#short description

[shironezuninja]

Be slow with me for the rest of the week. I won’t reach my full potential creating more collages until the weekend.

[luvclimber]

☆I was bored and I did a little silly- FINALLY A DEMJAY POST☆

[roseombre]

And now my sona as a dragon! Because why not?! I'm on a roll!!!

I think they/she would just scare humans off, accept the treasures to let them live and just being lazy in her cave... Wander around kingdoms to hunt or see how evolves the world!

As a dragon I guess some try to hunt them, but they will just try to lose them, if not they'll fight the hunters off! Their only reason for kiling is if their opponent are actually strong enough or if there are poachers ... They hate them because it unbalances the animal kingdom.

[gallusrostromegalus]

A Miracle In The Night

Sometimes, you get an idea for a lightly fucked up short story. TW: Death, mild gore, Plot Twist :)

---

She travels through the night And listens

Some might call her home dark and cold and akin to the lowest levels of hell, But their heaven burns her eyes and skin and her very breath To her, The Endless Night is Paradise

The whole world was like this once, in the very beginning The Divine Darkness which contains the potential for every tragedy and miracle and everything in between, and she is blessed  to travel through the gardens of creation.

The Night created everything, even God, who lives in the burning world and blesses the sinless beings of the night with the very force of life.

But not even Paradise is free of suffering.

It should be this way, of course- nothing would ever happen otherwise. Everything that happens is a miracle. It’s just a question of who the Miracle is for.

There will be a Miracle tonight. She can feel it- the tension is electric across her skin, gut tightening, every sense on edge.

Starvation leads to such peculiar sensitivity.

She’s on the verge of death-  It should be this way, otherwise nothing could be alive. But she’s closer to the edge than usual.

It’s been so long since she felt the Burning Love of God within her. The delicious taste of good fortune in the night Chasing ecstasy with a racing heart and feeling her body fly The heat in her belly, seeping out through her until it filled her with the Divine Warmth of God’s Love.

It’s been so, so long since she’s eaten.

It’s been uneasy- the breathing of the world has been unsteady of late- too early and too late, out of time like it has become ill and all things suffer for it. There is nothing to partake of in her usual hunting grounds, so she has traveled far, far from home, into a brighter and hotter part of the night.

Here, the protective wall between her and the burning world exists only in scattered fragments, and strange and monstrous things traverse the thin veil between their worlds.

Here, the eternal night has been invaded by noxious, screaming beasts from the burning world above.  They race with their bodies straddling the barrier between their worlds, far faster than anything has the right to fly, howling with a deafening voice that can be heard for hundreds of miles.

It’s a problem because she cannot hear the songs of her prey.

Everything sings, if one will listen. The high, chiming pings of the smallest stars flashing with bioluminescence around her. The long, low songs of the fire-breathers, who hunt here in the abyss for one of her oldest brothers, but return to the barrier and briefly cross it to breathe before they return. Even the earth sings- the moan and crack of her body as she shifts her weight, the almost invisible inhale and exhale of her seasons. She even builds great musical instruments of ash and smoke and an even hotter burning than the world above, singing the tale of the first days of creation in honor of the endless night.

But the behemoths do not sing.

They scream and scream and scream and their piss reeks of vile poison and overexertion. Almost like the way an injured animal can put on a miraculous turn of speed to escape pursuit. What might be pursuing such behemoths is an awful but intriguing consideration. Perhaps the behemoths are the little darting beings of the burning world, and the thing they flee the equivalent of herself. She’s seen it before, when the moon is high and she travels up to the barrier, and the little dancing bodies leap across the barrier to avoid her.

To that end, she can only wish her counterpart good hunting- both in the sympathy between one apex predator and another, and the hope that maybe it will get better at catching the behemoths before they come into her world.

Still, Where there is disturbance, There is also opportunity.

