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(( I’m probably gonna remake this blog soon. Either redo the content or make a separate blog entirely

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(( Yikes I have a lot to catch up on and redo here

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There is nothing wrong with having scars, for they are only the remnants from the victorious battles of yesterday. You have fought many, won quite a few, and continue to conquer those that await.

Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin (via thepowerwithin)

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Hjaalmarch redux

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Inktober Day 11:

Sejuani, the Winter’s Wrath

Fanart for one of my all-time favorite champions from League of Legends. 

Hadn’t drawn her since before her remake. She’s such a scary, boar-riding, ice hurling, viking babe. So what can I say? She’s badass.

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That time the winter’s claw captured Katarina. Patreon request

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Bristle seemed to know the way best. His eyesight was appalling from a medium distance, but his other senses were keen and Bristle’s home had been the mounds of icy shrubbery around them before they were ever Sejuani’s. She hardly seemed to flinch at the contact around her. So long as she felt a little bit of strength clinging to her, she seldom needed to check over her shoulder for the other’s condition. Making time count consumed her focus.

“Yes,” Sejuani answered aloud, inclining her head in the slightest of ways to show her attention. When she ducked a little, the stranger’s weight seemed to go with her, making it easy to avoid lower hanging branches. “A very capable medic, and those who are... better than I am.”

Perhaps she over estimated the time it would take them to get back, or perhaps Bristle was sick of sluggishly sliding his way across the landscape with extra weight on his back. Before the warmonger knew it, the trees disappeared behind them and the very faint glows of fire dotted a rising hill; fires that were only permitted if perimeter deemed it completely safe. Sejuani allowed her shoulders to relax a little, but not entirely.

“Still drawing breath? Almost there.”

cont. from: into the fire

Quinn tipped back the water and drank as Sejuani worked on her wounds. It maintained her breathing in a steady fashion and alleviated the heavy flavor of iron and sticky illness from her tongue, and already it returned a small amount of strength to her limbs by the time her wounds were bound in skins and furs situated steadily to keep her frail form from the cold of the night.  Soon enough all was in place and the tribal leader mounted her great steed.

Despite all signs of annoyance earlier, Liberty situated herself on the very back of Bristle’s saddle as Quinn accepted Sejuani’s hand. The ranger scrambled up onto the boar’s back; thanks to the hide bindings on her wounds applying pressure to them, she felt no pain save for a slight tug to the straps. Once in the saddle, she did her best to settle herself in. Horses had been one thing in her youth, but on the back of such a massive beast her balance felt skewed. It was more like straddling a boat to ride it – the lumbering motions of the boar were similar enough to waves anyhow.

Just to be safe, the ranger laced her hands around the other to stay secure in her place. She tried to sit of her own accord for a time, but as fatigue set in, she felt herself drifting off again, this time against Sejuani’s back. She was tired, so tired…

Liberty nipped at her finger to wake her up from her droop. The bird knew what had happened last time she’d fallen asleep and obviously wanted it not to repeat. Her red-gold eyes contained almost a note of a glare, for an owl. Quinn gave her bird a pat on the head, which solicited an affectionate trill. 

“You have a medic, back at your camp, I’m guessing?” Quinn asked. Perhaps conversation would ease her ability to stay awake.

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Stretches across couch in some loose fitting clothing. Is likely slowly freezing, given that she's shaking. But still, must look like a snacc.

Any sensible woman would have appreciated a snacc. But with the social complexity of a mule, Sejuani stares Quinn down for several solid moments before reaching for a ridiculously large pelt and absently throwing it over the other.

“You’ll make the mountain crumble if your teeth chatter any louder.”

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|| I empathize with the random guards people take out in videogames because I’ve been walking an exact path and checking a vault and all I can think is that a protagonist will come out of nowhere and fuck up my day

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what a mess she has become, what a hard person to love

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Another world gazes through grease and smoke.

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"I like your life-style, Sejuani...however." Tryndamere drew his sword from his back, staring at her with his cold blue eyes. "I am not your ally."

“It would have been droll for me to have ever presumed. Your gestured threat is empty to me. So too is my hospitality, apparently, for you seem to confuse it with comradery.”

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you bet your ass i got this strong from screaming at the moon and eating dirt

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SmOOCH

“You keep startling me. I don’t want to hear you complain if your kiss one day results in injury.”

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oh i’ll bury the hatchet all right. i’ll bury it in your spine.

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“Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.”

— Richard Siken, excerpt of The Worm King’s Lullaby (via antigonick)