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[uxini]

Do We Think Jimmy Solidarity Will Marry Someone In the Next Life Series?

The pattern holds true, with seasons 1, 3, & 5 all containing marriages/partnerships (Scott, Tango, and Martyn, respectively)

And seasons 2 & 4 being gangs (The Southlands and The Bad Boys)

So the big question here is, Does Real Life count as Season 6 or is it 5.5?

Because he joined a gang again, so the pattern seems to be repeating. In which case it would be Season 7 next time and he's slated for marriage again. Or is the pattern separate from the series odd-even lineup.

EDIT: apologies to the one person who had already voted, i remade the poll because i forgot to make it a week long

FOLLOW UP QUESTION (Who?)

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You're questioning whether or not it's a genocide when hospitals are being targeted? Civilians? Aid trucks?! Food kitchens?! Are you serious? The little girl, Hind Rajab, the paramedics who went to save her, all were cleared by Israel then shot dead. The flour massacres. Please be serious. They even killed a camel delivering aid. Which is... not new. Not new.

Libraries and all colleges and universities are being bombed. These are attempts to erase a culture and hold back a people. Doctors killed in their homes. Palestinians in hospitals tortured and buried alive, their bodies found zip-tied, staff still in scrubs. You seriously still believe this isn't a genocide?!

(Unfortunately, no independent investigation is being done, so it's just going to be Israel investigating itself and clearing its own name, time and time again...)

Palestinians get told to travel "safe passages," then bombed by Israel.

It's a genocide. It's not anti-semitic to acknowledge this is a genocide.

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tango is the only one of jimmys teammates to ever come in treating him as an equal and it shows

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I feel like we as a community need to create a podcast called "Tragic, Toxic, Traffic" where each episode we pick an alliance in the life series and debate on whether it's tragic or toxic

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bard scar singing a little love song at the crastle tavern and making direct eye contact with warlock grian

i think i just got murdered by my own thought what the fuck

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Live laugh love the neighbourhood 🫶

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My piece for the @hermitszine Gem edition !!

There were so many fantastic artists, writers and organisers involved in the project and it turned out AMAZING! You can check it out here! as a free to download pdf :]

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my part for a MAP im part of :}

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gem and joel are both "primarily a nice peaceful builder but with a shockingly competitive streak and formiddable pvp skills" but their energy with it is so very different

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Dante, do you like that slow burn?

Summery:

Ren and martyn are the final two, all their allies and enemies are dead. And on the black heart alter, ren and martyn stand, axe and sword in hand.

Martyns entire life revoles around his king, he knows ren better than he knows himself. And he knows ren isn't made for spring. And well. Martyn will always follow were his king goes.

TW!! MAIN CHARACTER DEATH, HURT NO COMFORT, VIOLENCE!!

Beta read and edited!!

(This is for day one of treebark week, prompt flower/frost!!)

The air is turning warm finally in dogwarts, and the two who rule over it stand on th black heart altar. The king and his hand. Winter has finally passed, and ice and snow are melting away to reveal green grass. The trees are decorated in blossoms, and birds are singing happily. The air tastes like pollen in ren and martyn’s mouths.

Red winter has passed. And spring has come.

And yet there is still red decorating the ground. Poppies burst from the ground, and the tops of beetroots. Red winter has passed and yet a cardinal sits proudly in the tree overhead. Tilting its head as it gazes at the two. Wonder in its sound.

Spring is here, and the light and growth are returning to dogwarts in every way they possibly can.

And there are only two left. Two stand on the ruined earth. They won. It’s, well, it’s almost over. They have almost done it. Soon, there will be nothing but whispers of their lives in these abandoned walls. Ren's ears are low, his sunglasses discarded on the ground, tail between his legs. His hair is matted, and his crown long since gone. His cape curled up at his feet, and Martyn wants to weep. His classic green hoodie is stained brown, red having soaked in. The time is pink now, it’s green, it’s beautiful and alive, life takes over the corpses of their enemies. And yet here two dead men walking are. They aren't made for the gentle spring.

They made the winter with their bare hands, it’s far too late for them to bloom into spring.

Martyn can feel his torn jean shorts against his legs. His sandals painfully digging into his feet, the red winter axe in his hand held tight. He can feel the shaking of despair traveling up his spine. It leaves him feeling breathless and his knee’s shaking.

No matter how gentle the air is, he can't seem to breathe right. He feels sick to his stomach.

Death game. It’s in the name. Everyone dies. Everyone kills each other. Teams are never meant to last here. No. They rot, and fall away like old wood. Lasting for the moment, but after a while, after rain, it always rots away, it always opens up to a hole.

Death game.

They have to kill each other. After all this time they have to tear their weapons through beautiful, loved skin. Skin they grew to worship. Kisses whispered prayers late at night during the beginning of the end. The skin of those they love so deeply. The skin they cared for in the deepest parts of their souls, the skin they both vowed to try to keep safe from harm.

The ax falls from martyn’s hand, and he lets out an ugly sob, back shaking as he loses even more breath in his air from his lungs, he brings the balls of his hands to his eyes each, voice raw as tears start to run down his face, slowly he hears the sound of ren dropping his own weapon, and it’s slow, hesitant even, before ren is running, desperate to get to martyn.

Steps once slow, now quick and rushed as there is no longer any space between them, ren clawing, latching onto martyn, claw like nails digging into clothing, and almost skin as he tugs martyn to his chest. His own breathing is shaky. And his own tears coming to his eyes, there is no space between them to even breathe as he holds martyn like his life depends on it.

If anything Ren is safer away from martyn, but at this point, they don't even care.