There are rumors from those that live closer to the barrier that the behemoths piss poison but shit out bounties- the wastes of these things are food direct from the burning world, where God lives, and that waste is full of The Divine Warmth of Life. The direct waste is devoured by the smallest and fastest things first, but when they are clustered at their feast, they are easier for the larger beings to partake in, and so too larger things than they until even her most beautiful borderland sister with the belly pale as the moon is now as round as it, fat with the blessing of pups.

So she has ventured as close as she dares to the world of her sisters in hopes of finding the rumored prey so full of the Burning Love of God.

She needs it. She can’t live without it.

A Miracle will happen tonight.

Whether for her or the crawling lives of the deepest night remains to be seen.

She follows the terrible screaming song of the behemoth in silence and prays for a miracle. She does not sing praise when she prays. She preys when she prays.

The highest reverence to The Divine Night is to Listen. To travel in silence, and take in all the songs of The Night.

So she makes herself silent and listens and listens and listens to the screaming song, hoping that somewhere in the noise, she can hear the soft voice of God.

This time God answers with a voice like thunder.

It really is like being too close to a lightning strike, the way the noise viscerally passes through her and lights up every nerve, teeth gritting and body thrashing as she feels the voice of God the same way she feels the body of a lover against her own.

The scream of the behemoth changes. It sputters, then pitches wildly, low visceral injury and high keening pain, like the fire-breathers when they try to hunt the largest of her brothers and become prey themselves.

Oh, what a beautiful song to something like her.

She aches, weak and tired, but hope and joy surge through her and she forces herself to move at speed, even for all the energy it takes, because perhaps the miracle is for her tonight- 

She flies as fast as she can towards the dying behemoth, as does every brother and sister and ancestor and descendant, all as desperate to feast upon God’s Love as she- all of them race forward but then up, and up and up up to where the Behemoth is sinking into their world- It has run upon a fragment of the protective barrier hard enough to tear it's side and break it's back. There is the terrible acrid scent of it’s noxious  piss and if she were not on the verge of starvation it might be enough to put her off the feast.  

But she flies on and up- even weak with hunger she is one of the largest and fastest of her family when she needs to be, so she is the first to smell other strange things from the behemoth- burning flavors that sting her nose and mouth, as well as sweet things that confuse intrigue, and-

Oh. Oh, GOD!

It’s blood but nothing like any blood she’s tasted before- it’s actually HOT in the night, burning with the warmth of the other world even this far from it’s origin, rich and fatty and metallic like the flesh of a fallen fire-breather but even more so.  She spreads her wings and sways her hips and spine to fly as fast as she can, the way a lover pursues her- full of nothing but adoration and a desire to make their bodies as one.

Then in a beam of moonlight, she sees the first of the bodies from the burning world.

The frenzy at the behemoth is a feast for the ages, from the exultant chorus above, and the fact that even with every member of her family for a hundred miles around at the feast, there are so many bodies to feast upon that a body is falling past the festivities to her, uneaten and whole.

What a strange and beautiful body it is.

She pauses, circling it even as her mouth and gut ache for it, studying the being from the burning world.

It’s hot, hotter than any body she’s ever felt before, even though it is very definitely dead, as unsuited to breathe the night as she is to breathe fire. Its wings are long and twist strangely, like the tentacles of her brothers that are hunted by the fire-breathers. It’s awkwardly shaped, like the crawling five-winged creatures of the mud, but not quite.  There is an almost unsettling familiarity to its symmetry.

The fire-breathers say they used to live in the burning world, but returned to the night, and that all the beasts of the burning world had too once come from the night. It had sounded absurd, but looking upon the form of this being now, she wondered.

Well. Only the one thing to do, really.

Gently, she approaches the being, opens her mouth to embrace it, and welcomes it home to the night.

There is no love like the love the predator feels for its prey.  It is reverence made flesh- O holy being, oh virtue to pursue and make one’s own.It is the flesh made reverent- Please, little being of the burning world, let her love you as she loves her own children, the weight of your body deep within her own. 

