scatterbrained-salamander

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Orym deserves a good hug from Wildmom tbh

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mother???? I found you <333

Im your mommy

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it’s brighter now

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bro no... thats 36 toilets this month... i don't have the income to support this...

the world would be so bleak without uquiz smh

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Nice try Reki, Langa still looks cute

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“You can’t skate on ice, reki…”

“I know, but we can still try!!”

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Kaoru pretending he is not totally, bone crushingly in love with Kojiro is my favorite thing.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

thanks!

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A true Horse Girl

Instagram//Kofi

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ill pass

The world can suck my balls

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Morning, Mourning

wrote this instead of studying :|

Post ep 34 (spoilers)

Tw: angst, nightmares, major character death

Imogen was well accustomed to nightmares. She knew them well: the tossing and turning, the sweat that clung to one’s skin and dampened one’s bed sheets, the fear that lingered long after rational thought had caught up. Imogen knew nightmares. 

Or rather, she knew her nightmare. She knew it like the back of her lightning-laced hand. She knew the feeling of grass whipping against her legs and the soft nuzzle of Flora’s snout. She knew the farmhouse in the distance, she could paint the scene even with her eyes closed. She knew the storm, the inescapable red blot on the horizon that only grew bigger. She knew each tone and intonation of her mother’s voice—despite not having heard it in any other context—urging her to ‘ Run, Imogen. Run.’

The nightmare had been shifting, slightly, ever since joining Bell’s Hells. Now she saw figures in the swirling dust, and had seen Otahon and Betrand. Largely, though, the nightmare was the same. It was always the same field and the same house and the same horses. It always ended the same way: gasping for breath, sweat clinging to the back of her neck, and Laudna holding her tightly. 

“It’s okay, Imogen,” She would always whisper, “It was just a dream. You’re safe now.”  

And Imogen would collapse into her arms—let her tears stain Laudna’s blouse—and wait until the first rays of morning came. Laudna would rub circles into her back, and soothing words into her ear, until the sun would eventually come.

Imogen knew the feeling of a nightmare, and she knew how her nightmare always started. 

However, this time was different. There was no farmhouse, no grass, no horses. There was no storm, no whipping red winds or shadowy figures. At first, it was just Imogen, curled up and alone. She looked down, at her hands with purple lightning just peaking past her fingers. 

“Not fond of people, are you?” A voice observed, so breathtakingly familiar that Imogen thought she might shatter. “It’s okay,” the voice continued, “People tend to not be fond of me.” 

Imogen looked up, and there she was. Her hair was a dark, snarled mess, hardly held up by the small chisel sticking out of her bun. Her skirt was dark and torn, her blouse a deep blood red. A mangled dead rat hung from her belt, a raven skull haphazardly attached, and a piece of yellow fabric tied around her wrist. Her smile was friendly, and just toeing the line of creepy. 

“I’m Laudna,” She introduced, sticking out a hand. It would be cold, Imogen knew even before grasping it. 

“Imogen,” Imogen responded. 

Imogen, Laudna’s thoughts came, what a pretty name. Imogen shut them out, focusing solely on the words Laudna chose to tell her. 

“Are you alright?” Laudna asked, her dark eyes wide with concern. 

Imogen nodded shakily. “Yeah, for the most part. People just give me a headache, sometimes. Plus it’s been getting warmer, which doesn’t help my head.” 

“I get that,” Laudna said. She paused, pulling a water flask from her hip and untying the square of yellow fabric from her wrist. “Here,” she said, pouring the water on the cloth, “Tie it around your neck. It’ll help with the heat, even if it won’t help with the people.” 

“Thank you,” Imogen said, and found that she meant it. “You’re a traveler, right? I would have remembered seeing someone like you.”

Laudna nodded. “Yep! Just wandering through.” 

“Do you have a place to stay? I– I mean that, like, the inn is very noisy. Lots of people, and stuff. I have a place, not too far from here, and you’re welcome to stay for a little bit,” Imogen offered. She liked Laudna. Her thoughts were quiet.

“That would be wonderful,” Laudna smiled. The sight sent a pang of pain through Imogen, and it felt like she was splitting apart at the seams. 

