#Sketches Of The Red District

[bernhard-schipper]

‘Aktivist’ Digital Collage, 375 x 375 mm, 2023 Fine Art Pigment Print under Acrylic Glass, Black Aluminium Art Box

‘Activist’ is probably the most totalitarian-seeming image in the series so far. The composition consists only of visual set pieces of the socialist hero glorification in the mining industry and the German miners' song 'Vor dem Anfahren' from the Mansfelder Land from 1797. I tried to reduce the aggressive expression - not particularly successfully. Until I realized that the elements such as: danger of being buried, community, omnipresent death, uniforms, and (the built-up) ideal of serving the people are inherent in the theme and I have to accept this in order to complete the picture.

Mining is war against Earth - our home planet.

I have to admit that I have had little contact with the mining culture so far. But since the beginning of the 1990s at the latest, it has been clear that mining in Germany is a phased-out model - an industry with no future due to dwindling resources, high environmental pollution and the health consequences for employees. But politicians in eastern Germany in particular cling to the myth that fossil resources never run out - also because they have failed to develop sustainable alternatives and perspectives. Mining has caused irreparable damage to the landscape and has irrevocably destroyed autochthonous culture, especially in the opencast mining areas of East Germany. Mining companies criminally mislead the public when it comes to water extraction from ecosystems.

Ultimately, the glorification of fossil fuel industries can no longer be justified. This is not to deny the achievements, hardships and sacrifices made by miners and their families for centuries. The picture is dedicated to them.

[ludagubi]

They're my children now

[gnarlycrys]

Haha, stinky man.

[kimetsunoyaiba-sketch]

[cotl-flower-crown]

Wip showcase

I most likely won't be finishing any of these WIPs, but I figured that I might as well show them off already

This might be a bit long

Obligatory Bishop doodle

They turned out a bit boring tho. I wanted to redraw them properly, both with their bishop forms and follower forms, but I don't think that's happening any time soon.

The Lamb before the execution, aka Kora

That is Angel, before they became the Leader. They were born in the Lands of the Old Faith right before the Sheep Genocide begun. Them and their parents were fated to live a life on the run. It wasn't always bad, but it wasn't easy. Their parents sacrificed a lot to raise them. As you can see one of the sketches is unfinished.

Cotltober "You are what you eat" prompt

Gave up halfway into this drawing, but I think it would be a waste not to show it off. Like to think that the Lamb actually devours the hearts of the bishops to get upgrades

Cotl Red District (gang au) oc

A red panda that Grinder used to know very well in his high school years

Angel's harem

Yes, Angel was supposed to have a harem. Funnily enough, most of them are women. Even funnier, only one of them is not jealous of the other spouses. I wouldn't be surprised if Angel thought for the longest of times that they were a lesbian. First one is Nana, the first follower of the Lamb, second is Ruri, third Sylvia (my OC) and at the last is Narinder, the latest addition to the team. The wives tend to exclude him though, due to the clear favorism from Lamb's side. Well, mostly Nana does, the other two understand Lamb's infatuation.

I wanted to make more doodles of them interracting with each other and a relationship chart, but I've been putting it off for a long time already and I doubt I'll ever get to it

And lastly there is a series of VERY rough sketches for Red District AU lore Those were supposed be Lambert's Isaac's (yes, I changed his name) family photos to depict the family dynamic in his life before he met Grinder

The first one is a wedding photo of his parents. They married young, Isaac's father is beaming, while his mother has more of a toned kind of happiness on her face. She's posing, which is going to be a pattern in these photos.

Second depicts the parents holding their first son, Isaac's older brother. They both look very happy, as they pose for the picture in embrace. A nice heartfelt photo.

Third one is where the tone shifts. It was taken some time after Isaac was born. His father, looking noticably more tired, holds newborn Isaac, while the mother happily clings to her first born son. Shouldn't it be the other way around though? Notably, there is also a bit of a space between the parents, they no longer as much as touch each other.

Fourth one is taken after the birth of Isaac's younger sister. There's notable variety of expressions here. Most of them are clearly forcing themselves to strike a nice pose for the photo. Couldn't hide father's judging look as he observes his wife holding a child that looks vastly more different than any of them, nor could it hide the mother feeling said look like sins crawling on her back. It kinda looks like the parents just finished an argument. Why did they decide to keep it?

Fifth picture is a graduation day for Isaac's brother. The mother is leaning on her unimpressed first son proudly, while holding her daughter closely. Meanwhile Isaac and his dad stand around as if they're not supposed to be there, tired, but still smiling for the picture. Isaac is notably thinner and than anyone else in the photo.

Sixth sketch is about Isaac's graduation. The older brother is not in the picture anymore, off in the college, arguably couldn't bother. Isaac is flusterred by the attention he's getting from his dad, who's clearly doing his best to make up for the lack of attention from his mother. She's just there to strike a pose and look pretty, holding her lovely daughter as if trying to shield her from Isaac.

Seventh picture is of Isaac's sister and her graduation. For one reason or the other, Isaac and his older brother are not in the view. Her mother haven't been this happy since the birthday of her first son, while the sister herself looks more like she's trying her best not to cry. At that point the young girl looks vastly more different than how she looked when she was a child, and clearly she's not happy. Meanwhile the father looks too tired to even acknowledge her hidden despair.