There is no gratitude like the gratitude a predator feels for its prey. She owes you her life tonight, little being of the burning world. She lives from the mercy of your body alone. It is already a kindness she can never repay to live by your generosity, but oh, you made it so sweet-  Your blood intoxicates her senses, your body thrillingly warm- as agonizing as the fire of the burning world is to breathe in, it’s just as wonderful to swallow.

You are so sweet, so sweet, she will remember this favor forever.

There is no miracle like the divine connection between predator and prey. Oh child of the burning world, you who brings the Warmth of God into The Endless Night, You burning being of God’s Love. She is blessed by you, messenger of God.  Through you she receives the miracle of life.

Welcome, little burning being Welcome home to the night from whence you came Welcome inside her deepest self, and receive her hospitality.

She swallows the little burning being up with adoration, feeling it settle within her. Relief, ecstasy and satisfaction swirl but are interrupted by the appearance of another body. And another And another And another

The Behemoth itself falls, it’s body still curiously dynamic even torn in half- one end dives for the bottom of the night with somewhat alarming speed, where the other glides along to the depths on an angled path, the distant motion still visible with the bioluminescence it stirs up along it’s path. It is massive beyond anything she's seen before, more like a piece of geography than a living organism.

And all along its wake, hundreds of bodies spill forth from inside.

What a strange miracle this is. But she’s not one to refuse God’s Love. And if the beings of the burning world travel in huge schools with their behemoth, the peculiar notion that the little being within her might be lonely occurs to her. …Wow, she’s REALLY drunk.

Still, she eats three more of the burning beings before her guts are almost bursting with fullness, a bizarre sensation she’d only heard about from those who had been fortunate enough to feast on the fallen body of a fire-breather and had to leave the excess to the crawling beings of the bottom. So too, does she watch more bodies descend deep into the night as she returns to her world of darkness and song, the behemoth’s terrible screams now silent with rest, and the choir of the night rejoicing in this miracle.

---

Two miles above the revelry of God’s Favorite Greenland Shark, the survivors of the Titanic prayed into the endless night for a miracle, unaware it had already been granted.

[sparrowlucero]

this is the iconic dinosaur horror jurassic park wishes it was

[lunacias]

(Silence. CARPENTER tries to rally HAYWARD's spirits. She's afraid she's going to lose him.)

"All three of us - we can all go on living, Hayward. Just like you said."

[death-himself]

as someone who’s a very casual watcher viewer (i don’t think i’ve watched any videos in months) as well as being a media major, this situation is so fascinating to me

ghost files costing $50k per episode??? 25 employees??? what do you need a director for to make survival mode? it’s literally just a lets play

seeing people break down their expenses with flight costs, rooming, etc. is really interesting too, i need to ask my professor about this situation, it’s just so wild to me

[venomous-qwille]

The horrifying realisation I never told Tumblr about Cosmic Moonrise. And then the realisation that it involves talking about the Fazteam Cosmic Rangers lore. Oh gee oh man, I'll try keep this as non autistic as possible.

In GITM, fazco made a 80'/90's children's TV anime-like called Fazteam Cosmic Rangers, it's essentially lost media by the time the fic starts in 2055. Cosmic Moonrise is one of the hero characters who became corrupted in the TV show, becoming the villain we know as Noon. That's why he looks different. Noon is a theme park animatronic made to be the villain version of this character.

The noon GITM deep lore.

[raidenenthusiast]

obligatory post before acheron's release

obviously, it's established that acheron is a variant of raiden mei. her real name is not actually acheron (confirmed through the livestream, but...come on, we all already knew that). specifically, there's loads of similarities in her design to the herrscher of thunder above all else

similar hair structure, hair part, n hairpiece (n obviously the color, too),

sword structure, patterns, n nearly identical handles,

one "red" arm,

the bust/halter,

and of course, the color scheme as shown in acheron's "emanator" form, n the horns shown in the livestream

with all that in mind, i imagine acheron is a variant of mei who failed to save the person closest to her (her kiana, to simplify it), n/or watched them die, or even killed them herself. it's shown during her dance with black swan that there was obviously someone important to her in her past, conflict arose in a setting much like the one featured in the livestream, n there's even imagery of her walking alone with only the moon in the sky to keep her company

