#random weed hunger games

[simplyghosting]

Pro tip: do not throw the seeds of a fruit you ate into your hodgepodge terrarium assuming they won’t grow because 3 months later they just might tree

[jjsstars]

random school bus graveyard headcanons

// with aiden/ashlyn & ben/taylor & logan/tyler <3 //

warnings: weed/smoking, swearing

[cut off cause this got rlly long whoops]

Ash is bi & Aiden is pan

Taylor & Ben are both asexual but also hopeless romantics

Tyler is bi & Logan is gay

Taylor does Ben’s nails on weekends

Tyler tries to teach Logan how to play baseball (he’s semi successful)

Ash is paramore fan (p sure this is just canon atp)

Aiden loves all those dystopian movies and forces Tyler to watch them when he finds out he’s never seen them (ie hunger games, the maze runner, divergent etc.)

Aiden’s best subject is math and his worst is English, Ash is the same way

Taylor’s best subjects are science & math, her worst is art (she just can’t draw okay)

Tyler’s best subject is gym but as far as academics go he’s pretty good at history, he sucks at science tho

Logan’s best subject is obvi science, he honestly does good in everything, but he doesn’t like language that much

Taylor carry’s extra ear plugs/headphones/notebooks & pens for Ben & Ash (or anyone who might need them)

Tyler can braid better than Taylor can (he would do her hair growing up)

Aiden & Ash are adhd vs autism

Logan and Taylor hold hands when they’re anxious

Aiden can play the guitar & drums

Ben can also play the guitar but he prefers acoustic whereas Aiden likes electric

Tyler can play guitar but he prefers to play the trumpet (he’s rlly good)

Taylor can sing but she only does around Ben - he totally doesn’t cry nope totally not -

Ash can play the Harp (stealing that from someone else’s hc post <3) but she can also play violin & piano (multitalented queen)

Aiden & Ash link pinkies while sitting on the bus if Ash is feeling particularly pda strong

the whole group goes to cheer on Tyler’s baseball games

Logan now has a first aid kit in his locker from dating Tyler and being friends with Aiden

Aiden has a medical card for medical weed and he definitely abuses that shit

the first time Ashlyn gets high it relaxes her so much she’s convinced she’s dying for a hot minute

Logan & Taylor don’t like being high, Ben is indifferent to it, Aiden, Ashlyn & Tyler enjoy it throughly

It calms Aiden & Tyler down a lot

Taylor & Ben are the only ones capable of sitting in a chair like a normal person

Aiden & Ben smuggle good food into the hospital for Tyler

Tyler gives Logan forehead kisses

Ben kisses the top of Taylor’s hand

Aiden kisses the tip of Ash’s nose - Ash kisses his cheek

everyone is always finding Ashlyn hair in everything cause she sheds so much

Logan & Ben are Star Wars fans

Aiden is the first one to get his official license - to everyone’s horror -

Tyler is the last one to get his license (he’s so mad about it)

Ashlyn still sleeps with a stuffed animal and has a tote of them in her closet — she hides this for months until Ben finds them one day and casually adopts them all with Taylor

Aiden runs like a space heater as does Taylor

Ash & Ben both run superrrr cold

Logan and Tyler have normal temperatures, the freaks /j

Ben carry’s an inhaler because Aiden got asthma attacks as a kid - he hasn’t had one since he was like 7 but Ben likes to be prepared

If he gets hyper focused enough Aiden will go non-verbal / won’t acknowledge the outside world to the point of Ben having to write down responses for him

Aiden & Tyler can skateboard

Taylor can rollerskate & she teaches Logan how to too

Ashlyn is a god at ice skating

Ben prefers to stay on his own two feet thank you very much

Tyler’s terrified of dogs and screams for Taylor anytime one comes near him

Animals naturally love Ashlyn, Taylor’s jealous

Aiden is one of those people that will spend five minutes in a backyard and pick up three frogs, a lizard, a scarily big spider, two beetles and point out where a snake is

birds really like Ben - he doesn’t know why

Aiden & Ben are really good at art, but with totally different styles

Ben prefers realism and charcoal pieces

Aiden prefers more stylized art, markers & paints

Aiden did graffiti for a while and still would if he ever had the time (stupid phantoms) - when Ash finds out she lets him tag the buses in the graveyard and he’s so excited about it

Aiden & Tyler play basketball together on the weekends while the others watch/mess with them the entire time

If Tyler’s being particularly cocky about winning against Aiden then Ben will step in cause he’s naturally really good at basketball

Taylor and Logan always giggle watching Tyler’s face fall seeing Ben stand up

Ashlyn doesn’t mind when Aiden loses because then she gets to use it as an excuse for them to go get ice cream to “make the loss easier” (aiden knows she does that every time because she also asks to go out for ice cream if he wins to celebrate)

Taylor lets Aiden try on her lip gloss once and now he has his own collection and keeps some on him at all times — mostly just clear ones or sparkly light pink ones that aren’t super noticeable but still leaves a shine

Tyler uses like ten separate hair products daily - him & Ash take the longest to do their hair out of the whole group

[saintmalosunsets]

Recruiting for my BoB Discord Server

My server is like a text-based Band of Brothers video game. You can build friendships with the men, marry one, earn money through your paratrooper salary or by begging the guys, buy items, gain XP by staying active, get promoted by Colonel Sink, and even annoy Sobel. There’s also an HP system with med kits, K-Rations, and canteens. But if that’s not your thing, you’re still more than welcome to join just for chatting!

Here are some of the server’s features:

Currently has 16 bots of Easy Company members, some of which you can interact with. They will randomly pop in and send messages from time to time.

Friendship system for: Malarkey, Roe, Speirs, Lipton, Winters, Nixon, Luz, and Sobel (he’s the hardest to befriend).

Economy system where you can earn your daily paratrooper pay (options to earn more money like begging Speirs or Don, rushing Speirs, or robbing Sobel), and use money to buy virtual classic BoB items that you can give to some of the men! Or buy lottery tickets, mystery boxes, and other items! You can also get K Rations from Colonel Sink which you will need to eat when you get hungry in order to prevent your HP draining.

Give Doc Roe scizzuhs, give Speirs loot, give Nixon Vat 69, and more.

Sobel can, and will, revoke your weekend pass, and yell at you for having an empty canteen.

Guarnere in your DMs 😉

We have Nixon’s Dog! You can even adopt him, and he’ll dig up items for you!

Speirs can steal your cigarettes, lighter, and loot.

Can get married to one of the paratroopers and have kids. Additional interactions unlock after marriage, and after having a baby (there is a parenting system, if you have any. If you don’t want any, Doc Roe can tie your tubes). (Also, your husband can catch you begging Speirs and get angry.)

Relating to the marriages, if you are a writer you can help out and write mini one-shots for the server!

WooHoo command… ifykyk. Sometimes you don’t even need to use the command…

XP system! Be promoted by Colonel Sink for being active, all the way up to Major!

HP system! You will die if your HP or hydration level gets too low. You can drink from your canteen or use a med kit to prevent this. If you die, you lose money and respawn in ten minutes.

Deploy into any episode of the show for XP, and random opportunities to earn more XP, like hiding in a foxhole quickly enough if we are under attack, or attacking the enemy back.

Collect ammo and donate it to the men when they’re running low!

We have our own stock market system! Perconte can sell you weed at a random price, and other members of Easy Company will buy it off of you at a random price.

Bet on fights between two paratroopers! Gambling!

Team up with your fav paratrooper in the Hunger Games! Prizes!

Guaranteed laughter from the various shit you will see popping up. Funny random events. Spongebob references. Rob Mr Krabs, but he can also rob you!

DM me if you wanna join! Please only ask to join if you can be somewhat active. We have an inactivity rule but it’s pretty lenient, it’s just to avoid total inactivity.

[book-girl4evaaa]

❝ you promised.❞

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Fight for me"

00:47 ━━●─────── 02:39ㅤ ㅤ

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ↻ ���

First of all rp blogs so you know who I am 😭 @ask-the-great-heather-chandler @goodness-knows-glinda @juni-riversss (the last is an oc)

"If you were happy all the time you wouldn't be human - you'd be a gameshow host."

