#🗡️ : soldier

[thenothlng]

where did you guys get those. guys

up-close shot cause i draw everything so fucking big or whateva

everyone say i love you beatriz and i love you vincent

[natequarter]

"[in 1547] memories of 1483 were all too vivid" well it doesn't help that he's called edward and you gave power to his fucking uncle

[sapphire-dagger]

By @icarus-lizard btw !

[sunflowersunite]

:')

A Gentle Cradle of the Night

Silver twists from the moon,

And drapes the night in its silken folds,

He knows she'll be coming home soon,

And standing in the snow, a promise he holds.

She glides down to the forest floor,

Radiates a warmth that seeps into his heart,

He'd promised they'd stay together for evermore,

United for eternity and never to part.

Their promise unravels as they sway in the night,

He reads her eyes and they hold a tale,

A tale of sorrows and love and delight,

And they dance in the snow as his feet leave a trail.

In small glowing steps she walks upon the air,

She giggles and smiles as he drinks it all in,

Her presence, her light, a sight so rare,

Her fingers skim over his and he thinks what could've been.

If he had held their promise carefully in his hands,

If he hadn't let her go into the dark and the deep,

If he had somehow evaded fate's cruel strands,

Then he wouldn't have been left all alone to weep.

So just like each night, she slips out of his grasp,

Leaving the snow as dead as before,

A tear falls down and rips out a gasp,

Regret eats him up and he shivers to the core.

[daeyumi]

[Soldier; Saviour] 🦋🛡️🗡️

My full piece I did for the Lucina zine over on twt~! Lucina is so special to me as a character & I was so happy to be able to contribute to the zine!

[hanayori89]

⚔️Knight Shift: BOTW Link x Reader One shot ⚔️

(DISCLAIMER: STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS SHOULD NOT INTERACT! NOW GO- SHOO!)

One Knock.

That's all it would take to tell the woman of his dreams how he felt.

Now Link attended this recital every night. He would stride down the steely castle corridors, an expression of duty plastered onto his face, more impenetrable than the very brick that constructed the castle.

But there was one threat that seemed to make his facade of dedication crumble to the ground.

One single, detrimental threat who could unsheathe his smile faster than he could his own sword.

And that was the princess's maid.

Every night shift, he would patrol the castle's halls, always managing to stop in front of her door.

And every night, like clockwork, he would raise his shaking balled fist and let it hover a few centimeters away from the door.

It had become sort of a game. If he listened close enough, he could hear her breaths heavy from exhaustion as she slumbered. He would count each breath, and on the third, he would knock.

Except the third would come and pass.

Then the tenth.

Then the twentieth.

All he needed to do was retract his wrist and let his knuckles gently fall forward against the warped mahogany door.

And yet he never did.

He would lower his hand, and with the swiftest turn of his heel, continue his due diligence of protecting the castle and working his assigned shift. With no other sound besides the tinkling of his armored footsteps and the soft waves of blood lapping into his heart.

                   🗡️              ❤️               🗡️

Now there was one other issue that prevented Link from telling the fair maiden of his darkest desires and feelings.

And that was that he was considered mute.

Well, not actually. He could be very vocal. The princess, of course, knew this. The fact that Link spoke to no one but her created a false sense of intimacy between the two.

But the fact of the matter was, Link took an oath of silence as a knight.

But the princess's maid, never had he met someone who could communicate with his silence. He noticed this the first day he caught sight of her, in the castle's kitchen.

There was a splash of sunlight that came in through the window, causing her h/c tresses to soak up the sun's warmth. The sound of her melodious humming drowned out by her busy wrists and the whisk she held that were scraping against a bowl.

He shouldn't have stood there and watched her like that.

But he was mesmerized.

Entranced.

From the way she bit her bottom lip while she concentrated to the few wisps of hair that fell into her eyes as she sifted flour into a dense batter. And her apron, which flowed around her like a sundress, leaving her frame shrouded in mystery. 

 It was a sight he would never forget, not even if he were to be submerged in the Shrine of Resurrection once again.

But the funny thing was, she knew he was watching. And yet she never inquired as to why nor did she ask that he leave. She would glance upward at him, giving him a bashful curve of her lips. Then turn away and resume working, leaving him there.

Visiting her every day in the kitchen became as routine as standing outside of her door each night. And just like every night shift, he failed to communicate the way she made him feel.

On one particular day, Link walked into the kitchen to see her eating from a plate of nothing more than scraps of starch and meager vegetables.

All the protein piled high on plates for the frontline soldiers and the princess herself.

She quickly put her plate down, choking down the nibble she was working on. She brushed her hands against her apron, quickly retrieving a platter and passing it to Link. "This is what I've made for the princess today. Please, eat. Keep your stamina up so you may protect her."

