#jewish sand siblings

[edai-crplpnk]

Some Team 8 + Sand Sibs chara sheets

I procrastinated writing yesterday by doing little chara sheets for my polycule AU.

Kiba and Shino have been dating since they were teens. Shino and Hinata have been dating since college. Kankurou and Kiba start dating at 22/25 (I am writing this fic). Hinata and Kankurou may or may not have some queerplatonic relationship going on eventually.

I used this picrew for the sheets!

Additional facts!

Kiba:

Inuzuka Kiba isn't his legal name, he is still officially registered under his deadname and his father's family name. He might change it once his father's dead, probably not before that since he doesn't want him to know about it. The rest of the polycule handle most of his mail so he doesn't have to deal with it unless necessary.

He is Japanese through his father and Filipino through Tsume.

Hana is his half-sister (different father).

He transitioned in his late teens and has been on T + post-top surgery for some years now.

He got a hysterectomy for endometriosis.

He doesn't smoke much anymore, mostly vapes, which allows him to control CBD/THC levels and ratio better.

Kankurou:

He doesn't identify as trans, but might identify as non-binary somewhere along the way. He's fine with being seen as a man and conveniently goes by he/him, but is honestly a bit too psychotic and dissociated to really have an opinion about his gender and gendered body.

He is Jewish through his mother, but was raised by Baki (here, Rasa's half-brother) so most of his relationship with Judaism and Jewishness is self-taught reconnection.

He had only one brief relationship before Kiba and had sort of settled for the idea of not trying to look for partners (both romantically and sexually) because it was a lot of work and socialisation and it didn't feel all that too important for him, but hey, shit happens. (Kiba happens, and it's good shit.)

He gets a colectomy and stoma bag for his ulcerative colitis around 25 (again, the KankuKiba fic is about that). He probably won't try to get a reversal surgery in the future because he hates surgeries and hospitals.

Shino:

He mostly uses Makaton and text-to-speech as AAC. The former is easier for short indications and requests in daily life, and the latter for more complex conversations.

He gets on opioid replacement therapy sometime during his teens, although still injects occasionally as an adult.

He was initially assigned male at birth, and then reassigned female during his childhood, which he (very understandably) did not live well. Shibi defended his right to choose his gender presentation and refuse further intersex surgeries after that, and he's been mostly living as a boy/man since then. He half identifies as a cis man, half not because dissociation and plurality and trauma make gender complicated but he's sort of working through it. He'd still consider his relationship with Hinata straight, and his relationship with Kiba gay.

His parents broke up when he was a kid (in part over the decisions made about him) and Shibi raised him for the most part. He sometimes sees his mother as an adult, but they're relationship is not very good.

Hinata:

It's been a bit of a struggle to slowly acclimate Hiashi to her being part of a polyamorous relationship, but he does like Shino a lot, so that helped. (He doesn't have an excellent opinion of Kiba but they also mostly never see each other and they're happy with that.)

She has a fairly ok relationship with her family now, but being able to move out and live in group with way less hierarchy and a whole lot more community support has been very healing and helping with having more resources to maintain her relationship with her family too.

Kankurou does all her phone calls (as that of about everyone in the polycule, to be honest).

And the sibs!

Gaara:

He's had a lot of autism-related struggles as a child/teen, but functions much better as an adult now that he understands his needs better and has accommodated his daily life to them. He works as a landscaper but has a lot of at-home work hours.

Lee is his first relationship (I also have a fic about that) and he does think he's gay? But also never has thought about neither his orientation nor the idea of dating and who he would want to date much before that, so he's not sure. He's going with that for now.

He waxes his eyebrows because he compulsively plucks them otherwise. Dying his hair also helps with trying not to pluck them.

He was mostly raised by Yashamaru, who is Jewish and raised him Jewish, but has a bit of a complicated relationship with that because there was a lot of projection on Yashamaru's end, and difficulty to see him as his own person and not just his late sister's baby. He's not religious although he sort of still observant out of habit. (Ex: he doesn't necessarily care about eating kosher, but it's also the food he's used to make and eat, so he will still go for that most of the time.)

Temari (in pyjamas mode in this picture because I didn't have something less casual that fitted her style in the picrew):

She works as a diplomat and is very much a workaholic. The trauma is strong but the grind is stronger.

Just like Kankurou, she was raised by Baki and her connection to Jewishness and Judaism are mostly self-taught. She is a bit less observant than Kankurou.

She has chronic pain that she probably ignores a bit too much, but who can really stop her. (Kankurou should try and probably does.) Compression stockings enthusiast.

She has a motorcycle that Kankurou is very afraid to ride. (Gaara is okay.)

I'll probably do more in this AU later!

#team 8 #sand siblings #shino aburame #kiba inuzuka #hinata hyuga #kankuro #temari #gaara #naruto headcanon #modern au #jewish sand siblings #jewish kankuro #jewish temari #jewish gaara #trans kiba inuzuka #intersex shino aburame #autistic gaara #autistic shino aburame #autistic hinata hyuga #kankukiba #kankiba #shinohina #shinokiba #gaalee

[writtenbyerna]

The Sandman more like The Sadman. (Review)

Listen, I wanted to put up 10 things I like about The Sandman kasi may 10 eps siya, but I don’t have enough words and energy to create a cohesive list of how much I love this series.

 The Sandman is an adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s comic with the same title, and it tells the story of Lord Morpheus a.k.a. Dream a.k.a. The Sandman (he has a lot of names so for my sake, we will call him Dream.) Dream was imprisoned by mortals when he went outside his realm, The Dreaming, to follow a nightmare that is creating havoc amongst humans. He spent a century living in the cellar of Roderick Burgess and his son. When he had the chance to escape, he has little power because his helm (helmet that looks like a black plague mask), his sand (black pouch full of sand that enables him to travel??), and his ruby (which makes dream come true) were taken away from him. He went off to look for it and when he did a new problem arose. A dream vortex is born. Dream cannot catch a break istg.

 I could list a lot of reasons why you should give The Sandman a chance but it all boils down to the fact that The Sandman is a wonderful piece of art that explores humanity, and every facet of it. It is about humanity at its core although the main character is an anthropomorphic personification of dreams. If you want to watch how powerful hope is, you should give The Sandman a try.

    My thoughts (that I wrote) while watching:

- Dream has the bone structure of Brendon Urie and the paleness of Gerard Way. In short, he looks like an emo kid.

- His spine can’t be that natural??? He looks like he has a spine of a bird.

- Jessamy, baby I’m so sorry.

- The Palace is seriously so pretty, is that a dragon???? HE HAS A PEGASUS???

-  Ahhhhhh, Dream as a cat!!!!

- Dream is a prick. An idiot prick.

- Lucienne, I love you so much, tell him he’s stupid.

- Justice for Gregory!!

- Cain and Abel! The First Victim and the First Murder.

- Ethel Cripps, ma’am your necklace eats people. Get help.

- Corinthian, you don’t have eyes???????????????????

- I want a gargoyle.

- JOHANNA CONSTANTINE! I love every version of Constantine because they don’t listen to anyone, it’s hilarious.

- Matthew, you are perfect.

- Johanna asking if Dream has any ex-girlfriends and Dream shutting up immediately.

- Constantine said gay rights babes

- “You want your sand back to save humanity, well, here she is!”

-  Ethel babe how old are you again????????? 116????

- Ep 4 is a stress-inducing episode. This is why we do not talk to strangers.

- The fact that Dream manifests differently depending on what people believe in is beautiful. Dream is Kai’ckul. Dream is whatever people believe.

- Morningstar is iconic. She looks like an angel. So perfect for her role.

- This is a pokemon battle. I cannot.

- AHHHHHHHH Dream’s last move!!

- This is not a Diner.

-  “Not lies, John. Dreams” “Their dreams inspire them.” “Their dreams kept them alive.”

- Dream is so pretty and kind. I love her.

- Death came and massacred my boy, Dream.

- Bread.

- Death and Dream exude so much sibling energy. Dream is a pouty pouty boy.

- Kind death.

-  Hob Gadling. I love you.

- Love the idea that there is someone living out there for hundred of years because Death and Dream decided to prove something.

-  Are they in a relationship? They are.

- William Shakespeare met every kind of celestial being and that’s why his stories are still remembered until this day as a headcanon is something I can live with.

- ROB IS JEALOUS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE I CAN NOT HAHAHAHA

- Dream said do not even attempt at slavery, babe.

- Constantine is so prettyyy

- The Devil and the Wandering Jew meet once every century.

- “I am no Devil” “I am not Jewish” they are so stupid

- When Character A fights people while Character B sits prettily on the side, is a dynamic I will always love and adore.

- They broke up but they didn’t.

- Dream isn’t coming Rob :<

- “I’ve always heard it is impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.” The character development ohmygod.