Call me Bea or Eva (I like Bea better tho) ⸙ minor ⸙ libra ⸙ geeky ⸙ Athena Cabin ⸙ overuses the ✨ emoji ⸙ book lover ⸙ bilingual ⸙ ace most likely ⸙ free Palestine 🍉 ⸙ British, unfortunately (🥄) ⸙ major Gracie Abrams fan ⸙ Infp-t personality ⸙ ambivert ⸙ African pride ⸙ theatre kid ⸙pepper soup enthusiast ⸙ writer ⸙ artist ⸙ religion is.... complicated but leaning towards agnostic⸙ singer (sort of) ⸙nerd ⸙dancer ⸙ fangirl ⸙sport-lover ⸙ daydreamer ⸙ hopeless romantic ⸙ future designer ⸙ glasses gang ⸙ arsonists ⸙ tag me in poetry! ⸙ green, blue and purple>>> ⸙ chaotic good ⸙ in a world of heathers be a Veronica ⸙ my sexuality is "?!?!!!!?????" ⸙ Maeddie shipper ⸙

I'm always ready to make new friends (no creeps, please) so please talk to me! (Also I'd like to add, no donation asks please as I'm a minor and cannot help you, it just stresses me out)

Currently in my: Heathers, Arcane, and Matilda phase!

Dislikes/Dni: Zionists ☄ creeps ☄ misogynists ☄ sexists ☄ racists ☄ homophobes ☄ transphobes ☄ bigots of any kind ☄ eating mushrooms ☄ geography ☄ mean people ☄ Monday mornings ☄ proshippers

Fandoms I'm active in: Pjo, Tpq, Kotlc, Gilded, Hamilton, MCU, agggtm, Matilda the musical, Amari and the night brothers, the hunger games, six of crows, the folk of the air, Wicked, This Book kills, heathersssssssssssssssss, wicked and many more!

If you need someone to blurt random facts, rant about life, or just yap then I'm your girl! Feel free to give me nicknames and chat about random stuff :)

Also, send me asks, please :)

Moots

Other relations : @kiya-cannibal-bug (mum) @sleep-can-wait (wife) @manically-depressedd-psychopath (baby daddy (?!??!!?!)) @shrxe (child)

Nicknames: Beatrice (by Turtle I miss her :() Beanie (by Shree) Belle (by Tina) Bee (by Myna and Fishy) Bea Bee (by Loife) Bumble Bee (by Ife mi <3333 (archivist)) Bear (by Kitcat) Beezus (by Riyana) (Bea)utiful (by Leta) Beanana (by Abby) Bea Bea Girl (by Maddie)

I can speak English, yr 9 level Spanish, tiny bits of Hindi (don't ask) and a few insults in yuroba

DNI if you are: a Zionist, a creep, a misogynist, sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, or just mean/disrespectful.

personal tags: #bea updates - any random og post • #[Bea reblogs] - reblogging a post • #[Bea's on the line] - answering an ask • #bea's wip - self explanatory

"It's a Beautiful frickin day!"

Side blogs:

@step-into-my-candystore (my heathers/musical blog)

@she-used-to-bea-mine (my vent blog)

So have a good day, be kind, and love yourself<333

This blog supports Palestine

If you don't, please leave me alone :)

Don't forget your daily clicks!

Byeee! <333

All images from Pinterest, dividers by me :)

I hope you enjoyed my ✨ extremely aesthetic ✨ intro post!

(Veronica Sawyer photo dump underneath because I love herrrr)

(pfp is Barrett Wilbert Weed playing Veronica Sawyer :])

[sigmasoyboy]

HIHI!! I loooove ur ocs Gary and Mikael so can u talk abt them a bit?? Like fun facts, random bits of lore, or anything!!

Sure ! Here's some misc facts about the boys I wrote on the plane:

(cw: self-harm, attempted suicide)

When they are together, Mikael is almost always touching Gary in some way: leaning on him, holding his arm, hand resting on his nape, keeping him close and corporeal. He'll sit behind him and hug him and casually hang his arms around his neck. Gary pretends to only tolerate it.

Their fights can get pretty nasty. Biting, scratching, hair pulling, nothing is off limits, but they mostly wrestle and roll on the floor until one of the two manages to pull free and punch/kick. Sometimes they'll start laughing with a split lip and a bleeding nose midway as if just play fighting, though usually it's mostly Mikael laughing and Gary trying to kill him for good.

Other times it devolves into other physical contact. Their hormones are in full bloom and there's only one step between anger and hunger when you're already touching and grabbing at the other anyway. The contrary also happens, mostly because Gary is quick to anger and Mikael too stupid for his own good.

They're not always fighting though. Sometimes the dust settles and they've tired their bodies with whatever shenanigans kept them occupied so they'll slip into tender lazyness, lying together intertwined as close as possible, hands under shirts or playing with hair, breathing as one. It's the only way Mikael will keep calm for more than five minutes.

They often will try to sneak out of doing their chores to hang out away from the eyes of the adults. In the attic, up on the taller trees, on the roof or in the multiple nooks, crannies and hidden doors of the old house.

Mikael sometimes looks for unfinished cigarettes inside the ashtrays the staff hide when they're done smoking behind the kitchens; they try to smoke them nonchalantly, passing the small butt to each other, just enough for a disgusting taste of adulthood. Gary often gets sick from it so they don't do it often.

Mikael has tried LSD (directly) and weed (second hand) before; the only drug Gary has ever taken were the few grains of cocaine left on his father's desk, but it wasn't even enough to get a taste.

Despite Mikael busying his mind away from bad thoughts, Gary will sometimes isolate when depression overwhelms him. It becomes a game of hide and seek where Mikael will usually find him with fresh cuts, or sometimes worse. Thwarting Gary's suicide attempts has become a game ever since the first time he did it, though Mikael never laugh at it, even if he sometimes smiles still and says dumb shit after getting him out of harm's way.

[catboygirljoker]

Genuinely curious; you got any headcanons for like random eccentricities/foibles for the Org13 or anyone else?

regrettably most of my headcanons tend to be on a broader characterization/thematic level, ideas about how characters relate to each other and the world and themselves. the droves and droves of hyperspecific headcanons i have about xigbar are primarily from turning him over in my hands so many times trying to figure out what the Fuck is going On with him. i dont really get deep into the weeds of little details until i feel i have a strong idea of who a character is as a person

i have got a random grab bag of headcanons here for ya, though i think theyre not exactly what you had in mind. i tried to avoid mentioning xigbar as much as possible because if i didn't it'd just turn into a xigpost.

in order from mostly a joke to more serious and thought out:

dark riku is a teenage reddit atheist type who disguises his discomfort with swearing by claiming that people only swear if their vocabularies arent big enough to come up with something smarter to say. vanitas is an undiagnosed untreated unsupported AuDHD problem child who swears every other word and plays with lighters and knives. they cant be left alone in a room with each other because they Will try to kill each other.

there have been way more organization members than we've seen, like, maybe there were originally 13 org members. axel just killed all the others so saix would rise in the ranks. the only people we see in the org either dont pose a threat or are taken out as soon as they do. everyone always asks "how is demyx in the org if he's so lazy?" when the answer is that he survived because he's lazy.

(xigbar is the one exception in that he's definitely a threat, but he's frustratingly difficult to blackmail or kill or otherwise neutralize. xaldin is a follower more than a leader and dedicated to his duties; lexaeus the same. vexen doesnt want power, hes just here for science, he just wants funding. demyx ive mentioned. luxord's just here to play poker. and well we see what happens to the rest.)

saix directly modeled himself after xemnas and is as devoted to him as axel is to saix. i feel like if you compare isa's hair in bbs to his hair in 2+, you can make the argument that saix has styled his hair to resemble xemnas's. in 3 we see him in full berserk mode standing obediently at xemnas's heel without budging an inch as he watches his best friend get hurt.