And she said it with a gracious smile. While she stood in this kitchen alone, feasting on cold, leftover dregs.

It was then that Link saw his opening.

They both shared a sole purpose.

To serve the royal hierarchy.

But tonight, Link vowed to serve something greater.

And that was his carnal desires.

🗡️          ❤️             🗡️

Link left the Hateno bake shop, cradling his cake like a precious satchel of rupees. He carefully flipped open the box's lid, content with the cake's heart shape and soft rose petal pink piping. He shut the lid, satisfied with his purchase, and made his way back to the castle.

It was almost time for another night shift.

But tonight, would be different.

Once the big hand of the clock pointed to midnight, he made haste for the castle's east wing.

One knock.

And this time, he had to do it. Link glanced down at the box he held in his hands, taking a deep breath. He didn't allow himself to ruminate, letting his hand fall forward and his knuckles tap on the outside of her door.

Link knew it was rude to stare, but when she opened the door, her silk night robe tied tightly around her waist, parading sharp curves that her apron usually hid, he felt a giant ball of nerves tangle in his throat.

No wonder she hid, a castaway in the kitchen behind an oversized apron.

A woman like this.

A woman who looked like she had been kissed by a great fairy and emanated such a gilded glow.

A woman who looked more scrumptious than all of the royal confectionaries she baked day in and day out.

She tilted her head, her eyes conveying a mix of timidity and intrigue. "Link?"

She backed away from her door, allowing him to enter. Link glanced around her room; the faint scent of almond oil and musk lingered in the air, and it was clearly from whatever she put on her shimmering skin.

He couldn't recall if he had spoken that day. He cleared his throat, trying to summon his voice.

"For you." He said, reticent as if he were responding to an order from the princess.

She looked taken aback, perhaps more from discovering he could in fact speak. She opened the box, her eyes wide as she marveled at the sugary perfection housed within it.

"A cake? But why?" She sauntered toward her nightstand, setting it down. She turned toward Link, "May I?"

He nodded.

Her hand dipped beneath the lid of the box, her finger swiping across the frosting. Once it was layered with a generous dollop, she let her finger rest against her outstretched tongue. The white cream dissolving against its soft pink coat.

Link shifted uncomfortably where he stood, an erection threatening to make him evacuate.

She closed her eyes, and after a moment of silence, opened them. "Vanilla buttercream. Exquisite."

She sat down on her bed, her hand caressing the empty space beside her in a motion Link knew meant she wanted him to join her.

He also knew he wanted to taste the remnants of that buttercream that glazed her tongue.

"I understand now why you are the appointed knight. You are quite observant. But I wonder, what other things do you observe?

Link walked toward her, gently taking his place next to her on the bed. She spoke again, muffling out the primal energy beginning to communicate in their stead.

"I'll tell you what I observe. I observe... that you're always watching me. Even when you don't think I notice, like when you stand outside my door every night."

His eyes shot open, alarm rising within him. The last thing he wanted was to come off as a creep.

"Why?" He whispered in shock.

She stood, allowing her robe to slide off her body and fall to the floor in a crumpled pile. The chill of the air in the room made her nipples engorge, and goosebumps decorate her flesh.

"You and I are the same. We both are vying to be free. To exist for more than just servitude. But that freedom, I think we can find it in each other."

She hovered above him, letting her breasts tantalize him as they hung tauntingly in his face. And it worked; his hands flew up, grabbing them and capturing one of them in his mouth.

She let out a soft gasp; he released her breast, lifting his head toward hers, claiming her lips and tasting the traces of dissolved sugar on her tongue. His hands continuing to work, kneading her breasts in his palms that way he had studied her kneading dough.

She pulled away, gently falling on her knees, looking up at him with that look of knowing she always possessed when it came to him. Link clumsily stood, pulling his pants down and letting them fall to his ankles.

She took her finger and traced a giant gash on his thigh. Her lips kissing it in adoration. She found then another scar.

And another.

Each scar was dotted with wet kisses, his hard cock pressed against her cheek as she did this.

And this is what drove Link wild. There was no communication beyond shameless probing into each other's eyes and the accelerated pacing of their hearts beating.

She could see his face was tight with need. But Link understood; she had to rush in all areas of her life, with him, in that intimate moment, she wanted to savor.

So, she took her time, her tongue following the outline of every battle scar that laced his legs. Until finally, her hands dug into his thighs as she began to flick the tip of her tongue against his aching hard-on.

He let out a growl, his hand nabbing one of her breasts and squeezing her nipple gently while she continued to let her tongue dance up and down each vein on his member.