-------- end -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------too mad because Dream cannot catch a break

#the sandman #sandman #neil gaiman #review #netflix #morpheus #dream #death

[reversesymmetry]

This whole situation has been so draining for trans people in general.

So you’re telling me that, at the height of anti-trans rhetoric and legislative proposal globally, that you can’t do the bare minimum and not buy Tammy TERF’s Shitty Magic School Adventure Simulator? You can’t just say ‘yeah, it looks okay, but my ally ship to the trans community AND THE JEWISH COMMUNITY matters more than a shitty video game.” Jewish people have been asking you not to play the game. Trans people have been asking you not to play the game. Why do you have to play the game anyway?

And the amount of trans people I’ve seen purchasing and preordering the game is astounding to me as well. It’s like sheep knowingly cavorting with a pack of wolves (not that I like the sheep comparison but come on). You’re literally handing more money to Tammy TERF that she can turn around and fork into the UK political climate to support further legislation to attack our trans siblings across the pond, and you’re okay with that?

“Oh you’re pushing allies away by drawing a line in the sand over this—“ good. Because if they can’t just do the ONE THING people ask, they’re not allies. You’re just telling on yourself that the first fucking time you hear something you don’t like, you don’t care about the trans community and willingly give your money to Tammy fucking TERF.

I’m not Jewish, so I’m not going to speak in detail on the experience of the Jewish community, but when the storyline is literally a Bl/ood li/bel allegory, and knowing that gob/lins are a stand-in for Jewish stereotypes and how fucking offensive it is for them to be the villains of this game, how could you stand to support the game?

“Support the dev—.” They’re already paid. And even if they weren’t, I’m not supporting a company who threw together such an antisemitic piece of trash.

Just say you aren’t an ally and go. I’m so fucking tired.

#shut up owen #vent post #I don’t care if anyone reads this or not I just needed to get this out of my head before it killed me

[vintageswitcheroo]

Hello, Tumblr! It’s me, Mrs. Pidge Almina DePeche. Trying to figure out what exactly to put in my introduction post…

I guess I should start at the point that I started to get into vintage things. My first real exposure to a glamorous, idealized view of the past came with late-night Disney channel specials that dated to the 50s and 60s. That was my first real exposure to the mid-century aesthetic, hourglass strapless gowns and red lips. I grew up in the 90s, which had an aesthetic I would say was as far from that as you can get.

That was mostly just a passive appreciation as a single-digit child, though. It wasn’t until I turned 10 and discovered the Second World War that I *really* began to develop a vintage obsession.

For decades, now, I have admired the spirit of the Allies and the aesthetics of the wartime western world. Study and living history have given me an appreciation for the world my grandparents experienced and the battles their siblings fought to ensure freedom for the downtrodden. From sewing period dresses to cooking ration-friendly recipes, I try to remind myself as often as possible of the values and realities that shaped my parents’ parents’ world.

Even though I’m an American, I also have a particular affection for the British experience during the war, because they had it so very hard, and they kept up so admirably well, and they stood strong in the face of hellfire raining down on them and the threat of invasion for years before we stepped up to help them. They were the line in the sand between evil and the free world, and they held no matter the cost.

I’m a vintage lifestyle, not vintage values, person. I believe wanting to live in a way that highlights and honors the contributions of my grandparents and great-grandparents to the world during that time is antithetical to romanticizing the idea of the will-less, limpid, thoughtlessly submissive woman, and I have no patience for the fash. I’m in a lesbian relationship, I’m not only a woman though I was assigned that at birth, I am constantly working to unpack my biases and my privilege. I’m autistic, I’m studying to become Jewish. I am NOT your future tradwife. I am one of the ones tradwives think belong in walled ghettos, and I am getting my grubby little hands all over their floral prints and home-baked bread.

Aaaand…yes, I am a dirty-minded, kinky bitch. My appreciation for the WWII era is inextricably linked to certain salient experiences I had as a 10 year-old involving iconic imagery of the time that set my little prepubescent heart a-flutter. I cannot talk about the era and my love for it without talking about my fetish for many things about the time period, from visuals to fiction tropes and more.

There are some aspects of me that like the idea of being the Don Draper Daddy type, drinking scotch out of a gold-rimmed glass in a corner office. There are other aspects of me that love the idea of being the saddle-shoe wearing co-ed with a bow in her hair and a flirtatious smile on her lips. There are parts of me that want to be the darling pin-up singing at the USO show. A part of me that longs to be the Daddy’s girl waiting at home with open arms for the conflict to end. And a part of me that wants to tie on an apron and bake cookies for a petulant brat or two.

Throw all of that into a blender and pour it into a soda fountain milkshake glass, put a little cream and a cherry on top, and pop in a pastel paper straw, and I guess that’s me in a nutshell. At least, the pieces of me I am choosing to present here.

A vintage enthusiast whose interests span a large portion of the early and mid 20th century, but center firmly on the Second World War and the immediate postwar years.

A neurodivergent weirdo with a hyperfixation on the ever-receding past.

A queer person who performs femininity on my own terms rather than in the way I am expected to.

A horny degenerate who will spank and be spanked in turn, depending on my mood.

In other words…Pidge.

[bichilchuck]

if i were a rich man

shikatema + gen sand sibs | T | 8.8k

Shikamaru wants to fight Gaara. Gaara wants to find Temari a chaperone.  Temari just wants to get this all over with. 

Gaara finds his sister in the library of their home, with books spread open around her and her head in her hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked, because there had been few times in his life when he had seen Temari in such a state, with her hair all frizzy with flyaways and her shoulders slumped. She looked up, frustration so clear in her face Gaara felt momentarily cowed, would have taken an involuntary step backwards if he hadn’t felt hatred even more intense than the temper his lovely older sister kept just barely tamped down levelled at him before. There were dark circles under her eyes, just light enough one could almost have mistaken them for smeared makeup if they hadn’t known she didn’t wear any (she only smeared kohl lines around her eyes during missions in the dunes of Suna, not around the house casually like Gaara nor puppeteer’s facepaint like Kankuro) and they stretched like the dark eye rings of a tanuki as she dragged her hands down her face.

She made an unintelligible noise of frustration that might’ve been words if her mouth wasn’t stretched out in a cartoonish frown. He tried a different question.

“Why do you have so many books out on…” he flipped one closed, careful to keep his finger in place as a marker where she’d had it open, “Konohan courting traditions?”

She groaned again, scrubbing her fists into her squeezed shut eyes. Gaara lifted a naked brow in question, because really, this was starting to get ridiculous and she did know Sunan sign language if she felt she couldn’t communicate verbally. They had long since grown past the grunts and groans stage of nonverbal communication, had grown past it when Gaara was barely ten and Baki had begun tutoring the three of them in sign language in private.

“Because Shikamaru wants to fight you.” she groaned. His lack-of-brow lifted further, kanji-shaped scar wrinkling.

read the rest on ao3

#shikatema #naruto #sand siblings #sand sibs #jewish sand siblings #aj.txt #naruto tag

[momowho34]

kankuro, to gaara: what do you wanna eat?

shukaku: the souls of the innocent

gaara: a bagel

shukaku: NO

gaara: ....two bagels-

#shitpost #naruto #incorrect naruto quotes #naruto shitposting #sand siblings #gaara #temari #kankuro #love em #my boys (and girl) #(u know what I mean) #vines #my jewish ass is like “six bagels

[sweetlittleoreo]

this post is for my goyish followers, because I want y'all to hear about the holiday we are having now, which is Purim!

Purim has a great story and I can make a post about it if somebody is interested, but what I wanted to explain is the Holyness of our holidays.

So we have shabbat, right? It's a holy day and we can't work on shabbat (work includes but is not limited to Actual Work, handling money, drawing, driving or riding a vehicle, turning on the lights, cooking, using electrical devices)

We have two categories of holidays: (bear with me on the names)

De'orayta/דְּאוֹרָיְתָא and De'rabbanan/דְּרַבָּנָן (it's aramaic I'm sorry) which means "from the Torah" and "from Rabbis"

The Torah holidays have a Holy Day, which is like shabbat, and some of them have Sand holidays (Chol Hamoed lol) (because we have Holy and Sand days) (which is Holidays and than regular day so sand holiday is the inbetween) anyway,,,

And holidays from Rabbis don't have a Holy day.

The two (low key three but nvm) Rabbi holidays are the famous Hanukkah and its less known sibling, Purim.

Which means both Hanukkah and Purim have the same Religious significance. (And by that I mean... the Holymeter beeps the same)

So the whole shazam around Hanukkah is kind of shit if you don't give the same energy to Purim, because when it comes to actually learn more about jewish holidays and traditions, Yom Kippur means so much more.

P.s yes this post was made because I'm mad Purim doesn't get that much attention even tho it's a kick ass holiday and it's so fun and it's a commend to get drunk

TL;DR Purim deserves as much attention from Goys as Hanukkah, and they both actually need to get much less hype than Yom Kippur or Pesach or Sukkot (which nobody even talks about???)