(worth noting that i imagine we are meant to understand that saix is just, like, a good employee, he wants power in the org so he works hard to attain it and is obedient in pursuit of that. i think there are even scenes were it seems like saix doesnt fully trust xemnas. but i like making it fucked up and dependent. sue me)

xemnas doesnt really feel like hes entirely there. you look into his eyes and its like hes looking a little past you. hes a shell of a shell of a shell, the nobody of a botched possession who had vague experiments done on him. all he seeks and all he cares about is kingdom hearts and he barely remembers why. the only time he's actually present or displays any concrete personality or will is when he's exerting that will over someone. contrast the spacey floatiness of any of his long-winded monologues with how suddenly laser-focused he is on destroying axel in 3.

i made a post where i reference the platonic threefold structure of the soul [boo hiss]—if xemnas is just the Head and Belly, divested from the chest, nothing but pure carnal hunger for kingdom hearts and the higher logical means of attaining it, ansem SoD is just the Chest, the irrational emotional yearning for kingdom hearts. thats why he has nothing to do with the org or xemnas, he's kind of a rogue element doing his own thing. since he's the inverse of xemnas, the two of them cant work together, the same way you couldnt play a chess game with a rabid dog

anyway thank you foibles anon ! i hope you like this post anyway even if im sure its not what you expected

[kamesama]

— match-up trade: jjk.

for @jae-pudding › match-up trades › i think it's safe to say i made up my mind fairly quickly, but it was a close call between two characters... i'm not gonna keep rambling; i hope you like it!

your match: gojō satoru.

mischievous pranks. learning new things. the most random trivia casually shared throughout an outing. matching clothes. simple-looking but expensive gifts. taste of mint and ice. grunge. polaroids kept in phone-cases, wallets or nightstand's drawers. sunglasses. takeout. paint splattered across a pure white canvas. selfies portraying bright smiles, taken on a whim. men's labello lip balm. squeezed citrus. being eager to speak even with mouth full. conversing well into the night and realising it's 2am. movie nights; salt on your lips and body under a blanket. video games with vhs filter.

there are plenty of similarities, such as the most obvious affection for the mischief as your lips struggle not to arch into a grin whilst some poor unfortunate soul's tongue stumbles over words — or the lack of thereof. the hunger for mental stimuli is clearly present, and gojō satoru would so very love to satiate it. or at least attempt to, for such starvations are oftentimes a pull of gaping bottomless holes.

a potential for acquaintanceship is clearly present, along with the smallest tidbit for some friendly rivalry, or a partnership in crime. it starts with a knowing glance thrown across the room, followed by the nod utterly drenched in understanding before all chaos breaks loose — your words braid together perfectly, fitting like puzzle pieces to form a proper, believing story. it is very likely that yūji ends up victim to your schemes — megumi had long learned not to trust whatever symbiosis occurs between you and gojō-sensei.

but it wouldn't be gojō satoru if he didn't nick a nerve or two; all your similarities aside, this man makes for a far messier phenomena than you could ever hope to be. watch him arrive late to an appointed date, his posture outlined with leisure and with a shameless smile on his face. he makes up for it, though, confident that he could bribe you with your favourite snack or sweet. or his charm, if need be. perhaps a little exasperating, but it wouldn't be a match if it ticked all the boxes, now would it?

yes, he is skilled in everything he tries, but that brings with it an unshakable confidence. should you wish to explore a new place, visit some exotic spot or try something completely insane, gojō would very well be your partner in crime. true, he may whine and pout here and there, but would he say no to something interesting and exciting? never. in fact, he may just come like a whirlwind and suggest you join him on his newest 'that-came-out-of-nowhere' trip. and trust me, he can be very persuasive himself.

there is a lot of space. akin to a cat, gojō sometimes displays fragments of clingy behaviour, but he is more than content with any distance you may desire. he is not tied down by some conservative view of handling one's emotions or expressing their feelings, so there's a sense of respect and understanding towards the ways you digest yours. gojō can stand his own ground, for independence seeps from his very pores. that being said, satoru does not embody an image of someone that you could dislike, for he is witty, capable, and knowledgeable. he may not look like it, but he is a good listener; as someone without all too many hobbies, gojō would adore to at the very least hear you speak of your own interests. go on, tell him how bothersome and insistent weeds in your garden seem to be.

and speaking of digestion, you better believe that satoru indulges you and your cravings — whether they include that itch for knowledge and something new, or a desire to try out that delectable option on the menu of a new restaurant. if anything, you may find satoru eye you as you erase the attribute of 'famished' off your name. there is something cute about it, he says, don't mind me, keep eating.

other matches: nanami kento.

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[donnietheterrapin]

weed man. of u dont think you'd survive then HOW DID YOU WIN THE LAST HUNGER GAMES‼️‼️‼️

(Just gonna explain this here so you don't have to go down to the tags, but in "weed man replies", the hunger games don't exist. That exists in a meta of it's own, OUTSIDE of the "weed man replies" meta of Everest answering to random tumblr asks. Midnight and Blueberry are canon to Everest's story, but any characters he may have interacted with in the hunger games do not exist to him. Hope this helps a little bit, sorry if it confused ^^' )

[historicity-was-already-taken]

i read night in 7th almost 8th grade at hebrew school

somehow not the worst thing i'd read before then but i read hunger games at 10 and speak the summer between 8th and 9th grade

and also on the subject of holocaust jokes. i have earned my holocaust jokes and they have gotten me thru learning about it in school. i can laugh about this. i use it to deal with this shit. if im not laughing its bc ur joke was out of line

[note that this responses uses the general, as opposed to the individual, “you”]

Re: Holocaust jokes, I definitely feel that I have earned that right as well. My close friend's husband's (who is basically my close friend too) grandfather was murdered at Babi Yar. That fact has hung over his entire life, and Holocaust jokes are his way of coping. I make them because sometimes my work is so traumatizing that it comes down to gallows humor vs. ab/using alcohol/weed/valium/my credit card. Now, even among those of us who turn to humor to cope with our intergenerational etc trauma, I so still think we have a responsibility to be IMMENSELY mindful of who we make these jokes in front of, and how THEY may respond. Your Boomer mom who spent her formative years on the receiving end of her survivor mom's untreated trauma may not fucking appreciate it, and that's valid. Don't do it around her. Don't do it around your close friend who understands why you do it but is deeply uncomfortable with it all the same. Likewise, your casual Gentile friend, and party acquaintances shouldn't be the audience for these things either; they don't know you, they don't know why you're making these jokes, and they may take your willingness to make these jokes as an indication that it's ok for them to make similar jokes. It's not. Random Jewish people you know through work/school/shul etc are also not an inherent audience for these jokes. You don’t know them, they don’t know you, and you can’t just roll up and potentially traumatize someone. I make most of these jokes with a close friend who studies post-1865 Black American history (said friend is black), though she often teaches the history of American Slavery as well. She cracks jokes intensely dark jokes about her field, I crack intensely dark jokes about mine, we goad each other, we laugh instead of cry, and then we keep it between us.

[nikethestatue]

Spy Games

Elriel Month - Day 3

Spying

Spying Lessons

Elain, the pretty, polite, courteous sister, who spoke well and moved gracefully, was also one who was never considered with any seriousness by anybody. Not her mother, not their weak, gentle father, not the imperious, sharp-tongued Nesta, or the self-assured, determined Feyre. However, she was a merchant’s daughter, and she was as sharp-eyed, as Nesta was sharp-tongued. 

She inherited the trait from their father--he was always able to spot a deal, or a weakness, a loophole and he used it to his full advantage when making deals. She watched him, and learned how to use her words, how to compliment and smile, how to appear innocent and helpless, while seeking favors and looking to get what she wanted. It worked. It worked with everyone--it worked with Nesta, worked with their servants (when they had them), and when they didn’t, and had nothing, Elain always managed to charm someone at the market for an extra apple, a couple of bread rolls, or a swath of cloth. Even Lord Nolan was not immune to her charms, and even though there were better offers from others, he encouraged Greyson to court Elain, despite her family's ‘reputation’. Elain loved Greyson, but she also watched and noticed. She saw groves of ash trees, the number of sentries patrolling the walled estate, and how many guard dogs there were. She didn’t even try, but she noticed...and counted...and remembered.

Nuala was good. Smooth and discrete, she’d never be suspected of keeping tabs on Amren. Though Amren was a vengeful Angel of a young god in her previous life, and she probably knew what Nuala was doing. Yet, Nuala was not so good as to suspect Elain. Because Elain knew as well. It came as a surprise, but it was apparent to Elain that Nuala closely monitored Amren, as well as Varian, when they were around. 

They were making lemon cakes in the kitchen--Elain and the twins. Baking and cooking--many assumed that that’s what Elain was good for--the kind, tidy, domestic Elain. What no one, except for one person, was privy to was that these chores quieted the roaring in Elain’s head. They silenced the visions, cleared the pounding in her skull, gave her a sense of normalcy, even if for only a little while. 

“What do you think Varian reports to his High Lord?” the question startled the twins and they exchanged quick looks.

Elain’s face remained placid, as she busied herself with grating lemon zest. “Do you think they laugh?” she chuckled. “Our court is dramatic, to be sure.”

The twins were silent. 

“Is it wise though,” she continued, uninterrupted, “to have a representative of another Court so closely entwined with the affairs of the Night Court?”

“The High Lord trusts Prince Varian,” said Cerridwen, her voice neutral.

“Perhaps.”

Elain stirred the zest into the custard and there was silence, the twins assuming that the conversation was over. 