“Gods- i- fuck ren, i dont want to, i dont want to do this..!!'' Martyn's voice is a wet scream near the end as he curls into the rough and worn fabric, tears falling like a waterfall, soaking into ren clothing. Rens head settles on top of martyns own, and the king shakes and hiccups, his own tears falling into martyn’s hair, it’s almost nice to know that ren is feeling the same way martyn is right now, just a little bit of reassurance, a “maybe he loves me too, maybe it was true.” but Martyn knows it was. Martyn knows how honest Ren is, and he could not have faked that long, looked into Martyn's eyes, and lied for that long. He knows Ren loved him. And he loves Ren the same. Of course he does. How could he not?

He loves Ren with everything he is. He loves Ren with everything in his soul. He has given his life to ren, every single life. He has listened to every single command ren has ever dished out. He has given everything to ren, loved ren like how someone would love a prayer. It’s all their wishes, dreams, deepest fears. It’s everything they are, is only a few words. Or in this case, one man.

“I don't want to either..”

The silly accent is dropped of ren shivers against martyn, hand tangling into his hair as he holds on like his life depends on it. Like it's his entire life on the line. And he cries. Ren lets out a deep sob, and he cries. Full of love for martyn, love for the home they built. And hate, hate for the situation and how he cant do anything to change their fate.

He can't fix anything, this is the end after all.

Martyn tilts his head up just barely, looking at Ren with tear filled eyes. And he makes a decision as he looks at ren. He makes a decision he could never take back.

He meets Ren's eyes, and for one final moment, one moment of love, he whispers the words he’s meant for ages, in reality, it has only been maybe 8 weeks, but they mean so much more than he’s willing to admit. And he kisses ren.

His king's lips are chapped and scratches against his painfully, but he doesn't so much as care about how it hurts, no, he focuses on the way Ren sobs into his lips. How his grip tightens on martyn. How everything feels like it’s crashing in. He lets himself enjoy it, just for a moment, a moment of peace, of happiness. A moment of love in the end.

Martyn couldn't tell you how long they spent like that, desperate for every moment they can get, holding onto each other lips pressed against each other, breath stolen in these moment, and tears shed, they could have spent hours like that for all they knew, they could have spent years holding each other and it wouldn't have made any difference to them. Cuz in the end they still pull away, they still separate, and they still know what has to happen. There is no other option, no other choice, no other way out.

And so, they get into fighting stances on either side of the altar, they leave the sentimental weapons on the side, and they weep oh so openly. As they prepare to fight, to kill each other in cold blood on the altar that means oh so much to them, they raise their fists, getting ready, a sob racks through ren, he leaves his sunglasses off, and red eyes hold onto red eyes, as they wish, and pray this wasn't the way it ends.

The first hit is thrown by Martyn, because he knows Ren won't take it, he knows Ren won't throw it, so he does. Martyn hears his fist connect with Ren's face, he doesn't see exactly where, but he can feel it through his entire arm.

Like a racing fire up his body, the bloodlust of being red starts to cloud his mind. He feels the fog fill his mind. But he knows he won't win. He knows it. And so he lets Ren take the next, he gives the act of missing as Ren takes another. Martyn lets it happen, because he’s just the king's hand, his role is to give everything to his king, his lord. It’s his job to let Ren take swing, after swing. It’s his job to fall to his knees, and even further as Ren doesn't stop. The redness in his eyes near glowing as he throws hit, after hit.

Martyns face isn't right, and the humid air leaves him feeling sticky. Ren does not relent, even as martyn face turns into some shape it was not supposed to be before, as it no longer looks like martyn, it doesn't even look human to some degree, no, he can't see anymore. Martyn can't see, and he isn't able to talk right, but try as he might, he whispers the words, over, and over, and over again. Broken prayers, to the god that is harming him, in a voice that it can't even hear. Broken and sorrowful declarations to the man he deems his god. To the man he devoted every whim of his life to.

Declarations of love. Of home. Of everything he can say. But Ren will never hear them, as Martyn's voice is drowned out by the blood that fills his mouth. His world is spinning, and he promises that it’s all rens, but all ren can hear is painful gurgling. All Ren is able to feel is shame. All that is there, is martyns bloodied body on the ground below him.

All that remains is a man made god, sobbing at his lover's feet. All that remains is a body that drifts off into dust in the wind. And a man with bloodied fists crying over a pool of red. Whispering his own prayers, and sorrows, and his own declarations of how if the gods aren't cruel, then maybe they will get another shot at this, another life time together, another maybe, and another please, and another im sorry. And everything he can give to the space that once hosted martyn. Another i love you, maybe he deserves this. To lose a lover he held so close, maybe he did something, in some other life, to be the sole survivor in such a painful way.

Ren stumbles over his feet, reaching, begging his arms to grab onto the sword. Praying that as he thrusts the blade into his chest, that him and martyn can be somewhere else, at another time. Maybe they could have lived in a small cottage on the hill, maybe their story doesn't always end in red and death, maybe they mold themselves for spring.

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I spent way to much time on this but I’m proud to be the cause of it all

i do swear!!!!! sometimes!!!!!!!!

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Here's the first piece I did for the Geminitay zine over at @hermitszine!

I had to do one of Gem's iconic builds and her dragons, it's not Season 1 of empires smp with them!

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Here's the second part I did for the Geminitay zine over at @hermitszine!

I had to give Red Gem a deeper corrupted look, she needs to look slay when she slays.

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bard scar singing a little love song at the crastle tavern and making direct eye contact with warlock grian

i think i just got murdered by my own thought what the fuck

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ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

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Broke: Lizzie died first because the Canary Curse was transferred to her via Seablings. (Boring) (Cop Out) (Implies women cannot be cringefail enough on their own merit)

Woke: Lizzie spent the entire season being ignored and forgotten to the extent that the universe itself forgot about her and let her die before the canary simply because it didn’t care (tragic!) (interesting!) (makes me want to gnaw on the walls!)