The world around her changed, the ground under Imogen changing from well packed dirt to polished wood floors. 

“There’s only one bed,” the woman before them croaked, leading them up the stairs. Her back was bent, her cane thumped against the floor as she walked. “There’s no window, but there is a creepy hole thing. Not sure where it goes. Rent’s 30 gold a month, just don’t be too loud,” Zhudanna pushed the door open gesturing for Laudna and Imogen to step inside. 

The room was small, with one large bed taking up the majority of the space. Zhudanna had a couple of potted plants and vines, all clustered on one table in the corner. The walls were bare, the wall paper was aged and peeling at the corners. 

“Thank you,” Laudna was saying, a smile stretched across her face, “It’s perfect.” 

Imogen watched, her hands clenched tightly. Laudna was right; it was perfect. Too perfect.

The scene shifted again, faster this time, so quick Imogen felt her stomach leap into her throat. The ground was rough cobblestone beneath her, littered with scattered bits of wood and fabric. Imogen dusted herself off, glancing about at the strange group of individuals who had aided them. The broken furniture laid mangled around them, and Laudna slowly let down her form of dread. 

“If you’d all like to come to dinner with me,” the old man in the stained suit was saying, “I’d be happy to cover it.” 

Imogen looked at Laudna. Laudna looked at Imogen. Slowly, they nodded. 

The world around Imogen whirled once more. She was on an airship, the sky around her dark. Laudna stood in front of her, pale hand outstretched. Imogen’s fingers found the pouch at her side, and pulled out the crystal within. 

Don’t, something in her whispered, Don’t do it.

“Don’t do anything with it, Laudna,” Imogen warned.

“I would never do anything without your permission first,” Laudna promised, and Imogen believed her. She pushed down the voice inside her, urging her not to, and set the crystal in Laudna’s hand. 

The change was fast; it pulled a wailing cry deep out of Imogen’s chest. She gasped, panting, taking in the world around her. It was windy, dust and sand smacking against her skin and whipping her skirt around her legs. The buildings around her were empty and crumbling. 

Otohan stood before her, cold eyes meeting Imogen’s. Her voice was low, echoing through Imogen’s head.

“Is she your favorite?”

Imogen woke up with a gasp, hair sticky with sweat, adrenaline rushing through her veins. She sat up in bed, chest heaving. Laudna should be here, Imogen thought distantly, She always comforts me after nightmares.  

Imogen looked down, the lightning on her hands blurred by tears. Laudna should be here, Imogen thought again. That only made the tears fall faster, and Imogen hated herself for it. She thought of all those times, held in Laudna’s arms after one of the moon’s flairs. 

“It’s okay, Imogen. It was just a dream.” 

Imogen bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her breaths were coming quickly now, short puffs heaving her chest and raising her shoulders. The sound of her panting filled Imogen’s ears, ricocheting around her brain. 

“It’s okay, Imogen,” She whispered to herself, feeling like a child as she clutched her knees to her chest, “You’re safe now. It was just a dre–” The words caught in her throat, sticking like Laudna’s ichor. 

“It was just a drea–” She started to say again, the words catching on a sob. 

“It was just a–” She couldn’t finish the sentence, letting her head fall against her knees as cries wracked her body. 

Imogen thought of all those times, crying into Laudna’s blouse, waiting for morning to come.

She held her knees tighter, nails digging into her palms. One hand found its way to her throat, where the yellow cloth Laudna had given her was still tied. It slipped off her neck and into her palms, and Imogen buried her face into the familiar fabric. 

Morning was still hours away. 

It felt like it would never come at all. 

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The Percy Grog relationship is one I enjoy

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Caleb Widogast, Wizard of Embers 🔥

And with Caleb widogast complete, the first codex trio is done! These were a great exercise in composition, storytelling, and the historically inspired style is a dopamine rush, I love painting it so much. Also made me realise I should practice painting more estreme expressions, and also animals are SUCH a blast to draw! always learn

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bro count me in

Im selling motherly affection for a fee of 100000000000900000099 and 2 cents