“Does Azriel?” she suddenly asked.

They stared. 

“Does Azriel trust Varian?” she pressed.

“The lord,” began Nuala, but Elain interrupted. “Not High Lord,”

“Lord Azriel,” corrected Nuala, “does what he must to keep the Night Court safe.”

That explained everything.

“Could Azriel use another pair of eyes and ears?” Elain didn’t even know where the offer came from. Perhaps, it stemmed from the desire to be useful, to offer something of herself that so few knew that she even possessed. She turned to the twins and stared them down, her gaze unflinching.

“Teach me,” she pleaded. “Teach me what you know. What and how you do it. Please.”

“Lord Azriel may not approve,” countered Cerridwen softly.

“Let’s not tell him,” whispered Elain,

“Lord Azriel will know.”

“Eventually. I am not asking you to lie to him,” she added quickly, sensing that this was the reason for their hesitation. “Just don’t tell him. Not yet. Teach me, a little something, and then I’ll decide if it’s for me. Please. I,”

“Fine,” said Nuala. Cerridwen gave her a silent look of admonishment and surprise, but did not argue. Perhaps that would come later. “We’ll teach you the way he taught us.”

“Yes!” Elain’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Goodness, she hadn’t felt this excited in….well, forever.

The lessons were not what she expected, but she did not question them.

There were no weapons, or peeking through peepholes, or breaking locks.

At first, it was a little bit boring even. Odd requests, such as making conversations with random faeries--in the park, on the street, at the markets. The twins would point out a fae and order Elain to go and start a conversation. It lasted for weeks, and she even grew frustrated, thinking that they were just humoring her and these ‘lessons’ were nothing but a game. Until one day, Nuala told her to obtain specific information. She pointed at an elderly male Fae and requested, “Approach. Come back with the following information--did he serve in the first War, what rank, does he have children, how many, and what is his favourite breakfast?”

“What?” Elain stared in confusion, but Nuala’s face remained inscrutable. 

“Is there a problem?” asked Nuala. Her tone of voice...well, the tone was very much Azriel’s.

Elain shook her head and said, “no”, before crossing the street and approaching the male fae.

The realization that she could do this was thrilling. At once, she understood why she spent all those weeks approaching and making conversations with all those fae. She found ways, ways to ingratiate herself to them, to mark something small, but unique to each one, and then weave a connection around that tiny tidbit. It worked every time. 

The elderly male fae had a small, but noticeable limp. This was Elain’s opening. He was hauling a basket of groceries, and she approached gently, offering help. Oh, he couldn’t possibly trouble such a pretty lady. And she was a High Fae to boot. No, no, thank you, he could manage. Not a problem at all, she was walking that way anyway. What was he making for dinner with all those vegetables? Oh, soup? Did the wife send him to the market? Oh, a widower? So sorry. Were there children to assist? Three? That’s good that they helped out…

“He was a Captain in the Third Legion during the first War. He is a widower, with three children--two male, and one female. Three grandchildren as well. He usually eats leftovers for breakfast, because he is too lazy to cook, but his favorite breakfast are almond croissants from the Brea Bakery,” reported Elain.

A small, satisfied smile touched Nuala’s lips.

So the lessons continued. She was ordered to obtain more detailed information, and in places which were harder to access. She did. Sometimes, she failed, but rarely.

In addition, Cerridwen began training her on walking. 

Walking? 

Walking.

“Make your presence unknown,” she explained and Elain only nodded. Sure, she would learn to walk, if that’s what was required. She learned how to roll her feet in such a manner that they were completely silent with every step that she took. Learned how to notice her own body, its presence, and the space that it occupied. And learned how to make it unknown. How to melt into shadows, stand near someone and have them be unaware of her, sneak quietly into rooms and spaces. It took a month, maybe longer. Meanwhile, she learned other tricks. How to swap papers, how to pull documents with a flick of her wrist, how to read upside down (very difficult). 

“Could you take this to Lord Azriel please,” Cerridwen handed Elain a folder. 

“Um...yes, of course,” Elain took the folder, a bit surprised that Cerridwen couldn’t deliver it herself, but by the time she was going to ask, Cerridwen had disappeared.

First things first--Elain didn’t know where Azriel was.

The River House was enormous, so she started with Rhysand’s office, but it was empty. She peeked out into the garden, but only saw baby Nyx and his nanny, who was attempting to contain Nyx on a picnic blanket, and failing. Elain smiled. Nyx crawled like a fiend and made an aggressive beeline towards the fluffy peonies. No doubt, they’d be trampled and pulled soon enough. Especially, if the nanny wouldn’t take her eyes off the handsome delivery male who was standing by the gate and flirting with her.

Elain closed her eyes. Smell. Sense. They haven’t gotten that far in their training yet, but Azriel’s scent--oh, she knew it well. The most delicious scent to ever hit her nostrils. The one scent that she craved and hungered for above all others. Even in this huge house, she could isolate Azriel’s scent, as it rose above all others, at least for her. The strongest trail led to Azriel’s bedroom, which was unsurprising, even if he did not spend much time here anymore. He and Rhysand met to discuss matters of state, and then there were the mandatory ‘family dinners’ that Azriel attended. They used to be obligatory, but after the last Solstice, they became mandatory, by order of the High Lord. 

No, Azriel wasn’t in his bedroom. She followed the scent down the hallway, past the drawing room, then up the side stairs. Ah. She should’ve guessed. There was a terrace that overlooked the garden that Azriel favored. Sometimes, she thought that he observed her from there, when she tangled with weeds and seeds. But that couldn’t be. Not after the fiasco during the last Solstice and him pulling away from her with no explanation. A momentary lapse of reason on his part.

She spotted the spread of his wings. A smile touched her lips. How things were different before, when he was so comfortable around her. When he’d come and sit with her in the garden, sunning his wings, doing his work, both of them enjoying each other’s company without the need to talk. All of that somehow crashed and burned, and she didn’t know why and how to bring that intimacy back.

“Azriel,” she said, “Cerr,”

Azriel flinched and whipped his head to her. His eyes blew wide at the sight of her, standing in the doorway.

“Elain...Phhh, you startled me….” he muttered hoarsely.

And the Spymaster of the Night Court shifted with discomfort. 

She had surprised him. 

“Sorry,” she murmured and handed him the folder. “I apologize. Cerridwen asked me to give this to you.”

He was still staring at her, as if processing what had occurred. His hazel eyes raked over her body, settling on her feet for a few moments. It was like he was trying to discern how she managed to approach him so silently.

“Umm, thank you,” he said and opened the folder. It was empty.

Neither one said anything to each other, and Elain turned and stepped back into the house, her cheeks flushed.

As she hurried down the hall, Cerridwen and Nuala both appeared in front of her, grins plastered on their lovely angular faces.

“What?!” she snapped. 

The grins widened.

“There was nothing in the folder!” she exclaimed, irritated.

“No,” agreed Cerrdiwen. “But you passed the first phase of your training.”

“You surprised Lord Azriel.”

[spookyheaad]

Zemira

So since I’m working full throttle on the next two chapters of the Tesoro/Stella fic, I figured it would be a great time to get some Darksiders content up! I still greatly adore Darksiders, as I owe it’s unique art style (which is thanks to the badass artist Joe Madureira) for placing me down the path of making art for a living! I really would love to work on a Darksiders related property one day, whether it be a game, or comic, or something.

Enough of my rambling, I want to introduce everyone to my Darksiders OC, who I have shown a lot in art on my Instagram in past years. Her name is Zemira, she is a “Pseudo-Nephilim”. Pseudo Nephilim were Lilith’s second attempt at creating Nephilim, except instead of using the dust of angels & demons, she literally just rounded up living angels and demons and made them procreate, just to see what would happen. She thought it would make for stronger warriors, since their bloodlines & genetics would be more true to their angelic/demonic heritage.

(Also keep in mind this document was my initial design for Zemira, there are slight changes to her current design):

Now of course, the Charred Council catches wind of this and sends the Horsemen to kill these creations and anyone involved in it. Death, being the most severely & outwardly affected by the Nephilim Genocide which brought him & his three younger siblings to become the Four Horsemen, had slight reservations, but were quelled when he was reminded that Lilith was behind it all.

So the Horsemen did what was ordered of them, to slaughter these “New Nephilim” before they had a chance to form any sort of formal society or warmongering hunger for a home of their own. Death was able to do what he set out to do, but at times during the slaughter he couldn’t help be reminded of the comrades he mercilessly killed. He did not know why because he had no blood relation to these pseudo-Nephilim, no family or acquaintances among their lot. But, they did hold heavy resemblance to the original Nephilim, regardless of the fact that they were not born in Absalom’s image. They held both angelic & demonic traits, some more human-like, others more monstrous, and some were an equal mix of both traits.

