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mordacitatis · 1 year

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im not much of an artist but had an idea i couldn't shake. so i present: my first fan art of a novel (why yes, it really is that good of a read!)

loosely inspired by this image i found on google (i went a little out of date due to the nature of the family status)

please look upon the (possibly silly) way that my brain read the introduction to Mrs. Collins in chapter ten of Hunger Pangs by Joy Demorra. she's described as pushing through a crowd at the May Ball like the prow of a ship through seafoam, and then im pretty certain it names her dress as being seafoam. i, on my last re-read, pictured her dress as looking instead like the prow of the ship.

some (sort of) seafoam lace as a nod to the more likely color of the dress, and no face or arms because thats a little advanced for me.

#phangs #hunger pangs #fanart #art #my art #please excuse the quality #je ne suis pas un artist #or rather im not yet an artist #anyway thinking of Riya's hallows eve ballgown and thatll probably be my next little drawing

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hivemindofevilbats · 8 months

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someone who has never watched Nimona please explain this picture to me

#nimona #i need this #please explain #i love nimona #please excuse the quality

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toritorisstuff · 9 months

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Why has no one edited Rose or Ethan to Rosemary by Deftones I’m LOSING IT!!!!!!

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numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit · 10 months

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I wrote a very small snippet for my voltron rewrite!!!

Allura stood outside of the door that she knew so well, overwhelmed.

It has been 10,000 decapheobes for the universe, but for her, it had been less than a phoeb.

Another explosion shook the castle, and she picked up her pace, running faster. She could hear the footsteps of Coran behind her, and it reassured her to know that she wasn’t alone in this moment.

When she finally reached the doors to the med bay, she could hear the voice of her brother arguing with someone, but it stopped the moment she and Coran stepped through.

She wrung her hands together, looking at the door. She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to take that final step to enter, but she’s frozen in place.

Melchor turns to look at her, and he hides any signs of distress on his face. Allura knows he does this to reassure her, but she can’t fathom why he would try to hide it at a time like this.

“Allura-“ Melchor starts, but Allura cuts him off.

“Melchor, why did you tell me to come here? Is anyone injured?” She asked when she noticed two empty cryo-pods sticking out of the ground.

Her brother didn’t answer, hesitating and looking behind her to Coran.

Melchor rarely hesitated when speaking.

Something was wrong.

Melchor took a breath, and moved his eyes back to hers. “Allura, there seems to be an issue with some of the cryo-pods. They need to be fully operational for anyone who needs them. You and Coran know the pods much better than I do, so I called you here to take care of them.”

That’s…a rather odd thing to for him to summon her and Coran for so urgently. She looks back to Coran, who seems to be none the wiser to the strangeness of the situation.

It should be so simple to step through the door. But she can’t. She feels pathetic.

Allura inspects one of the pods, Coran doing the same to the one beside her. She tries to find any sign of anything wrong when a hand falls on her shoulder. She looks behind her to Melchor, who has an oddly determined on his face.

“Melchor, what- oh.” Allura is cut off when her brother brings her into a sudden hug. He holds her tightly, only making the strange feeling she’s had since she’s entered the med-bay stronger. She brings her arms up to return the embrace, and looks towards Coran who is watching them with a pained expression on his face.

She’s a princess, and a part of Voltron. A room shouldn’t be causing her so much distress, and yet here she is.

Before Allura can even ask Coran what’s wrong, another distant explosion sends a shockwave through the castle. Melchor breaks the embrace, hands on her shoulders and a determined look on his face, his eyes that are exactly like her own holding a deep pain.

“Allura, I hope that one day, you can forgive me for what I’m about to do.” She feels her heart drop, and she’s suddenly shoved backwards into the cryo-pod.

“Melchor, what are you doing?!” She goes to step out, but the glass of the pod comes up, effectively trapping her in.

She sees Melchor start pressing some buttons outside of the pod, and her eyes move towards Coran, who doesn’t seemed surprised at all.

It finally clicks.

She looks back to Melchor, and hits her hand against the glass. “Melchor! You can’t do this!”

Melchor looks at her, and she can feel the pod getting colder. She hits her fist against the pod.

“Please! Don’t do this!” Allura continues to hit the glass, trying desperately to break the glass even though she knows that it won’t break. She has to try.

Allura knows that he isn’t here anymore. Her and Coran are the last Alteans left, but somehow, it feels that if she doesn’t walk through the door, she can still pretend.

She feels her movements getting more sluggish as she watches Melchor guide Coran inside the other pod.

“Melchor!” She doesn’t want him to do this.

Melchor steps back once he’s done configuring Coran’s pod, and he looks at her again.

She can feel herself growing more and more sluggish, her vision fading, the cold bearing down on her now.