The familiar wisps of her hair fell into her eyes as she concentrated on pleasing him. Every single movement her tongue made was artful and calculated.

Until finally she inhaled, suctioning his cock into her mouth. Link jutted his hips forward, beginning to piston them in and out of her warm mouth.

He whimpered.

Then he groaned.

And then, he roared.

His body having been a hostage to the battlefield, a display case of wounds and scars, he had never felt such freedom. And his voice, carefully stowed away unless spoken to, was now free to be known.

A mess of saliva and pre-cum streamed down her chin, pooling between Link's legs and dampening the bed. He couldn't withstand much more; he grabbed her hair and pulled her up, only this time he tasted the sweetness of his own essence, not buttercream, drenched in her mouth.

"Sit down." He ordered. His nails digging into her buttocks as he positioned her to sit on his lap. His cock slid from her wet entrance to her clit, causing her to let out a cry.

When he noticed the way the friction of his cock grinding against her clit made her howl, he continued to guide her up and down against it. She anchored herself, her nails gripping his shoulders as she pleasured herself against him.

He sighed, sliding his fingers into her pussy and pulling out some of her nectar for him to taste.

Much like time behind the castle walls themselves, time seemed to come to a complete stop. Sweat blanketed them both. Hushed moans once again turned into guttural cries. She began to beg for him, and Link would never deprive her of her needs. He guided her, sliding her down onto his thick girth. Shivers danced down his body as he felt her muscles clench around him.

His brain couldn't seem to comprehend any thoughts but wanting to go deeper. A voice that he recognized as his own bellowed expletives of pleasure.

Her name, he said it over and over again, as if he were praying to her. The meaning of servitude was quite lovely when it was you on the receiving end.

But this wasn't about Link; it was about this maiden who awoke so many things within him and his obsession to oblige her the way she obliged others.

"Come. I need you to." His hand cradled her cheek as he searched her eyes.

He gripped her hips, aiding her in her hedonistic indulgence of pleasure. His bicep muscles bulging as he lifted her up and down, then back and forth.

Her orgasm, the feeling of her gushing, she was right. How could something that gripped him and imprisoned him make him feel so free?

As they both finished, a tornado of leg shaking and gut clenching orgasms whipping through them, they both collapsed on the bed. Link looked over; the breaths he once listened to from outside her door now came out in satisfied huffs beside him.

One knock. That's all it took.

And yet he still couldn't resist the urge to count them.

Edited: 1/26/25

[lethiepie]

Soldier 🗡️ Poet 🖋️ King 👑

[lisalamona]

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - I

Chapter I: The Horse And The Infant

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x Fem! Reader (platonic) . Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, trauma, and other sensitive content. . Notes: I'm starting to upload this story here on tumblr, I am really sorry for clogging the tags.

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Masterlist

Ten years. Ten years of fighting and barely surviving, only for it all to be ruined by some stupid wooden horse. "It'll never work!" "They'll burn it first!" "By far the stupidest-"

Exclamations and murmurs erupted around you at the captain's proposal, the voices of roughly six hundred men booming with disbelief and anger.

"Enough." Odysseus's attempt to regain control fell on deaf ears, seeming only to make the men talk louder. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, exhaustion practically radiating off him, with dark bags shadowing his eyes like bruises from sleepless nights.

"Brother." You placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. Despite years of learning to keep his guard up, he still jumped slightly, startled.

"Yes?" He turned to you, focusing intently, his voice tired and strained from days of argument and tension.

"Is it really true that Athena told you this?" You glanced at him, uncertain and weary of the plan. Were the Trojans really so gullible as to believe that a wooden horse big enough to hold thirty soldiers was a peace offering? And was your brother really so bold to think that just thirty of you could hold off the whole city of Troy, even if only until the rest of the soldiers arrived?

He nodded. "Every single detail. Believe me, I didn't think it would work either, but—"

"I believe you." He took the hand still resting on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, leaning his head toward it in appreciation.

"Thank you." He looked at you, clearly grateful that at least one person was on his side. "But you don't count. You're my sister."

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him away, and you both chuckled despite the tension.

But the moment of peace was short-lived. Around you, men were beginning to shove each other, voices rising into angry arguments, some even leveling threats.

"Captain!" Both you and your brother turned to see Polites pushing through the crowd, struggling to make his way to you. He was a young man you'd come to consider a close friend after all these years of war. "I tried to calm them down, but they won't listen!"

"You need to do something," came another voice, sharp with urgency. Eurylochus was close behind Polites, giving you a brief nod in acknowledgment before returning to the matter at hand. "Captain, this is getting out of hand," he added, voice stern.

