Miitaiko may or may not be an eldritch, shape shifting embodiment of chaos…
Also this (I gave Miitaiko a bit of a redesign btw)
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Chiron: Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! Home to demigods of—
Me: Yeah yeah, which demigods can see the shrimp colors?
Chiron: Excuse me?
Me: You heard me. Who’s got the shrimp colors?
Chiron: Well, ah…Iris is the goddess of the rainbow, and Poseidon is god of the sea, but I don’t think—
Me: Give me the shrimp colors, horse man.
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The number of people I follow that are active in both the moomins and tma fandoms is insane. On one end you have these cute little Finnish trolls and the other eldritch horrors that cause the end of world(s)
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As I am slowly but sure sorting through my belongings, I am looking at my small collection of Pokémon-related items and it got me thinking about a specific thing.
I got into Pokémon not through the games, but through the anime and movies first. I grew up poor, and even when I eventually got Pokémon Red, the second generation had been a thing for a while by then.
So, due to mainly hyperfocusing on the first three movies during that time, I developed an issue when I eventually played the games-
I felt awful catching any legendary Pokémon, because I felt like I was fuckin' up the local ecosystem in that world… fully expecting the same kind of fallout like it happens the second movie when the collector contains all the legendary birds to "summon" Lugia. (it didn't help that I also had the special Mew card they handed out with the movie tickets - I still have that thing too - it really made me go "If you catch them, you are just as bad as that guy.")
So, since then, I release the Legendary after catching it to get its Pokédex entry.
Due to that I sometimes envy folks who grew up with the games first - you all don't have to deal with a moral dilemma. :'>
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quietly eyeing baldur's gate the third but has no idea what's in it other than the vampire that everyone wants to fuck
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(for anon confession) i imagine you as wearing a lolita dress with tentacle hair and big scary fangs because of your URL
SO ABOUT THAT-
This is one of the skirts I have. It's by Violet Fane and its called A Cult from the sea or something- but I'm a sucker for cosmic horror and that little piece of shit HP Lovecraft- AND MY SONA IS A LITTLE ELDRITCH MONSTER TOO- I mean if yall wanna see you can, she doesn't match my aesthetic for the blog but she's got curly tentacle hair and wears lolita
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Quotes about the strange nature of Taliesin's existence - Day 62
Taliesin: "Sunshine is overrated though, I believe that."
Liam: "It's because you sleep in a coffin covered in dirt."
Taliesin: "That is true."
(#EverythingIsContent - Persona 3 Portable)
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as much as nope is a perfect standalone film and I’m tired of everything getting sequelled and franchised to death, if it happens, it should be called “yep”, and should continue the theme of “jean jacket is a Creature from an Ecosystem rather than a ship or something Properly Alien”
mr peele I’m free to talk about eldritch sky whalefalls if you need ideas
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Prompt 26: Reflection
Prompt: Break a Leg - FFXIV Write 2022
Characters: The Sleeper
The edges of his world are covered in black oil. Water flows by him, dark and quiet save for the song whispering in the distance. Blue eyes flick open in the darkness, pale like glacial ice. Several more eyes flutter open, one after another, varying in size and shape. They blink in unison, staring into the darkness.
“What have I done?”
In the darkness, he slumbers. In the city sunken beneath the waves, his voice whispers. He is the song of the deep The abyssal dark, the madness nipping at the edge of the soul. He is not alone. A spider dangles from her web around his throat. A viper entwines himself around his chest. A moth flutters his wings from his perch on his lips.
“What have I done?”
Here in the sway of the black water licking at his wounds, he has all the time to consider. Glossy black limbs drift in the flow of the water alongside strands of sleek blue-black hair. A thousand eyes watch him, a thousand voices have an opinion. The ends of lengthy tentacles curl and corkscrew lazily, content. A bulbous figure bumps against his hand and draws his frozen gaze down to the creature. A fractured maw, broken limbs, several eyes and a soft merp greet him.
Abomination.
That is what he has created. Endlessly, always. His figure shifts, arms circling around the strange creature, a mockery of life he takes to his breast. These are his children. He will embrace them.
Every one.
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why is the one critter from malevolent so fun to say the name of. shub n'grath? idk how 2 spell that so im gonna go w that
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