Death pushed through this apprehension, that was until he came across Zemira. She fought back against Death on nearly equal ability in terms of physical agility and weapons prowess alone. She wanted something more than to be used as a weapon for someone else’s goals. Day in and day out she forcibly fought against her fellow pseudo-Nephilim, in an even more twisted and sickening form of eugenics; weeding out the weakest bloodlines in the way that all Nephilim know best, fighting to the death. She fought to be alive, and she will not relinquish her life so easily.

Death, being able to simply sense her will to live, and with his unwillingness to keep killing these poor beings, allowed her to escape.

“Go!”

She was taken off guard. No opponent had ever submitted in a fight willingly, or consciously, for that matter. She stood there in shock.

“GO, LEAVE THIS PLACE!”

The eldest Horseman was fed up, covered in blood, hunched over in a half battle-ready stance, half tired hunch, panting heavily. But he was not tired, no; his deep trauma from having to, in any form of way, kill off beings that not only looked like his brethren, but also came from similar bloodlines, was like a slap in the face; even more degradation to his existence. He was done. He allowed War, Fury, and Strife to kill off any few stragglers that tried to fight back. He couldn’t do this.

That’s a bit of the gist of Zemira’s backstory. Eventually, realizing that she had nowhere to go, she sought out Death willingly, still perplexed that he allowed her to live. She was told much about The Horsemen, specifically Death, by Lilith, and all the pureblooded angels & demons that took part in the Pseudo-Nephilim’s creation. He was strong beyond belief, merciless, cold, and had no reservations in terms of ending one’s life, as his iconic moniker so plainly implies.

That was not the Death she fought.

So basically from then on she locates Death (how, I’m still not sure; Vulgrim probably has knowledge of this type of stuff, maybe even Ostergoth lmao), and quite slowly (over the span of like four thousand human years) builds a strong relationship upon pillars of trust & a very quiet, but real love.

During her time with Death, she took the time to find beauty in all things, and in turn, properly cope with the constant abuse she suffered & her negative self-worth due to that. She learns to love herself, and tries to get Death to do the same. Zemira also tends to hide her pain with kindness & positivity; always attempts to see the good in others.

She is very level-headed and extremely thoughtful, almost uncharacteristic for a Nephilim of any kind. She puts the safety of others before her own (Specifically Death’s safety). Death also keeps her existence a secret from the Charred Council, as she would be killed without a second thought if they were to find out that Death allowed her to live.

Strife, War, and Fury eventually become aware of this relationship between Death & Zemira, and come to accept it. They see that she makes him happy, and is insurmountably precious to him.

After that novel of a post, here is her updated character sheet (Tbh this is just the most recent one. I may have to update it once more just for my sake):

Here’s some random artwork of Zemira with Death to end this post off:

[acrowamongsparrows]

Day 4 Accomplished/Macabre

His hand ran through the tall grass as he walked through the wood, a slight smile on his face as he felt the dew drops of early morning sticking to his fingers to slide among the scars of his trade.  He was hunter and trapper, but not in the sense that many thought.  When someone called for a hunter they expected a tall, meaty man covered in furs who spoke little and always had something monstrous to show of his prowess.  David was different.  

A beard was clear on his face but that only was due to the weather and how much Sara had been enjoying to play with it when the babe was in his lap.  Margaret would roll her eyes and smile at her husbands as she busied with their quaint home full of a mixture of hand-me-downs and furniture from Lan Exeter.  He was particularly proud of a looking glass he'd bought from a merchant ship from the south, there was something incredible of looking into heavens on a clear night.  His family was poor in the eyes of the city but in the eyes of Markhor he was quite the upper class, to almost the extent of Buckenhall if he really wanted to be.

But there was the differences again, David was content.  Not in a way that spoke of a man accepting his life, but true contentment and happiness in his small cabin with his girls.  He was happy with his steady trade of hunting game and bringing it to the small market or Alina.  He was happy to spend an evening in the Leaf, hear a wild tale, and go home to Margaret's arms or walk home hand in hand with Margaret when her mother could watch Sara.

Adjusting his half cape about his shoulders, David began to slow his pace as he peered between the weeds for his catch today.  They said he had sixth sense for where the game was hiding, but truthfully he knew he was just patient and could be quiet.  His gait grew even slower as he listened, no breeze which was good for him as it meant his scent stayed put.  A shake of the grass to the right would bring him to a stop, slowly easing himself down to one knee and breathing in softly through his nose.  With well practiced silence, David would slowly pull his crossbow from around his back to hand a bolt already held in place by a clip he'd imagined up himself.  He was lucky Candell could forge such a small item and for little cost.  

A finger gently moved the metal knob to the right and unlocked it before setting a bolt to the fire lane.  David let his breathing grow softer and tell her near held it, craning his ears to the sounds nearby that he knew was his quarry.  Speed and efficiency was the key if he hoped to bag his deer today, but knew that any false start or move could be just as disastrous.

Patience.

Patience was his power and he knew how to control it as he waited for one more move to pinpoint the exact spot of the deer's bed.

One breath.  Two breath.  Three breath.  A shift in the grass as autumn decided it needed to let forth a sigh as much as him.  A flash of yellow, a blink of black, and now he was pushing up to his feet.

One breath.  Two breath.  Three breath.  The deer was rising, two short antlers rising as fast as him as the black glassy eyes of the deer locked with his own.

One breath.  Two breath.  Pull.  The bolt flew straight and true, the skilled bowman's shot driving deep into the broadside behind the front let.  Three breath.

The deer in panic and pain flew, it's heavy legs pulling it straight up and bounding into the tall grass as it caught the flecks of crimson from it's wound as it stumbled back toward the wood.  David smiled as he followed the trail of blood, reaching back to reload his crossbow as he walked along behind it.  Today was a good day.

Blood flecked the crushed weeds as they grew thinner and broke into the forest edge into the woods.  Tuft of grass and scrape of dirt from a drug horn was only a few yards further, the beast was putting up quite a fight as he followed the trail of his prey.  The blood was falling faster as he walked, thicker, and more frequent as he sped up his step further into the wood in fear of losing the thing to some other predator.  Further he traveled that began to seem more likely what happened as he noticed the darker it grew the deeper he went after.  

"You gotta slow down by now," murmured David as he stepped over a large rock and pressed on, noting a torn bit of fur to match the splatter of blood nearby.  Still warm.  "Where the hell are you going?"

The trees broke again as he marched onward leaving a soft clearing before a copse of trees loomed ahead.  David came to slow halt as he looked up at those trees, they sat tall and still.  Much like the air around him as he licked his lips and tried to hear something out there in the open air.  Nothing.  A feeling of dread sat in the pit of his stomach as he stood there staring at the trees.  He should cut his losses and go home.  They had plenty.  Plenty of skins, meat, and money this wasn't worth it.  But human nature was an animal unto itself as curiosity burned brightly through logic, springing forward with his loaded crossbow to investigate further.

The yards to the trees took seconds to reach, but the smell in the air hit him far before.  Rank and earthy, like rotten meat as he coughed and lifted his sleeve to his mouth in hopes of saving him from the stench.  It was like a tide of putrid ilk that was awful and familiar as he wandered these woods for years to know the smell.  

Death.

It felt far to poetic to put it in terms like that in his head, but the thick air of stench made him want to vomit as he entered the gathering trees.  His eyes falling over the trunks of the trees as he noted a strange tangle of dark veins rising from the earth to dig deep into their bark.  They pulsed with an eerie almost breathing motion as he thought better of touching one, knowing his curiosity could only push him so far into this adventure.  But he needed to find out what was going on, the village needed to know.

He should have turned back but the blood trail lead into the enclosure.

The circle of trees wasn't large but it felt thicker by the strange rooted trees surrounding the perimeter as David let his eyes move swiftly about for signs of the deer or the thief who had drug it so far.  Maybe a wolf or a bear, it was the logical idea of what was out here.  His booted feets gently slid through dead leaves, going silent and quiet as he could be in the face of this unknown foe.  The crossbow resting in the crook of his shoulder as he looked about in the silent shadows, sweeping the area as he followed the trail.  Crimson were dashed by brown and yellow leaves as the blood shined in the dark but were also framed by strange purple fauna.  

