#Battle Training

[wolfythewitch]

My thoughts on the champion!Patroclus au are so disorganized I have not slept, but know that the main reason for its existence is that fictional men are infinitely more attractive when sweaty and covered in blood

[trustymikh]

regular cat activities

[choochooboss]

[1000dactyls]

Rewatching all HTTYD media and realising Hiccup is one of the best shots of the show like genuinely sticks funeral arrow hitting the target that far away, the fact he shot down toothless in pitch blackness while toothless was completely camouflaged there's some more I'm missing but damn get that kid in the Olympics right this second

imagine how much shorter rtte would’ve been if they gave hiccup a gun

[popfizzles]

Eeon is awesome and 2018 tumblr did you wrong. we're ready for her now

thank you 🥺 im glad today tumblr loves her

[shaylai]

I would've loved it if they fought side by side 😭

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

pre angelic revelation, the hotel crew goes looking for Vaggie about some managerial thing and regularly finds her kickboxing in a spare room, beating the crap out of a dummy dressed up in an exorcist's gear and mask

a totally normal way to blow off steam, and one that they sometimes also find Charlie spectating at-

("Aren't you supposed to be against all this violence and shit?" - "Yes! But no actual exorcists are being hurt during this stress relief slash training session! So it's OK!" - "Yeah right. And you think your girlfriend looks hot punching stuff huh." - "Hm? Sorry Husk, I wasn't listening- what did you say?" - "......")

which all well and good!

until AFTER the angelic revelation.....

Charlie: "Vaggie. Please don't tell me that's actually YOUR exorcist armor."

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "Don't say you've been punching your old exorcist mask, imagining your own face under it."

Vaggie: "......"

Charlie: "I do NOT want to hear that you've been beating up on your past self this entire time- while I was watching! -and using punishing yourself by proxy as a way to cope when you're stressing over feeling like you're not doing enough here and now."

Vaggie: "........."

Charlie: "Vaggie why aren't you SAYING anything!?"

Vaggie: "You told me not to!"

Charlie: "ARGH!!!!"

post revelation, Husk goes looking for Vaggie in the training room like usual, and finds her standing helplessly in front of the exorcist training dummy as a tearful Charlie clings protectively to it with a full body hug

husk decides restocking the bar can wait. he's not getting paid enough to deal with This

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

take a shot every time bakugou screams deku and get drunk within a single episode

[rosiethedragongeek]

The twins are SO smart. They successfully sneak into a MASSIVE dragon hunter operation, Ruff managed to steal that key by faking an emotional breakdown and confuse Viggo about when they would attack, they're constantly teaching the gang new words and concepts, they speak at LEAST 3 languages, they've written at LEAST one book that was on the top of some best seller list somewhere, they've memorized so many random facts that they will never need, they've managed to learn how to fly through the air and do BATTLE while working together with each other AND both heads of their dragon as ONE UNIT

[lexithwrites]

Katsuki’s main love language is acts of service and I will die on that hill, that man will cook and clean for Izuku even if he’s in a bad mood, it’s in his blood to take care of people

[shortnotsweet]

[ “SOMEBODY TOLD ME”]:

BREAKING MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME. SEVENTEEN TRACKS AND I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS GAME. A BREAKIN’ MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME—BUT HEAVEN AIN’T CLOSE IN A PLACE LIKE THIS.

— The Killers, Hot Fuss (2004)

