#cut gaia

[bebemoon]

i’m creepin’ in your heart,babe.mp4

ebonny munro “sex wrestler” sterling silver stud earring

dilara findikoglu customisable pearl belt in silver {which i added the “monster” charms to^^’}

yohji yamamoto silver 95o vampire fang pinkie ring

givenchy “ange ou demon” eau de parfum

naomi gilon iridescent white monstrous heart bag

cult gaia “hyte” leather platform sandals

marc jacobs strapess ribbed colomn dress w/ tall back slit

[summeringminor]

have seen the light of drawing butch women

[haunted-xander]

Started this months ago but procrastinated hard bc I didn't want to draw backgrounds </3

[mayasaura]

Ha. Hahaha. Sobbing crying tearing my hair out ect

[ima-ghost-art]

Guess who finally got around to drawing their post-war Leo design!!! I think after exploding it doesn't make much sense that Leo would still be fully in one piece, to ofc his siblings made sure to help kit him out with some cool new celestial bronze limbs plus a monster-grade hearing aid!!

ALSO sketches of Frank just loving his small bf

[eemolu]

is it just me or is francesca by hozier very gideon as kiriona coded…… i said put me back in it……. if i could hold you for a minute…….. I WOULD DO IT AGAIN

[yuck-pfaugh]

* Camilla and Pyrrha both got to have short hair, which [Nona] envied. Cam's was dark brown and bobbed off sharply at the chin and it felt nice against your cheek, and whenever Pyrrha didn't shave her head quick enough she got a little flat cap of dark terracotta, the colour of wet red earth at the building site. Most of Pyrrha was the colours of the building site: deep dried-out browns, dusty hunks of clay, rusted metal. She was raw and ropy and square-shouldered, and Camilla was long and shadowy and lean. Nona thought they were both exquisite.

* Nona always liked the science teacher's face, which was sort of snub-nosed and thin and crinkly around the eyes, but that morning she was frankly untidy. She was a gallant little person of fortyish who gave the impression that she had learnt a lot early in life and discovered late that it was no real good to her or anyone else. This lent her teaching a weightless, secretive feeling, like it was really all for fun at the end of the day. She liked to wear button-up shirts, often with suspenders to hold up the trousers, and a dust jacket to keep her clothes neat walking through the city; but that morning her shirt looked like yesterday's shirt and her face looked like yesterday's face—careworn, with her freckles fading into the background of her skin. All of the Angel was tinted in soft greys and browns, but she had delicious reddish freckles scattered on her cheeks and nose which added life and vivacity to her face[.]

* Crown, in her heavy boots and stained zip-up jacket and tough canvas trousers with bulging pockets, was the most beautiful woman in the city and maybe on the planet. She filled up the doorway like a light-up sign. She had skin like amber and wonderful hair exactly the colour of golden sugar, and if she had ever been in a queue to get something from a shop everyone would have asked her where she had been all their lives. You could have sold tickets to see her. When she smiled at Nona, like she did now, her purple eyes crinkled up at the corners. She was always happy to see Nona. Nona was regularly the only one happy to see her. [...] Crown was fantastically tall and big and gave wonderful hugs, the type where she put her arms around you and really squeezed. The only uncomfortable part was that with their height difference, Nona was always poked by the gun holstered at Crown's right hip and the sword scabbarded at her left. [...] The Angel was a bit shocked, like Crown looking the way she did was maybe illegal. [...] Crown laughed with very white and even teeth. [...] Crown was very nearly pretty enough for Camilla.

* What distinguished most of the portraits was that they were paintings, and very old, all except for one: a photograph of a woman with ferociously red hair and an expression that said she was about to hit the photographer.

* [T]he new person—a compact, medium-sized person with a machete strapped to each thigh and a small, heavy gun in their hands, not wearing an air mask, not wearing a hat. A mask hung around their neck as though they'd been in a hurry and hadn't pulled it up yet. Their face would have been fierce and handsome if it hadn't been puckered with shrapnel scars on both cheeks, across the nose that should've been flattish but had been broken once, in a peppery storm of burns at one temple. These scars meant they weren't fierce and handsome; they were super-cool and fierce and handsome. Their hair had been buzzed short on one side and kept longer on the other, the long part dyed a shriekingly electric blue, and their brows were dark and their eyes were darker, smudged with camouflage makeup above and beneath. And Nona had known who they were the moment their body moved, but the machetes helped. It was Our Lady of the Passion, for the first time unmasked. [...] Nona quite fancied Pash at this point. She had got to see her up close during all the preparations. She hadn't put her mask back on and she was wearing a thin-strapped top along with big trousers with heaps of pockets to put things in. She had wrangled her short blue-dyed hair behind a sweatband so that the longer bits didn't fall in her scarred eyebrows or green eyes, and every so often she scowled at Nona like she could cause Nona to melt away dead.

