#barbed straight sword

[knightscanfeeltoo]

Oscar grabbing Kirk's Spiky Shield to Stop the Prickly Knight from Bashing him Again, no matter how much it Fricking Hurts...

(I keep Imagining Oscar grabbing Kirk's Shield and Breaking his Shoulder and Arm by Twirling and Spinning Around like Peter does to Miraz in Narnia Prince Caspian Movie...)

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: in which Katsuki sees you get rid of a scrap book you planned to give him after he broke up with you

The breakup was… rough to say the least. You supposed it could have been described as a perfect mirror image to your relationship to begin with; the crushing pain of Katsuki being Katsuki.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles loudly from outside of the Heights Alliance building as he waited in the cold for you. Everyone was out doing something with the group, and Katsuki could not have been more quietly grateful. Even though he was going to rip your beating heart straight out of your body, he wanted you to maintain the dignity and pride that he had originally fallen in love with.

It wasn’t like Katsuki had woke up that morning and decided that he was going to break up with you; months of inner self-depreciation crept into his thoughts day by day, alongside the crippling realisation of his ex-victim’s strength and progress. The weight of his existence was slowly crashing around him, and he needed all of his attention for his strength.

Unfortunately, that meant cutting away dead weight.

Your happy humming could be heard as you wandered your way to your boyfriend. Your face lightened at the sight of him, before your smile drops at his scowl.

“Hi, Suki! Is everything alright?” You asked him worriedly, head tilted to the side. Katsuki’s scowl deepened, causing you to reach out to him.

“Suki please, you’re starting to worry me,” your voice rang through his ears as his hand locked around your wrist before it could reach his fluffy locks. There was a long pause as you retracted your hand, staring wildly at your boyfriend’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he sneered. If he was going to break your heart, he had to rip it out and shove it in the blender. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took your hand back.

“Katsuki, I-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki.

“Don’t fucking call me that either,” he grunted, shoving his hand in his pocket. Tears threatened to prick at your eyes.

“I’m breaking this thing up. It’s not worth my time at all. I’m training to be the number one hero, so I have no time to waste on other useless shit,” his gaze steeled, no ounce of insincerity to be detected. His words cut deep like a sword, your knees feeling weak as tears cling to your lashes.

“Y-you don’t mean that,” you sniffed. Katsuki let out a gruff laugh.

“Don’t I? Look, I guess it was fun when it started, but my priorities haven’t changed. You were just a distraction, something I could put my mind to. I’m not wasting any more time on you, so just leave me alone. I don’t care what you do, or who you get with. Just don’t fucking talk to me anymore, got it?”

His strength was impressive, you thought. How he could say such horrible things to you without buckling or feeling barbed wire dig into his throat. You could only stare at him with tears in your eyes, before shakily nodding. You turned at your heels and unsteadily walked off, before delving into a run back to the dorms.

Katsuki waited until you left. And he waited. And he waited. Until your sobs could no longer be heard. His body shook, before hushed hiccups and cries left his lips. His exhausted body slumped against the wall, shaky hands knuckling at his wet eyes. Well, his dirty deed was done.

Life afterwards was rough for you. After being together for 10 months, your daily routine stung in ways you didn’t know was possible. You found yourself stopping during tasks you had grown unconscious to; you had to stop texting him during the day. Even just the silly thoughts in your head couldn’t be translated in a text to him.

You could only make protein shakes for one now. Laundry loads grew lighter, snack trips became quicker and physical touch with others withdrew exponentially. For the next month, you rotted in your dorm. You ate when Mina would bring you food, her hugging you tightly and angrily grumbling about how much of a dick her friend was.

You managed to stumble to class when you didn’t oversleep the day away. Insomnia plagued you like the Black Death, tossing and turning as you tearfully mourned the relationship you lost. You arrived to class way later than your ex would, avoiding all eye contact even though you were deskmates. (You soon requested a seat change).

Aizawa had had enough when you stumbled late to his lesson for the 5th time, demanding you stay back after class. You gulped and felt your cheeks heat up, embarrassed that your teacher called you out.

The bell for the end of class sounded, bringing you out of your daze.

“(L/N), stay behind please,” came the tired drone of Mr Aizawa. Mina offered you a smile and a rub on the back as she walked off with Kirishima, throwing you a sympathetic look when she left.

Mr Aizawa cleared his throat as he signalled for you to take a seat in front of his desk. He continued marking some papers as his onyx eyes slightly looked at you.

“Your grades are slipping. You’re arriving late to class. You’re avoiding… certain classmates. If you’re struggling, I’d recommend telling me now and continuing the course. If not, pack your bags and take your grievances elsewhere. We’re training heroes, so you need to be exemplary,” he said bluntly, eyes flickering back to his paper.

You sniffled a little, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr Aizawa. I’ll be better,” you promised dully, wiping your eyes on a tissue. His eyes looked back at you.