Eighth picture is a complete family photo with the parents and their grown up children. The eldest doesn't seem to care at all, the youngest looks clearly uncomfortable with the presence of either of her older brothers, and Isaac is trying his best to ignore his mother's killer stare with a cute pose. She's clearly not happy with his presence there. The father tries to pleadingly look at his wife, but she doesn't even acknowledge him.

Nineth picture... Welp It is chaos. While Isaac is strangling his mother on the dinner table, the sister is cowering in the corner as their father is rushing in to help in panic. The eldest brother, who's haven't been off his phone the entire time is taking the photo among many.

The dialogue in the 10th picture goes as follow, in case my writing is too hard to read. It was written before I decided to change Isaac's name: Grinder: "Lambert, this is a proof of crime. I think you should get rid of it." Lambert/Isaac: "Aww, that's my favourite one tho!"

Thanks for reading!

[honeyywoods]

give me Davey who is wildly obsessed with Victorian flower language and Jack who begs Medda to teach him about it so that he can save money to make Davey the perfect flower arrangement

(or, alternatively, Jack going to the flower district to sketch certain flowers he wants to use to learn their shapes and then painting the arrangement later when he gets to Medda’s, because it’ll last longer)

and when he invites Davey to the theatre one night, Davey isn’t expecting much. then Jack tells him to close his eyes and he waits there dutifully until Jack tells him to look, and when he does whatever snarky quip he had been about to say dies in his throat. because he’s looking over the arrangement, eyes flitting between pinks and reds and purples as he processes each of their meanings. he cries. bawls like a baby and Jack gets worried that he fucked up and accidentally insulted Davey or something in flower language but then Davey kisses him and when he pulls back he’s finally found his voice again, saying that it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for him. anyways.

[storydays]

Radio Killed Video Star P1

(3rd POV)

(Y/N) sat in his favorite seat as he continued drawing in his sketchbook, listening as Charlie paced nervously back and forth, and rant. He snickered as KeeKee paced back and forth with his sister.

"Okay. So the extermination is coming in 6 months instead of a year. No big deal, just a little setback. Nothing we can't handle. Just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!" Charlie asked manically.

"Yes. We will." Vaggie caught Charlie gripped her arms soothingly.

"Oh, please, ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit." Angel waved his hands around. "And now..." he paused as his phone buzzed angrily. "Ain't no silver lining this time, toots." He muttered.

"Sure there is. We just have to look a little harder for it." Charlie tried to remain positive. "Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts. People are already freaking out about the news." Angel waved his phone in the other's faces. "Look at what's happenin' in the Doomsday District." The tech revealed a demon screaming, as another message appeared on Angel's screen.

"Uh, what's a donkey show?" Charlie asked, squinting her eyes at the message. (Y/N) grimaced as he eyed Angel suspiciously.

"Aah, heh, nothing," Angel wouldn't dare ruin the princess's innocence. Especially not with her brother right fuckin' there! "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news, too." He covered his phone from curious, (or suspicious) eyes, before shrugging his shoulders. "Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

Vaggie looked up from where she was watching (Y/N) sketch. "Yeah, that's true. Sinners are desperate." "Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?" (Y/N) thought aloud, tapping his pencil against his lip.

Charlie gasped, breaking into a wide grin. "This is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!" Angel raised an eyebrow. "Cute idea and all, but you really going out in all of this?"

"Well, it's not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep." Charlie shrugged before yelping as an loud explosion disrupted the hotel.

"Show yourself, Alastor!" hissed a snake demon dramatically. "Come and face--" He paused looking for the Radio Demon, before catching sight of him sipping coffee, wearing a giant grin as usual. "Oh, there you are." The snake murmured. "FACE MY WRATH!" He hissed, over the speaker.

"Who are you?" asked Alastor raising an eyebrow.

"Who am I? Who am I? I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villan extraordinare!" During this introduction, Alastor melted into his shadow before appearing next to the Hazbin crew. Charlie looking in shock, Vaggie in annoyance, Angel with a raised brow, and crossed arms, and (Y/N) with a curious look.

"Woo! You tell 'em, boss." came a goofy voice over the loudspeaker.

Niffty gasped excitedly, as she popped on Alastor's shoulder. "Ooh, he's a bad boy."

Alastor huffed, as he gently set her down. "Huh, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you. Have you heard of him, (Y/N)?" The prince side eyed the red clad demon, sending him a look that said, 'Bitch...leave me out of this.'

"I attacked you literally last week." Pentious deadpanned, feeling irate as Alastor tilted his head in thought, narrowing his eyes. "We've done battle, like...20 times." the snake prompted.

"Well, you must be really bad at this." snarked the deer demon. "Silence! Now cower! For when I've slain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal!" Pentious laughed.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Niffty as she found her way back on Alastor's shoulders. "Wait, who are the Vees?" she asked. "Oh, nobody important." Alastor rolled his eyes, a slight twitch in his brow at the thought of the Overlords.

