#uhhhhhhhhhh idk

[acoraxia]

my lamb’s name is Alhué yippee

[o-i-w-u]

today's episode was kinda cool huh. lord bloodmoon vaguely canon >:3

(they're gonna kill each other)

@achickennamedcheese @sillyclowncircus tagging you both rgahhh

plus a mid-fight snack break! ichor tastes awful.

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Edit: no longer post hurricane commissions just regular ol' commission vibes :]

If you're fixing for a commission from me or just wanna help out then feel free to pop on over to my kofi and place an order :]

(or if you wanna just toss a dollar at me then thats also very much appreciated lol)

Also! check it👇

Head on over there if you feel like👉😎👉

Can't commission? Well that's chill, all i ask for is a spare reblog if you gots the time 👍👍👍

Not sure what my art looks like? Peep the art tag

[vsemily]

7:25 AM

[bovineblogger]

i might change my url at some point and pivot this blog to be more like... general bovine focused.....

[hakufuku]

A part of her realized she was leaning closer over him, that her forehead pressed against his. Sansa looked into the violet of his exposed eye, unflinching despite the shadows of darkness lurking beneath its depths. Aemond, in turn, looked back into the impossible blue of her gaze, and their blessed light. Like heaven and earth meeting to kiss upon the skyline, their colors mingled; like one another’s mirror, until they became their own reflections of refracted light and encroaching shadow. “After all, we’re the same, you and I.”

----------------------------

hiya! i was making an edit.... which lead to making a caption... which lead to writing a oneshot, lol

concept is: a bunch of show & book canon smashed together, a reunion scene set in winterfell after years of seperation due to forces outside their control, and also perhaps childhood friends?? dont think too deeply about the how and when, just roll with it idk

----------------------------

The muffled din of unceasing rainfall mingled with the soft crackle of dying embers in the hearth. She threw a couple logs atop the charred remains of fire, a small plume of ash protesting the abrupt roughness of it, before the flames were gradually revived.

Aemond sat slumped in a chair beside the table they’d once used for taking tea, pouring over histories, or studying new battle strategies. A film of dust had settled atop its smooth, oaken surface — the mark of a few years worth of disuse; the mark of several more arduous months, blatantly ignoring the few years of disuse, refusing to cling to memories that now seemed an unreachable dream. As if in silent protest, Sansa scrubbed the soaking fabric of her cloak-sleeve across its surface. Dust motes swirled in the warming air (it was the first time she wondered if she had a particular knack for disrupting the natural order of things, or perhaps she just rejected the world as it was instead of what it ought to be), and she left behind a streaked mess. She supposed it needed proper care to restore it back to some semblance of its former use, but it was a start.

A cold, tentative hand came to rest over her own, and Sansa blinked away her blurred vision. Odd, she thought, that the rain could reach indoors like this. She glanced at Aemond from beneath her lashes, an apologetic smile ghosting her lips as she realized he’d been watching her most closely. As if after pushing her away all this time, he’d realized he couldn’t let her out of his narrow line of sight. 

Not again. Never again.

Though there was something in the way his gaze, pronounced by a thin rheumy film and deep purple bruises just below, fixed upon her alone, that made her stomach flutter with something she couldn’t quite name. It seemed an unpleasant thought, to choke on butterfly’s wings, and a bitterly nostalgic feeling took hold of her then. She swallowed thickly before rounding the table to help unfasten Aemond’s cloak, if only to escape his unwavering eye.

They were silent as she deftly unclasped his traveling cloak, dripping heavy from the deluge. Though she’d aimed for his blind side, Aemond turned his head to watch Sansa most closely. Her eyes flickered up for only a breath, finding muted surprise and something not ungentle reflected back at her before she looked back to her hands.

“This is something I used to do for my father.” she finally spoke, the gentle lilt of her voice cutting the quiet. Drenched in rainwater, his furs were heavier than she imagined. She remained silent about their weight, reasoning that the dead he carried on his back, that gripped and clawed at his throat like a vise, like an albatross, were far heavier than piles of fabric and the rain to wash him clean. Sansa draped his cloak upon an empty chair in front of the hearth to dry, before returning to Aemond’s side to unfasten a pauldron from his shoulder.

“He and I understood each other without having to say too much.” the silence threatening to swallow her voice was punctuated with each dull thud of his leather armor pieces as she placed them on the floor. “Part of me knew it hurt him, that I wasn’t so open about my true feelings. But he knew I helped to care for him because I loved him.”

He remained deathly still despite the momentary twitching of his hands, his breath shallow as his gaze remained fixed upon a pile of worn books atop her writing desk. Focused; looking, but unseeing. Like cornered prey planning an escape, like a predator thrilled by the chase; she couldn’t discern which role was his, she couldn’t discern which role was hers.

Somehow, the thought compelled her to keep talking, “ — So please, let me do this for you, My Prince.”