[Image ID: a gif showing a red, heart shaped digital locket. It opens to reveal text on each side of it, black on white background. The left says "Purim my beloved". The right says "Purim my beloved" in hebrew. The gif loops. /end ID]

#judaism #jew #jewish #jewishness #purim #holydays #holidays #jewish tradition #jewish education #i'm really new on ID's so i'd love it if you can correct me! and i'll edit it!

[itscalledmidgar]

so anyway i already said all yr faves are gay and trans, but also? the sand siblings and the akimichis? jewish. the nara clan? autistic. the inuzukas and the uzumakis? adhd. i have more but i need to go back through my old blog and see my Good Opinions From Then

also like half of the leaf village is dyslexic bc i think it’s funny (and i can hardly read so they don’t get to either)

#vii.rtf

[isaacbendavid]

While he hadn’t been a Rabbi for very long in the grand scheme of his life, Isaac Ben-David had attended plenty of funerals. Jewish funerals. Where the kippot covered heads and the tallit covered shoulders, where mothers and brothers wept and G-d was praised. The Mourner’s Kaddish, in fact, never mentions death or loss. It speaks, instead, of the glory of G-d. How many times had Isaac lifted G-d’s name up in glory, mourned with the People Israel, Kol Yisrael? It was different, now, to be mourned with, to stand before the grave of his wife, to praise G-d as he held his son’s hand, this yahrzeit coming to a close.

What a year in his life it had become. It wasn’t so long ago that Isaac was still waking up each morning with his wife next to him in bed, auburn hair tousled about. When his day consisted of drinking coffee with his grandfather, walking along the beach with his wife and son. When he had been a Torah scholar, a true mensch. Everything had once felt so alive and full of possibility, when they were expecting a daughter, their beloved Talia, whose grave sat beside Shoshana’s now. Isaac had been inconsolable during their shiva, bound to fits of sobbing and then of rage, screams of grief muffled by the shoulder of his father or mother as he fell into them. But such overt displays of resentment and disbelief had been relinquished on that seventh day of mourning, when the eyes of his son had peered up at him, old enough to comprehend his loss. They had lasted only a few months in Tel Aviv following the burial, when Isaac finally admitted he needed help, and Levi and Eliana Ben-David welcome their son back to Eureka.

How strange it was now, to stand in this crowed group of mourners, his parents, cousins, dear friends, worse still, Shoshana’s family. Asher and Sarah Kopel, his brothers and sisters-law, all standing with devastation in their verdant eyes, the same as Shoshana’s. He wondered, often, how they must loathe him. Shoshana had been so young, only twenty-six. They’d not been pleased to learn she was going to run off to Israel and marry Isaac, the then dubious rabbinical student with seemingly limited prospects. They had wanted her to see and have more of life, and then hers had come to such a sudden end. His mother-in-law had cautioned them on their quickness to marriage, that something so sudden was not built to last. They couldn’t comprehend the depth of this love, a love that had given them Noah, a love that would have brought Talia and countless other auburn haired, brown-eyed babies into the world if they’d only had the chance.

  They had all gathered at his grandparents’ home, the looming multifamily complex by the sea, where they tried to laugh, to smile, to honor the memory of their sweet Shoshana. Her brother Samuel spoke of their time as children, of near-death experiences they’d kept from their mother, of inside jokes, of the adulation he’d had for his eldest sister. Her best friend, Yael, sang the praises of a woman who had cherished her friends, had loved her son with every fiber in her being, and thanked G-d for bringing Isaac into her life. The stories went on and on, celebrations for a young soul stolen by foolishness. And then it was Isaac’s turn, after her mother and father had wept, as Levi had kept a hand on the back of his son’s head, letting Isaac lean into him for support. But now it was Isaac Ben-David turn to stand, to attest for his great blessing, to speak of the mitzvah that was the life of Shoshana Ben-David, Rebbetzin, Meyven, Macher, Shayna Punim, his Basheret.

  “I met Shoshana by chance, a story you all know by now. Shoshana claimed to be so certain of me that she had picked me out from a crowd of men in the Shuk Mahane Yehuda, where she could have had her pick of the ambition, better looking men fighting in the IDF. Somehow, in some way, I had stood out to this magnificent woman. I admit, for the first time in my life, I found the study of Torah much less practical, as I traipsed around the country following her Birthright trip. That was all the time it took, to fall in love. I waited patiently for that spring, when she would graduate from college and come back to visit me, a visit that became permanent. A wedding planned in record time, something we Jews are quite good at… And nine months later, our gorgeous boy, our tatala. I was always trepidatious and Shoshana was always determined. She ran our family home with an iron fist and a soft heart, caring for my beloved grandparents as though they were her own. Now, I think of the small things, how delicately she would comb Noah’s hair in the morning, the way she looked at me when she thought I didn’t notice, and how much she loved all of you. I used to worry that I had taken something from her, bringing her to Israel to live with me. It’s only in this past year that I realized every part of our brief life together was by her design, and I, the happy test subject. I think of the way she would hold my safta’s hand, the way she would sneak my zaide a cigarette and thought I wouldn’t catch him later. I think of all of this, these unspeakable bonds, a love I cannot properly put into words. I think of this woman, my wife, of the two people who made her, of the brothers and sisters and friends who helped shape her, and what a gift and sacrifice it was to share her with me. I…” 

It was then that Isaac paused, catching the gaze of Shoshana’s siblings, all younger than her, all looking far too much like her, and the mixture of sorrow and joy in their eyes as Isaac spoke of her. They had loved to host their family year-round, but Isaac had particularly enjoyed Samuel’s gap year, which he’d spent with them in Tel Aviv. Noah had only been a year old, and he had been a heaven-sent addition even as an eighteen-year-old without a lick of Hebrew under his belt. Sarah and Asher might resent Isaac for the rest of their days, but Isaac knew, at least, that he had allies in the rest of the Kopel clan.

  “I am a better man for having been loved by her.” Isaac concluded, feeling heavy-hearted and light-headed. He found himself back to his chair, where his father’s arm wrapped around him, his mother’s hand on his knee. And there Isaac sat, prone to a muted agony until the memorializing was over, and he could sit alone on the sands of the Mediterranean Sea as the moon bathed the ocean in white light, and his brain could finally quiet.

And in that quiet, he wondered if it was truly for the best that he and Noah remain in Israel. So much of his shared life with Shoshana was here, dear friends, so much of his extended family, even now some of hers. He could be happy here, free from so much. As he sat, he concluded this was best. But then, as the Rabbi closed his eyes, there she was.

And it was then Isaac knew Eureka would soon be in his sights again.

#tw death #tw grief #I'm selfish never did think about anyone but myself → muse #; drabble tag tbd.

[smile-files]

melon’s comprehensive kinlist!

including name of character, source, image, short personality description, mbti, and then why i kin them! take your time to read, or don’t. i get it if you don’t want to scroll through an entire page just to psychoanalyze me lmao, have a good time

1. wirt (over the garden wall)

an angsty, socially awkward dweebus who nerds out over interior design and plays the clarinet. fears death. infp.

my first kin! for a month after rewatching otgw i desperately wanted to be him. to be like him. anything!! it eventually wore away but i still feel that urge sometimes - the urge to write r/im14andthisisdeep poetry and to distance one’s self from their siblings... and heck - his tape for sara is indeed just as awkward as he is but let me assure you that his poetry and clarinet are actually pretty cool. 9/10 i need to see him more. give me more otgw comics. ok thanks.

2. snufkin (moomins)

a philosophical vagabond of vague age. acts stoic all the time but can and will leave every social situation whether or not it’s humanly possible. infp.

after watching some 90s moomin (and later on moominvalley) i realized how much i liked him and how much i was like him; i soon daydreamed of myself, as snufkin, venting to someone. it made me very happy. i vibe with his general demeanor and ideals (minus his gripes about rules, i follow those by the book) and i love psychoanalyzing him. so fun. so fun.

3. arnold perlstein (the magic school bus)

overly-anxious jewish kid and certified expert on rocks and panicking. owns a pair of fire-proof pyjamas in a lovely shade of green. isfj.

you all saw this one coming. my early childhood lives in my mind rent free and such i can’t help but revisit arn and his character. i’ve always loved him (even in, and quite possibly especially in, the reboot) and i’ve always loved psychoanalyzing every single little thing he does (remember that one time he said he was traumatized? me too). i soon realized a lot of it was me projecting! so sue me. actually, sue miss frizzle. either one of them. i mean, if arnold really didn’t like the field trips he could’ve just filed a restraining order! ...just saying.

