t look at you at all, so you weep all alone, crouched in a corner, nothing but cold rock on all sides.

Why does the room feel like it’s shrinking?

You awake to another morning or night, you cannot tell, but your awakening is strange. You blink but all is red, and you cannot see through your right eye. Your head is throbbing and something wet is trickling down your face.

Your friends are fighting over something; something round and mushy, and one manages to put it in his mouth before he starts to chew. He looks like a ravenous animal.

You blink and your beloved stands before you, but something is wrong. You try to speak but they lift their arms and strike you with something heavy. A rock, you think, and it hurts.

It hurts.

I t   h u r t s !

Your skull is struck and something cracks, and you realise that it’d already been cracked open, and you see your friends scramble towards you, hungry; hungry.

The pain and your hunger take hold and suddenly you stand up, grasping your beloved’s neck like it’s nothing but a twig, and you don’t recognise your own hand. It looks like a monstrous claw and as you tighten it your beloved goes limp as stardust begins to fall from their bones.

This time something cracked on them.

Your friends scramble for the dusting body, and your own horror of what you’ve done grows, and grows, and grows until you can no longer think. The pain in your skull increases and your bones ache and you lunge for your friends, and they scream.

There was so much screaming, and the walls continued to shrink.

You think you hear your own screams, but your friends scream louder, and they try to run, to fly, but they cannot get out. You cannot get out.

None of you can escape the horror of the cave-in, and now, you feed.

They called you a monster when they found you, crouched as you were, huddled over a particular pile of stardust, iridescent blood glittering across your broken skull, your face, your hands, your claws.

You nearly killed them all in your attempt to escape the mountain halls.

The rock is still moving closer, trying to trap you again.

You cannot breathe and you groan and roar horrific sounds as knights and warriors hold you down. So many had to hold you down, but it was the sight of Error which made you stop moving, pitiful whines and cries were the only thing you could allow to escape.

And he looked upon you with horror.

What monstrosity had taken place within his domain; what horror had grown from a fairy once so fair?

You wept, for yourself, for your friends, or for the love you’ve lost you cannot say, but you wept and begged for death. You begged your firstborn to release you from the horrors of your own mind, but your wish was not granted.

You needed to be punished for what you’ve done, and death was mercy, but Error took pity upon you; weeping as you were. And so, he said, “My mountain halls shall no longer be your home, but instead I grant you a lifelong service besides their shadows, though beneath the open sky, you shall stay, and there you will guard my kingdom against the wretched big folk; until your death.”

A terrible fate most will say, for what winter fairy lived outside Error’s Mountain Halls. None, save for those who’ve sworn their service to remain out of bounds, ever watchful of hunters who wish them and their kin harm. However, you thought it was both a mercy and a promise of eternal torture.

Mercy, for no longer would you be surrounded by rock, and never more shall you mine in caves for minerals, metals, and precious gems. Torture, for the screams of your friends remained in your mind, and the taste of their bones, their wings yet remained upon your tongue.

What's more, your injuries had left you permanently changed. You’ve grown taller, sturdier, and more dangerous, but your mind is shattered and only a few pieces remain. It is difficult to remember your past, your family…

You remember the screams of your friends, but not their faces, only the taste of them as you fed on their dusting bodies.

You remember the stardust of your lost love, but not their voice, their touch.

…

You cannot remember your name, but a horror of Error’s Mountain Halls you’ve become, and so, Horror shall be your new name.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Horror's theme: Willow's End - Gareth Coker

[narugen-moved]

alright buckle up it’s time for me to spread my hoshina/mina agenda

1. mina being unserious as hell with the most serious face when it comes to hoshina (taking a picture of him being upset over losing kaiju #8)

2. “could you be the one to carve the path for me?” she specifically asked him because of his swordsmanship that every elder/senior in his life had dismissed him for citing it was an end of an era. she’s the only one who believed in him after years of being put down by everybody (even his own family)

3. devotion & loyalty & trust - do i even need to say anything they make me go crazy

i can’t add anymore pics so i’ll word dump properly in another post but wow i’m bonkers abt them 😭 something something thank you for choosing me / thank you for being someone i can rely on

[commandertartarsmoocher]

Enjoying the concert together with

totally not Commander Tartar in disguise

the fallen ice cream!

[kondoram]

learned about dangan ronpa IF and maaaaaaan who knew that id go :'( over mukuro and naegi...

[ratcandy]

hey you hungry home invader! stop raiding our refrigerator!

[uravictory]

in. in honor of bnha being over let me throw in my old old old olddd oldddddddd redesign concepts because i love you women. don't say i never did anything for you women. i'm sorry that you had to be in a manga written by a man, my dear dear women.

[rowanisawriter]

love letter

hades - pat/zag/achilles - 3k words of pining

.

Achilles places his hand over Zagreus’s heart. It pounds under his palm. Blood rushes through this warm body. Achilles has seen enough blood to last a thousand thousand lifetimes but finds himself drawn to it now, that jumping pulse on the side of his neck, the promise of life barely contained in this strange and beautiful body. He kisses the pulse, feels it flickering under his mouth, and whispers into the echoes of the god’s heartbeat, “Let him kiss you here.”

A love letter is sent from the depths of Hades’s House. Somewhere along the banks of the Lethe, someone accepts.

[zkretchy]

Nothing better than having 2 favourite characters who are destined to kill each other every time <3

i say this as if I didn't love almost everyone connected to the Hachetfield-verse but the 50/50 survival chance for either of them is special to me personally okay

[monpetitchattriste]

Oh my god I pick him up

Oh my god she picked me up

[problematicraccoon]

"far longe than forever" from Swan Princess is such a shifting coded song fr