#CRAVEN

[hale-nathan]

Trump Weird News - Trump Too Craven To Hold "The Nuclear Codes" --4 Star Admiral William McRaven

Trump "Lies With Reckless Abandon"

[where-is-caithe]

Craven sketches I'm never going to finish.

[preyofolympus]

Starting a Vandameer Craven Hate Club and a Melancholia St Clair Defence Club who wants to join

[witheredhorns]

Craven Rehl'ir sketches in the works~ Just missing the full body shots I've mentioned in an earlier post that it was about time canon Craven got some love and attention; there's enough art of AU demon version and I'm not terribly interested in adding to that pile any time soon

[kjudgemental]

The Hills Have Eyes (1977) dir Wes Craven

[vexknight-art]

WoL and her healer.

[wpmorse]

Outside the inn on a weathered gibbet, a woman's bones were twisting and rattling at every gust of wind.

Arya page 1027

Arya and Sandor arrive at the Inn at the Crossroads. Masha Heddle's remains still hang outside.

I'm not going to ask how Masha's skeleton hasn't started falling apart yet. However, I enjoyed using the same angle as the first time I showed her fate.

[skyaghast]

[obsidian-sphere]

Ad for Craven Tobacco from the 1930s.

"For men who know good tobaccos" and are not craven about admitting it.

[redemptioninchaos]

"Vampires is quick, but you gotta be quicka. The moment you try ta reason wit 'em, y'already got they fangs in ya neck. Treat every fuckin' thang they say as a lie. Betta yet, don't even let 'em speak. They see you as food, so treat 'em like vermin. Don't think 'bout they 'feelin's.' Only thing they should feel is yo' bullets, yo' stake rockin' they shit."

[leynaeithnea]

Vocabulary Captive Prince taught me

#99

craven

a cowardly person/ contemptibly lacking in courage; cowardly

p. 49

[where-is-caithe]

A little bit of writing for when Haven joins Cross at the beginning of PoF.

---

Haven took a long drag of a cigarette, breathed the smoke slowly through loose lips. Her eyes scanned the regulars, the two men sitting at the bar, the woman in the opposite corner, the group of men who’d come off shift at the mine outside town. Hot day like this, the Forged haunting outside the city, more people trickled in than usual. It was a small place, tucked into a corner of town no one really went unless they were headed here, opposite Zalambur’s casino. Haven preferred here, though the casino was much better for finding marks and bounties. 

A few more came in as the bartender slid another glass of whiskey her way.

“Haven, I always thought you were the tallest woman I’d ever seen,” he nodded towards the door, “but I think she might have you beat.”

Haven grinned and tilted her head quizzically before following his gaze, holding her cigarette between her fingers.

Another norn in Amnoon?

“Oh, shit.”

Taller than the ceiling, the norn ducked through the door and kept her head low as she walked to not brush against it. Long black hair in a single thick braid and square jawline, broad shouldered, strong arms, long, stalking stride in thick black boots, spiked and chained. A huge sword strapped to her back. She wore no shirt, likely to show off sweeping red and black tattoos of smoke up and down her arms and across her chest. Red pupils glowed in the low light of the bar as her gaze swept across everyone in view.

They never settled on Haven, but she stalked towards her regardless, likely she sensed her. Haven liked to give off an aura of “fuck off” when she wasn’t on duty, it was a talent she used a lot when they trained together in Hoelbrak, a talent that the woman no doubt recognized the second she stepped into the room.

Haven schooled her features as she approached, even with her heart racing with equal parts excitement and fear.

Large hands with long fingers slid across the surface of the bar as she leaned against it.

“Haven.”

A deep, even voice.

Haven couldn’t stop herself from grinning, “fancy seein’ you here in my neck of the woods, Cross.”

Cross huffed as the bartender approached, “one of what she’s having.”

While her drink was being prepared she turned to Haven, “I’m hunting a god of War.”

Haven let out a laugh, “oh you never half-ass anything, do you?”

“I was going to hire you.”

“Not to fight the god of War, I hope.”

Cross hummed in thanks as the whiskey was slid to her.

“I was told there was a bounty hunter that knew this side of the desert pretty well,” she drained the glass, “and as soon as I heard about them, I knew it was you. You’re gonna help me find War.”

Another whiskey was slid to her large hands.

“I am?” Haven took a drag, letting her fingers rest against her lips.

“You’ll be paid.”

She held the smoke in, “my favorite words,” and blew out.

Cross knew all the right things to say. Or maybe Haven had missed her more than she’d ever admit to herself. Funny. The flattery was nice, though. Haven doubted that whoever had told Cross about a rogue bounty hunter, they’d actually said her name. Being so good at hunting down impossible targets gave her a nice, fat reputation that invoked fear, and a hefty amount of cash.

“I wasn’t asking, Haven,” Cross spoke up after a moment of silence, a moment of them cradling the whiskeys they both held in their hands. “You will do this for me. And I will kill the god of War.”

Haven let out a laugh. She was right to be afraid when Cross had walked into the bar. She’d never wanted to get involved with the infamous Commander’s business, and she’d kept herself firmly outside of where she could be found, and yet here she was. Haven knew Cross would never let her refuse. That was just how she was. For as long as she had known her.

However, there wasn’t much gold to be made in the business of saving the world over and over.

And Haven would never be able to leave her again if she went with her now. She couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t bring herself to let her go again.

Haven turned to her with another grin, “well, since I can’t refuse.”

Cross downed her second whiskey and left it on the counter with a few silver coins, coins which Haven counted and saw it was enough to cover the both of them and her grin widened. She drained hers in a smooth motion and put out her cigarette in the ashtray to follow Cross out of the bar and into the hot desert sun. She lifted her hat to her head and turned to look at the woman beside her, who was already watching her with burning red pupils.

“Where is he, then, Haven?”

[preyofolympus]

Me and the lads HATE Vandanmeer Craven

[witheredhorns]

Blood Magic~ Since Ghoul Craven has some vampiric qualities to him I like the idea that he can manipulate the blood he consumes and forms it however he pleases. Only have one arm to fight? No problem; conjure one!

[litanyoc]

Do people actually even put their carved pumpkin in the fridge?

Anyway, this is your sign to watch The Crow

[ashes-16-al-wallpapers]