#life has been wild lately

[kurokonobrainrot]

If you can draw Akashi being cute in any capacity I would love that please 🤲🏿

Big Brother Oreshi and baby brother Bokushi just for you <3

This is a very quick sketch so don't look too long or too closely xD

[youleavethetardisbrakeson]

Have you ever heard the term precipitous labor? My sister in law was complaining how her son took 36 hours to enter this world, but her daughter took 45 minutes from start to finish and all that I could think of was that it sounded like a Rhaenys issue, where one baby was there after two days of suffering and one had to be caught by Corlys or Jocelyn because the maester didn't even have time to get there.

Hi nonny! 👋

Oh, indeed I have heard of precipitous labor. If you're looking for a laugh, check out Seth Meyers' monologue about how his wife ended up giving birth in their hotel lobby.

Funnily enough, I've had pretty much this exact conversation with @joycieillustrations. She imagines that exact scenario; Laenor was fast, Laena was ROUGH.

Can you imagine the shock on Corlys' face if he had to catch a fresh baby? 🤣 He's seen a lot, but most certainly not THAT.

[palmettoshitposts]

I firmly believe andrew does nice things for people and then just lies about it.

it starts off low-key and the lies are believable or just by omission. like nicky suddenly finds the water bottle he’d been missing for months and it’s right in front of him (andrew spent a while searching all of the spots nicky usually puts things and found it pretty quickly). everyone, including nicky, presumes he was being a dumbass and it’s been there all the time.

like the time kevin finds a sports drink he really likes in the back of the maz after night practice and asks how it got there. andrew ignores him and neil just says that maybe aaron left it there?

like the time the girls want to make some cocktails with neil and educate him on “the delights of fruity alcohol” and they just happen to find most of the drinks they need already tucked in the back of the cupboard. some of them are half empty so they presume they had been there for a while (andrew had found some at the columbia house and just put them in the girls cupboard)

neil is very used to this but he doesn’t say anything or call andrew out. food that he likes appearing, new items of clothing that seemingly spawn at the back of the wardrobe, his bag making its way into the car before neil’s even realised he isn’t carrying it. it’s andrew’s low-key version of caring and neil thinks it’s sweet (not that he’d every day that aloud).

it moves on to bigger things.

andrew using a barely legal move against an opposing player after he’s been antagonising and irritating most of the team, but especially dan. the player ends up mildly injured and is taken off court. dan confronts andrew after, asking about it and andrew just claims he has no recollection of any of the events.

he’s moved beyond the silence to just straight up starts gaslight, gatekeep, girlbossing the foxes.

he literally buys nicky a pair of shoes he won’t shut up about and acts like nicky is the crazy one for thanking him, even though he literally just handed him the box.

he helps aaron book a tickets to a band katelyn likes because he’s in class when they go on sale and claims to never have heard of them later on.

he fully insists he was never in the lounge when matt needed some help moving some furniture around, despite it clearly being a two person job, andrew being the only one around at that moment and matt literally fucking carrying the other end of the furniture with him.

one of his biggest and frankly stupidest lies is when he hands david a bottle of really expensive whiskey the day he graduates and two seconds after handing it over, he asks david where he got it from.

david just rolls his eyes and tells him some asshole who he WILL be keeping in touch with gave it to him.

andrew just says “who?” like david is being super vague and confusing.

[kaereth]

The Collector hosting a bunch of people they captured invited to tea for a kofi!

[turtletaubwrites]

saw this and idk if you’ve seen it before but I felt like you needed to see it haha. Also hope you’re doing good!

I DID need to see this, thank you so much!! 😭🙏🏼

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

I've been looking for this one au where Len basically becomes a mad scientist and turns his friends into robots one by one for a while now, and I'm beginning to realize that I just read through your blog while half asleep a few months back and mixed together my memories of your flower hivemind and composite au

this is very funny to me. i'm absolutely honored this blog's posts were enough to evil-farming-game an entire vocaloid au into your memories 😂

i can give you this doodle; it's composite au but i'm sure it'd fit very well with this theoretical mad scientist len au lololl

[famewolf]

for so long all I wanted to do was die but now that I'm older, all I worry about is dying too soon. too soon to experience all the things I didn't give myself time for when I was young. I don't want to spend these years overthinking what time I have left

[starchildghost]

every word I say is kindling (but the smoke clears when you're around) - a Laudna/Imogen au, chapter 3/3: may your peace walk on with you for a while. also on ao3.

/

It takes time - longer than you had thought, so much so that you grow a bit fearful, a decidedly mortal emotion you had thought deadened inside of you - for either of them to notice.