Crouching down, David let his finger brush the face of one of the violet flowers but never picked it.  It felt like any other flower but for some reason he recoiled from it's touch, as if there was something ready to bite him in the face of plain beauty.  They felt wrong.  Blooming, season, and abundance as he stood back up again to follow his bloody trail again.  It felt like hours since he'd begun and by the deep shadows around him the sky was doing little to aid him in reminding it was only maybe early afternoon.  Night ruled here.

The trail ended at the base of a tree, violet flowers spread about in a blanket of bright ground stars as they stared at him much as the eyes ahead of him did.  So many eyes.

Crows rested in the many empty branches above, their white staring eyes regarding him in silent judgement at his presence within their hold.  Where once leaves of green or even red and gold had sat now were the many feathers of the birds.  Black and beyond counting, David could already feel his mouth growing drier and chest tighter as he felt a great warning coming from them as he stared up at them.  

Run away.  Run away if you can.  Run away.

Swallowing hard, David pressed on the last few feet in the face of the carrion nightmare that guarded from above and let his eyes settle upon what they surrounded.

His kill lay on the ground before that great tree, but it had not even made it halfway here on it's own thanks to his original bolt.  No the thieves were to be thanked for that.

Twisted, crouched, and eyes much like the crows above stared at him from now from below where they surrounded what he hoped was their meal.  But that would need mouths.  Teeth.  Tongues.  Taste.  Only the blank broken animal skulls with black empty sockets leered at him with their flickering empty witch light.  Hands like warped branches wrapped in thorns and vine to hold them split into what appeared as claws had obviously only been random bones split.  The bones were clearly just as good to do their work as they carved and ravaged the carcass of his kill, splitting the fur and skin like a ripe tomato to spill the precious dying life of the deer into the soil beneath it.  Greed was clear in that earth's hunger as the blood seemed to disappear as quickly as it spilled into the loose dirt.  His deer was not the first to litter these monsters table as the jutting hunks of bone and sinew lay strewn about with purple flowers growing in the bed of corpses.

David found he was gasping now, the thick putrid air filling his lungs as his legs grew weak to the sight of the graveyard of the macabre.  He wanted to look away from the eaters of the dead but only found his eyes widening as he looked beyond them to the base of the tree.

The picked apart face of men and women sat pierced and hung by the roots of the tree, their bodies splayed for all to see who could see.  There was no blood left among those dried husks of humans as their bodies were twisted and pierced by the foliage all around only to leave the slow succor of their bones.  Mouths wide in silent screams to match the holes of sharp beaks.  An offering to those above still.  There were to many faces in that tree.

One breath.  Run.  Two breath.  Run.  Three breath.  David was running.

The black leaves above moved as one and the collective caw of their hunger rang like thunder to match an ominous high pitched hollow roar from the lungs of some long dead being.

The flowers continued to bloom.

[cloudtower-edu]

honestly I don’t even think the problem with the new winx show is that it’s darker(TM). People keep saying: Why does it have to be dark, Winx was a fun show and this is just a stereotypical treatment! And in a way, yes, it has become very repetitive but we also shouldn’t forget that especially the first few seasons of Winx could be pretty dark - think about the finale of the first season. Those were really dark themes.

But even the other gritty themes, I can forgive. That’s like...the smallest problem there is. The problem is what they do with it. They could have easily gone a little darker and more mature simply by challenging some of the pre-conceived notions of the Winx-universe a little bit; dug a little deeper into some aspects of the original-series (world-building, gender roles, monarchy, poverty, the standing of witches in the magical society, how to use magical powers in general, canonically ambigious characters) - that were difficult to explore in a show for kids and young teenagers. All that might have provided interesting insights and plot-points for a more mature audience and I feel like they tried that by being a little more morally ambiguous. But considering that they have pretty much remodelled the entire Winx-universe and the magical dimension, an audience who knows the original series does not get the sense that this is in any way a smart commentary on it (because it isn’t) and anyone who hasn’t seen Winx isn’t really drawn into complex, innovative magical world - it’s just somewhere between Hunger Games and Harry Potter with very little energy put into creating a world. In fact, I feel like the first few episodes of the original show, with all its limitations - did more to create a complex world than Fate.

Also, instead of making the characters more complex and actually mature, they just slapped random adult-y themes onto each character.

And a) This just...fails to be authentic and b) makes it really hard to like the characters or be invested in them. That is not to say I dislike characters who smoke week and have threesomes and while I do find it a bit ...out-of-touch and cringy to do this with Winx Club of all shows, it’s not my problem here. My problem is that this seems to be the only concept of maturity they have or rather, it’s an absolutely distorted idea of teenagers projected on them by adult writers and at this point you have to wonder. Who is the target audience here? Because the original audience of the show has no interest in seeing their childhood characters do this stuff, actual 16yo likely don’t feel represented, and older people who didn’t watch the original show will have even less reason to stay invested.

Especially, because you get about 50 different scenes in every episode so it’s hard to really get invested in who’s currently drinking, smoking weed, lying, having a threesome or whatnot. These are not character traits – these are actions and since everyone is kinda doing it to some degree or another, it’s not one that defines any character in particular. In fact, the only one stands out (sad to say bc of the white-washed mess the character is) is Terra - because she’s the one actually struggling with this kind of environment and behaviour. And while she’s sad about struggling, nothing really happens with that. She just accepts it. There is no development in her actions.

But I think it’s Stella who’s the prime example here. Now, to clarify, I haven’t watched the full series yet because I find it really hard to get through but I think she’s a great character to illustrate the problem with:

Stella, in the original series, is bubbly, loving, can be a bit self-oriented but is actually very caring. She is actually very powerful but also doesn’t really like to train. She is passionate about fashion, art and loves to share these hobbies with others. These are things we learn pretty early on in this kids show where each episode has about 20 minutes.

If we look at Fate, we never really get to know her. The first impression we get is that she is very stand-off-ish, bitter, and downright manipulative. And I like villains so that’s not so much my problem beyond the …. “that’s supposed to be Stella????”-weird-off. And the thing is, with the backstory they have given her, it might make sense that this version of Stella might turn out that way - because she internalised that treatment from her mother. But here is the problem: Original-Stella is very, very likable. It’s very easy to get invested in her problems. But that’s not the case with new Stella and they don’t really take any steps to make us invested in her problems beyond telling her story. The scene where her mother insulted her magic and humiliated her was the first one where I felt something close to an emotion for her character – but that was because her mother is objectively horrible to her child, not because of Stella’s character in particular. This scene could have happened with literally any other character and I would have felt the exact same emotion.

As an example, the reason we are shocked by the idea that she might have blinded someone is mostly because we know the original Stella and this is so absolutely out character for her. If you only watch Fate, you might learn this information and be like: “Okay, wow, what an asshole.” - but that’s it. You’re not shocked that Stella of all people would do something like that because you haven’t actually seen the loving, joyful, bubbly Stella we encounter in the orignal series. Her personality is basically non-existent (and she’s one of the more complex characters), the audience hasn’t really shared any moments with her that particular endear her or convinced us that this is shocking for any other reason than a) this is a threat for Bloom and b) wow blinding your best friend is fucked up.

Or take Musa. In the original series, we actually spend a lot of time with Musa before we learn about her backstory. And we get to know her as a happy, cheerful girl who loves music. So finding out that she actually went through a lot of pain and hardship (especially by the standards of a kids show) was actually quite the change of pace – and finding out that her father doesn’t want her to do music and doesn’t encourage her was a development you didn’t see coming. Plus, the show dedicated a lot of screen-time to this instead of giving each and every character that walks through the screen in that episode their own problems. If you look at Fate, I have yet to discover anything that Musa is really passionate about, any particular personality traits – and each and every scene is: We now cut to Musa. Musa struggles with being an empath once more. Next scene. There is no development. No plan. No perspective other than it being useful sometimes. There is no revelation.

And I feel like this is where this show falls flat: The original winx club was a very immersive show on various layers: The characters as well as the world-building. But the characters in Fate barely have any personality whatsoever. The reason the Winx worked as heroes was because you had very distinct personalities and talents (at least in the first few seasons) and while it might seem more mature to have more nuanced characters, they actually continued the same gimmicky cartoon characterisations in many ways without actually adding complexity.

[makerof150papermasks]

The Hunger Games: N. Sane Edition

Inspired by gamingkotatku’s absolutely divine Kirby vs The Hunger Games posts. 

Even the Crash Bandicoot universe, wacky as it may seem, is not immune to the Tribute Treatment. The lineup of Tributes is listed below:  

As you can tell, even I’m afraid to learn who rises on top. May the odds be ever in their favor. 

