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vampire will 🧛♂️🧛♂️🧛♂️
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I felt an insatiable need to draw TWoTL - the fall was just a metaphor - post Dragon take-down.
Wet, blood-drenched, bone-tired murder shower.
Heavy, fleshy bodies and filth.
Monsters in the aftermath of their adrenaline, repairing each other.
And like a fucking genius @suntosirius wrote the most perfect fic for it.
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is he your d r e a m b o y ?
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ART HISTORY MEME; 8 artists: Ivan Aivazovsky [3/8]
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artist-hopper
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hautlescoeurs-deactivated201811
David d'Angers, Wounded Philopoemen, 1837
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Roberto Ferri
exquisitemeat
Robeto Ferri’s art makes me swoon. I’ve got a favorite artist now.
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https://society6.com/aorax printshop Alaiaorax
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Finally back to ladies: here’s a pencil portrait of Katharine Isabelle as Margot Verger in Hannibal (yes, that white silhouette belongs to her beloved Alana Bloom). Available for purchase!
Counterpoint
The title is a musical term that indicates the relationship between voices that are harmonically interdependent (polyphony) yet independent in rhythm and contour.
€ 50 + shipping costs
Feel free to ask any question, you can contact me here: [email protected]
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C H O K E
(with apologies for photo quality)
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waiting quietly
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callmenephila
Lay my hands on heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars While the devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car Nothing quite like the feel of something new…
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time alone
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dagazspy-log-deactivated2020020
rewatching 2 season
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My illustration for Ch 14 of Caged in silver and iron by @allionne
…Will hesitates and looks at his knife for a moment and then he shakes his head and pushes his hands into the skull, feeling the bones under his hands. He breathes in deeply and then lets the antlers grow, vicious dark tendrils piercing through reality, entwining with the need to maul, to tear, the taste of copper on his tongue.
It takes time.
Will lets the hits rain down, his mind in an almost meditative red haze, the teeth catching again and again, bits of flesh and skin and cloth flying away, droplets of red raining down around him him. He tugs and pulls with the teeth, the splintering of bone loud in the air, dampened somehow with the snowflakes, drifting to the ground beside him. Will raises his face to the sky when he can see the heart of the man he stabbed, the whole upper body a mess, his knife marks long gone in tears and rends. He fires the rifle with the mans cold hands pressed to the trigger, dropping it close to the man.