His hand found hers again, catching her deft fingers just as she’d moved in front of him and finished removing his chest plate. Lightly, as if she were something fragile (with his touch alone, she was) he pressed her palm flat against his chest, over his own heart. The erratic rhythm was foreign to her, and her cheeks lit aflame as if she were intruding on something private, intimate; something altogether not meant for her.

“It’s rare to hear you talk at length like this nowadays, My Lady.” he said, his gaze piercing, despite his voice hoarse and colored with a tremor (of yearning? excitement? fear?), “We're both aware I tend to be stubborn... and at times single-minded, especially when it counts.” in spite of his assessment, the corners of his lips quirked up, not quite a smile, “But I won’t catch your meaning if you don’t speak it plainly.”

Moments passed, their breaths caught in their throats, fire crackled in the hearth, Aemond’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, butterflies threatened to choke her, and despite still drenched from the unceasing downpour, the room became almost impossibly too warm to bear. Sansa swallowed again, her mouth dry. Her lips moved, but it was another few seconds before the words took form.

“You... most certainly will, My Prince.” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers clenched against his chest, twisting in the fabric of his tunic, and she was emboldened by the way his hand pressed securely over her own, as if to encourage her. Her free hand came up to his cheek, fingertips brushing against his jawline, as if to return the way he’d held her in place with just a touch. Her thumb grazed the scar on his cheek, tender against his angry flesh.

A part of her realized she was leaning closer over him, that her forehead pressed against his. Sansa looked into the violet of his exposed eye, unflinching despite the shadows of darkness lurking beneath its depths. Aemond, in turn, looked back into the impossible blue of her gaze, and their blessed light. Like heaven and earth meeting to kiss upon the skyline, their colors mingled; like one another’s mirror, until they became their own reflections of refracted light and encroaching shadow.

“After all, we’re the same, you and I.”

[cemetaryvampire]

uhhh today I’m one week clean!!

This is hashtag So. Cool and epic

[cmentary-drive]

trying to work out some witchy design, but idk how to feel about this

[moefool666]

thing i made last night when i was cravinf for someone and being hungry as fuck

[vaugarde]

the narrator is very interesting to me… im assuming hes referring to the route where he traps you in the cabin for all of eternity. in that scene, he doesnt read as spiteful or anything- he seems to genuinely think its a fantastic ending where the long quiet can be happy forever. HEY WAIT is that why its called the long quiet……….

love it when characters are so afraid of death and love immortality and eternity without understanding why death and change in general are necessary

[xx-neuro-xx]

Editing ppls drawings into picture frames like

[ria-starstruck]

like at my first artfight i went "im never filling one a these things out, if they're every year then why would i" but erm. well this year i had to because of team stardust. you understand. reblog

anyway my artfight's at /~Ria_Starstruck

[bluehoodedmousebane]

I love disappearing for a year only to carry on with the same shit as usual. Anyways omg hi J'onn. and others.

[lesbegays]

if anyone has tips on how to eat well and exercise a little when you’re so tired every day you can’t even bring yourself to do the things you enjoy pls let me know

[ingoodjesst]

this is mostly a ramble in response to himeno hot takes that she lacks depth or readings that fawn over aki while dissing himeno and it's like. i know i shouldn't take it TOO seriously but idk lol neither this manga nor aki himself would be what it is without her

like take this with a grain of salt ofc, but some ppl in the fandom have these visceral negative reactions to himeno that i really feel miss the thematic importance she has both in the overarching story and to aki in particular. i mean listen, it is 1000% okay if you simply do not like her because of her actions towards denji; she's a fucked up character, she's not supposed to be justified in everything. yeah i find her supremely interesting both in spite of and because of her doing genuinely bad things in a very human way, but not everyone comes out of that actually liking her which is fine

that said, if you try to engage with the story while ignoring himeno, you will lack a full understanding of csm and of aki hayakawa as a character. she just encapsulates so many of the manga's themes at only a third of the way through. like, the way that being single-minded and dealing with your traumas poorly can lead to ruin. the way that we can have complex relationships that we hang onto even when they're imperfect or toxic. the way that love is a dependency and can be deeply unhealthy, but that doesn't stop us from still wanting and needing to depend on others and continuing to try over and over again anyway because without vulnerability we will never find true connection. the way that the ones we lose live on in ourselves, precisely because we cared and connected with them - enough to contextualize their lives, enough to cry over them. the way that easy revenge is the first step in aki's journey to realize that the pursuit of a grand cause he could never pull off alone anyway is not the only thing that can give life meaning, not when there are the little victories and the people you love that you don't wanna lose (again).

i mean i think it's worth noting that in the end, aki still gives himeno's family half of his life's savings because that connection ran too deep to ignore, even long after she was gone. because even if she was the first death in the story only about 30 chapters in, himeno's presence echoes throughout the narrative and haunts you like a ghost one last time to remind you that yes, she was and always has been there.

[moodnamars]

drew my son again :,)