*Meanwhile in the city*

"New VoxTek designer voyeur scopes. Peeping on the neighbors have never been more stylish. VoxTek. Trust us with your money." cooed the TV announcer as demons ran into the stores. "This week's episode of "Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What? is brought to you by VoxTek. Trust us with your entertainment. VoxTek. Trust us. Trustustrustustrustustrustus...." The phrase continued to repeat a TV demon grinned from the electrical shocks coming from the tech in demons hands.

"Hahaha! Now that's good television!" His laughing fit was cut short by a phone call coming in on his screen. With a grin, he answered the call to reveal a scowling demoness.

"Hello there, Velvette. How are you this hellish morning?" He grinned into his coffee mug, turning away to another screen, working on something.

"Oh, cut the shit, Vox. I need you up here now!" Velvette snapped.

"Whatever could be the problem, my dear?" Vox asked. "Your little boy toy is wrecking my department while I'm trying to pull together a show and--" She was cut off by a male voice yelling, "Fucking bitch!"

Scowling deeper, she turned towards the screen. "Just get your ass here. Now! Dammit Valentino!" Velvette screeched, hanging up.

Vox's smile dropped as he sighed in irritation. "Oh God, here I go. Valentino. Just another fuckin' day with Val." He crossed his arms behind his back as he walked towards the lift. "Hey, hey, hey. Fuck my life." Vox scowled.

As the lift took him up to the main floor, he plastered a fake smile on his face. "Mr Vox! Mr Vox!" called multiple reporters as he approached. "Mr Vox! Over here!" They called before one demoness caught his attention, "Mr Vox, what are your thoughts on the new extermination deadline?" she asked.

"My dear people, we at VoxTek Enterprises have always been at the forefront of innovation. And now with this oncoming threat, we are shifting our focus to your protection. We are pleased to announce VoxTek Angelic Security is coming soon! Trust us with your saftey." Vox grinned, hypnotizing the crowd.

"Sir? Uh, when did we begin working on Angelic Security?" asked an assistant nervously. "30 seconds ago. " Muttered Vox as he walked pass the press, the assistant following.

"Try to get that bitch Carmilla on the books and cancel all my appointments today. I have a fire to put out upstairs." Vox rolled his eyes before disappearing into a camera to travel faster.

*Up on Velvette's floor.*

"Ugh, no. Unacceptable. You're fired." Velvette hissed at the designers, before zeroing in on one dress. "What is this? Wrist ruffles? Is it 1750? Burn it like the witches who wore it." The designer scurried away.

"Oh, Velvette." chuckled Vox as he appeared, watching the social media fashion designer demoness rub her temples. "I can see you're busy.Tell me where's our hot headed friend now?"

"Up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down. " She shrugged. Sighing deeply, Vox put a grin on his face. "And uh, what's got him so out of sorts today?"

"Who knows? But he tore up my best female model!" Velvette grabbed a dismembered arm and used to start pointing at the TV demon, making him grin as he watched the pink haired demoness throw the arm. "And you know the show can't wait for that unlucky bitch to pull herself together."

"Melissa, get over here!" she called her next best female model. "No,no. Hideous, I want to do. Eww." Using her magic, she shuffled the outfits until a box with a bow appeared in front of Velvette. She quickly read the card, "Vel, sorry I can't make the show, but here are a few inspirations. ~ (Cute Nickname).❤️"Velvette grinned before using her magic again to put the newer designs on. "Yes, that's the one!"

"Well, it looks like you've got everything under control here." Vox grinned as Velvette playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. Fuck you. Now shoo! Take care of the piss baby." She rolled her eyes again, before opening her phone to send a thank you text to a certain blond prince.

*Up by Valentino's office.*

Vox eyed the two assistants as they opened the door, before walking into the penthouse, raising an eyebrow at the figure sitting in a red cloud of smoke. The figure took notice of Vox's arrival, and sat up, glaring. "FUCKIN' FINALLY!"

The red figure threw a drink at the wall, turning to the assistant , "Kitty, another drink!" he demanded, the robot smiled before disappearing, and returning with a drink.

"Can you believe what that piece of shit did? The ungrateful whore!" He smashed the drink against the wall, making Vox simply step side the incoming glass.

"Um, which whore are we talkin' about this time?" Vox asked, boredly. "Fucking Angel Dust." He hissed. "Who the hell else would I be talking about?" Vox attempted to answer before Valentino stormed off. "That fucking slut walked out on me. Me. I fucking made him." The moth turned towards the window, while Vox pulled out his phone, checking his cameras.

"Without me, he's just a bag of meat with some mildly entertaining holes." Valentino squeaked as he made hand gestures.

"Angel quit?" Vox asked happily with a giant grin.

"No, he didn't fucking quit. It's worse; he moved!" roared the Moth as he threw Vox's phone against the wall, ignoring the annoyed look the TV demon sent at his hand as if realizing what happened. "He thinks he can just walk in here, work, and then go home somewhere else? Can you fucking believe that?"

"He thinks he can run off and shack up with Lucifer's bimbo daughter." Val grumbled as he stalked to a closet. "Angel is living with Lucifer's daughter now?" questioned Vox, as he turned towards the other overlord.