4. fluttershy (my little pony)

anxious pastel butterfly baby child. probably loves animals more than she loves herself. cries upon impact. isfj.

the pony i’d mentally point to and think “me”. i had like 10 fluttershy-related things growing up, like plushies or funko pops or that sdcc guardians of harmony thing. while not shy in the same manner, it was nice having a character i could relate to about so much! i cosplayed as her equestria girls form for my first comic con as well, so that’s pretty cool. in addition, me being a little lepidopterist means i was bound to love her. it was destiny~

5. lammy lamb (um jammer lammy)

socially anxious and generally anxious rock star who thinks literally everything is a guitar. has an emotional support girlfriend. infp.

man!! she embodies the feeling when you have to go to the eye doctor by yourself to get your glasses fixed or when you have to call someone over the phone... that sheer tension. the panic. the feeling of ‘i want to throw my entire being into the trash can’. but lammy has a bunch of friends to support her, so she’s cool. died by slipping on a banana peel! same, sister. and man would i like to shred on my ukulele now...

6. loser (bfb)

humble (screw bfb 21), supportive, well-loved cube dude who’s voice is like that of an angel. has an entire fanclub in his honor. enfj.

okay, no, i was never a cool kid or ‘popular’, really, but in school i was never bullied for whatever reason and was generally well-liked; i hung out with a squad of weirdos and yet the cool kids would often talk to me? and try to engage me?? despite my very apparent self-deprecation and awkwardness??? either way i feel like it’s such a blessing to me, that i have so many friends! i often feel like i don’t deserve it, but hey. it’s nice! and heck, back when i was on scratch i had a little fanclub myself :0

7. fan (inanimate insanity)

nerdy, friendly aspie boyo who subliminally vents via blogging. longs for stability in his life; was best friends with an egg. entp.

ever since i noted his aspergers-like behavior i became super attached to him - whether or not it was intentional, i found it nice having a character i can relate those feelings with. he’s really sweet and dorky and i love how he gets along with test tube, paintbrush, and lightbulb! it makes me really happy to see him whenever i do. it made me really sad when he was eliminated. what the heck. yeah i dunno i don’t kin him super strongly but i love him to bits.

8. spinel (steven universe the movie)

emotionally unstable clown girl who stood in a garden for thousands of years. patience of a saint. edge like an 11-year-old me. esfp.

uhh um uh totally wasn’t completely disturbed by how much i related to spinel after watching steven universe the movie... totally wasn’t reminded about how and why i hated middle school... totally didn’t rethink my life that day... that’s it. this is all i’m saying.

9. molly blyndeff (epithet erased)

innocent child who has a terrible father and a wonderful demeanor. teddy bear who needs a hug and a criminal as her new dad. infp.

epithet erased is adorable okay?? i knew molly was infp in the first few minutes... more precisely, i knew she was me. man!! i don’t relate directly to her angst but i still feel it. i can replicate her voice so accurately it’s scary. also, i coined a new thing -  ‘molly cake’! you have a chocolate cake, preferably with chocolate chips inside. use chocolate frosting and add little pastel star sprinkles! on top! my mom would make this cake for us anyway but then i realized it was literally just molly in cake form. and it’s just as sweet!

10. tommy coolatta (hlvrai)

a 30-something-year-old child who rocks a propeller hat. chose his last name off of a dunkin donuts menu despite the fact that he has a father. infp.

everyone loves tommy. he’s so sweet? and funny and loveable?? often times when i say something funny but bizarre, i just remember that tommy has said ‘soda helps you see faster’ and it makes me happy. if i’m going to be a weirdo i want to be the wholesome weirdo who loves soda and has a .png for a dog! also i legally have to kin tommy. i took a test for it (and i’m not complaining! i find it quite flattering).

11. twyla (monster high)

the daughter of the boogeyman; would very much like to boogey out of here, if you know what i mean. avoids people like the plague. infj.

seeing her role in the show and in the movies, i really love twyla? first of all, her voice is my new favorite thing. it’s like... gravelly? and soft? she’s the type of person who would very much like to disappear when in a crowd; thankfully, she literally can. i am drawn to any sarcastic, self-deprecating introvert who takes care of their bonkers extrovert friend (in this case howleen), as i often act as such myself. also the phrase ‘boogey sand’ will never leave my mind now :)

12. lapis lazuli (steven universe)

water gem who wants you to leave. cynical as all heck, sensitive as all hell. is there such thing as a gem therapist? just asking. infp.

in a similar way to twyla, i vibe with lapis’ sarcasm and wit as well as her emotional side. it can be kind of addicting, isolating one’s self. anywho, me and my sister used to do this routine of yelling up to each other this certain dialogue between lapis and peridot when peri was leaving for something (in which lapis replied to everything she said with dry ‘yeah’s); i would always do lapis’ part. i do reply a lot with ‘okay’ or ‘yeah’ or ‘cool’ to things people tell me, as i never really know what to say.

13. brad meltzer (xavier riddle and the secret museum)

shy jewish butterfly kid who absolutely hates time travel. attracted to people who know how to socialize like a normal human being. infp(?).

okay okay so... combine everything from arnold and everything from fluttershy and that’s basically what brad is to me. a jewish socially anxious nerd who loves butterflies and drawing. badabing badaboom, there i am. that’s it.

and boom! all of the kins i can think of, of course not including comfort characters like will byers from stranger things or isabelle from animal crossing. if you have any kins to suggest to me, i would love it! thank you for taking your time to read this, friend! have a fantastic day :)

#melonposting #extreme melonposting #kin #kins #kinlist #i will not tag every character here for the love of god #13. 13 is the number of the kins #good night folks :pensive:

[sandriinehebert]

character sheet

basics:

full name: alessandra serafina lombardi

nickname(s): sandrine, allie, sandra, sissi, dee & sand

character archetype: the obsequious

age: 33

date of birth: september 20th, 1986

identity: cis female

nationality: canadian

sexual orientation: bisexual

religion: raised jewish in a catholic community, but is atheist

occupation: beautician, entrepreneure and owner of dolce vita beauty salon.

current residence: devinstone, ma

birthplace: montréal, qc, canada

financial level: middle

highest level of education: unfinished bachelor degree

illnesses & diseases: none

smokes: never

drinks: occasional

drugs: never

☇ physical characteristics:

faceclaim: lea michele

height: 5’3”

distinguishing features: a couple of tattoos, including a star, a moon, a snowman, a monarch butterfly, a snowflake and, recently, a maple leaf.

☇ psychological & personal attributes:

known languages: french, english and very little italian

mother tongue: french

pessimist or optimist: both

moral alignment: lawful good

jung type: esfj, the caregiver

enneagram type: a tie between the giver and the individualist

☇ personal relationships:

parents: christian lombardi & monica lombardi (née mariano)

siblings: one brother, adamo

birth order: youngest

significant other(s): none

children: none

☇ miscellaneous:

temperament: sanguine

element: earth

sorting house: hufflepuff

dominant hand: right

astrology: virgo

positive traits: + empathic, patient and caring negative traits: - perfectionist, restless, gossipy

this was legally stolen from @noemibau, thank youuuuu!

#biography. #(( the giver & the individualist being in a tie is iconic )) #(( i don't make the rules sandrine the lil bish makes them and she decided to be total opposites )) #(( no wonder why you're single girl ))

[yuncifang]

Lost and Found

Another Whumptober 2019 fill.

Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV)

Characters/pairing: Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane; malec is there if you squint; Jace Wayland, Raphael Santiago (mentioned)

Prompts: 4. Dehydration; Check @whumptober2019 for more!

Alec is marooned at sea after standing up to his captain and refusing to torture a captured pirate. He is dying of severe dehydration when the aforementioned pirate swoops back in to rescue him. So Alec is rescued by a handsome stranger, invited to join a crew of misfits and is also reunited with his not-so-dead brother. Raphael is mentioned like once, leaves an impression, but doesn’t make an appearance.

Fair warning, there is a whole page describing Alec think that he is dying of dehydration and starvation, but all in all it's as light-hearted as my other fill for Whumptober. Also, I have a lot of feelings about the bond that Alec and Jace share.

Raphael’s ship is called Munkar. Hodge’s ship is called Nuriel. Those are some of the angelic names mentioned on the SH fandom wiki-page. Munkar - in Islamic eschatology is one of the angels that test the faith of the dead in their graves and the English translation would be the Denied. Nuriel in Jewish mythology is the angel of hailstorms and translates as “fire of the Lord”. Think what you may of it :) Pirate ships in this AU have angelic names, because, well, they are all stollen from the Clave, ha!