It’s Laudna, of course, who does first. Her threads are all blue and the once-black of Delilah that chokes her; red is a color she hasn’t associated with since the last of it bled out of Matilda’s hands as she wrenched herself from the Sun Tree. It’s natural that she’s startled by the wave of red that hits her - red tether, red moon, red fury, red end. She’s used to only two voices in her head (three, if you count her ratbird) - she startles at the new, overwhelming one.

Startles, and feels revulsion creep in. You have put so much on the woman’s shoulders; she grows tired of it. Tired of fate.

Laudna, still biding her time on her airship, does not react to the affront on her consciousness; she waits for whatever lies on the other side to make its move.

/ 

Imogen’s dwellings within her mother’s domain aren’t humble by any means; she is a Temult, their savior, and her abode must reflect that. The Ruby Vanguard, however, dealing in secrets and keeping themselves from drawing too much attention, doesn’t allow for too much luxury. Imogen did have herself a rare luxury amongst them: a mirror in her private chambers, an object usually reserved for group areas. Mirrors are fragile and difficult to obtain, so far from bustling markets and the prying eyes of the commonfolk - it’s only because she’s a Temult that she’s been allowed one of her own.

Imogen’s attitude towards it shifted as she did - her purple sparks were beautiful - her itching skin that cracked apart with that same pulsing power was hideous - the hair that damns her, marks her as a Temult, makes her look so much like Liliana is horrific, and so is the mirror.

On this occasion, however, the mirror is a curiosity. Imogen rises for her morning tasks and nearly misses it - has no reason to linger on the mirror and so she doesn’t, until something catches the corner of her eye.

A portion of the mirror is much darker than any part of her own room is - it’s not a reflection at all, but a look at something.

At someone.

A woman sits curled up amongst some crates, using magic to propel a tiny husk of a rat (with a bird’s skull) along in front of her. She is speaking - or perhaps singing? - to herself, to the corpse, Imogen can’t hear. The scene is dark, and the woman and her magic are too, other than her deathly pale skin. “Hello?” Imogen asks aloud, stretching her hand towards the mirror before she can think of anything more logical to do.

The woman looks up, alarmed, and- the connection cuts out, leaving Imogen’s hand to touch its own reflection instead.

But Imogen Temult has more than one way to communicate. Who are you? She thinks, her eyes boring holes into the mirror, seeking the woman she’s sure she didn’t invent.

There is no response, and the only thoughts for Imogen to read are the buzzing drivel from the Ruby Vanguard.

The days pass like this, at first - a reflection of a woman she can’t reach in the mirror - a dead rat with a bird’s skull dancing in the reflection of a puddle - a song in a woman’s voice whose melody shakes her soul but whose words she can’t quite make out.

For the first time in many years, Imogen Temult feels excitement. She tells no one - she has always been told she’s been destined for important things and that others won’t understand, and she’s decided that “others” includes the Ruby Vanguard as well as the commonfolk. Liliana, well, Liliana just seems glad that Imogen returned back to the encampment, and largely leaves her alone to chase wisps of a woman who might not exist.

If it’s her psyche breaking, well, Imogen’s just glad it’s happening in a way that can make her happy.

For her part, the woman doesn’t seem surprised to see her after that first morning. Imogen doesn’t see her smile often, unless the rat is at the forefront of her attention, but her expression when she’s alone seems to always be calculating, judging. Imogen’s certain that the woman is sizing her up - which must mean their connection goes both ways.

The Ruby Vanguard does not have an extensive library, and what they have does not mention you. You are, after all, the opposite of what they strive for. Imogen devours every book, every manuscript, every scrap of information she can get her hands on (or her mind into), but nothing conclusively leads her towards what this connection might actually be.

It matters not; she knows she hasn’t reached a dead end, because she sees the woman more and more frequently, a ghost in her vision as your tether truly takes root. It’s so taut neither can move in a way that matters without the other feeling it, and Imogen, so used to tuning others out, is extremely aware of the other woman’s presence.

Where she showed to Laudna as a wall of red, red, red, Laudna’s presence in Imogen’s mind is much softer; she is a symphony without words, a gentle and soothing lullaby against the buzzing and droning that other people’s minds fill Imogen up with.

Imogen reaches her mind out to that music constantly, but has yet to receive any response.

Until, that is, Laudna softens. It isn’t intentional on the warlock’s nor her patron’s end; rather, the two are caught - literally - sleeping. It’s unclear to Laudna and to yourself, really, just how entwined Delilah’s consciousness is with hers - perhaps Delilah knew Imogen was coming and allowed her to see, or Laudna’s exhaustion became her patron’s and they were equally powerless in the face of this new bond.

Imogen began her day as had become customary to her - she reached her mind along the tether, aching to see the woman she’s decided means her destiny is taking hold - and, to her surprise, her whole world jolts into that cramped, dark storage space she’d seen that first day.

The woman is not alone.