"Yeah, that bitch. Chalkie or Chandler, or I don't know. Something mannish like that. She's got this hotel--" Valentio paused before turning around with a pair of guns in his hands. "And which of these makes me look sexier?" he purred with a smirk.

Vox forced a laugh through his teeth. "What are you doing, Val? You're not going over there." He said firmly, using his hypnosis power.

"That slippery twink is going to remember who owns him. I'm going to fuck everyone on the rancid shithole, I swear to God." hissed Valentino.

Vox snapped grabbing the pimp by his fur, face lit up, a scowl on his face. "VAL!"

Plastering a smile on his face, he chuckled, as they walked together to look out the window. "Think about it: Our brand is perfection. And what do you think chasing whores around town will do for our image?" He asked,snatching the guns from Valentino.

"Uhh...fuck it up?" Val questioned. "Right!" grinned Vox, using a game show sound effect of cheers. "Do you want people thinking you can't control your employees?"

"No!" snapped the moth.

"Exactly. And hey, you still have him under contract, he isn't going anywhere. So you should....?" prompted Vox.

"Do nothing?" replied Val, hesitantly.

"Great idea! Now that's why they pay you the big bucks." Vox patted the moth's cheek, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his back.

"But I really wanted to shoot someone." sighed Val as he held out a cigarette, waiting for Vox to light it.

Vox peeked an eye open before lighting the cigarette with a heart. "Well, let me call up the lowest earners this month." he compromised.

"Ooh, you know me too well." Valentino purred, chuckling darkly.

As Vox rummaged through the drawers, Val smirked. "You know, Angel isn't the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil's princessa." "Oh, who else is there? Someone who owes you money?" Vox asked boredly.

Chuckling, Val continued, "Someone who owes us much more than money. The Radio Demon is there."

Vox glitched, digging his nails into the desk, before chuckling lowly. "Hahaha, what did you just say?" He asked, darkly, his hypnosis eye glowing, 3 lines on his face, showing his anger.

"You heard me."

"Alastor came back and he is with Lucifer's daughter," Vox started softly, slowly getting angry, "and that wasn't the first fucking thing you told me?!" He screamed, grabbing the moth's fur again.

"Hey, killing Alastor is your thing." grinned Val, as he watched the TV overlord zoom over to his cameras.

*Back at the hotel*

Sir Pentious yelled out in pain. "Arrgh. Oh! Please! Stop!" he begged as Alastor used his shadows to torture the poor demon.

"Um, Alastor?" called Charlie nervously. "I think he's had enough." Alastor continued to laugh loudly. Angel narrowed his eyes as if thinking before smirking, "Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im!"

Alastor tilted the blimp so the snake fell out and on the floor. "Thanks for another forgettable experience." Alastor swung his can around before leaning on it, looking at the snake mockingly.

"Thank you...for letting your guard down! Haha! Yah!" laughed Pentious as he snagged a piece of the Radio Demon's coat, before cowering. "Oh shit." He yelped seeing Alastor's shadow grow.

An explosion sent Sir Pentious flying, his scream echoing. "Arghhhhhhh!!!!"

Alastor watched with a grin before turning towards the rest of the Hotel members.

"Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor. Best of luck, chums." He waved before walking away.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie asked, "Alastor, we need your help! We need you to do your job."

"We need a wall." Angel deadpanned, gesturing to the broken wall.

"Of course. Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?" The deer asked, snapping his fingers before walking away. In his place, were a bunch of shadow demons with tools in their hands.

(Y/N) perked up, seeing the shadows. "Yo, Tommy, wassup, man?" He grinned, fist bumping another shadow who grinned back.

"Oh!: Angel giggled, shoving Vaggie to the side, before sashaying over to (Y/N) and the shadow demon. "Hey, sweet cheeks, who's your friend?" Leaning on the shadow's shoulder, he grinned. "Whatcha doin' later? I love me some men with giant....tools." Angel used his second pair of hands, to caress (Y/N)'s waist, and pull at his belt loop, suggestively, and his upper hands resting on Tommy's shoulder.

(Y/N) squeaked, cheeks a bright red, matching Charlie's before teleporting somewhere else in a vortex of shadows. Angel smirked to himself, 'Prince-y is so easy to rile up; and he's so cute when he's all flustered.' Angel didn't even realize how his own cheeks were a faint pink.

*Back at the Vs tower*

"See? Look how he flirts with those guys, and their not even paying! Who is that shadow dude? I'm gonna fucking kill his whole family! And the Lucifer's bastard son is there too? What the fuck?! Vox? Vox?!" He snapped, slamming a hand on the desk.

Vox continued to ignore him, as he buzzed with electricity, as he watched the Radio Demon walk away.

"That fucker is back!" He hissed.

"Yeah, I thought he was gone for good, too." replied Val as he continued to rile up the TV demon.

"It's been seven years." Vox growled.

"You still pissed he almost beat you that time?" cooed the moth.

"Uh, fuck you." spat Vox.

"Just saying," sang the heart themed pimp, as he leaned against the desk.

"Things have changed a lot since he left town." monologued Vox. "That's for sure." Val agreed.

"I've gotta send a message of who's really in charge now." Vox and Val chuckled darkly.