* The door opened, and someone walked in; an elegant middle-aged person with shadowy eyes. They were wearing no mask and no goggles and no hood, and their hair was pinned up in a neat roll atop their head and wrapped in a brief scarf with a blue stripe pattern. [...] Nona noticed that the light on Suffer's hair made it quite a nice chestnut colour, like rich mouse [Mousse? - Ed]. She was probably quite a bit older than Pyrrha, with strongly marked features and an aristocratic, slightly hooked nose, and her face was marked with lines that showed even beneath a light layer of powder and makeup. [...] We Suffer moved aside the flip-top computer and crossed her long legs. She was wearing trousers with lots of pockets, but she sat as though she were wearing something much prettier. In the olden days Nona would have immediately commenced practicing how to sit like that, and been able to do it perfectly the first time round; but now she looked at the commander with her elegant older face and she felt a great, hot pang inside her.

* The long corpse was dressed beautifully in white: white trousers, brown boots that looked nearly new, a white jacket with silver frogging and toggles. The jacket had been unbuttoned some. The girl looked like she had gone to sleep with her shoes on after a long, tiring day: her face had that half-past-a-dream expressio. Her red hair was even redder in the dark, brighter than Pyrrha's and redder than Honesty's, and the little wreath of bones and blossoms was askew over her temples. She had a decided chin and a nose that was the complete opposite of Nona's nose, one that put her in mind of those big poison desert cats Born in the Morning was crazy about. Nona wasn't at all sure she was beautiful. [...] What happened made her think much better of the corpse. It opened its eyes—and its eyes were yellow, the gold of the old sky, like hers only much foggier. Those were beautiful: Nona had always adored her eyes, and here they were again, on the corpse, only partially spoiled for being dead. They looked like treasure at night. The corpse looked at her in such mute, helpless appeal—spoke to her in her first language—that Nona did not have to think about what she did next. She leant down and laid a kiss right on that cool, dead, crooked mouth.

[ask-cloverfield]

well Lullaby of the Migrating Monster was my favorite episode

[shreksstepfather]

Below the cut is a comic about Gaia with lyrics from Mars by Sleeping at Last!

Yippee... :(

[rainbowgaez]

Send a message to Gaia

[azurish]

anyways! here’s me sitting in bed kicking my feet up and underlining this bit with a sparkly pen (black glitter ink obvs) 100 times.  because it’s obviously heartbreaking, BUT ALSO it’s reassuring, as proof that, unlike her dad, gideon is already figuring out that sometimes revenge doesn’t actually bring you closure!  

which is a fundamental thesis of Nona, imo: jod’s fatal flaw is his self-righteous laser focus on vengeance on the trillionaires over saving the world, which leads him to escalate the stakes until he damns the world.  to quote cassiopeia, “your problem is that you care less about being a saviour than you do about meting out punishment.”  (which is paralleled in hot sauce’s arc as well, actually - she realizes that “revenge” on the zombies wasn’t worth it when it meant killing nona!)

and here’s gideon, getting some taste of the vengeance she’s always dreamed of (telling crux her dad’s literally God AND killing him) and finding it lacking.  she just (rightfully!) took crux and the whole ninth to task for always being focused on dying for harrow instead of living for her - but gideon needs to live for herself and not just kill for harrow and her past, too, i think.*  i mean, i don’t think it’s a coincidence that the closest kiriona comes to seeming like Our Gideon is in the final scene, once harrow shows up - once gideon isn’t focused on the past and revenge but on building a future.

anyways! this scene is why i’m stubbornly going to cling to the hope that gideon is going to get at least a slightly happy ending in Alecto after all, because she’s going to break the generational cycle of vengeance!!

*i don’t think the parallel is perfect, because obviously killing crux is not just revenge but also necessary for opening the tomb and bringing back harrow, but i still think it’s very interesting and suggestive

image description under cut, because the alt text box ran out of room:

Photograph of two paragraphs from the book Nona the Ninth. Text reads:

And Kiriona kept saying— “It didn’t feel good … Fuck … It didn’t feel good. Why didn’t it feel good?”

