blake kathryn
One Nice Bug Per Day
YOU ARE THE REASON
wallacepolsom
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
we're not kids anymore.
Three Goblin Art
occasionally subtle
Sade Olutola
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Andulka
Xuebing Du
i don't do bad sauce passes
tannertan36
No title available
AnasAbdin
@theartofmadeline
Love Begins
Janaina Medeiros
Mike Driver
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@klaggor
[ * ] CLAGGOR, HEADCANON DIVERGENT AND POST-CANON BASED. BASED PRIMARELY AROUND ORIGINAL HEADCANONS * &. THEMES OF: ADDICTION, BODY HORROR, LOSS OF IDENTITY, TRAUMA, DISABILITY, GRIEF, SURVIVOR’S GUILT * &. GOTHIC HORROR. WRITTEN BY MILENA ( SHE / THEY, NINETEEN, GTM TIMEZONE ) AND INTRINSICALLY LINKED TO @ENVORCER’S PORTRAYAL OF VI. PRIVATE, MUTUALS ONLY, NON-SELECTIVE AND PLOTTING-CENTRIC.
information.
#dvornyags; ᵃ ᵐᵘᵗᵗ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ˒ please like or reblog if you’d be interested with writing with a lovingly headcanon-based and canon divergent dante, from 𝚍𝚖𝚌: 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚢. based on dante’s inferno, biblical lore, greek tragedy & cain and able’s myth.
more random dialogue prompts ,
“why do you have that look on your face?”
“finish what you’re doing, we have to talk.”
“what have you done to yourself?”
“did you do something different with your hair?”
“it doesn’t do any good to get worked up.”
“when was the last time we had a real conversation.”
“are you in the witness protection program, or what?”
“there’s something wrong with me.”
“no, i don’t hate you.”
“hey stupid.”
“we’re aren’t them.”
“looks like i’ll live long enough to make you pay.”
“you know you’re wrong.”
“i don’t understand, why are you doing this?”
“now, before i say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm.”
“what makes me so special?”
“you have no idea what i’ve been through.”
“you really don’t have to do that, not for me.”
“did you really think you’d get a second chance?”
"how about we don’t do that.”
“i have a lot going for me, but humility is not one of them.”
“you’re the worst.”
“i don’t need you right now.”
“don’t just stand there, looking at me.”
“i thought you were supposed to call me.”
“take my hand.”
“i need you.”
“you’re allowed to need help sometimes.”
“for someone who doesn’t like to feel things, you sure feel a lot of it out loud.”
“when this is all over, i want it to be you and me.”
“why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“you don’t know what this means to me.
“i know it doesn’t make sense.”
“i’m trying really hard to keep it together.”
“i know you’re new, but we do things a little differently here.”
“your voice is putting me to sleep.”
“did you find what you were looking for?”
"you knew and you didn’t even warn me?”
“well, i guess that’s broken.”
“i thought it was part of the act.”
“you think u don’t know you’re only here because they sent you?”
“you promised to call me if you didn’t know what to wear.”
“you can keep a secret, can’t you?”
“how could you do this to me?”
“put the gun down, dearest. i have news!”
“i know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but you need to know something.”
“if you’re here to tell me what happened last night, someone beat you to it.”
“people think i’m weird.”
“i think i’m losing myself again.”
“you can’t be here.”
“i wish you’d come to the funeral.”
“do you know what today is?”
“so, you broke my favourite mug… and you’re breaking up with me?”
“i need to get out.”
“it’s like i’m cursed or something.”
“you are remarkably well-behaved tonight, what have you been up to?”
“you gonna eat that?”
“sir, the pony rides are for children only.”
“i don’t want you to worry about that anymore.”
“we’ll never make it in time.”
“you’d be late for your own funeral.”
“you should have seen it coming.”
“oh, good, you’re here! hold this.”
“why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?”
“is this how you flirt with everyone?”
“how much longer till we’re there?”
“what have you done?”
“it’s time for you to repay that debt you owe me.”
“where did you get that? who gave it to you?”
“what kind of mother has thoughts like that?”