*With (Y/N)*

Hidden away in his bedroom, (Y/N) stood, staring at nothing before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. (Y/N)'s dog, Rocco, watched lazily from the prince's bed.

After his screaming fit, (Y/N) grabbed one of his sketch books, and leaned against his bed, and flipped through the pages, smiling at the multiple sketches of Angel Dust, and just thinking. (Y/N)'s dog, Rocco, barked happily before curling next to his boy.

(Y/N) would rather have his wings cut off with Vaggie's angelic spear then ever let the spider see this journal. Even with all the sexual innuendos and comments, (Y/N) was still intrigued by Angel, and wanted to see what was underneath.

He just wish he wasn't so damn easy to fluster. Angel 100% took advantage of that fact, but he couldn't help it. Yes, he grew up in Hell, and always had admiring fans wherever he went, but they only wanted the tittle.

Angel hadn't even known he was the prince until he'd appeared at the hotel after the failure that was the interview Charlie had with Katie Killjoy.

At the thought of the bitch, (Y/N) scowled.

Charlie told him what she said about the gays, and the next day, Katie's hair was burned off, and she was missing a few limbs, (they'll grow back...eventually...painfully 😈 ). When Charlie found out, she cast a look at her brother, who gave her a devilish grin, briefly showing her his demon form he kept carefully hidden.

It sucks that people don't give Charlie the respect that they give (Y/N); but Charlie also knew her brother had a darker side that an even greater respect to his name.

But Charlie introduced him as (Y/N), and Angel treated him like a normal person. Well, normal as it is for Angel. Even when Alastor greeted him as 'Prince', Angel continued to talk shit and flirt with (Y/N).

"Just because you got dat crown on your head, don't mean that's all you are. You'll always be (Y/N) to me." The Italian explained, seeing as (Y/N) was confused. When people realize who he is, they act completely different. But Angel acted like they were long time friends....(Y/N) hadn't had that since he was a helling himself.

Ever since then, the Spider had slowly made his way into (Y/N)'s heart.

When Angel didn't think anyone was watching, he would reveal a softer side, especially when it comes to his beloved pig, Fat Nuggets.

Sighing, (Y/N) curled on his side, Rocco, rumbling lowly before curling in (Y/N)'s outstretch arms, snuggling closer for warmth.

"One day, I'll tell him~❤️."

*A/N: Sorry for the delay! My dad is in the hospital, so I went to check on him and hang out; will keep you guys updated and see y'all next time!*

@avatar-lover

[annebaby]

small Coryo story! i’m rlly bored and im a new writer so pls be patient with me! 🎀

Snow Lands on Top

warnings: superrr soft, kissing, romantic!!!! that’s all i think,,, pls lmk!

Coriolanus Snow. The name that had become so feared all throughout Panem. The icy blonde hair and stabbing blue eyes were a symbol of hate, destruction, and pure evil. Rumor has it that he killed his one true love, Lucy Gray, to keep her from telling secrets about him. Surely it wasn’t true, besides it was only a rumor.

You chose to not believe in the rumors and to not fall into the trap of fear he uses to gain more and more power. He was your new partner after all. A new intern game maker, here to slowly climb his way up into succession. You, however, were not born into the capitol life. Hard work and our determination had got you were you are today.

As a child growing up in district 3, you should be terrified of Snow. Instead, something about him intrigued you. You found his sense of power and control quite attractive, honestly.

So now, you’re looking at the man feared so deeply, awaiting to hear his next suggestion on the terrain of next year’s arena. It’s so difficult not to focus on the way his fingers sketch, the way he bites his lip while focusing, oh you could go on and on. Was this man really that bad?

“Seeing something you like, Y/N?” He asks. His eyes move up to you, initiating goosebumps through your entire body.

“Uh, yeah,” you speak nervously. “I really like how you added the river there, but let’s extend it more South.” As you reach over to show where you want the river to end, you accidentally brush his hand and immediately pull back, mentally cursing yourself.

You pretend as though it didn’t happen, and look to him for his opinion on your suggestion. He draws the river down further South, before smiling down at the map.

“I like the way you think, Y/N.”

You blushed so intensely that you were sure he noticed. You whispered a small ‘thanks’ before analyzing the map even more, trying not to get distracted by the smallest of things to do with Coriolanus Snow.

An hour passes by as something outside catches your eye. It’s snowing outside. You quickly walk to the open window on the floor you’re on, and peer outside like a little kid. Snow was coming down hard, and it quickly started to cover the ground below.

“Coriolanus, it’s snowing! Come look!” You gesture for him to come over, which he reluctantly agrees to. You both watch the snow falling down before Coriolanus speaks up.

“I’ve always loved snow. Makes me think of my family,” he says, quietly. You look up at him before returning to the table and grabbing your coat. You grab his deep red jacket as well, and return to hand it to him.

Discarding all fear and hesitancy, you hand him the jacket as he stares at you, confused.

“Let’s go outside, you know you want to!” You smile up at him before donning your coat and slowly walking towards the elevators of the building.

“Come on! We deserve a break, and you said it yourself - you love snow!”

He shakes his head, smiling before joining you on the elevator ride down. Little do you know, these small moments of child-like activities make him dizzy over you.