Princess Rhaenyra’s insolence is wearing her stepmother’s patience thin. Queen Alicent is not ten years her senior, but even during her own sixteenth year, she cannot recall herself behaving so brazenly. She would never burst into courtly discussions in nothing but gilded armor and the underskirts of her riding leathers, awash in blood. (She would never be spotted in blood that was not her own, anyway. Alicent has never picked up a sword, not one that belonged to her.) Nevermind that Rhaenyra is attending to diplomatic affairs with bared teeth and scales, no—the crux of the matter is just that, her affairs. Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight, a beauty incomparable to any fair maiden, Alicent included. She indulges herself with appetite of a spoiled child, the confidence of man, and the pickings befitting only to her royal blood. Criston Cole. Daemon Targaryen. Harwin Strong. Laena Velaryon. She’s full of love, isn’t she? That selfish, foolish girl. What does Rhaenyra Targaryen know of love, of duty? She is a child in so many ways—she thinks killing makes her a man, thinks the throne is hers despite being a woman, thinks she can have her knight and her uncle and her protector and Laena Velaryon in one fail swoop. She’s wrong. She doesn’t know herself half as well as Alicent does. Alicent, who sees her for what she truly is, who wants to see all of her and more of her and none of her. Alicent has been stolen into the Keep by her own father—both of their fathers—but Rhaenyra is the key to this place, is the window to everything barred. Rhaenyra Targaryen has a dragon. Rhaenyra can fly.

That’s what Rhaenyra had promised her once, with her lips pulled back in a grin, exposing the white of her teeth like the violently radiant creature she was. “Perhaps when you grow tired of plotting against me, we shall ride on dragonback together,” she had said. The tease.

Alicent had yanked her into an empty corridor by the silk of her sleeve, ready to chastise her for her ill behavior. Conversing with the lords and ladies of the court at a feast was one thing, but chattering about her bloody encounters in battle over the pudding tureen were another. The lord at her elbow was going green. Alicent’s own face was likely red; her heart raced whenever Rhaenyra got like this. Alicent had never seen the battlefield—only seen battered men in dented armor and the slumps of corpses lined along dirt roads in the aftermath of war—but her own imagination terrified her like nothing else.

(Rhaenyra is better with a sword than half of the knights in Westeros, and more lovely than the lot. Her reign has not yet begun, but already the commoners flock to her—lured in by tales of her beauty and fine hair—and soldiers would follow her into battle. Alicent would not follow, but she would watch and bite her nails down to the quick.

She thinks of the figure Rhaenyra cuts in full armor, the heat in her gaze underneath the slots of her helmet. Alicent remembers the weight of her own hand in Rhaenyra’s—which was gloved—when the princess rode up to the spectators box and grasped it in her own, bringing Alicent’s knuckles to her lips. She thinks of Rhaenyra murdered in the sky, skewered with another man’s sword, plummeting to the ground, torn in half, streaking crimson across the clouds. Alicent would scream, or cry. She might laugh. She would throw herself from the window of her tower. Rhaenyra’s bloody exploits terrified Alicent for reasons she could not identify, and excited her for reasons she refused to.)

“I’d sooner be confined to the castle for the rest of my days than get on the back of that bloody lizard,” Alicent scoffed. Rhaenyra only tucked her hand over Alicent’s, where it was resting on her forearm. She flexed her fingers, moving to release her grip on the dark fabric, but Rhaenyra intertwined their fingers and held them fast.

“You’re confined already. You are already accustomed to such a thing. I know you. But—”

“But you forget yourself. You think you’re invulnerable, Rhaenyra. You don’t know who you are.” Alicent intends for it to be a sneer, but instead it comes out quietly, and too gentle for disdain. She can’t know. Rhaenyra is as trapped as she is, but they’re trapped together. They belong together. She belongs with Alicent.

“I am Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne and all of Westeros. I am a dragonrider. I am—I am your daughter. In a way. Your sister, too. Your enemy. Your sword, your shield.”

“And what am I?” What else is left for me? Alicent wonders.

“My Queen. For now.” Rhaenyra cocks her head, and the gleam in her eyes burns like fire raining down. “When I am Queen, you will be my lady.”

[trustymikh]

day 8 - cozy

I wonder what he is watching

[sgt-tombstone]

Soap knows how to load and fire a flintlock but won’t tell anyone how or why

it’s his favorite party trick and he loves to gloat that he knows how to operate one weapon that Ghost doesn’t (he could probably figure it out but doesn’t want to risk sacrificing his fingers or face in a firearm explosion to test that theory)

[asphodeline-lutea]

Toothless's little face fell incredulously. "What do you mean, you don't know who I am?

“I’m T-t-toothless."