Read on AO3

*

Alec was dying. He tried to hide on the lower desks first, but with each passing day, it was harder and harder for him to move around the ship. A huge ship. Staying on the upper deck allowed him to scan the horizon in hopes of seeing another vessel. Why was a pirate sailing a huge ship like that all alone? He had to think, baffled for a moment, his brain all clouded and slow because of days without food and water. They’ve captured a pirate. It was easy enough, Alec wasn’t even the one boarding the ship, he stood there and watched as two other soldiers escorted the pirate over to the Nuriel. According to Captain Starkweather, the man was a notorious criminal, who was wanted not only for piracy, but for witchcraft and heresy. He was, supposedly, part of Raphael Santiago’s crew, which sounded far-fetched, seeing how he was the only person on board of his ship. Alec didn’t recognise the man, which was also weird on itself, as he has spent endless hours pouring over whatever information was available on Santiago’s crew. The pirate put up a good fight, but did’t really stand a chance, what with him somehow manning the ship alone. The vessel wasn’t that big, but must have required more people to handle it. There was no one else on board. Alec watched the man pass him, face bloodied, the simple white shirt he was wearing ruined, ripped in several places and red with blood too. He was sporting an amused smirk though, as if the situation didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was shackled and tied to the main mast, looked them all over as if he owned the place and then locked eyes with Alec. Alec remembered feeling uneasy, looking at the man. He seemed Alec’s age and was probably rather handsome under all the blood and dirt. His eyes seemed to shine with something barely concealed, and he winked at Alec, as if they were sharing a secret, before turning to Captain Starkweather and promptly spitting out a venomous remark. Alec didn’t know why, but he knew then that that day was no ordinary hunt. The pirate seemed crazy. He aggravated the captain more and more, his disdain and contempt for the hunters obvious with his every word. The captain demanded to know his name, and the pirate readily refused. The captain demanded to know the whereabouts of Raphael Santiago, and the pirate laughed in his face. So Captain Starkweather ordered to torture the man. Alec’s world has gone to shit over a crazy pirate and his own demand for justice. He couldn’t stand there and watch them torture someone. There were procedures to follow, a code of conduct that the Clave designed specifically for apprehending such criminals. Alec refused to take part and demanded a fair trial. It was Captain Starkweather’s turn to laugh. The sun was shining, hot and merciless, the air around was dry, and there was no wind. For the first time in three years since he’s first set sails, the ocean was as calm as a sleeping child. He’d heard stories of course. The sea was never kind or forgiving, for it was not an entity, even if most sailors viewed it as one. People considered the pirate stories to be the scariest, talking about their viciousness and cruelty, calling them the danger that lurked in open waters, but he’s always known better. Pirates were people, and people could be bargained with, people could be fought and over-powered, people could be reasoned with. The sea was indifferent. He was dying, he knew that well enough. He hasn’t had anything to drink for the last five days. He hasn’t had anything to eat for even longer. The worst part was the knowledge that the crew that left him behind, would get to the nearest port and call him the casualty of sickness or, worse, a traitor, deserter, soldier-turned-pirate. There were too many of stories of that for people to doubt it. His family would never know the truth. If he had any strength left, he’d break something in fury. His sharp sister would suspect something. It would crush her, and she’d refuse to let it go until, eventually, it will destroy her poor heart. He was dying, but all he was scared of was the thought of his Isabelle going mad with grief or worse, try to find the truth and get hurt in the process. The news would no doubt make her world crumble. To lose another brother, and so soon after Jace... Alec was lying in the shadows over the highest deck, the one with the steering wheel, his eyes closed. He thought his ears were ringing, but logically he knew, it was the headache setting in. The crew, the pirate hunters as they were called, the soldiers of the Clave as they were known, abandoned him readily enough. His captain didn’t take well his refusal to torture a captured man. He didn’t take well him standing up for the poor bastard and demanding a fair trial. Captain- what was his name? Captain Starkweather, yes, he ordered to abandon the pirate vessel that they’ve seized, but not before anything functioning on board was destroyed. Captain Starkweather was a vicious bastard. Even if the wind had picked up, Alec wouldn’t be able to sail, cursed to drift and die a slow death. He closed his eyes trying to focus on his spiralling mind. His name was Alexander Lightwood. He was a soldier of the Clave. He wouldn’t die abandoned by his crew like some unwanted pet. He wouldn’t let them… It was getting harder to breathe. He was dizzy, and everything around him was hot and dry, and his skin seemed like paper, and he felt his mouth resemble a dried out fruit. He knew he was dying, even though he didn't really feel like it anymore. He was just tired. His muscles stopped actually aching the day before, and his stomach seemed to have settled with the absence of food. He was just so god damn tired. Surely, if he just rested for a bit, he'd be able to get up and scout the horizon one more time. He just needed to close his eyes. A lone bird was circling above him, and Alec thought, if the bastards had left him anything resembling a weapon, he’d have shot it down already, probably, only prolonging his inevitable death. He still would have fought to stay alive. Before sliding into the sweet embrace of the enclosing darkness, he also thought of his siblings. They'd fight too, tooth and nail, just like Jace fought his last day on duty. Just like Izzy fought every day proving wrong anyone who expected any less from her for being a lady. God, how he missed them both. He just needed to rest, and then, of course, he'd get up and he'd fight, and he'd survive. For them he'd do anything, really. Right after he rested...