It’s not the dead ratbird, who rests on her lap, clearly drifted from her grasp as she fell asleep. No - Imogen sees a shadow on the woman that she hasn’t been able to before.

The woman leans against a dark, wooden wall, and by all rights there shouldn’t be a shadow at all - it’s not bright enough where she is. Nonetheless, a much bigger woman is outlined behind her - Imogen can’t glean too much from only a silhouette, but as her eyes frantically take in the scene (already she feels her grasp on the tether slipping, already she knows she will be forced away) they can’t help but trail to where the shadow’s hands seem to rest - dark fingers compressing around the woman’s throat even as she begins to shake out of her slumber.

“Hello,” she rasps, meeting Imogen’s gaze with a crooked smile, seemingly amused at what she sees (Imogen can only imagine what face she must be making - any attempt to fix her expression proves futile, however: a messiah is not trained in how to school her expression) as she just tips into alertness. The storage space is already fading around Imogen, dark wood and crates giving way to sunlight streaming through a window, but Imogen can just make out the woman’s next words- “I think we’re each other’s fates.”

/ 

Things spiral from there, just as you hoped they would. Imogen has begun to realize that you have taken the thread of her fate in your hands and twisted it from her - you have wrenched what Liliana had created for her and twisted, twisted, twisted, reshaped it into something else.

It’s little things, adding up to make a clear picture in Imogen’s mind. A member of the Ruby Vanguard reaches out to stop her, thoughtlessly, forgetting those whom she touches burn - and when their hand reaches her shoulder they remember to flinch away but not before making the briefest of contact - it should have run them through, would have done so just a week before, but instead it’s the briefest zap. Imogen hears the sound, continues pushing through to her mother. It’s the buzzing of the thoughts of the Ruby Vanguard - she pushes them away, sometimes physically pushes them away, gives herself space; finds she can’t compel them anymore, her feelings to them merely a whispered suggestion now.

The Vanguard accept this with reverence; their messiah is settling in, affirming herself to their purpose. She isn’t the child they had grown to fear; no, she returns their love, look at how she’s begun to care for them.

Imogen thinks her spark has begun to dim, and she knows just who to blame.

 /

In the end, Imogen Temult and Laudna meet just the once. Imogen stands at the edge of her world, looking at the mountain that makes up her horizon, and she feels the approach of that symphony that’s been drowning out her powers since the other woman opened up to their connection.

She should be seething, she thinks. She should muster so much of the storm that the woman will fry where she stands. The world of the Ruby Vanguard should be marked by two graves struck by lightning; she, their messiah, should facilitate it.

Instead, she stands in the middle of the destruction she had wrought not too long ago, a circle of crisp, dead plants, in a field full of flowers blowing in a breeze, and she watches the approach of the woman whose shadow eclipses more of the world than it has any right to.

“It’s you,” Imogen can’t speak above a whisper, finds herself choked up by the woman’s presence - afraid of what it means. Imogen had spent years crippling anyone who approached, spent years crippled herself by their presence - this woman brings only music with her. There’s no headache on either side, no words to drown out.

“It is.” Laudna agrees. She isn’t afraid. She smiles at Imogen, and there are more teeth in that smile than Imogen has ever seen before. Laudna ghosts her hand over Imogen’s cheekbone; there is no electricity to stop her. Imogen has never had someone so close to her, and her breath catches.

Imogen wishes she could immolate her on the spot; she knows she could not draw the power to do so even if she wished to. Laudna’s eyes twinkle.

“Why did you do this?” Imogen asks even as she leans into the other woman’s touch. “Why are you interrupting my destiny?”

“Destiny?” She echoes, with a laugh. “Sweet girl, it was no more your destiny to bring about the apocalypse than it is mine to be the hero. People should be kinder than the gods that eat them. We are both vessels for people much worse than us. The difference,” she angles her face down towards Imogen’s, whispers has if telling her a secret, “is that I’ve come to the conclusion I can empty you of yours.”

Imogen tenses and reaches for Laudna’s chest, bunches the fabric of her dress in her fists, unsure what she even intends to do. Laudna’s hands close around her wrists. “Is that such a bad thing?” Laudna rasps, her whisper barely coming out around her broken vocal chords, head tilted toward Imogen but cocked on the angle that was the end of Matilda. “Why should the godeater’s outcomes for you be natural, and the path you forge on your own obscene?” Her grip tightens, and Imogen wills her power forward, taking the effort to muster up what was once unavoidable for her, sparks flying through her cracked skin into the other woman. Laudna continues speaking as if she doesn’t feel a thing, ranting at her patron, at Imogen’s, at you - “Do you intend to let them have every part of you, Imogen Temult? To take all that was good and all that was rotten and every ounce of potential in you and eat you up? To let them keep whispering to you that you’re right on the verge of realizing something, gaining something real and true, walking on a path that is not yours and that you did not choose, a baited fucking lure to a godsdamned noose-” she releases Imogen’s wrists, turns away from the woman, looks towards the heavens, screams to Delilah, to you, to Predathos, any who may hear - “doesn’t that make you ashamed? To scavenge off our lives, when they’re all we have?”