1st Day

 Everyone begins spreading out across the Taiga region except Koala Kong and Rilla Roo, who argue for no reason and murder each other. The rest of the day goes surprisingly smoothly.

 Too dumb to live, I suppose.

 Oxide and Trance plant a trap near the edge of the woods.

 Pinstripe finds a pile of pebbles and takes them

 Ok, not sure what he needs them for.

 Dingodile goes on and on about random things without paying attention and falls into District 4′s trap. 

 That didn’t take long.

2nd Day

Ripper Roo is bored and decides to frolic around like crazy

 Ami and Megumi gather discarded Wumpa Fruit for themselves

 Ya sure, girls?

 Crash twirls around like heck, bumps into Ripper Roo, gets licked, and succumbs to Blue Marsupial germs

 But why, Crash? Why?

 Megumi and Ami snack on the definitely-not-poisonous Wumpa Fruit. They get full and throw the last one far away

 Madame Amberley gets feisty and exerts her anger on Megumi for whatever reason. Ami won’t forget this

 UNFAIR!

3rd Day

Ami asks Penta Penguin and Baby T if she can borrow the Nitro Crate they grabbed from the Cornucopia. They accept and hand it to her

 Thx!

 Polar and Pura don’t take the game seriously and start play-fighting with each other

 N Brio finds a stone and begins to sharpen it

 Ami sneaks up on Amberley and gives her a taste of her Nitro Crate

 My darling!!!

 Nina finds out about Ami’s scheme and decides to take action

 Tropy and Brio work together, turning the stone into a sword with enough handiwork

 Cortex follows Tawna for the heck of it, but Tawna takes notice

 Polar eats a discarded Wumpa fruit, and he passes on from food poisoning

Twisted, cruel, sick fate! YAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!

4th Day

A killer honeybee swarm forms thick clouds ablaze with buzzing

Tropy and Brio try to fight the bees with their stone knife, but fail

N Trance tries to hypnotize the bees, but he overheats and loses his momentum

One of the insects inadvertently goes straight down Papu Papu’s esophagus. *Gulp*

 *Shudder*

 Coco tries to extract electricity from the bees’ stingers, but fails spectacularly

Cortex is left with no choice but to sacrifice himself to make the bees stop

 You call THAT logic? 

5th Day

Spitter plant infestation!

Oxide gloats about becoming the survivor until one of the plants sprouts directly below him…

Everyone tries to dodge the onslaught of bombs being spit out by the flora

Pinstripe futilely defends himself by tossing the pebbles he held onto at the oncoming bombs

 So I guess all this foreshadowing isn’t worth it. Your loss, Wise Guy.

 Ami rises to the occasion and weeds out the scum; alas, her fatigue gets the best of her

 Wait, how come no one else was willing to do any weed whacking? If they did, poor Ami could have made it through this whole ordeal like it was Wednesday afternoon.

 Nina tries to get her revenge, but finds Ami’s lifeless body already spread across the turf 

WHO WROTE THE SCRIPT FOR THIS!?!?!?!? (Yeah, I know)

6th Day

Winter falls over the Taiga

Tiny starves and decides to maul N Gin

Nina poaches Pura for his fur

U mad, sis?

Tiny becomes envious of Nina and fights neck-and-neck with her for Pura’s pelt until hypothermia catches up to them

 I still can’t believe they made you suffer… like this. There should have been another way.

7th Day

 The moment of truth, and my lungs can’t take it

You know Tributes can’t be friends forever, cruel as it is.

 Penta Penguin, in an effort to turn the tables in his favor, attempts to betray Baby T in order to claim the honor of being “Penguin yay one,” and the two of them proceed to engage in the final duel… 

So it’s the scaly, of all characters, that makes it out of the hullaballoo. Might be ironic, but at least he’s one of MY bois. Well done, son. *Applause* I had faith in ye.

[builtoutoflove]

Quarantine Tag Game

I was tagged by @silverfoxlouis and @girlhoodandothercults. Thank you for thinking of me! 

Are you staying home from work/school? I’ve been working from home for about 2.5 weeks. I’m very lucky. I’ve only had this job for 5 weeks. If I hadn’t gotten it, I would be working in retail, and I don’t know how I could handle that.

Who is at home with you? My boyfriend, my brother, my dog and my cat. Once again, I’m very lucky that I’m not alone. 

Are you a homebody? I love staying at home, but I’m also a very outdoorsy person. I live in Arkansas, so there’s lots of wide open space readily available. It’s hard for me to not go to a different lake every day and hike.

Any event you were looking forward to that got cancelled? It hasn’t been cancelled yet, but I’m sure my July Louis show in Dallas is going to be postponed :( I don’t want to talk about it, it’s currently crushing my soul. I was also supposed to be going on my first vacation in THREE YEARS to Montana. I’ve already cried my tears over that.

What movies have you been watching recently? Oh, so many. I’ve watched Frozen II, Zombieland, Prometheus (wtf), Bride Wars, 27 Dresses, every Twilight movie, every Hunger Games movie, He’s Just Not That Into You, etc. I love all of these unironically and most men would say I have shitty taste, which fuels me.

What are you doing for self-care? I take care of my body in ways that work for me. I take a shower every day. I do face masks, foot peels, use lotions, wear loose clothing, keep up my skincare routine, work out 30 minutes a day. I also do tons of baking, reading and consuming of content that I’ve been meaning to consume. Additionally, all the weed I’ve been having to smoke in order to not have an anxiety attack proves that all of that self-care stuff isn’t working for me.

What shows are you watching? The Office, Gilmore Girls and Jeopardy. Also, the Netflix limited series Self Made based on the life of Madam CJ Walker.

What music have you been listening to? Walls, Walls again and Walls. Also Tom Petty’s Wildflowers album makes me wanna go outside :( Lots of random stuff, too, like Skid Row for some 80′s glam rock, Sugar Ray for that feeling of being outside, Khalid’s American Teen album because there isn’t a better album to ever exist.

What books are you reading? At the recommendation of @dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram, I’m reading Chavs: The Demonization of the Working Class by Owen Jones. If you weren’t already angry at capitalism and Margaret Thatcher, this book will get you there!!

This was fun. I’m gonna tag some people now. 

@weareonejazzhand @lesbianlouis @leahreadsfiction <3 

[verai-marcel]

A Reason To Return (RDR2 Fanfic, Deputy AU, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You left Arthur, telling him he’ll have to woo you back the correct way. He’s trying his best. (Part of the A Fortnight Of Falling arc.)

Author’s Notes: Pure, unadulterated sugary sweet fluff. Oh, and maybe some smut at the end. Maybe. You’ll just have to find out.

Tags: romance, fluff, smut? (of course there’s smut, it’s MY writing)

AO3 link is right here, kitten.

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It had been two weeks since you left Arthur’s house. Your routine returned to normal, or at least, as normal as it could be. You went to work in the morning, had lunch at noon, worked until 5PM, and everyday like clockwork, Arthur would come by and escort you home. The two of you would talk about your day, about random things, tell each other stories. Sometimes he’d linger at your doorstep, hanging onto your every word, until you finally told him to have a good night.

You never invited him in. He never pushed the issue; he always just tipped his hat, bid you a good night in return, and left you alone.

You sometimes wished he’d push a bit. But then again, that was the reason you had left; so he’d learn to give you space. And he had. Right after you had moved back into your cabin, he showed up at your door in the morning to escort you into town. You finally told him to stop on the third day, after he didn’t get the hint when you told him you didn’t need an escort in the morning.

To your surprise, he listened.

On your first day off away from him, you had half expected him to show up and whisk you away somewhere.

He didn’t.

So on your next day off the following week, you were surprised to see him at your door, looking clean shaven, hair brushed & trimmed, dressed in a dark blue vest and white shirt. His pants were not covered in dust and dirt and fit him quite nicely, and his boots, though still scuffed up, were as clean as possible. He was fumbling with his hat in his hands.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I… I was wonderin’...” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down shyly before lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Would you like to go to St. Denis? Catch a show?’

To be honest, you had been planning to garden today. Weighing your options (could you afford to wait another week and let the weeds get bigger?), you watched Arthur with a sharp gaze, observing every change in his stance, every awkward shuffle as he looked up at you hopefully.

You finally sighed. “Sure. Let me get dressed,” you mumbled as you stepped back and shut the door of your cabin, leaving him outside to wait.

***

Once you had closed the door, you leaned against it and let your smile grow. Then you went to get your prettiest dress. Of all the things you thought he might do to win you back, you hadn’t expected this.