“i know I haven’t been what you needed, but i’m here, and i wanna help.”
“i never want to hear you say that again.”
“you’re all i have.”
“i know it’s not perfect, but i did follow the recipe this time.”
“i was doing so well until you showed up.”
“don’t eat that! i made it ‘specially for our guest.”
“it’s not that i don’t like my life, it’s that i don’t have the energy to enjoy it.”
“how can you stand this place?”
“don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly blend in.”
“you need to stop.”
“i don’t like that look, what happened?”
“is that seriously your password?”
“what’s your problem?”
“you had no right to use it without asking.”
“oh, wow, you weren’t kidding.”
“i couldn’t trust my own parents to protect me.”
“i’m surprised you haven’t been arrested yet. wait, no, i’m not.”
“why do you want to help me?”
“ten bucks for that piece of crap?”
“we have to hurry, they’re coming!”
“hey, look what came in the mail!”
“do you want to get a drink or something?”
“please tell me you didn’t eat that.”
“the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”
“if i wanted help, i would have asked.”
“wanna tell me what’s going on with your grades?”
“you need to leave.”
“talk to me, okay? i need to know what’s going on.”
“i do blame you.”
“sometimes life deals you a bad hand, but you can still play your cards right and win.”
“you’re no longer useful to me.”
“i’m not good with sarcasm: if you don’t like me, just say it.”
A STUDY ON CLAGGOR. clarice lispector, ‘THE HOUR OF THE STAR’; garrit van honthrost, ‘SAINT SEBASTIAN’ ( detail ); nicole homer, ‘UNDERBELLY’; roland barthes, ‘FRAGMENTS’; robert mapplethorpe, ‘A SEASON IN HELL’; tomberlin, ‘SEVENTEEN’; shūji terayama, ‘THROW AWAY YOUR BOOKS, RALLY IN THE STREETS ( 1971 )’; richard siken, ‘LITANY IN WHICH CERTAIN THINGS ARE CROSSED OUT’; ingmar bergman, ‘THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY ( 1961 )’.
›̲ fundamentally, claggor will never be able to see jink ( née powder ) as an adult. she will always be a little girl that latches her little hand onto the sleeve of his shirt and needs his help: she will always be his little sister and it does not matter what she does, becomes or already is. in their young lives all they’ve known is loss, and claggor isn’t willing to leave his little sister alone again.
⁽ › ⁾ elara kane, the mage of zaun
𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 /
❛ ──── i spent so long in the darkness [ … ] ❜
❛ i’d almost forgotten how BEAUTIFUL the moonlight is. ❜
FINGERS GRIP GENTLY THE COLD METAL OF A RAILING, HIS ELBOWS RESTING ATOP IT. the deep night has brought upon the surface a layer of moisture; the city weeps underneath them. beneath the balcony, the shades of neon green and purple spread to barely brush fingertips against their shadows. the light pollution of the nation of zaun did not quite reach this far, not quite yet. soon they would rise to touch the sky further and further, trespassing on the territory of piltover itself. he was hardly most’s idea of good company, he was even less a good companion.
“ you’re right, all my childhood zaun was underground. ” his smiles, in adulthood, reflects more the grin the snake had when it gave eva the apple. just once couldn’t hurt. but she’s a rare treat on his aching senses, a safe barrier of separation between the new reality and the idolatry of the new pyrite gods down below. by her side, almost more entertained watching the ant colony spreading below, stands claggor as if he’d never lost that jovial taste for the mundane no one cared to maintain anymore.
“ i only saw the moon when we went to the overworld to cause troubles for the pilties. ” an almost half-hearted chuckle; “ i guess i just never took the time to really look at the moonlight. ”
Arifin Putra in The Raid 2: Berandal (2014) dir. Gareth Evans
renni, giving her newest adopted orphan a teddy bear: ugh. i loathe children. dirty little gremlins.
i just realized that with a lot of zaun’s big fish either dead missing, there is no one left to guide and lead the underworld. i think i just came up with a new verse for legend claggor.