He too had felt a connection with you, one that was comforting and non-demanding. He loved the way your auburn hair would fall in your eyes and he loved watching you follow his movements regarding the map. Every now and then he’d think about speaking with you about these feelings, but he would never get himself to do so. He’s a Snow, after all.

The elevator dinged as you both reached the base floor. Hurrying past the guard, you were in a rush to open the doors and feel the cold air hit your face.

The snow was plummeting down with more snowflakes you could’ve ever imagined. The ground was already fully covered in snow, and it was the sticky kind.

Coriolanus joined you outside, mainly just watching you play and catch the snow. He noticed all the beautiful parts about you. He admired the snowflakes in your hair, your rosy cheeks in the cold, and your pearly white smile. You looked like a child, drowning in pure bliss.

As Coriolanus was too busy in a trance, you bent down and started to make a small snowball to pitch at him. You threw it, successfully hitting him in the chest. You were surprised that he didn’t get angry with you, instead he laughed and started to make an even larger snowball, and cast it at you.

The most feared man having a snowball fight with his partner in game making. Who would’ve thought? You played in the snow for 20 minutes or so before returning to the warmth of the laboratory.

The elevator ride seemed off. It was an awkward quiet with the two of you inside alone, but the quiet was surprisingly comforting as well. You tried your best to ignore the rosy cheeks of the man next to you, but he looked so delightful. You took his hand in yours, gently.

Little had you known, Coriolanus was just about to grab your hand as well. When you matched his action on time, he briskly turned you to face him. He looked down at you quickly, before gently leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. It was a quick kiss, nothing too dramatic. He hadn’t done anything like that since Lucy Gray. He pulled away shortly, then hearing the elevator ding.

You stared up at him, surprised of what he had done. Smiling, you pressed the ‘close door’ button on the elevator, and continued to kiss him even sweeter.

[vesteneris]

I love your Annie design soo much and the hc that her stylist dyed her hair red to match the capitol fashion more, I was wondering if you have any more Annie hcs? I would love to hear them ^^

ofc i have more hc, and sketches! >my Annie was a confident career >if it comes to her look she was latina with dark curly hair, and freackles all over her body

>from kinda rich family, her father had few fishing boats and she was going to take over the buisness after him, she was working with 16 yo old boy, who was later in the games with her (he was not a career and she didn’t know he would be in the games before volounteering)

>her bodycount in the games was 2 (bloodbath and the last standing opponent) on her own and next 3 when she was working with her District partner, so 5 in totall, and it was Annie's idea to cause an avalanche of rocks that crushed their camp, my girlie was determined to win

>my arena for 70th games is inspired by the Green Canyon in Turkey, mostly bc there is a dam right there

>when everyone was thinking about her as a confident career she mostly wear bright solid colours

(Everyday working clothes, Reaping outfit, 2 in-between-the-trainings outfits, and dress for the interview with ceasar)

>shes pretty tall (about 178cm)

>after her victory when everyone thought that she win because of her luck not her skills, her stylist starts to dress her in pastel colours that washed her out, to make her look more pale and innocent

>they also dyied her hair red and straighten it, get rid of most of her freackles, starts to just in general making her more white, just everything to make her look more Capitol

>when they finally become a couple with finnick i imagine theyre dynamic kinda like this

Like, c’mon, theyre both teenagers basicly, ofc they’ll be stupid together

>more than 1 year after her games annie could function pretty well (like, for her, not totally at her own, still with nightmares and with screaming crying throwing up, losing in her own thoughts etc) but whenever she would be put in public the capitol would put her on so many calming drugs to make sure she wouldn’t make a scene that she couldn’t even speak and wasn’t mentally present at all

>the whole crown for a Victor from president Snow? Don’t remember a thing. Learn that she was crowned from posters and tv

>thats kinda how her friendship with Johanna started, the new Victor was asked to hang out with previous games winner to make it look like Annie was cool and normal

>theyre trio of besties, Annie, Finnick and Johanna, No one can change my mind

thank you very much for the question anon, I’m just so happy that someone asked me this, I love talking about my version of Annie

[vehwill]

In the end I managed to sketch a partisan scene for Veneziano. I tried for a long time! I leave you in the company of one of the partisan songs that strikes me most, "Fischia il Vento", inspired by "Katyusha", the famous Russian song by Mikhail Isakovski. Sung almost everywhere by the various brigades, it was perhaps the most performed song during the Resistance. The author of the text, Felice Cascione, commander of Garibaldi's II Assault Division of Imperia, died in the mountains of the province of Cuneo in 1944 in a firefight with the fascists. Only a few days earlier he had composed this song which then, spontaneously, began to spread so much that it became a true partisan anthem. Beppe Fenoglio, in the famous novel "The Partisan Johnny" writes: "The wind whistles" is a real weapon against the fascists. It drives them crazy, they tell me, just hearing it."

Translation "The wind whistles":

The wind whistles and the storm rages, broken shoes and still we have to go to conquer the red spring where the sun of the future rises. To conquer the red spring where the sun of the future rises.

Every district is the homeland of the rebel, every woman gives him a sigh, in the night the stars guide him, strong heart and arm in striking. In the night the stars guide him, strong heart and arm in striking.