You glanced around at the men, watching as tempers flared and fists clenched. Ignoring your brother's warning look, you grabbed one of the chairs from the table he'd been using to explain the plan. Using it as a platform, you propelled yourself on top of it and brought your foot down as hard as you could. The booming sound echoed through the tent, a noise loud enough that you half expected they'd hear it from Troy.

"ENOUGH!"

All heads turned toward you, the crowd freezing, save for an awkward cough echoing from somewhere near the back.

"Would you all like to shut up for five minutes?" You took a breath to compose yourself. "Your captain was saying something."

The men turned toward Odysseus, who let out an exasperated sigh. "Thank you, [Name]. You can get down from the table now."

You shot him a mockingly sweet smile as Eurylochus reached up to help you down.

"Did I do good?" you asked with a grin.

"You did great," he replied, sounding almost relieved.

──────🗡️──────

Hours passed, hours that felt like days. The only thing keeping you awake were the occasional screams of joy from the people outside.

Eventually, all noise subsided. It seemed that night had fallen, and the Trojans had gone to sleep—most of them, at least.

Odysseus stood up as quietly as he could, avoiding the trap door below. "Alright, everybody, listen closely," he whispered, his voice barely carrying in the cramped space. No one knew exactly what might be waiting for them outside. "Tonight, we make the Trojans pay. Ten years of this cursed war... They've been chipping away at us, grinding us down slowly."

He looked around at the faces surrounding him, men who had once been young and filled with hope, now weary and weathered by battle. Some clutched their swords with white knuckles, while others cast brief glances to each other, finding strength in their shared purpose. The weight of those lost years was written in their eyes, etched in lines on their faces.

"Think of your wives and your children, they're out there wondering where you have been. They're lives keep going and yet you're still here. If you do as I say you'll see them again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Even in your relatively quiet voice, you held a tone of unwavering resolve.

Odysseus turned to the group, his gaze intense and commanding as he laid out the plan one last time. "Diomedes will lead the charge. Agamemnon, you're on the guards. Menelaus, open the gates and let the rest of our men in to take over the city. Teucer, you'll cover us, shoot down any ambush. Little Ajax, you stay back." He paused, looking each man in the eye, emphasizing his trust — and the weight of their roles.

"[Name] and Nestor," he continued, "your job is to find Helen and make sure she stays safe."

"But—"

"I'm not done talking," he cut you off, his tone firm. "We won't argue about this right now. It's enough that I allowed you to come."

"Yes, sir." You held back, swallowing your frustration. Though you weren't pleased with your brother's decision, you knew it wouldn't help to challenge him now.

Beside you, the older man, Nestor, gave you a sympathetic glance. His hair was streaked with gray, age softening his once-dark features. Despite his years, he could still hold his own in battle — though Odysseus clearly wanted someone experienced and careful watching over you. The thought irked you. You wanted to prove yourself, to show that you were just as capable as your brother. But you also knew that openly defying him wouldn't win that trust.

Odysseus turned his attention back to the group. "And lastly, Neoptolemus, avenge your father. Kill Hector's brothers."

He scanned each of you with a final, resolute look. "We'll move soon. Stay alert. When I give the signal, don't hesitate."

"Yes, sir!"

"Dig deep now," he continued, his voice low and commanding. "Find that inner strength. Tap into your pride. Push through the pain. And ask yourself: What do you live for? What do you fight for?"

──────🗡️──────

"I just don't understand why he wouldn't let me actually fight." You and Nestor had managed to sneak into the palace undetected. A young servant had revealed Helen's exact location with little hesitation after seeing your drawn swords.

"You are fighting," Nestor replied calmly.

"Fighting what, exactly? This zone is completely isolated!" You gestured around the empty hall, emphasizing your frustration. Everyone in the palace had either fled in panic or joined the battle raging outside. "Now I'm stuck on a rescue mission with you. Not that there's anything wrong with you, but you're... you know..."

"Old?" Nestor raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"...Yes," you admitted.

He chuckled. "Fighting isn't just about swinging your sword around. You do understand that, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That doesn't stop Odysseus from being a—"

"Hey!" A voice shouted from behind you. Both of you turned to see a Trojan guard. Though most of his face was obscured by his helmet, his anger was palpable.

"Looks like you'll get your fight after all." You let out a small, triumphant "Yes!" and drew your sword, settling into your stance.

The soldier drew his sword and started forward, his walk turning into a sprint. He didn't care that he was outnumbered—all he saw was red. You tightened your grip on your own blade, feeling your heartbeat thunder in your chest as adrenaline surged through you. And then—

...

