#drawing these tributes to all of them ; ;

[kwadlayns]

Good detectives do what they need to in order to solve a case. 💀🔎✨

[bxnnie-bxwl]

10 years of BONNIE !

Happy super belated FNAF 10th anniversary!!!

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 18: Balls (Bullet Train)

Sometimes (oftentimes) it's true that all you need are Balls. I personally absolutely love Balls. I'm a big fan! Ekhem. Today I'm using the help of (I mean, copying most of the passages from it) my earlier Balls rant that I have written down after my first listen of it back in January. I really love this album and I don't want to completely skip over saying a couple words on it at least but I really don't think I have the headspace to write anything very good for it today. I'll still try though!

So yeah, Balls. It's a great album, fun and chill (in my sense of what I call and consider chill anyway), consistent, as Sparks albums tend to be, and as I suspected / hoped it does fit this specific vibe of driving around at night somewhere city-like and illuminated. Or being on a train deep at night and looking at the world zooming by (if you'd even see much of it on a train at night anyway.....). And I do think that it's not so dissimilar to Gratsax (I'd say now that it's definitely darker and moodier than its predecessor...). So it's interesting to think about how it's considered to be one of the "weak" ones (by music reviewers at least) while Gratsax is so beloved in comparision.

I will admit, I don't really know what the big problem with this album could be. As I said, it's fun, it has the melodies, it has the energy, it has the theatricality (I like seeing how more and more orchestral instruments such as strings are being incorporated into the music, in a way the jump into Lil' Beethoven two years later doesn't come of as THAT much of a shock because of this. The evolution of sound here is fascinating!) I really like the intense beats, just as much as the more laid-back and moodier pieces. And there's lots of gold to be found in the lyrics department as always.

One more thing I wanna say is that at some point I wondered if this music sounds older than it is. Maybe it does? But then I remembered that this was 2000 and honestly when I think about it, there just IS something about this album that fits so well with the Y2K image and vibe and all. Sparks 2000 and all that.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Balls: I mean. It's Balls.

Scheherazade: absolutely LOVE this one and I had the strangest impression of it sounding very familiar when I first heard it. Months later I found out that it was just briefly featured in TSB so I think that explains it (I will talk more about my TSB viewings on TSB day. EVERYTHING has to be explained in excruciating detail, lmao)

The Calm Before The Storm: bugsonas 4ever. Song itself is amazing too

How To Get Your Ass Kicked: how can a song about getting your ass kicked be so pleasant and relaxing, it always keeps cracking me up, how perfect that is actually

Bullet Train: I love it how introducing the topic of the song with a "It's the [topic of the song]" is a reoccurring theme on this album. Thank you Sparks for this ode to technology and art (these lyrics always have me giggling). And also it just goes hard as heck

It's Educational: a perfect fusion of / sequel to I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car and Progress (it's mostly the vocal delivery that reminds me of the latter)

The Angels: such an odd one here but I still like it a lot, I apparently said that it sounds "surprisingly mainstream for Sparks but somehow in a positive way". It's very sweet and I absolutely love how Russell sings here, it's so different from what we're used to but that only makes it hit you even more in the feels, lol. And I actually prefer the alternative version of this song that's featured as a bonus track, and I do think that's in big part because you can hear Russell better on it (or that was my first impression of it at least and it kind of stuck)

[wammypilled]

Mello and Misa on a one mofu open sleigh, the bimbo sleigh if you will

[dent-de-leon]

oh it does make my heart weak that Molly and Jester both draw…Jester sharing her paintings with everyone, but only realizing Mollymauk is an artist too after he’s gone. Molly who drew everything in secret and never told any of them. Jester breaking down crying when she actually goes through the tarot deck and, “she realizes that’s Molly’s art.”

Thinking of one day when Kingsley and Jester are just sitting on the deck of their ship together sketching—

[btsbs]

.

[cathalbravecog]

i'm the antonymph of the internet

[stevethehairington]

was going to try to write today but instead i have spent the last hour thinking up tattoos for eddie to have

[microfeelings]

Heya, just wanted to let you know that a reddit user made a program to download your acc data.

Just wanted to let you know

Someone on Reddit made code that will allow you to download and store your account data, vikings, dragons, quests, all of it.

Reddit - Dive into anything

Reddit Post^^

GitHub - hictooth/dragonrescue: SoD account export tool

Github for if you can't access Reddit

School of Dragons Data Export

Google form to have the user do it for you

Oh yeah, thanks for this, but I probably wont do it bc my sod password is shared with some other things (bad i know) and sods page to change password is not working (what a surprise) but best of luck to everyone doing this, hope yall get your dragons to safety 😔❤

[evilmagician430]

i couldnt think of a good pose so i just looked up anime bases for shipping. highly recommend this as a drawing exercise

[hegrowth]

listen guys. I love reading yalls tags / comments when you reblog the sims build I made for you ♡ it's one of the most rewarding parts, not only because I want to know your reaction but it also gives me a better understanding of you and how you view your muse(s). like in general rp is reactionary content for me, so making something and gaining a reaction that I can in turn react to and build off of is all part of the art and experience !

also yes I can and will revisit my concepts for builds for yall even if I've already done one for you because your reaction inspired me in part ♡ like idc if it's criticism or just pure omg omg omg this is perfect, it gives me something to use. idk how else to describe it, so I hope this makes sense.