If cruel death overtakes us, harsh revenge will come from the partisan; the harsh fate is already certain of the vile and traitor fascist. The harsh fate is now certain of the vile and traitor fascist.

The wind stops, the storm is calm, the proud partisan returns home, waving his red flag; victorious, we are free in the end. Waving his red flag victorious and free we are, in the end!

[frostmarris]

heart eater, bloodletter

Suigetsu/Sakura | Morally Grey!Sakura | Pirate/Fantasy AU

summary: Mutiny, mayhem, murder - the moon will be blood red tonight.

additional tags: Pirates & Sailors, Witchcraft, blood and gore warning

notes: Suigetsu needs to get a doctor and the doctor needs his blood

written for the @akasakurevival 3 Artists, 1 Writer challenge! writers spun wheels for ships/prompts and a team of artists was randomly selected via wheel to create a collaborative fanart for the fic! I got Suigetsu/Sakura and Morally Grey!Sakura 👀 (i got a little carried away)

my artists were @arichii98 (sketch) @artofmintea (lines) and @hallous (colors)! Art is embedded in the fic hehe

The air is crisp and clean, sea salt and the scent of weathered wood surrounding him like a familiar blanket. It's different here on the coast, back on land, compared to out on the water. The ocean spray isn’t a constant bombardment against his face and the deafening crash and roar of the waves, the creaking and groaning of the ship, and the shouting and jaunts of the crew have finally gone silent.

Instead, there's the pleasant chatter of the townsfolk as they go about their morning business. Haggling in the market, pleasantries exchanged in passing, and laughter from old friends as they discuss the day ahead and the week passed. Suigetsu can't help but grin as he strolls down the main road of the market district, enjoying the feeling of steady stone ground underfoot. It's been four months since the crew had last made port and he'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to not be rocked back and forth and nearly thrown off his feet by rough waters. He spots a few other crew around as he explores, but they all either pay him no mind or send him a less than pleasant look.

The energy on the ship had been… tense, the past two weeks. Hurried, hush discussions in the crew quarters-

(Occasionally followed by a dirty look and a door closed in his face when he happened to pass by, the voices growing even more hushed as he tried to linger and eavesdrop - What were they saying? What was going on?)

- and a cold shoulder or twelve out on the deck. Suigetsu was the youngest of the crew by several years, but this certainly wasn't some sort of ageist exclusion. They were up to something , and the growing, nagging feeling had left him with restless sleep and far too many wary glances over his shoulder.

And, with the captain staying confined to his cabin the past five days, due to a growing ailment, he knew that everything would be coming to a head sooner rather than later.

[mgnemesi]

MORE Repliroid Inosuke because I'm obsessed. AND. Don't have time to do more than some random BIC sketches right now. I've recreated the scene from the Red District Arc where Gyutaro stabs Inosuke. Onto other news, I've got the whole story now!!!! It's a tragedy. But it ends well! But it's a tragedy first and foremost.

[kimetsunoyaiba-sketch]

[cb-writes-stuff]

Project Opal Masterpost

It finally exists! This will be updated frequently, whenever I post a new thing that should go on here. If something is red, then that means it’s coming soon.

What is Project Opal about?

Snippets

1: Opening scene

Loredumps and Worldbuilding

On Kem lon-Dalan; architecture in the Living District (it’s below the cut)

What do people eat in Kem lon-Dalan?

What landmarks are in Kem lon-Dalan?

How do I come up with words for Vandeth?

Keitalen, Geitalen; How Time is Measured in the Vandeth Desert

How are the Kemen governed? And what are the laws like?

What are the Gilded Palm and Enveil’s Company?

Map of Kem lon-Dalan

Religion in Project Opal, Part 1

Religion in Project Opal, Part 2

Religion in Project Opal, Part 3

Vandeth words for family members

Facts about Veuketzlind

Other Fun Things

Character sketches

Nauth character bio

Ven character bio

Lynn character bio

Mela character bio

Elvi character bio

Elial character bio

William character bio

Gloria character bio

Sils character bio

(Not related to Project Opal) Khione and Lila loredump

What are my inspirations for Project Opal?

What do the characters think of their bosses?

Progress Updates

Too many to list here. They have tiny bits of stuff I wrote, though, so maybe you wanted to go through them. You can find (hopefully) most of them here.

[ugh-whyy]

A sketch of my AU Mileena. She is one of Onaga's closest advisors and performs in the red-light district part-time. She dyed her hair to resemble Sindel and uses a variety of fans in her performances, similar to Kitana. Is this a tribute to the two, or a mockery? Only she and Onaga truly know. Click for better quality.

[vlad-theimplier]

WIP Wednesday: Custos Custodium

This week, the Neuromancer influences get dialed up (briefly) as Jensen visits the Red Light district. Then it gets kind of Warhammer 40K: I had to resist having Allison say, "From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me," and so forth. Attain the strength and certainty of steel for yourself here.