An arrow whistled through the hallway window, striking him in the neck. He dropped instantly, collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap. His momentum was halted as abruptly as his final breath.

"What?"

You and Nestor approached the window, peering out to spot Teucer on a nearby balcony. He grinned at you, his fingers deftly notching another arrow, already aimed at his next target.

You groaned, muttering a silent curse, which only made Nestor chuckle at your misery.

"We should get moving before things get any worse down there," he said.

The words made you glance down at the wreckage below. Troy was in ruins—homes consumed by flames, people fleeing in desperation, and bodies scattered everywhere, too many to count. Even though you'd known the cost when you signed up for the war, a pang of guilt twisted in your gut at the sight of so many innocent lives lost that night.

You sighed, your voice bitter. "I doubt it can get much worse."

"Never say that. You never know what could happen." His voice was firm, yet a touch of urgency lingered in his tone as he guided you away from the window. With a steady hand on your shoulder, he led you onward, the path tightening as you neared the place where Helen was supposedly being held.

As you approached the room, you noticed two men sprawled on the ground, a pool of dark red liquid seeping from their lifeless bodies. They were definitely dead. You exchanged a tense glance with Nestor before carefully stepping around the bodies, doing your best to avoid the sticky crimson trails that marked the floor. Together, you crept toward the door, steeling yourselves as you slowly pushed it open.

The room seemed spotless, unnaturally so—far too clean and orderly, as if no one had ever lived here. The bed was pristine, untouched, with not a single wrinkle to suggest anyone had even sat on it. The shelves were bare, devoid of trinkets or personal effects. In fact, there wasn't a soul in sight.

"Huh," you muttered. "See? This is why I said we should ask more than one perso—"

Your words were cut short as something heavy and ceramic smashed into your helmet, breaking into shards and sending you stumbling back, ears ringing. Nestor instantly drew his sword, the blade flashing as he braced for an attack, eyes darting around for the ambusher.

Shaking off the dizziness, you steadied yourself, blinking to clear your vision. Standing before you was a tall, blonde woman, her gaze sharp and unyielding, clutching another urn in her hands, poised to throw it again if you made a wrong move.

"Hey, hey!" You raised your hands slowly, keeping your voice low and steady, as though calming a feral animal. "We're here to help you—"

She shifted her weight, winding up for another throw, eyes narrowing.

"We come from Greece. We're here to get you home."

For a tense moment, her fierce gaze softened just slightly, though her grip on the urn didn't waver. Her eyes darted toward Nestor, clearly sizing him up.

"Drop your sword," she commanded.

With a wary glance in your direction, Nestor hesitated before lowering his weapon, his muscles tense, ready for anything.

"You're Helen, right?" you asked gently. She nodded, weariness and distrust shadowing her face as she held back any words.

"I'm [Name], and this is Nestor," you continued. "We need you to come with us so we can get you out of here." Your voice was soft, soothing, and you could see her shoulders relax, if only slightly. She nodded, a glimmer of hope breaking through her guarded expression.

"We won't hurt you. I promise," you assured her. Then, noticing the urn she clutched so tightly, you added, "You uh– you can bring the urn with you, if it makes you feel safe."

Helen gave you a small, grateful smile, a gesture that held more weight than words ever could.

The three of you moved swiftly through the palace halls, carefully distancing yourselves from the bloodshed and chaos unfolding outside. You kept to the shadows, ensuring no one would spot you sneaking her away. It was not just about hiding her from prying eyes—it was about sparing her from the weight of war, shielding her from the crushing burden of its cruelty.

Once you reached the bottom floor, the stench of blood and scorched flesh hit you like a wave. Screams of terror mingled with the guttural war cries of your comrades, a cacophony that filled the air with raw, frantic energy. You were so close to the battle now that you could almost feel the clash of steel and the heat of the flames licking at your skin.

Nestor, ever the protector, guided Helen carefully through the chaos, urging her to avert her eyes from the carnage around her. Instead, he directed her gaze toward the outer wall of the palace, acting as a shield from the violence. You were right behind them, moving swiftly yet deliberately, every step calculated to keep you unseen, just in case the tide of battle turned in an instant.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of your brother. He seemed to be holding his own, knocking a soldier to the ground and plunging his sword into his chest. But then you saw it—the glint of another soldier creeping up behind him, blade raised. Without a second thought, you dashed forward, ignoring Nestor's shouted warning. Your hand was already on the soldier's throat, pulling him away, before you drove your own blade through him, ending his life in one swift motion.

The heat of battle surged through your veins as you stood protectively by your brother's side, heart pounding.

He turned to you, his face caught somewhere between pride and frustration. "Why did you do that? I could handle him."