You got dressed in record time and went back out to see him brushing his horse, mumbling as if the horse understood him. He quickly looked up when he heard the door shut and quieted once he saw you. Your dress was dark red and gold, the shoulders a little poofy, the neckline dipping low enough to catch his attention and make his gaze darken with hunger. The sleeves were long, with lace ruffles at the ends. You smiled at him, knowing where his thoughts were going.

“Shall we go?” you said as you walked up to him, smirking.

Shaking his head of his carnal thoughts, Arthur smiled back. He held his hand out to you. “My lady.”

***

The ride to St. Denis was uneventful, but the two of you just enjoyed each other’s company, with your arms wrapped around his waist. You had missed having him so close all the time, if you were honest with yourself.

The show you had gone to see was a series of unrelated entertainers, but they had all been pretty amazing, except for the woman with the small magician and the giant brute. That had been amazingly, accidentally, hilarious.

In between acts, the two of you whispered to one another, making snide comments and being snarky as hell, making the other laugh. You were actually having a great time, and surprised by how similar your sense of humor was with his. Arthur’s smiling, laughing face was a rare thing to see these days, and you realized you missed it more than you thought.

After the show was over, Arthur led you out, your hand on his arm. Once outside, he lifted you back up on his horse.

“Would you like to get dinner in town while we’re here?”

You pondered. And made a decision.

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I’ll make you something.”

Arthur’s eyes sparkled like the Milky Way as he replied, “That sounds amazin’.”

***

You knew this would happen. The moment you two were past the city limits, Arthur pushed his horse to a hard gallop, and you clung to Arthur tightly as he raced back to your place. You knew why, and you laughed when he finally slowed as he reached the hill before your cabin.

“Impatient, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am,” he grumbled. “Been waitin’ for you to invite me in for too long.”

“I just invited you in for dinner. I never said anything else.”

He turned in the saddle to look at you. The heat in his stare withered your resolve a little bit.

Just a little bit.

He practically leapt off from the saddle and helped you down before hitching his horse and following you inside. He seemed so big in your small one-room cabin, and you found yourself growing a little nervous just having him in here.

You started making biscuits and gravy, with Arthur helping to mix the dough for the biscuits. It felt so right, the two of you together like this, and with each passing moment, the fact that you had really missed him was sinking more deeply into your mind. You had felt empty these past two weeks, and now you knew why. It wasn’t just the nights of surrendering to his passion that you missed, although you had to admit that you longed for that too.

You wanted to return to the way things were right before you had left, when the two of you would share a dance of domesticity at dusk. It was something so ethereal in its banality; it felt like a warm blanket in winter, a hot soak in a tub, a steaming cup of coffee. You missed that feeling.

You wanted it back.

After dinner, after everything was cleaned and put away, the two of you looked at each other. Arthur waited for a moment, but you said nothing, so he started to head for the door.

“I had a mighty fine time,” he said, his back turned to you, his hand on the handle. He waited a moment more. “I missed you,” he said quietly.

You hesitated.

He turned the handle.

“Wait!”

He let go of the handle.

“I… I missed you too.” You walked closer to him.

His breathing hitched.

“Please.” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “Stay.”

Arthur’s head bowed, his hands gripping yours as you fisted the fabric of his shirt. “If I stay, I won’t hold back.”

“I know.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He turned in your arms and pulled you into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered.

And then he picked you up and walked over to the bed.

***

Laying you down gently, Arthur caressed your cheek tenderly before standing up, his hands moving to his belt. You watched, your body heating up like a kettle on a fire as he took off his belt, setting it aside. He took off his vest, slid the suspenders down his arms, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, a teasing light in his eyes as he slid it off his broad shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. He kicked off his boots, then reached for his button fly.

“I think it’s your turn,” he said with nothing but his pants on. “I’ve taken off enough for now.”

You sat up on the bed, annoyed that he stopped right when it was getting to the best part. But two could play that game. Grabbing his hands, you pulled him onto the bed, making him sit down as you stood up. Settling yourself in his lap, you smiled up at him.

“I’m just a woman. Maybe you should help?” You batted your eyelashes at him.

He scoffed, knowing full well that you could take it off yourself. But he smiled as he started to unbutton your dress, his hands caressing every bit of skin he revealed with each button undone. He slid the cloth over your shoulders, kissing your collarbone and shoulder as he continued down, until your dress was bunched around your waist, your chemise beginning to slide off your shoulders.

Standing up, you took your dress off the rest of the way and walked away from him, purposely swaying your hips as you set the dress on top of your cabinet. You slowly walked back towards him in just your drawers and chemise, sliding each article of clothing off until you finally stood an inch in front of him, completely nude.

“Your turn,” you said, a teasing smile on your lips.

His reaction to you tantalizing him with your deliberate striptease was to grab you and pull you onto the bed, immediately pinning you down with his body.

“You naughty kitten,” he growled. “Teasin’ me like that.” He took your mouth with an intensity that bordered on violence, grinding his hips against yours, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing harshly against your skin. He tore himself away so he could kneel before you and spread your legs apart. Slipping a finger inside of you, he curled it upwards, hitting something inside of you that made you gasp.

“There ya go, darlin’,” he said encouragingly, pushing another finger inside you. Then he bent down to lick your clit, and you lost all thought as you mindlessly lifted your hips to meet his devilish tongue. He pushed you back down with one hand on your thigh as he continued his sensual teasing, taking you to the edge before pausing to blow gently on your skin, letting you down from your high without giving you release. By the fifth time he had done it, you were a whimpering, sobbing mess, begging him desperately to let you come.

Letting you cool down a sixth time, he stood up and started to take off his pants. Your eyes zeroed in on his hard cock, and he stroked it slowly, his smile and his eyes burning with the need to make you his once more. Crawling up your body, he coaxed your legs apart further so he could settle himself between them. He kissed you as he guided the head of his cock around your folds, spreading your slick and teasing your clit. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he drank you in like a man starved. And he was; you felt how much he craved you in each heated touch.

Then he took you in one strong thrust. You cried out; you hadn’t had him in so long, and he pinched your clit at the same time, making you quake with the pleasure and pain wrapped up together until you couldn’t tell the difference. And all of that dizzying sensation was focused on your core, making you hyper-aware of how large he was, how much he filled you.

“I know you missed this,” he said as he pulled out almost completely before shoving himself back inside of you with enough force to move the bed. “You’re so wet, your body don’t lie.”

Without moving his hips, Arthur stroked your clit, intent on your pleasure; it didn’t take long for you to finally let go, euphoria shooting through your veins. You were addicted like a junkie, clawing at his arms as your cries filled the air.

In the midst of your climax, feeling your walls clenching around his cock, Arthur started taking you, hard and fast. Your rickety bed bounced as he pumped his hips with abandon until you were pretty sure he was deeper inside you than he had ever been, his movements frenzied with lust.

“You feel so good,” he rumbled as he reached his limits. You felt him about to withdraw to finish on you, and you wrapped your legs around him, not letting him leave.

“Shoot inside me,” you begged.

Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t stop to ask if you were sure. He just held you tightly, his body crushing yours as he let his full weight fall upon you.

“Mine,” he moaned as he came, unloading all of his spend inside of you, thrusting forcefully until he had shot every last drop into you. He lay on top of you, catching his breath before he rolled over, taking you with him, draping you on top on his chest. You felt his cock slip from you, a trail of come sliding along your thigh.

“Arthur,” you sighed happily. You heard him mumble your name in your ear as you both began to slip into a dreamless sleep, tired and satisfied.

***

The next morning, you awoke with Arthur wrapped around you, legs and arms all tangled with yours.

“Arthur?”

“Mmm, yeah?” he mumbled, half-asleep.

“You’ve ruined me, you know.”

Arthur opened his eyes, fully awake now. “What?”

You stared at him. “You finished inside me.”

“You asked! You begged for it!”

Ignoring his growing look of panic, you poked his cheek. “Are you going to take responsibility?”

He blinked. And as comprehension dawned on him, his smile grew like the rising sun, bright and warm. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t dream of shirkin’ my responsibilities.”

“Good. You can start by making me breakfast,” you joked with a grin.

He took your hands and kissed them. “Okay then.” As he got up and threw on his pants, he turned back to you. The look in his eyes was full of love and made your heart skip a beat.

“I’ll take care of ya. Always.”

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End Notes: AND THEY GET MARRIED AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER. THE END.

I mean, I could be persuaded to write that part too. Maybe.