Clarice Lispector, The Stream of Life
claggor has adhd and one of his particular issues with processing is that he can’t fall asleep. that means that he’ll end up going several days with two or three hours of sleep a night, and grow more and more restless as time goes. find him at the wrong time in his sleep cycle and he may snap at you.
while claggor is not a particularly cruel of resentful person, and he is generally okay with helping anyone with his contacts or services ... know that he will make fun of you every step of the way. that’s the price you pay for his help: being bullied by a gentle albeit crass man.
doctor victor,
{⚙️}: Viktor’s expression darkens, just the faintest amount, as he is mocked. Not a face one often saw, was he? Was a fancy uniform truly the only thing one needed in order to remove themselves so thoroughly in the eyes of the Undercity’s people? He considers answering, but ultimately decides against it. Goading was not a productive use of his time.
A brow is quirked, however, when the other continues. One of his lectures? That was a rare claim. Viktor had only held a very select few orations during his time at the Academy, and they were usually short, and to the point. He simply disliked being the center of attention, felt uncomfortable in the spotlight. Thankfully, as he was not overly-well known among the people of Piltover, the seats at these addresses were not usually packed.
“You know of me.” he said, more of a statement than a question. He gives the stranger an analytical once-over with his eyes, “And who might you be?”
‘ oh please, i’m nobody. ’ a grin that one shouldn’t trust displayed on claggor’s pearly white teeth. his large hand offered towards the shorter man, a friendly and carefree gesture to contrast the clear dishonesty of his words. i had the marvellous opportunity of being in the audience to a lecture of yours that you gave when you were still under professor heimerdinger. he remains vague and obtuse, almost as if he wants some sort of rise out of the other. a laugh, small and contained, at his own foul joke.
‘ i’m sorry, you’ll have to forgive my poor attempt at a joke. my name is claggor, and i for a time a student at the academy before i departed for other ventures. ’ by his elegant clothes and the expensive-looking cane by his side, it’s clear from a simple observation that whatever those ventures might’ve been, claggor has done very well for himself. ‘ i was wondering if you had a moment? i would be interested in exchanging theories and discussing the sciences. ’
claggor has a permanent and sometimes painful limp, as a result of the rubble falling on him and some somewhat extensive nerve damage to his right side. as a result, he tends to walk with a cane on his off days and simply refuses to hurry or run for anyone. like the old man he is, he will often complain about having to put strain on his leg.
sister dearest of mine:
On the floor she cowered, her hands held over her head. Smoke wafted from the bomb that had been set off, its arc brushing over the floor. At Claggor’s words, her head lifted, body moving faster than her mouth.
❝ No! ❞ She crashed into him just to hide, a nasty habit to get away from all those pesky problems, and trembled against his form. ❝ It was a mistake! It was a mistake… ❞ Reminiscing those days, made worse by him being here ( ALIVE ) while Mylo lurked ( DEAD ) within her mind.
in the same way that she has grown into a bright young woman, so has claggor grown into a less than upstanding man. her small body, tucked against his front, reminds him instinctively of the far-gone days when it stormed and she’d tremble and cry at the sounds of lightning clashing on the ground.
on the same principle: a raw and tender instinct, claggor’s large arms come to wrap around and hide her from the world. his carefree and sardonic persona abandoned for a rare and pure moment of honesty. his chin rests atop the soft and messy blue hair, and his hand gently caresses down her back like mother onto a child. his voice soft and assured, making sure to hide her face so there would be nothing but darkness in her world. he’d always been the gentler of vander’s children: a gentle giant, a mountain hiding her in a warm cave of affection, because she could do no wrong under his eyes.
‘ it’s alright, just focus on me. ’ a soft and brotherly tone, warm as he picks her up. ‘ everything is alright, i’m here. i’m not going anywhere, it’s alright, your safe here. ’
sorry for being missing in action for quite a while, the holidays take a whole lot out of me to survive. hope everyone had a good time nonetheless.
am I supposed to be grateful to have survived this?
Brenna Twohy, from “I Know It’s a Little Late,” Forgive Me My Salt (via lifeinpoetry)