Adrenaline still surged through your veins, your hands trembling as you struggled to catch your breath. "I gave you strict orders to stay out of harm's way."

"But you're my brother! You think I could just stand by and do nothing?"

"Right now, I'm your captain," he snapped, his tone sharp but cracking slightly. "You wanted to play, so play by the rules."

"And what, let you die in front of me?" Your voice was thick with anger and fear, words spilling out before you could stop them. He let out a long sigh, and the hardness in his eyes softened.

"Thank you." His voice was low, and the weight behind it made it feel genuine.

"Where's Helen?" he asked, already moving purposefully toward an unknown destination. He motioned for you to follow.

"She's with Nestor." You glanced back in the direction you'd come from, searching for them. They were nearly halfway along the path. "They're almost there."

"Good."

"And where are we headed?" you asked as the two of you began to climb a steep stone staircase, spiraling up the tower.

"We need to make sure that no body's left in here."

As you both reached the top of the stairs, an icy wave washed over you, seizing your breath and making you shiver. The hairs on your arms and the back of your neck rose as your heart pounded, faster than it had all night. Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut and raised your arms, bracing yourself against the oncoming figure that had lunged at you without warning. But the blow never landed.

You opened your eyes, but the hallway before you was empty, lined with tall windows on one side, dimly reflecting your tense, wide-eyed expression. You turned to your brother, searching his face for any sign that what you'd just felt wasn't a trick of the mind. His expression mirrored your own: pale, unsettled.

"Who... was that?"

An eagle screeched, its call slicing through the silence as it landed on the nearest window sill. Behind it, lightning split the sky, though not a drop of rain had fallen. Its piercing gaze settled on you and your brother, unnervingly focused and unwavering. Despite being just a bird, it exuded a presence that filled the room—a silent authority that commanded attention. You didn't need to study it to know exactly who it was.

"A vision of what cannot be avoided; it can only be faced here and now."

"What do you mean?" You turned to fully face it, anxiety flickering with a reluctant curiosity.

The eagle's gaze lingered on you, heavy and unreadable, like a storm about to break. "I don't think you're ready," he said, his voice low, every word sharp. "A mission to kill someone's son, a foe who won't run—this enemy is unlike anyone you've faced before."

"Say no more, we're ready." Your brother's voice was firm as he stepped toward the door at the far end of the hallway. Without a moment's hesitation, you fell into step behind him, your resolve matching his. The eagle, ever watchful, soared next you two, its wings slicing through the air outside the palace as it followed your every move.

Odysseus gripped the handles of the door with all his strength, mentally bracing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side. You, too, clenched the hilt of your sword with equal resolve, your knuckles white, a silent promise to face whatever came next.

"I don't think you're ready," the voice echoed, repeating its warning from before.

He finally burst through the doors, the force of his entry sending a powerful gust that dissolved the eagle in an instant, vanishing as if it were nothing more than smoke in the wind.

In the room, there was nothing more than a crib, with toys scattered haphazardly around the floor. It was a miracle no one had entered this room earlier.

"It's just a boy. What sort of imminent threat could he possibly pose?" your brother murmured, his voice softening, as did your stance. There was no immediate danger there.

You approached the crib slowly, cautiously—taking care not to startle the child inside.

Through the single window, clouds swirled and shifted, forming the vague silhouette of the King of the Gods himself. His voice, deep and commanding, filled the room as if he were standing right there with you. "This is the son of Troy's prince Hector. Know that he will grow not just to a man, but to an avenger. One consumed by rage, as time itself consumes him. If you do not end him now, there will be no one left to save. Say goodbye to everything you hold dear."

Finally, you reached the crib and peered inside. It was just a small infant, his eyes still closed, sleeping peacefully—blissfully unaware of the storm that loomed beyond those four walls.

"I could raise him as my own." Your brother was quick to offer a solution, but the god was quicker with a retort, sparking a back-and-forth that left no room for doubt: Odysseus didn't want to face the consequences of what the god was implying.

"He will burn your house and throne."

"I could send him far away from home."

"He'll find you wherever you go."

"We'll make sure his past is never known."

"The gods will make it known."

"I'm begging you, please! Please don't make me do this!" Odysseus' voice broke, desperation rising in him as his last options bled dry. There was only one choice left, and he knew it, and you knew it.

The god's final words rang through the air, cold and unyielding. "The blood on your hands is something you won't lose. All you can choose is whose."