*

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was the movement. The ship was moving steadily, the waves rocking it back and forth. There was a cold cloth over his head, and someone was humming lightly, the tune repetitive, one of those songs you’d hear stumbling in a tavern close to midnight when everyone was drunk and happy. Alec opened his eyes. It was still hard to breathe, but it was comparatively better. The sheets underneath him were smooth and cooling on the skin, and he didn’t feel like he was about to rip in half with the next movement. He tried to sit, but his body seemed all limp and ached all over, so he fell back with a weak helpless moan. The humming stopped. “You’re awake,” a voice announced, and then there was a man next to him, helping him up gently. He made sure Alec was sitting comfortably and handed him a wooden cup, the cloth was discarded carelessly. “Drink that, but slowly, mhm,” the man said not letting go of the cup in case Alec’d drop it. “There you go, you should be back on your feet in no time.” Alec gulped and promptly broke into a coughing fit. The man waited patiently and then gave him some more water. Finally, Alec managed to take a proper breath and look around. “Where am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse as if he’s eaten a bucket of sand, “Who are you?” “I’ll tell you,” the man promised, “but try to not freak out, hm?” Alec looked back at him apprehensively. He couldn’t do much, obviously, but the word choice on itself seemed suspicious enough. The man wasn’t dressed as a sailor. He looked more like one of the young lords that frequented salons and high-class dinners, but not just any lord, an eccentric one at best. The waistcoat over his undershirt had elaborate embroidery all over and the colour seemed most unusual, almost purple. His breeches were only a shade darker. And there was a bright red justaucorp draped over the back of his chair. Only people that dressed like that at sea were pirates. Their grand fuck-you to the upper-classes that enforced the clothing separation so much. “This vessel is known as the Munkar,” the man said, watching for his reaction. “It’s captained by-” “Raphael Santiago,” Alec said slowly. He knew of that ship alright. Raphael Santiago was a notorious pirate. Young and ruthless, and scary, or so people said. His crew was part of the armada that stormed Tortuga three years ago. He was one of the pirates behind Jace’s death. He was the one Starkweather was after. “You’ve gone so very pale, dear,” the man said carefully. “I assume, you’re familiar with the name.” Alec nodded weakly. His head was starting to hurt again. “Are you- You aren’t him though,” Alec said slowly, focusing on the man’s face. His features were sharp, skin slightly tanned, bright almost golden eyes contoured with black lines. His expression was careful, though, as if he was trying not to scare Alec off. Not like he could do much in his current state, but nonetheless. Alec thought he looked vaguely familiar, but he was certain he hasn’t seen any pictures of him before. “No,” the man said softly. “But I travel with Raphael often and as a favour to me he agreed to circle back and save you. And we were also looking for you before, so there.” “But I don’t know you,” Alec said. “And how did you even- there was no wind, how did you get close-” “Well,” the man cleared his throat, “all the legends are true, aren’t they? You’ve probably heard rumours of Raphael’s crew.” Alec nodded. Of course, he had. There were a great many things passed around about that crew. It was said that the notorious crew of the Munkar made a deal with the Devil and exchanged their souls for the wind to always play to their favour. It was said a witch was sailing with them, turning the tide whenever Santiago needed it, that there was no way the Munkar has escaped that many ordeals with not a scratch on it with no magical intervention. The man that they’ve captured was the one accused of it! It was said that captain Raphael Santiago wasn’t even human, that the seas themselves spurted him out, and that he couldn’t step on dry land because of it fearing horrible death. That last one was called a curse, and some believed Santiago also spread it onto his crew. “Some of them are true,” the man said, “we have our way around the water.” Alec laid back down slowly watching him, as he continued. “Your crew abandoned you when you tried to do the right thing. That’s no way to die.” “How do you know that?” “Don’t you recognise me?” the man chuckled and turned his face left and right as if that way Alec’d see him better. Alec squinted for a moment and then stared, eyes wide in shock. It couldn’t be- No wonder he didn’t recognise him. The man in front of him was dressed to the nines, all soft smiles and smooth voice. Last time Alec has seen him was a bit short of a week ago, and then he was strapped to a mast, clothes ripped, face bloodied, about to be tortured for whatever Captain Starkweather thought he could get out of him and grinning manically about it. “How did you-” “I have my ways,” the man said with another smile. It should have looked sinister, but Alec was right, the man wasn’t hard to look at. “But I was very impressed with your courage.” Alec huffed, “A lot of good that did me.” “Oh, believe me, it did!” the man took his hand gently, his excitement barely contained, “It is so very rare these days for a hunter to show even a modicum of mercy towards a pirate, but you didn’t just do that, you stood against your whole crew in order to protect, well, me! And you didn’t even know me!” “I still don’t, to be fair,” Alec said weakly. “I knew you’d make a fine addition to our crew,” the man ignored his jab. “We were looking so very hard for you, you’ll have to forgive my excitement. You’re everything I’ve hoped for and then some!” That made Alec eyeball him again, with suspicion this time. He thought he might have heard him wrong. “Sorry, did you just?” It was like the man was having two conversations with Alec at once, both out loud. “Ah,” the man exclaimed as if he just realised the sheer scale of Alec’s confusion, “right!” He turned to the door and snapped his fingers. Blue sparks flew out and floated right through the room, towards the corridor. Alec’s eyes bulged. “Your captain accusing me of witchcraft?” the man said innocently. “I’m a warlock. I’m one of the reasons the Munkar is so successful in her voyages!” “That’s… magical,” Alec said, as he followed the sparks that floated right through the wooden door. “Why, thank you, Alexander,” the man said, obviously rather pleased with himself. “I still don’t even know your name,” Alec said. It was hardly fair, because the way the man pronounced his name sounded borderline indecent, and Alec was not ready to explore that at the moment. Before his magical saviour had a chance to answer though, the door burst open letting in a dishevelled looking man with an almost manic expression on his face. “Magnus! What ha-” Alec thought he stopped breathing. The man was blond and heaving, and his clothes looked all dirty as if he was busy cleaning a canon or something before bursting in, there was stubble on his chin that would have made him almost unrecognizable if not for his bright, mismatched eyes. It was Jace. It couldn’t be, but it was. “Alec!” Alec was still staring, when Jace wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug, words pouring out of him in endless nonsense. How he couldn’t believe they’ve met again. How he’s missed Alec and Izzy. How he didn’t believe his eyes when Magnus brought him on board. “You’re alive,” Alec said, grasping at his dirtied shirt, hugging him back, “Jace, you’re alive.” His head seemed empty, his ears were ringing, but compared to the terror he has felt not two days ago faced with inevitable death, the joy seemed almost less bearable. He was breathing in a hastened gulps, and he didn’t think he’d ever let go. He didn’t think it was possible. Jace was alive. Alec didn’t care how; he didn’t even care if it was all a magic trick. The pure relief made him feel as if he was about to explode into a million pieces, too full to contain it. “Man, are you crying?” Jace asked, finally, looking into his face, his own eyes dump. “You look exactly the same!” “Starved and close to death?” Alec chuckled, whipping at his eyes. “God, I can’t believe you’re here.” Then he realised something else. “And you’re a pirate now,” he said slowly. Jace nodded enthusiastically, completely oblivious to Alec’s sudden discomfort. “Yeah, well, look at you! A soldier of the Clave! Mom must be very proud of you, Alec.” Alec scoffed despite himself. “Lots of good that did me,” he muttered. “So, the pirate thing?” “Man, I’ve been trying to track you down for ages now!” Jace kept patting his shoulders as if he was worried Alec was doing to dissolve into thin air the second he let go. “Raphael is a dick, but he saved my life that day on Tortuga.” Magnus coughed and muttered, “That’s Captain Santiago, Chase.” Jace waved him off, “Yeah, Captain Santiago is a dick,” he backtracked, “but he saved me. By the time I came to, we were half way across the world! Magnus here patched me up, and well- Let’s say there were a lot of reasons for me to stick around.” “Why didn’t you contact us? We thought you were killed that day,” Alec said. Mostly he was concerned Isabelle was going to murder their brother for real when she’d find out. “I couldn’t!” Jace’s expression fell. “I would have died that day, and it wasn’t a pirate that struck the blow.” Magnus – who, apparently, wasn’t just magical and nicely dressed, but had an unusual name to go with it – cleared his throat, making both men look up. “As heart-warming as I find that reunion,” he said, and his wide smile was bright evidence of that, “Alexander here should get some rest before Raphael decides to make an appearance.” Jace groaned. “You’re gonna hate that guy,” he promised. “How dare you,” Magnus muttered, he was still smiling though. “He did take Alexander on board!” “Only because you asked him,” Jace said surly. “Raphael would start a fucking war if you hinted at one.” He rolled his eyes for good measure. Magnus waved him off. “Nonsense,” he snapped his fingers, and another cup floated into his hands, “Raphael knows better than that. Here, drink this, Alexander.” He handed the cup over, and Alec took it absent-mindedly, too fascinated with the exchange. Jace seemed completely at ease with both Magnus and his magic. Last time they spoke, Jace claimed he’d hunt down the Dumah, which was another notorious pirate ship, and re-claim her for the Clave, and now here he was, obviously, distracted from some kind of work, talking to a pirate with the same brashness and cockiness that he had three years ago. They bickered, while Alec drank whatever was in the cup. It tasted like tea, but immediately he felt an urge to lay down and close his eyes. “One day Raphael will snap at you for your insubordination.” “He can bite me,” Jace grinned. “I’m too precious for this crew!” “That can be arranged,” Magnus muttered with an eye-roll. Then he noticed Alec’s sleepy blinking and shooed at Jace. “Time to let Alexander sleep, Chase.” “Not my name,” Jace scoffed as if it was some kind of an old joke, then turned to Alec and gave him another hug. “I’ll come later and we’ll talk, alright, buddy? You should listen to your doctor and rest more.” Alec nodded, his eyelids heavy already. Jace left, leaving Magnus, who busied himself with adjusting Alec’s blanket. “You’re very kind,” Alec mumbled and sighed. “That’s nice.” He didn’t realise it before the tea, but he was exhausted. The emotional wreck that was dropped onto him in a matter of several days was a bit too much even for someone trained to endure from his very childhood. Magnus smiled at him yet again. He had a very nice smile, when there was no blood smeared across his face. “The easiest thing in the world, Alexander,” he seemed to develop a fascination with Alec’s name. Alec didn’t really mind. “Not true,” he countered, his eyes already closed. “The world is a cruel place.” “Oh,” Magnus petted his hair, which Alec found rather nice too, “cruel it may be, but it is also whatever we make of it, isn’t that right? You’ve found your brother today.” “More like,” Alec mumbled, “he found me. And you. You found me.” “That’s right,” Magnus said softly. “I do hope you’d stay with us. Not that we can keep you, but Jace is here, isn’t he? Besides, the Clave’ve probably already branded you a traitor. Wouldn’t you like to restore your good name?” There was no answer, so he looked down to find Alec quick asleep. Magnus huffed softly, still stroking Alec’s hair. He couldn’t wait for all the adventures this promised to bring along.

*

#Whumptober2019 #day 11 #no. 4 #dehydration #pirate au #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #jace wayland #raphael santiago #whump prompts #fanfiction #ao3 #au that no one asked for #Shadowhunters

[bluboothalassophile]

Slaves of Rome

Jason stood there, his chest heaving, the blood sticky as it dried on his sweat soaked skin as his eyes flicked up to the stadium where he saw him. The green knowing eyes stared at him as the crowd roared around him as the Emperor stared down at him. The heat was merciless, the sand was burning hot beneath his feet, and the weapon rested heavily in his hand. The Emperor lifted his hand then, his thumb neutral which had the crowd silencing as everyone held a bated breath.

The thumb lifted upwards and the crowd roared, he saw her smile beside the Egyptian and the Emperor as he looked down at his feet before he was herded towards the exit of the arena. The weapon fell into the loose sand as he walked into the halls.

His life had not always been this.

He had once been respected, a member of one of the most respected families in Jerusalem. His father a wealthy merchant who’s trade empire had spanned around Mare Nostrum, with rich trade with the Egyptians and Romans. His father’s wives, one, Talia, was an Egyptian noble, the other was a freed slave from Hispania, Selina. He had many siblings, Richard, Timothy, Cass, Duke, Damian, Athanasia, Helena, Thomas, and Bruce, and it was because of them he had come here.

Ten years ago he had played in the fields with his younger siblings, an accident had lead to the death of a Roman General before the eyes of his own son and son’s family. The Roman’s had merely witnessed his family in the field near the horses, they had not witnessed the act which had lead to the horse trampling the general. Damian's stone had missed it’s mark, startling the stallion when it hit the beast in the rump, and the herd followed the stallion. When the Romans had come, as the eldest man in the house at the time, Jason had taken the fall. Kal-El had come for his head, instead, at the threat of a Jewish revolt upon his death, he was sentenced to the hard labor of being a galley slave. That hadn’t killed him as Kal had hoped, so five years ago Kal-El had put Jason in the arena, and thus far, Jason was undefeated and now no death outside the arena would be permitted because his family still held massive power.