The holographic crimson strippers lining the cobbled streets made for a lurid welcoming committee to the Red Light District. They gyrated obscenely in mid-air, some dancing without props, some working an insubstantial pole, beckoning and blowing kisses as their sensors picked up passers-by. Jensen sniffed. Tourist stuff, and to someone who’d seen the holo setup underneath Picus’ Montreal headquarters, little better than a low-res Playboy pinup downloaded one pixel at a time over shrieking nineties dial-up.

The Red Queen dominated the District’s central plaza, its décor a panoply of playing cards. Real women and men twirled and beckoned in the second-floor windows. One twitched her curtains closed as he watched, a moment after he saw the door behind her emit a sliver of light. He bypassed it and made a beeline for the comparatively tame signage of the Irish Stool.

Inside, it was blessedly quiet, the thumping bass of the clubs muted by thick glass windows. The patrons here knew what they liked, and what they liked was a beer and a bit of elbow room. Authentic indeed. He’d have to come by some time when he wasn’t working a case. Idly, he wondered whether they shipped in a morose fiddler, too, to complete the ambiance, then spotted a stool and a mic stand in the corner. He must have missed live music night. And maybe Stanek, too—no sign of him on the ground floor. He headed downstairs.

The cavernous basement area was even quieter. Jensen looked around and spotted Stanek at once, nursing a pint at a two-top. Montañez slouched at the table nearest the stairs, ass hooked on the edge of a seat, and Riley sketched a salute from the bar itself. Jensen nodded to him and bumped elbows with Montañez as he strolled past. Riley was pretending to drink something red. Jensen appropriated it ruthlessly and plopped down at Stanek’s table.

The watchmaker’s face brightened as he sat, then closed, then grew curious. “Na někoho čekám,” he said. “I’m expecting someone… Wait a minute. I know you. You’ve been in my shop. What’s going on?”

“You have some things to answer for, Mister Stanek. We have evidence linking you and your shop to the train station bombing.”

“Bombing…? No! I would never—I wouldn’t even know where to start! You have the wrong man. And I don’t have a staff. It’s only a small shop, you know that, don’t you, Mister… Jensen, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. Think, Mister Stanek. Is there anyone else who would have access to your shop? Or your tools, or components?”

Stanek shook his head slowly. “No… no, there is only me and my—” He cut himself off abruptly.

“Your daughter?”

“No! No, not—” Creeping horror gave way to determination on his square face, his eyebrows meeting over his nose and his jaw setting. “Look, take me in. I am the one you are looking for. I—I have made bombs for them.”

“Uh-huh.”

“They tricked me!” Stanek improvised, transparently. “They had me make the timers, but they never told me what they were for!”

“I don’t think so. Protecting your daughter is admirable, Mister Stanek. But you’re not doing her any good by taking the blame. You need to tell me what you know. That’s the only way to help her.”

Stanek held out for another moment, then sighed heavily and took a drink. “You are right, I know. Allison was in the military. She always wanted to belong, to be part of something greater than herself. She was such a beautiful child. Gifted.” He paused in reminiscence.

“What happened?” Jensen prompted.

“After the Incident, she met… some people. They said they were her friends, but I could see they only wanted to use her. Parasites!” he snarled abruptly. “And now—now they have taken her. You must help! She is not to blame for this. She has been coerced!”

“Calm down. I hear you. What do you mean, they’ve taken her?”

“I invited her here tonight, to try to make her see reason. But one of them came by instead, spewing curses about ‘Fleshers’ and ‘Naturals.’ He—he gave me a message from her. She was saying goodbye,” he said, in a very small voice. Then he shook himself. “But she would never leave me all alone! They used her, and now they intend to make her disappear!”

“Who are they, these people?”

“Eh, I don’t know, other than they were Augmented. Not like you, though—zealots. Fire in their eyes. They kept talking about ‘the Ascension,’ whatever that is.”

Definitely Machine Cultists. They had a church in Překážka. He could start there. “Does Allison have the expertise to do something like this?”

Stanek hung his head. “Much more than I do. In the military, she was with Pyrotechnici, eh, bomb… people.”

“Bomb squad? Explosive Ordnance Disposal?”

“Yes, yes. She was happy there. They rebuilt her, after the accident. Rebuilt her to make her better at what she did. But when the Incident happened, she was sent away, dismissed without honor. She was lost.”

“And these friends found her.”

“Bah! They exploited her, and now they plan to discard her.”

Jensen drained his glass and stood, signaling the other agents. “Thank you, Mister Stanek. I’m afraid I have bad news. Your apartment was trapped by the Dvali. Did you owe them protection money?”

“Who, Radich? Mister Nikoladze? No, no—I make him watches, for a discount. After what happened to Allison, Radich knew I needed money. And I think he liked to have the exclusive arrangement. He likes to control things, people. But if someone made him a better offer… Friendship means nothing to a thug.”

“I see. Well, you’ll have to go with these agents for now. For your own protection, and they’ll have some more questions for you.” Montañez and Riley sidled up.

Stanek looked around wildly. “No! I have to go—I have to help her! She’s all I have!” The agents put their hands on his shoulders, though, and he wilted. As they led him away up the stairs, he implored Jensen in a fierce and desperate undertone, “Find my daughter, or I will!”

Jensen paid Stanek’s tab. He figured it was the least he could do.