“Please, forgive me.”

Then, everything went black.

Allura steels herself, and walks through the door.

It’s just like it was 10,000 decaphoebs ago. All of Melchor’s things are left exactly as they were, his bed still unmade, his desk chair left at an odd angle. It looked as if he had simply gone out that morning, if you ignored the layers of dust that had built up in the room.

She walks towards Melchor’s desk, and she sees his small projector still on the desk. She picks it up, carefully blowing off the dust from it before activating it.

A picture of her and Melchor shows, and she immediately turns it off, closing her eyes and gripping the projector in her hands. She can’t bring herself to see it.

“How can it be that it’s been ten thousand decaphoebs since you’ve last walked the halls of this castle, yet for me it has barely been a phoeb since I last saw you?” Allura sits on Melchor’s unmade bed, looking at his room.

Allura looks down to where the projector is gripped in her hands, and feels a few tears rolling down her face.

“It’s so hard not having you here. You’ve always been a constant in my life, someone I could turn to. It feels so odd to walk the halls and not hear you joking with one of the guards, or to hear your footsteps when you would try to sneak up on me.” Allura huffs out a laugh, tears still rolling down her face.

“You never managed to sneak up on me, and every time you swore that you would get me next time.” She wipes some of the tears on her face, and continues.

“You would’ve loved the new paladins. They’re so brave, and there’s so much good within them. You would’ve gotten on very well with Lance. I can see so much of you in him. I can just imagine now the banter between the two of you. It would’ve been never ending.

“It’s almost painful for me to look at him at times, because I can hear your laugh echoing in his. I…I could’ve never thought that there would be a day where I would be without you, brother. You’ve always been in my life and now…” Allura closes her eyes and tries not to choke on the sob that’s trapped in her throat.

“Now I have to walk these halls alone, without you guiding me. I can’t even bury you. All I have to serve as your grave is your room, and dust serving as the flowers placed on it instead of juniberries.” She looks at the projector, and turns it on.

The smiling face of her brother as he poses beside her looks back at her, and the sob that had been trapped in her throat escapes.

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jellyfishsaliva · 1 year

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Is…Is it just me or did they put the picture of a monkey in Justice for All?

#ace attorney #justice for all #aa trilogy #please excuse the quality #i zoomed in as far as i could

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dont-open-dead-inside-25 · 9 months

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me on here talking about how much I hate my orthodontist

#Please excuse the quality #This was drawn on my phone with my finger #Which is not something I've ever done before #finn says shit #Finn draws shit

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nataliescatorccio · 1 month

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ANTHONY & KATE BRIDGERTON Bridgerton: Season 3

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blushouyo · 1 month

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EGO DEATH

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beif0ngs · 11 days

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Number 4, 5, 6 & 7 in The Umbrella Academy Season 4 Teaser Trailer

#The Umbrella Academy #TUA #Umbrella Academy #tuaedit #Klaus Hargreeves #Number Five #Ben Hargreeves #Viktor Hargreeves #*mine #please excuse the sh*t quality gifs #me seeing them get their powers back in the trailer: [surprised pikachu face]#i mean we always knew they were bound to get their powers back #but for some odd reason i didn't expect them to reveal it this soon in the trailer

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fernsnailz · 2 years

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shadow the hedgehog in fortnite REAL

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic #sonic fanart #please excuse the quality these are screencaps from the margins of my storyboard files. no i will not go back and export them correctly #anyways i think shadow dresses like a 12 year old that was let loose in a target with 20 dollars and no supervision #fern's sketchbook

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conjuring-ghouls · 11 months

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I have it so bad for him

#excuse the quality #this fucking new editor is ruining all my gifs :c #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #papa emeritus iv #copia #cardinal copia #papa iv #papa 4 #popia #my gifs #oh please #he looks incredible #it's not even fair #him fixing his jacket in the last one had me losing my mind #the things i’d do for this man

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viktormaru · 6 months

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congrats on them for getting back together

#darkest dungeon #reymas #i love them a lot ngl #i did this at like 2 am yesterday after i was out the whole day please excuse the quality #waffle art

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willowser · 2 months

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ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

#i wrote this like a madman pls excuse the first draft quality hehe #PLEASEEEE he's so akfhahfkah isn't socialized LOL #doesn't talk to anyone really 🥺has no reason to 🥺#he's new to all this 🥺#doesn't mean to put you in his lil nest and cover you in the smell of him 👀#okay well he DOES but he didn't know it would AFFECT HIM THAT WAY PLEASE #ugh this has been living in my head for so long i'll write more of this when it isn't 1 am LOL #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ willow writes #song is wolf like me by tv on the radio !!!

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thresholdbb · 2 months

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