[cleoriaart]

The Archeron sisters as The poet The Soldier and The King 🗡️🥀👑

[veinsfullofstars]

🗡️ Kirbtober 2024 Day 17: Galaxy (Soldier Army) 🗡️

(ID: Kirby: Right Back At Ya! fanart of the four Generals of the GSA, all floating and posing in a white void, their capes flared and armor gleaming. From top to bottom, Sir Arthur soars up with his sword held high, a determined expression behind his golden armor; Sir Dragato stylishly leaps to the side with his falchion held back, looking at the viewer with a confident wink; Sir Falspar jumps in excitement, pumping his fists and his sword in the air; and Sir Nonsurat hovers with his back to the viewer, glancing inscrutably over his shoulder as he wields his battle axe at an impractical - if cool-looking - downward angle. END ID.)

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started on 09/24/24, finished on 09/25/24. | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[batinasweater]

BatFam x What We Do In The Shadows Quotes

Dick Grayson: *When asked about Wally West* He’s my best friend, my pal. He’s my homeboy, my rotten soldier. He’s my sweet cheese, my good time boy.👬

Jason Todd: I go for a look which I call “Dead But Delicious” ✨💅🏼

Tim Drake: One of the best ways to drain people’s energy is via the internet💻

Damian Wayne: A joke has a punchline. And you wouldn't know a punchline if it ran over your scrotum with a penny-farthing!

Duke Thomas: Why aren't they wearing capes? Looks like anyone can be Superman in Metro-polis!🦸‍♂️

Cassandra Cain: If I ever find out who did it, I will take a dagger and stab them 5,000 times with this hand, switch hands, and then stab them another 5,000 times!🗡️

Stephanie Brown: You people are as much fun as the plague. Remember the plague? And how much fun it was? That's this.

Bruce Wayne: And we are truly sorry, and we are taking this very seriously, and these are our serious faces. Serious. Serious. Serious.

[natequarter]

retelling of the iliad from sisyphus's point of view

[stygmatus]

even more disco elysium inspired portraits! this time we got GRIM REAPER, BROKEN SOLDIER, ADORING LIEUTENANT, and MATAGI WARRIOR 🍡🗡️

[mina-m]

Literally so grateful to @silvereyesofelivostis for finding the best tumblr games and tagging me, I would've NEVER come up with anything like this but here we go,

🩷🗡️👑TODAY'S SPREAD 👑🗡️🩷

Links under the cut, please consider yourselves tagged if you guys want to do this!!!

[shelbgrey]

My MasterList of Stories

Master List part 2

~request are open

Criminal minds

Cobra Kai

Codes:

Smut=❤️‍🔥 Fluff=💕 Angst=💔 Funny=💖 Horror=🫀

🔬Bones💀

Dr. Lance Sweets:

Smut Alphabet❤️‍🔥

Caught in the act ❤️‍🔥

Dating Lance Sweets HC💕❤️‍🔥

Adventures in babysitting💕

You belong with me💕

Lance Sweets as a Dad headcanons💕

Dream Warriors💔🫀

Bones Halloween Special🫀💖

Code baby Part 1 💕

Let me take your pain away💕💔

Dr. Jack Hodgins:

Can't buy me love💔💕

Jack Hodgins Having a little sister💕

What's it gonna take to get you out of his lab?❤️‍🔥

Agent Seeley Booth:

Dating Seeley Booth Headcanons💕❤️‍🔥

Being Seeley Booth's Best friend HCs💕

Friends to Lovers Headcanons💕

The day we met💕

In the name of love💕

Agent James Aubrey:

Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance 💔💕

Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance Sweets part 2💕❤️‍🔥

Smut Alphabet❤️‍🔥

Unspoken desire❤️‍🔥

Dr. Wendell Bray:

Witchy Squintern HCs💕

Dr. Camille Saroyan:

who broke the coffee pot?💖

The Squinterns:

Adventures in babysitting💕

Being Hodgins sister and being a goth Squintern💕

Dr. Zack Addy:

I've got your back💕

Who's got him smiling like that?💕

❤️‍🩹Grey's Anatomy🩺

Dr. Derek Shephard:

Halloween special💖🫀

Injured💔

The Ballad of Jayne💔

Stuck in the middle💔💕

Stitches💕

This is Why I Don't Go To The Gym💕

Baby on the brain💕

Dating Derek after he broke up with Meredith💕

Love at first sight💕

Dr. Mark Sloan:

November Rain💔

Faithfully💔💕

We are family💕

Christmas Special💖

Dr. Owen Hunt:

Trauma 101💖

Dr. Jackson Avery:

Love Story💔💕

Dr. Alex Karev:

Heaven💔

Dr. Miranda Bailey:

Your my favorite💕

Dr. Nick Marsh:

Secrets out💕

🗡️Once upon a time🍎

August W. Booth:

Hidden secrets❤️‍🔥💕💔

Killian Jones:

Smut fic with Killan Jones❤️‍🔥

Prince James:

Hysteria💔💕

🩸Twilight🌲

Cullen family:

Fire safty💖

Going to the zoo💖

Cats in the cradle💕

Being Carlisle and Esme's daughter and having the Volturi wrap around your finger. 💖💕

Cullens:

Emmett McCarthy Cullen:

Next to me series💖💔💕❤️‍🔥

Forever now💕

Being Emmett and Rose's daughter HCs💕

Carlisle Cullen:

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter HC💕

Carlisle as your husband HCs💕

Jasper Whitlock Hale:

Jasper dating Bella's sister HCs💕

Edward Anthony Mason Cullen:

Dating Edward Cullen HCs💕

Crushing on Edward Cullen HCs💕

Rosalie Lillian Hale:

Being Emmett and Rose's daughter HCs💕

Denalis:

Eleazar Denali:

Glory of love series ❤️‍🔥💕💔💖

Dating Eleazar HCs❤️‍🔥💕

Garrett:

Voice of an Angel💔💕

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter and dating Garrett HCs💕

Wolf pack:

Seth Clearwater:

Perfect 💕

Volturi:

The Volturi:

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter and having the Volturi wrap around your finger💕

🧫Ghostbusters👻

Peter Venkman:

When unspoken rules are broken💔💕

Dr. Egon Spengler:

Hold on, I love you💔

Two Nerds falling in love headcanons💕

Ray stantz:

Dr. Jelousey❤️‍🔥

Something strange💕💔

🦁🐍Harry Potter🐦‍⬛🦡

Draco Malfoy:

Say Something💔

Dance the night away💕

Just keeping an eye out💕

The truth doesn't always hurt💔💕

George Weasley:

Welocm to Gryffindor💔💕

You belong with me - part 1💔💕

Fred Weasley:

Being a Potter twin and falling for Fred💕

Neville Longbottom:

Your Breaking My Heart💔

Weasley family:

Being adopted by the Weasleys💕

⚔️Supernatural🌘

Gabriel "the Trickster":

Hyper girl💕

The Winchester and the Trickster💕

Love of a lifetime💔

Dean winchester:

Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons💕❤️‍🔥

Castiel:

Being in a love triangle with Dean and Cas💕💔

🎶Elvis Presley🎸

Austin!Elvis Presley:

Love me tender💔💕

💥Marvel🦸

Scott "Cyclops" Summers:

Dating Scott Summers💕❤️‍🔥

A not so White Wedding💕

Clint "Hawkeye" Barton:

Secrets out💖

Whatever it takes💔💕

Tony "Iron man" Stark:

All of me💔💕

Bucky "winter soldier" Barnes:

Treat you better💔💕

Howard Stark:

Time In A Bottle💕

Dr. Stephen Strange:

I won't say I'm in love💔💕

Avengers:

Ohana means family💕

Six avengers and a baby💔💕

[ghostsoap-server]

🍀🗡️Ides of March: GhostSoap Folklore Event 🍀🗡️

In the dawn of the new year, the GhostSoap 18+ Discord is thrilled to announce that sign-ups for the new event are officially open! Welcome to Ides of March!

🕯️What's Ides of March?

This is a nice and sweet creator event, with no partners. All creators should create something inspired by or connected to the general idea of folklore. The main theme for this event is folklore/myths/legends/tales, however you take that! We encourage everyone to explore your (or other) culture, show the fandom the depth of it.

🔮Event housekeeping

The sign-ups will be open for server members throughout the whole event, so you're welcome to join whenever you want. You don't even have to sign up up until the very end (posting period). Signing up just allows us to give you a special role we'll ping for all announcements for this event. Only those with the event role will be able to post their creations in the designated channel in the server at the end.

This is a relaxed event. We want this to be more low-key for everyone, while also enjoyable and fun for creators

📃 Minimum word count is 500 words. No maximum!

🖌️ Minimum art contribution is black and white sketch or an equivalent of rough draft in your chosen medium

💖Huge and special thank you to @octaviusing for the beautiful banner, artworks, and all the amazing, hard work you put into this event. Couldn't have done it without you

🌹Timeschedule

January 11th: Sign ups open (and never close)

January 15th: Creation period starts

March 15th: Creation ends, posting period begins

March 22nd: Posting period ends, reward roles are given out

🎐How do I join?

This event is open to server members! If you're not yet a member of the GhostSoap Server, we hope that you'll join us. Detailed instructions, sign-up sheets, creation help, and just chatting about our favourite soldiers can be found in the server. If you'd like to join us, click here:

We look forward to all of your amazing creations!

-Lt. Bucky