Now he was a gladiator, the best in Rome.

His eyes flicked around at the other slaves here. A Jewish Gladiator, the best in Rome, undefeated.

There was a ruckus which had him looking over as an ivory pale woman broke the ranks of the chains, her fury had her grabbing a knife as she slashed a guard’s throat, spinning around to use the body as a shield as she propped herself up under the deadman’s weight when the arrows were shot, the other slaves dove out of the way as she dropped the body, rolled, snarled. Her eyes were pale, icy blue as he threw her dagger and ran. Jason stepped back, stuck his foot out, catching foot, which had her sprawling into the hard dirt of the hall. She was on her back before he anticipated as she slammed her knee into his groin, gasping for breath he doubled over as stars exploded before his eyes. She caught his chin with her finger, tilting his head back, he tried to breathe, and she smiled before her elbow slammed into his cheek which had him crashing into the ground as the world decided to waver. He watched her flee, her black braids flying behind her as the guards chased after her.

That Celt! He groaned as he rolled onto his back, pushing himself up onto the wall.

~~~*~*~*~~~

She ran, grabbing the corner as she vaulted herself upwards, slamming her knee into one guard as she blocked another hit, spinning low as she hooked his knees then slammed another elbow into the guard. She gasped when she felt a slice on her side which had her staggering back, feeling blood seep from her wound then as she glared at the guard. The guard spun his sword in a large arch, and she held up her arms when something hit her knees and slammed her head into the wall causing her world to black out.

~~~*~*~*~~~

He glared at her as she was tossed onto floor, her wound crudely dressed, and her black hair was spilling over everywhere, the odd braids tangled about her face. Jason stared at the Celt.

“Fucking Celt,” a guard muttered. “Keeps trying to escape.”

Jason looked over at the woman who lay there limply.

“That was not very smart,” he said in latin. She tilted her head back a bit, glared at him dangerously then.

“Not even the gods could contain me,” she replied in slow, halted latin.

“You’re a Celt,” he said as he shifted to lean on the bars between them.

“I am what I am,” she replied tiredly.

He nodded then slowly reached over, her hand caught his wrist as her face contorted in an animalistic wildness. “Let me see that,” he ordered.

“Back off,” she growled.

“No, get up, get over here,” he ordered. Catching her wrist he yanked her to the bars, she grunted in pain then tried to fight him until he jabbed the wound which had her moaning as she curled in on her side.

“I’ve never seen a fighter like you,” he said. “Where are you from?”

“Nowhere,” she snarled.

“Jason,” he offered his name to her, and she looked up at him with suspicious eyes. “I’m a slave, Celt,” he smiled. “Jewish.”

“People of one God,” she said.

“Yes, Children of God,” he corrected.

“Raven,” she muttered as he pulled his smuggled flask of alcohol to start cleaning her wound. It was clean, she growled lowly as she muttered in a language he had never heard before. She was beautiful, he supposed, now that she wasn’t trying to kill him.

Curly black hair, blue eyes, ivory colored skin, and a slight figure with thick hips, thighs and curvy calves. She was strong, not like a woman from his home or the Greek princess who he serviced. This woman was not muscled from training or show. Everything about this Celt was carefully depicting a wild woman who survived; he stared at the other scars and the ink marring her skin in unRoman appearance. There was history here, history of people he didn’t know, but the intricate design was carefully thought out, beautifully mapped, and intriguing. She was unlike any Celt he had seen in the arena; most of them being brightly colored with sunny, silver, or bloody red hair.

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because no one should suffer of cruelty,” he said.

“I am cruel,” she smiled weakly.

He said nothing.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one-shot #gladiator au #jason todd #raven #jayrae #redrae #raex

[libralita]

Week of Bookblr - Top 5 Best Books of 2018

So, while I did read some really bad books there were also some really great books this year. I actually narrowed my list down to the top five books that I thought were really great. So without further ado let’s get into my top 5 books of 2018

#5 Scythe by Neal Shusterman

Shusterman always has these great premises and this book is no exception. In this world humanity has basically cured death. The only threat is overpopulation so you have these people called Scythes who’s job it is to maintain the population. Shusterman some how figured out my greatest irrational fear is immortality so that’s terrifying. Along with a creepy AI, some really great characters, and an appropriately asshole-ish villain this book deserves the number five spot. Rest in peace Shawn Dobson.

#4 Fullmetal Alchemist Vol. 8 by Hiromu Arakawa:

Words cannot describe how much I love Fullmetal Alchemist the series. It probably the closest thing to a perfect series. I absolutely adored it and my favorite volume of this series was the penultimate Volume 8 (the omnibus version). First of all the van Hohenheim and Father stuff was amazing. I love seeing Mustang’s crew and the Briggs troops take over the city. It is so cool how clever these characters are. Mustang going absolutely nuts with Envy and that talk was so beautiful. Then when Mustang apologizes to Riza, I just teared up. It had my second favorite fight scene with Greed and Wrath. So awesome to see Greed and Ling work together. But it also had the best fight scene in the entire series which is when the Armstrong siblings and Curtis couple fight against Sloth. I did not know I wanted to see these four characters fight together but it was the most epic thing I have ever seen. I loved it so much. It was bad ass and powerful and SO AMAZING! I loved it.

#3 The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick:

I read and listened to this on audiobook and it was unbelievable. It was a mixture of the wonderful writing and the sound design that made this story come to life. Selznick was a new to me author and I so happy that I found his books. This one especially was whimsical and charming. It had beautiful artwork. The characters felt so real and it was so heartwarming. This is something that you need to read when you’re feeling down and need to put a smile on your face. It’s a classic in the making.

#2 Skyward by Brandon Sanderson

Yeah, yeah I have to put Brandon Sanderson on this list. I think the real shocker is that he isn’t number one on this list. Nothing this year really felt like it deserved the number one spot. Legion and White Sand Vol. 2 were both five star stories but I think Skyward is the best that he published this year.

The reason that this book does deserve to be on this list is the characters, especially Spensa. If you saw my Top 5 Worst of the year list you’ll see that I hate overly aggressive main characters. When I first read this book, I had the kneejerk reaction to hate Spensa. She was aggressive and violent. However, I actually really liked Spensa. I cannot believe it. Brandon Sanderson took the trope that I hate the most and made it something I liked. I’ve talked with other people who HATE this trope as well and they were shocked at how well Spensa’s character was handled.

I think there are three reasons why Spensa works. First is that she is given a logical reason for acting this way. First when she’s young it’s more child-like and then as she gets older it’s because she’s an outcast in this society for what her father did. Second, it’s a lot of talk. She generally never really physically hurts anyone. She’s never really mean. There’s no mean-spirited-ness to her. Third, and this is the most important thing: she is not automatically great at flying. Spensa loves flying and wants to do it more than anything in this world. But she is not automatically amazing at it. She has to work her butt off to become great. Which not only ties into the theme of meritocracy but also shows a character having to work for things.

I also really loved most of the side characters. Jorgen was a tad bland for me, I hope that we get to see a little more of him, maybe even add his own POV chapters. I was really sad when someone either left flight school or died (and man do a lot of characters die in this). The story is portrayed very realistically to how you’d think flight school would work. It also gave Spensa a chance to grow and realize how dangerous this path could be. M-Bot is obviously the best character. He funny, sarcastic and an obvious self-insert.

#1 The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I am so mad at myself for waiting so long to read this absolutely brilliant book. This book is about a girl living in Nazi Germany where her adoptive family hides a Jewish man in their basement. I know, so uplifting! This story is absolutely heartbreaking (no surprise there). Towards the end I was just crying nonstop at everything that happened.

First of all Zusak really humanizes the Germans, even those who belong to the Nazi party. He doesn’t make them all evil and cruel. All of these characters are human beings. These are people who are just trying to survive and you really feel for all of them. This plays into the Death being the narrator. Death does not discriminate and thus he can have an objective point of view when it comes to what is going on. He is so alien yet relatable. Despite being Death he brings some light heartedness to this story. Zusak pulls no punches. When Liesels parents die it is the saddest thing imaginable. I am tearing up right now as I write this. Zusak made me feel like I too had lost someone. It is so heartbreaking. I am glad that Max had lived and found Liesel. It was the most beautiful thing.

This book is truly a classic. A book that will never leave me and that why it deserves the number one spot.

#2018 #Top 5 Best #Week of Bookblr #WoB #Bookblr #Scythe #Arc of a Scythe #Neal Shusterman #Fullmetal Alchemist #Hiromu Arakawa #The Invention of Hugo Cabret #Brian Selznick #skyward #Brandon Sanderson #The Book Thief #Markus Zusak

[ecofinisher]

Day 7: Gift (Julerose)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256989/chapters/40796525

@mlrarepairmonth

Day 7: Gift

Ship: Juleka Couffaine and Rose Lavillant

Juleka Couffaine was together with her older brother in the art classroom sanding together a guitar-shaped wood on its edges with an abrasive paper.