Her chest heaves with the effort of shouting, and she slowly turns towards Imogen, who had reached for her once more. Imogen’s fingers, still glowing with the pulsing power that marked her as a savior, lightly skim over the dead woman’s jaw. Imogen Temult, who had long since thought she would never be able to be close to another human being, leans into the woman whom she cannot shock, and before she can stop to think, she kisses her.

Laudna is not fast to react, but when she does, it is with need, with hunger that has defined her existence. She deepens the kiss, nibbles at Imogen’s bottom lip. They both feel a click, a sense of belonging that they’d wanted their whole lives, and then - it ends.

They stand together, Imogen’s head against Laudna’s still chest, taking in the flowers and the breeze, separate from either of their worlds, on the cusp of something new, until Imogen, a savior who knows she can no longer do any saving, a messiah who was not raised to know patience, has to ask: “Why are you here? Really, why are you here?”

Laudna doesn’t move, doesn’t turn her gaze to the other woman. “I’m going to kill your mother and burn this fucking cult to the ground.”

“Why?”

“Because the woman in my head wants to use their power to her own ends, and I cannot allow that. As long as they live, she will use me to reach for them, for the power they’ve amassed here, and it is my lot in my unlife to keep her with me and stop her from entering your world. I do what I must.” Laudna states it all, matter-of-fact, having thought about it for as long as she’s known they existed.

“If she… uses you to reach for it, how are you stopping her now?”

Laudna finally looks at Imogen, her mouth opening into a crooked smile made more crooked by the bend in her neck. “She thinks she’s all-powerful, but I absorb power for the both of us, not just for her. I am not her dog eating table scraps. I have my tricks, and when Delilah awakes again, I’ll simply tell her there was infighting in the cult, and Liliana Temult and their little moon beacon didn’t survive the fight.” There’s mirth dancing in her eyes.

Imogen absorbs this all, thinks of the broken people who come to her mother out of desperation, not out of desire for the red end. Knows that she no longer possesses the power to unleash the storm on the world even if she had ever wanted to - feels Laudna’s thoughts but cannot read them. “Will you - will you let them run, if they want to?”

“Oh, most of them will run, I expect. I won’t stop them. Unless you want me to?” For the first time, Imogen’s opinion seems to matter to her.

“No, I… no, let them go, if you can.”

Laudna nods, begins to walk towards the encampment, leaving Imogen behind in the ring of dead plants. “Wait!” Laudna stops, turns towards Imogen. “What will I do?”

A small, genuine smile from the dead woman. “Your path will be your own.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Laudna stills, looks towards the sky and squints before locking eyes with Imogen. “Sweet girl. There is a whole world. Pray that you don’t.” She turns, again, to walk towards the death and blood you have always intended for her, and then stops, and smiles again at Imogen. “May your peace find you on a lonely road, Imogen Temult.”

Laudna makes her way towards the encampment of the Ruby Vanguard. She does not turn back. Imogen looks toward the mountain - the edge of her world so long as she has lived, and she begins to walk.

[daily-batty-dose]

I need to give this blog love again!

[cal-cium-the-nerd]

life has been wild lately and i've been having trouble getting the writing worms wriggling and prioritizing, so…

[tomathomatommy]

Schmmmmmmmokinnn'!!!!!!!

[uitzinnigmp3]

.

[babygirlwolverine]

officially one more week of rotations before I am officially done with my clinical year of vet school (4 more shifts from next Monday-Thursday). 27 days until graduation. approximately 2 weeks until NAVLE scores are released and I find out if I passed and got my license or failed and have to retake the exam again in November.

so many ups and downs have happened over the last few weeks. so many high highs and low lows. some of the best days of my life and some of the most stressful moments. everything has just been so surreal and overwhelming

[wellitsjustmeagain]

The light looked pretty before I left today 💕

[twilightarcade]

HOW OLD ARE YOU !! just wondering if you'd be cool with being friends with a 19 year old (she/they pronouns for me btw) if not thats ok no pressure !!!!

Be sure to drink water & munch when you can!! You deserve it !!

Hai anon !!

Age wise... simply a mystery. Old enough to know what CDs are not old enough to have met George Washington. Surely that narrows it down a bit for you.

Realtalk though I'm cool w being friends with whoever! :3 I honestly don't age check much, if at all. For all I know someone over here could secretly be 60 and I would be blissfully unaware. Such is the way of the world at times.