A rising, hysterical note. “Why didn’t it feel good? You fucking old … You hideous, cruel … you bastard … Why didn’t … Why can’t I…”

[aizenat]

God the more I watch of blood of Zeus the more unimpressed and irritated I am by anything around the mc.

First off, idk if I missed something, but why was the sword in some giant metal robot thing? Also, and this is most important, why the FUCK would the big sword they had been Herons entire mission to retrieve all season (for some reason) be pulled out and retrieved by Herons two travel mates instead of Heron himself?!?!?! He’s being squeezed to death and survived thanks to them but is he not the lead? Was retrieving the sword not HIS mission? When the Amazonian hands him the sword, it’s weird moment because like how weird for the mc to just be handed a sword others almost died for and he did nothing himself to obtain. What sort of hero’s journey is this?

Like literally this man just had things happening around and to him. You can’t have him see people dead and have this dramatic moment where he says he won’t die like them only for him to spend this entire season just having things done to him. Goes to his home and Zeus happened to make a secret basement with a holograms with instructions how convenient. He goes to visit his mothers grave and not only is human seraphim there for him to save (as he was told to do by Gaia lol) but so is this material he needs to locate the sword he needs for reasons. Again how convenient. Is out in the middle of the ocean and not only does a magical giant robot with the sword attack but it does so right where an Amazonian ship is sailing, FOR SOME FUCKING REASON, to pick them out of the water after the fight. HOW FUCKING CONVENIENT.

And like as an aside, why the fuck did the Amazonian straight ask why there was an Amazonian ship out where they were (indicating that it was weird they were there) only for a fight to break out and no answer to that weird fucking coincident? Like this is what I mean with this show. The writing is all off. Logically it would make sense for the heroes to find the ship, land and talk to the Amazonians, let the one with them reunite with her people, and then when the robot attacks I’m invested in the fight because it’s not just about getting the sword but also about keeping their new friends safe. It’s how you properly raise the stakes and build tension. Who the fuck is writing this show because all offense they suck and don’t seem to understand basic storytelling concepts. Like you know writing linearly and fucking have the protagonist fucking do something for himself instead of existing while the fucking plot happens around and to him!

[fortjester]

mercymorn 🤝 palamedes 🤝 camilla

having their hearts explode

(honourable mentions: jod, not sure if getting atomised counts as exploding, bc he did zero (0) damage to anything but himself (+ some crispier parts of the Sixth); isaac, being sieve/colander boy definitely means he suffered some variation of cardiovascular trauma/damage/annihilation, but it was never specified, so he sadly doesn’t make the cut; kiriona, while we know that her heart is canonically Not There No More, it’s as of yet unexplained exactly what happened to it (one can draw obvious fence-post-related reasons, tho, so once again, disqualified))

[nikatyler]

𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖆𝖘 🦇 𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱

Gaia Nyx (she/her), 6766, female

Gaia has heard many of the younger vampires whine about how hard their life is, how terrible it is that while everything changes, they remain the same. She hopes that some hunter puts a stake right through their heart before they can witness what being millennia old means, because that would be the real suffering for them. She watched civilizations rise and fall, she was there when the symbols the vampires fear now still meant nothing to no one. But when you’re this old, you know that all the words about change are nothing but a pile of bullshit.

[singingkestrel]

You want to know why I ship these two? Well, lots of reasons. But also this: look at Alva's face in this image.

...

Alva knows.

~~~~~~~~

The way I read their expressions goes like this:

[Alva, pleased but teasing]:

"I see what you're doing there Erend, ya big goof."

[Erend, bashful, maybe a little guilty]:

"You, uh, you noticed that, huh?

...

Please don't say anything."

[todayisafridaynight]

YIPPEEEEEEEEEEE I'M GLAD YOU LIKE IT he has been living rent-free in my head since I read your tags... marshmallow type of guy... figured he would be nice to View since you've had a rough week too :)

Also, I Too Would Like To Cut Hijikata's Tendons (<- Normal)

Speaking of normal. Two and a half hours to summit. Godspeed

NO PLEASE 'LIKE' IS SUCH AN UNDERSTATEMENT HE'S SO SO CUTE THANK YOU SO MUCH (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)(;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) ABSOLUTELY helped put a smlie on my face..... most CERTAINLY made my week a whole lot better i cannot stress this enough......

AND TWO HOURS TO SUMMIT WHO'S READY <- ISN'T READY MENTALLY