kiana has been associated with the moon n moon imagery since the flyme2themoon days; her origin was quite literally a game about blasting off to the moon

this teaser resembles thunders over nagazora to me, as well as mei watching kiana's end in honkai gakuen

there's also the fact that the type of emanator acheron is, an emanator of nihility, is classified as a self-annihilator; those who have felt the pull of nihility n been unable to escape drowning in it. self-annihilator's take the meaning of nihility to heart, so much so that it erodes their bodies n memories

acheron has been confirmed as the self-annihilator type in her character introduction posted recently. what really strikes me about this line is the phrasing of "existence is nothing"

sounds familiar, doesn't it?

mei is characterized by the tragedies in her life, n how they impact her. growing up isolated, a kidnapping at a young age, bullying at school, suicidal tendencies, n the constant reminder that the girl she loves more than anything in the world will always put the overall well being of humanity over herself

to me, acheron is a mei shaped by loss. the mei we remember from hi3 had the chance to grow n change; to learn from her mistakes, n to fight for a better world, bc she had the support of her friends n her most important person. acheron doesn't seem to have that level of support from anyone, at least not anyone still in her life currently

which brings me to my next point. she HAD a "kiana," but ultimately lost her. n this is the result

acheron is incredibly powerful, but her power seems incredibly volatile. she carries this innate sadness with her wherever she goes, n the very path she walks n the very aeon she became an avatar of strips life of all meaning, all the beauty from the world

it's a far cry from the mei we know, bc clearly, there was a very pivotal change in her development that i can only attribute to the loss of her world's "kiana"

[madzzz0797]

Just thinking about Daryl pining after reader.

CW: mild cursing, cigarettes, alcohol, implied death of an animal(non specific), implied smut(non descriptive) Daryl is kind of ruining her purity.

!!!MDNI ON THIS POST!!! Also if any of this bothers you please just scroll, your mental health is important to me. 

He is so in love with her it’s crazy. The only problem is she was raised religious and was very sheltered her entire life. Even now in her mid twenties she still is just a pure and kind as ever.

Daryl would be scared at first of breaking her out of her shell. But after he does he shows her all kinds of things. How to hunt and track animals. He took her with him to check some traps he set the previous day. She feels bad and of course she cries a little. “Dammit, I’m sorry darling I never shoulda brought ya with me.” Daryl felt bad so he just hugged he in the middle of the woods. Cradling her to his chest while she sniffed.

He gives her the first cigarette she’s ever had. Daryl was scared that she may choke based on how hard she coughed. He took it away from her. “Pretty women like ya don’t smoke noways.”

After she begged him for days he finally caved and took her for a ride on his motorcycle. He went slower than he normally would but she didn’t need to know that. “You better hold on tight, ya hear?”

She stumbled upon him drinking one night and asked if she could have some. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea doll.” But he knew he could never resist the curiosity in her eyes. And of course Daryl could never say no to his sweet girl. He hesitantly gives her a beer. She gets super happy drunk and Daryl just finds it so adorable.

Her fighting was awful. Poor girl was so afraid of hurting someone she forgot that she also has to protect herself. Daryl eventually convinced her to at least learn how to punch someone. He knew it wasn’t in her character but, “this is the end of the world sweetheart.” After she punched him in the arm like he asked her too he instantly knew they had a long way to go.

He thought her how to ask for what she wants. “Daryl please,” she whined under him. Her breath was ragged and her eyes glossed with tears of pleasure. He looked down at her and smirked.

“Please what? What ya want girl?” He knew exactly what she wanted. But she needs to understand that she has to be able to speak for herself also.

“Please just fuck me Daryl.” As soon as his name left her lips he’s giving her exactly what she was asking for.

As always, feel free to like 💜, comment 💬, and reblog ♻️. It means so much to me every time someone interacts with my posts. Also please send in a request if there is something you want to see me try my hand at writing.

