remarried:

I’m trying to relearn to draw from references. I’m so bad at following a reference closely and this was somewhat of a failure on that front – it doesn’t look like the reference as closely as I wanted ;A;

Hello and thank you to my new watchers from EatSleepDraw! 😀 You guys are awesome.

You know that one scene where Legolas gets a bloody lip/nose (can’t remember which) in The Hobbit and looks at it in astonishment? When that happened I leaned over to my fiance and quietly quoted the film Dodgeball, saying, “No one makes me bleed my own blood.” We laughed for a good five minutes lol

thranduilings:

I HAVEN’T SEEN DODGEBALL BUT IT SOUNDS LIKE A GR8 JOKE bc it totally suits Legolas character

I GOOGLED AND EVEN FOUND A GIF FOR IT

Gallery

deerstroyer:

more vampires! Yvana, Laszlo, and Sergei

yvana is a full-blood vampire, and very big, thats a regular sized wolf she has draped over her shoulders

laszlo is some poor count who fell hopelessly in love with yvana and ended up getting turned

sergei was probably at the wrong place at the wrong time during courtesan mingling and ended up getting turned, too

tragique-incendie:

Misery. The only word that came close to describing the current life of the young plantation owner known as Louis de Pointe du Lac. Wandering aimlessly and drinking were all he could manage to do with his time as of late. Drinking, and drinking, and more drinking, but no amount of alcohol could kill this misery and it certainly wasn’t going to kill him, at least not fast enough. That was the only option in his mind at this point. To die.. to rot away to nothing in the cold ground like his brother. What peace it seemed awaited him whenever he would breathe his last.. That illusion of peace so tempting that he had been seeking it out, provoking brutish men into violence night after night. Just last evening he thought he had found his precious death, that the blade of a common street criminal might strike a vein and leave him to bleed out on the dirty cobblestone. But a powerful punch delivered to his jaw had left him penniless and unconscious, to awake simply furious an hour later on the ground. Such a sting of failure that he could not even reach the mercy of death and that his own hands could not carry out the deed no matter how he thought and thought on it. He might have hung himself from one of the ancient trees on his own property, had he the courage to slip the noose around his neck. These thoughts were madness.. absolute madness, but not like Paul’s madness. That had been full of irrepresible passion, confidence, unwavering dedication, maybe even something to admire. His own suffering had no passion. No passion for anything anymore. Only the inescapable and horrifying desire for his heart to cease its beating. This evening, he sat in a run down saloon, drinking raspberry brandy straight from the bottle and intoxicated enough that his stride was unsteady, regal clothing unkempt, and raven hair a mess of tangles. Louis threw back another swig of the sickeningly sweet liquor, tired eyes scanning the noisy bar with a challenging glimmer as he searched for the man who might, with any luck, end his life tonight.

nihilisticreiign:

            She had ALWAYS found villains more exciting
          than heroes. They had ambition, passion. They
           made the stories h a p p e n. Villains didn’t fear
           death. No, they wrapped themselves in death
           like suits of armor
! As she inhaled the school’s
         graveyard smell, she felt her BLOOD RUSH. For
                    like all villains, death didn’t scare her.
                               IT MADE HER FEEL ALIVE.