“Later we take number 100 to sand it more subtle and after we finish that step we can go over to paint the frame,” The raven-haired boy told the shorter girl, that nodded at his explanation.

On a table next to them sat a redheaded boy drawing on a comic book, then he got up and walked beside the two siblings turning his head at the wood and stopped.

“That’s cool” Complimented the redhead earning a nod from the Couffaines.

“Thanks, Nathaniel,” Said Luka. “I’m helping Juleka with a gift for Rose to Christmas”

“Great”

“Are you going to give your girlfriend something special?” Asked the blue tipped boy.

“I do it at home, cause she often meets me up here after the acting class with Mr. Hapréle. “ Nathaniel said. “To avoid her seeing my gift for her I decided to keep it at home and work on it there”

“Great, she will love it for sure”

“I hope so”

“Don’t worry Nathaniel, Lila has loved everything you have ever offered her,” The pink-haired girl said removing the mask of her face. “Even if it's not the best thing you can offer her a girl from a higher social ranking. Most of your things you have gifted here came from your heart, not from the supermarket”

“You’re right” Agreed Nathaniel.

“You’re even giving someone presents, the fact you’re not even Christian”

“Aren’t you celebrating Hanukkah right now?” Asked Juleka earning a head shake of the redhead.

“It was a week ago” Responded Nathaniel. “It’s over now”

“Oh okay”

“She’s going to like it, my friend, 95% of the presents, that was made by the person itself are most likely to be loved”

“Thank you Alix,” Nathaniel said with a smile while Alix mirrored him.

“Could you hand me the orange spray now that you’re there by Luka?” Questioned the short girl, earning a nod from the Jewish boy that took the can and threw it at Alix, who successfully caught it.

“So uhm what colors do you want to paint the guitar?” Asked the tall boy looking at his sister.

The last day of school before the winter holidays a few students had entered the classroom of Miss Bustier and hang around until the lessons would start.

Next student to get in was the class’ joker Kim Chien Le who carried a present wrapped in a green wrapping paper. He went to his seat and placed the box on the left side of the seat, where his desk mate and Best Friend Max Kanté would seat.

“I hope he likes it”

“What did you buy him Kim?” Asked Ivan, who sat on the second last row inside the classroom.

“A heng balance lamp” Responded the Vietnamese boy. “You gotta see it, it’s amazing”

The next students walking in were Nathaniel, Nino and Adrien. Nathaniel carried by himself a present and behind him, Adrien and Nino both were carrying a present too and Nino sat down on the first row and placed it on the table behind him, where the girls Alya and Marinette do seat. Adrien placed the slender and long gift on the table next to Ivan’s then waved at the tall boy.

“Hey what did you get Mylene for Christmas?” Asked the blonde smiling at the raven-haired boy.

“I bought her a necklace from a fairtrade label I found down at the third arrondissement”

“Really, that sounds amazing” Adrien said and passing by Nathaniel, who just walked up the steps to his place and put the gift down, then shove it to the other side of the table, where the girlfriend her spot would be and he took his seat and packed out the stuff of his messenger bag.

At the entrance appeared Juleka’s brother Luka glancing into the classroom, then he sneaked from the entrance across the room to the windows and walked the steps up to the last row and placed the gift on the table, where his younger sister and her best friend would seat.

“Hey bro, what is inside there a vacuum cleaner?” Asked Kim jokingly.

“Yes dude” Responded Luka chuckling. “I gotta go I have chemistry with Mrs. Mendeleiev,” Luka said waving at the Asian boy and walked the stairs down at the entrance encountering Marinette together with Alya entering into the room.

“Hey Luka” Greeted Marinette and Alya in a chorus.

“Hey I’ve gotta go I got chemistry at Mrs. Mendeleiev and you know how she is when we’re late”

“Sure see you later,” Marinette said pecking him on his cheeks, then he left the classroom running. Alya smiled as the tall boy had left then saw Nino pointing at her table where Nino’s gift was and she walked up at him to grab the gift.

“Is that for me?” Asked the tan-skinned girl earning a nod from the by with the red cap. Alya ripped the paper off the box to see she had there a shoe box of the sneakers Nino is wearing.

“My feet aren’t that big Nino” Alya complained opening the box, then she saw lots of different small presents in it. “Nino”

“There were so many suggestions when I researched the web and I thought about giving you a bit more”

“This is…..I don’t know, what I should say?” Asked Alya looking at him.

“A simple thank you or a hug I don’t know” Nino suggested as Alya opened the first gift, that was a small voice recorder”

“This must have cost a fortune, you know this is expensive, why did you do that?”

“Don’t worry Alya, that’s the only thing that according to you looks expensive. The others were less expensive”

“You’re the best Nino,” Alya said embracing him afterward she kissed him on the lips and sat down next to him to open the next gifts.

A short time later Kagami Tsurugi entered along with Lila Rossi and behind them came Juleka together with Rose Lavillant all making their way back to the back of the classroom.

“Look there’s a gift on our table” Rose announced pointing at her and Juleka’s table. “That must be for you”

“Who knows” Responded Juleka following the girl to the back of the classroom. Rose sat down on the bench along with the raven-haired girl and watched on the other side of the classroom, where Lila and Kagami had unwrapped their gifts and showed it to each other. Kagami held on her hand a Chat Noir-like stab and showed it to Lila, then the brunette pressed on a small button on it, causing it to extend and hit Nathaniel on the forehead shrieking him, causing the two girls to laugh.

“It’s for you Rose, look,” Juleka said pointing at the side of the wrapping paper, that had on it written Rose’s full name.

“But I don’t play guitar,” Rose said opening the present and wide her eyes in surprise as the present was revealed to be something else.

“Wow, did you do this all by yourself?” Asked Rose picking up the guitar-shaped picture frame looking all around it and on the back there was a short sentence for the girl. “You are the best friend of all time”

“Luka helped me a bit with the sawing and how to sand it correctly. Do you like it?”

“Of course I did,” Rose said hugging the girl. “You’re the best”

“I’m happy you liked it Rose,” Juleka said while the blonde looked around the classroom as everyone had opened their gifts.

“All are happy for the gifts they have gotten, that’s so amazing” Rose said stopping to move her head as she had the last two tables next to them in view and saw Adrien stopping by Kagami and Lila, then Kagami had stood up and taken from a paper bag the present out handing it to him, which he accepted with a smile. Adrien placed the gift on the seat of Kagami, then watched the girl smirking at him and holding the Chat Noir baton towards him as she was about to challenge him for a fencing match. Adrien smirked and grabbed the baton and pulled her into his arms to kiss her, which she gladly accepted and leaned a bit closer to him.

“Can you pass later by my home?” Asked Rose. “I forgot my gift for you there”

“Sure” Responded the tall girl, then all students sat down on their places for Miss Bustier to start their lessons.

#julerose #roseka #miraculous #ml rarepair #miraculous rarepair month #adrigami #lukanette #tomatofox #but minor #fanfic #oneshot

[wallpapernifty]

Ten Fantastic Vacation Ideas For February Birth Flower Tattoo | February Birth Flower Tattoo

In June of 1940, as war swept above Europe, bags of Red Army troops accustomed at the eastern apprenticed of Lithuania, authoritative acceptable on a abstruse alliance with Germany to admeasure up the continent. Bounded leaders were accustomed an ultimatum: Agree to actual addition by the Soviet Union, or face a continued and blood-soaked invasion. Overmatched, the government capitulated, and aural canicule the Soviets had bedeviled ascendancy of the country. In Kaunas, the home of the above president, Red Army tanks chock-full the streets; in Vilnius, dissenters were bolter bottomward and arrested or killed.

In August, in a wood-framed abode in northeastern Lithuania, a adolescent Jewish biographer alleged Matilda Olkin apart her annual and began to write:

I see—crowds falling to their knees,I hear—nights abounding with crying.I biking through the worldAnd I dream this aberrant dream.

The poem, anecdotic the crusade of an “exhausted” bodies above a hellscape of “burning sands,” was a abandonment for Olkin, afresh aloof 18. Slight and brown-haired, with irised bark and wide-set amber eyes, Olkin had developed up in the agriculture apple of Panemunelis, in affairs she recalled as idyllic. Her father, Noah Olkin, ran the boondocks pharmacy; her mother, Asna, backward home with Matilda and her three siblings—an earlier brother alleged Ilya, and two little sisters, Mika and Grunia.

Like abundant of the country, Panemunelis and the adjacent burghal of Rokiskis were home to ample populations of Jews, who admired advisedly and captivated important borough positions. Every Sunday, Noah Olkin alone in on Juozapas Matelionis, the apple priest, to altercate abstract and assize over tea. Matilda and her two adolescent sisters

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