[puhpandas]

beckory comic based off of this line from GGY. i hope you get what im trying to say lol. i was kinda going for tony and gregory trying to NOT be popular for obvious reasons. just like a new way of seeing the line from the book even though this is not what the book meant.

(book snippet under cut)

[krsc2]

1. magnum p.i. for @ghuleh-recs, thank you for the suggestion!

[fredoesque]

Hi all! So, as I have hinted at a few times in the past, I'm making a video game about the Franklin expedition, as my graduation project for art school.

The working title is A Painted Ship on a Painted Sea. The game will be narrative-focused and feature 2D art. You play as a medium investigating Franklin's disappearance while the search for him is still in full swing. You'll speak to the dead. You'll answer to the living.

It's still very early days, but I wanted to invite anybody who is interested to this discord server: https://discord.gg/6PYKR96JH5! My plan is to use it to post updates/bts info and to conduct playtests. You can join if you want to be involved in the creation process, or just want to lurk and see how everything progresses. Hope to see you there :)

[commbowman]

Caution was not a new emotion to them though concealment was. They found new, simple, ways to be upfront without drawing unwanted attention. Actions speak louder than words, don’t they? Besides, it would be too forward of them after months of no contact.

It started as a simple reminder of feelings now remembered… now it was an admission.

All it called for as some slight matter manipulation.

—

He knew the typical paths Frank liked to follow and from there he made his work known. Careful not to make them standout too greatly from the curated grounds or upset the gardeners. It would be noticeable by those who looked for it. A small crop of peony and further down red tulips.

Acacia Blossom

Carnation Pink

Forget-Me-Not

// Halman be direct challenge 3001 (impossible)

Oooooooo 👀

———

It started with acacia blossoms, vibrant pink flowers that he found hidden around his apartment. His only houseplant (well, the only one he managed to keep alive) was an aloe vera plant — Frank found it extremely pretty and was dedicated to its care. But the flowers…? The aloe had grown a tall stalk, but it hadn’t bloomed. Anyway, the flowers were a totally different colour than they should be!

“What’s this?” He mused, turning over the petals to inspect them. They were in pristine condition… likely only picked in the last day or so.

He hadn’t had anyone over, had he? Surely, he’d remember something like that…

The only people to whom he had granted automatic entry were Indra and Dim, but Indra was visiting the Pacifica Tower, and Dim was out by Uranus, so that left a break in or—

“Oh my god…” a grin was plastered on his face, and Frank shook himself for not thinking of the obvious culprit first. Who else could enter his home undetected? Who else would leave him flowers?

He continued with his day, the blossoms tucked safely in his pocket, but found nothing more.

—

“I don’t get it,” he said. “It’s been a few months since we’ve spoken, and yet three days ago I found these flowers in my room.”

“Are you certain it’s-?” Indra began. Frank cut her off.

“-Who else could it be?

“I guess if nothing was stolen…”

“Not a thing!”

They were meeting for Sunday breakfast in a little cafe halfway down Africa Tower. The view out the window was marvellous, and Frank spent the conversation staring outside, only occasionally glancing over to his friend at the other side of the table.

“Are you going to say anything?” She asked.

Frank took a bite of his food before answering, turning over the options in his head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

It was usually better for him to wait things out, rather than jump to conclusions. An admission would come; he just had to be ready.

—

The next morning, Frank woke to find more flowers. This time, they were pale pink carnations intertwined with little blue forget-me-nots, tied together and standing in a crystal vase on his side table. He drubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around. Everything else was untouched.

“Sneaky,” he yawned. “How long’s this going to go on for?”

There was no response.

“Alright, have it your way.”

Frank got up, made himself presentable, and headed straight for the botanical gardens.

[erismornsgf]

me blowing myself up in slow motion... now with music.

[video description: a slow motion video of a player in destiny 2 taking out a rocket launcher to shoot at an enemy wizard when a smaller enemy thrall gets in front of them, causing them both to blow up, set to schubert's "ave maria"]