[bxnnie-bxwl]

Heyo-!! I got a question, before Ruin DLC were you sad that there wasn’t a Bonnie animatronic? Btw love ye art!

hii!! thank you for the question!

so I remember when security breach was announced and I had been out of the franchise for a while and I thought the game looked very cool from the teasers! But realised bonnie wasn’t gonna be there.. so I was a little sad ): cause he has been my favourite since game 1, I saw about the mystery of bonnie being sort of missing and monty being put in his place so I was a little sad I didn’t get to see him in this new era….but then ruin dropped.. and we got to see all the hints, SEE BONNIE HIMSELF AND HOW HE HAUNTS THE NARRITIVE. I became obsessed all over again… consuming all about bonnie and my old favourites and officially joined the fandom, always liked the series but never was in the fandom completely… so I’m very glad that glamrock bonnie is actually a thing! and his design is to me PEAK

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Zosan through the ages

some notes:

Sanji’s chest scar is from when Zoro stabbed him through the heart making good on a certain promise (dont worry he got better)

everyone got the Mugiwara Jolly Roger as a tattoo after Luffy became king of the pirates. Not everyone got them on the shoulder but Zoro and Sanji like to mirror each other.

Sanji grew out his beard and started braiding it as a tribute to Zeff after the old fart finally passed away. Zoro is of the opinion that he could’ve found literally any other way to pay tribute.

Zoro’s arm got chopped off when he finally lost his title as world’s greatest swordsperson to a determined young upstart (she and Zoro have since become good friends). Now he just has to use two sword style at most, like a normal person.

By the time he’s 70 Sanji’s voice sounds like straight gravel from all the smoking, to the point where he’s actually a bit hard to understand when he’s talking fast.

Once he no longer had to defend his title Zoro fully indulged in retirement and being *very* well fed, though Sanji is keeping an eye on his salt intake, and the alcohol cabinet is nigh Zoro proof.

I had to power through drawing the young and trim version of them to get to the REAL PRIZE, OLD MEN AWOOOOGA

[medusas-daughter]

The Hunger Games epilogue is emotional in so many ways that I forgot so many details until I re-read the series this week. In the book of memories that Katniss makes, among all her and Peeta's memories of the games and the victors and district 12, Haymitch asks her to add every single tribute he mentored and lost ever since he won his own games. Earlier in Mockingjay, Katniss tells him something along the line of "you closed yourself off to everyone until Peeta and I came into the picture" and he neither confirmed nor denied. And while it is obvious that he loves Peeta and Katniss like his own kids, this one line in the epilogue tells me he didn't close himself off as much as he wanted to. He remembered all 46 children the Capitol put under his care only to witness them horribly die. Most of them were from the Seam, just like he was. All of them had families waiting for them, all of them wanted to survive. He remembered them and asked Katniss to write their stories and described them so Peeta would draw them, so that even if history books don't deem them important enough to remember, someone will.

Also while Everlark get married and have kids, he raises geese in his backyard. I think that's also important.

[amiinkles]

ULTRATOBER DAY 1-3

FAVOURITE SOUNDTRACK

For this prompt I chose requiem, though this drawing is also a tribute to other minos prime songs (glory, cold winds, order)

I love every song in ultrakill but minos primes' ones just hit different for me I suppose. Its like you can feel his sorrow and grief in them

Anyways just a heads up but i'll probably not do a lot of the prompts, or at all tbh...im just doing this for fun so i might be more lax about drawing them consistently

[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin

Warnings: Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.

This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part II | Masterlist

Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemaker’s new horrendous plan.

He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.

He wouldn’t be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldn’t warn you or give you advice.

All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.

You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didn’t know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.

Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.

You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, men‘s eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.

He hated it, every part of it.

They all deserved to die.

But it wasn’t your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasn‘t shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.

No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.

You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.

You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.

Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.

It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.

Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.

Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.

It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.

He definitely didn’t want to kiss you and he didn’t dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: You’re mine now.

Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.

He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.

Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.

You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.

As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.

And then he heard a voice. His voice. “Follow me.”

He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.

„Coriolanus?”, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. “Follow me”, it whispered again and he watched you do.

No, no, no.

Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. “Where are you?”, you hissed, your eyes darting around. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.”

He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasn’t him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.

He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didn’t even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.

Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldn’t imagine the catastrophe that would follow.

The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldn’t explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.

The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?

His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.

It would ruin him.

“I can’t see you”, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.

Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. It’s not me. I’m not there.

There was no reason for him to be there.

Except…there was.

“I’m here to see you. I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“How cute”, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. “She’s as dumb as they come”, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didn’t dare open her mouth again.

“Looks like you’re guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.”

And it was ironic.

Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.

All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadn’t been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didn’t matter.

Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. “Is this real?”

Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.

Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.

Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldn’t.

Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didn’t give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.

That your chapter wasn’t over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.

Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.

Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know why whatever game they were playing with you hadn’t affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.

And right now it seemed you wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.

But he had underestimated the gamemakers.

Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. “Coriolanus?” “Help me!”, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.

But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadn’t been for you.

You had saved him.

But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!

“Coriolanus!”

Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.

No!

He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. It’s not real, he whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.

When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!” But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.

What was this?

With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.

Was this what the gamemaker wanted?

Whatever you did or said would never matter again.

All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.

A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldn’t let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.

Flashes of a better life filled his mind.

A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.

It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.

There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.

But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.

The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.

Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didn’t break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.

Part II

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