“I’m not an idiot. I can tell that you and Bakugou have come to some sort of disagreement. If it can get sorted, I would recommend making up as soon as possible-,” he starts.

“We broke up. He… he dumped me. He said such… horrible things to me. About me,” you whimpered, face screwed up as you clutched your uniform. Aizawa stopped writing before putting down his pen.

“I-I know I’m not exactly as composed as Todoroki, or as fast as Iida or as smart as Yaomomo, but I thought there was something about me that he liked. It just hurts how quickly he discarded me. I’m sorry for disturbing your lessons Mr Aizawa, it won’t happen again,” you quietly cried as you sunk your head in shame.

Only to lift your teary head as Mr Aizawa’s large hand encompassed your scalp. He looked at you with slight concern as you wiped your eyes.

“While it’s true that some of your classmates have advantages that you do not, a real hero doesn’t sell themselves short. Where Todoroki is composed, you’re bubbly and outgoing. Although Iida is fast, he often lacks the ability to let loose and enjoy the small things. And yes, Yaoyorozu is a prodigy student due to private schooling, but you put in the hard work and reap the rewards” his words soothed you as he softly rubbed your head.

“A real hero wouldn’t let someone who had to be chained up at the sports festival make them cry. So don’t sell yourself short. That boy has been in far too many detentions to have the nerve to point out your shortcomings,” he finished, removing his hand and gently pressing his fist into your shoulder.

“Understand me? I’ll let this incident pass if you can prove to me that you can put in the rest of the work and be a hero that everyone can put their faith in.”

The tears returned, but for a completely different reason. You quickly hugged Aizawa, his face immediately shifting into one of discomfort before gingerly patting your back. He let out his signature sly grin.

“Besides, if he tries anything, I can always say to Gang Orca that he needs more classes at the provisional licensing centre.”

You smiled at your home room teacher.

“Thank you Mr Aizawa,” you said, releasing him. He let out a small cough.

“Thank me with your actions. Tell anyone I let you hug me and it’s detention for the next month, understand?” He grilled you.

“I understand sir,” you giggled.

“Now go find Ashido, I can smell her anticipation from here,” he instructed.

“Yes sir.”

After Mr Aizawa’s curt but helpful words, you aimed on self improvement. You focused on bettering a routine, sleeping more and eating healthier. Days you would have spent rotting in bed were forced into activities with your classmates.

The breakup still stung like a knife, but it was easier to manage and slowly dwindled down to a papercut. You hadn’t talked to your ex in 2 months, only sly glances when he wasn’t looking.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki was absolutely miserable. Seeing you rot and struggle to cope absolutely murdered him inside knowing that he was the person who ripped your heart out, and that he couldn’t stitch it back together. He managed to keep his own composure, training even harder to avoid seeing you or bumping into you.

He nearly passed out from training, he was overworking so hard. It was his own fault, he knew that. He just couldn’t work past his issues with you there; you didn’t deserve to be at the end of his shitty stick.

The pride he felt when you started cleaning yourself up and interacting more with your classmates made his chest swell. You looked so much more beautiful and radiant; the person he fell in love with.

And dumped.

“Stupid fucking Sparky, gettin’ sick and makin’ me do his chores,” Katsuki grumbled, arms overflowing with bin bags as he stumbled to the large bins. It had been 2 months since your breakup. Or, even worse; your 1 year anniversary.

His heart was absolutely wrecked, but he could now slide quick glances to you without fear of you looking at him. He was so proud that you were able to overcome his asshole behaviour, and hopefully swallow any more feelings that you had about him. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sniffling.

He peeked his head around the corner, dropping the bin bags as quietly as he could. His eyes widened. You were stood near the incinerator, a thick book wedged in your hands.

Tears slowly trickled down your face as you looked at the book. A small smile appeared as you thumbed the cover.

“I… I thought we would have made it. I don’t know, I thought it was all going so well. I know I’ll never probably understand what was going through your head that day, but… it’s time to let go of the past,” you say quietly, rubbing your teary eyes as you open the incinerator door.

“I loved you, god fucking damnit! More than I think I could have ever loved anyone! I suppose a small part of me always will now, though. I just thought we had a better chance. Happy one year anniversary, Katsuki,” you finish as you let out a sob, throwing the book into the furnace. You ran off before checking that the book was fully inside the furnace, slamming the door and running back inside.

Katsuki waited until your steps made no noise, before running forward and pulling the book from the furnace. It was a scrapbook; the book was ridiculously chunky, with glitter glue and doodles smothering the outside, as well as stickers from your combined favourite TV shows. The furnace had charred a large chunk of the book, the smell permeating his nose.

Then he saw your names scrawled neatly in cursive. His heart started to thud as he thumbed the pages.

Polaroid photos of you on dates were plastered neatly on the pages; some photos he remembered, others he had no recollection of. Movie ticket stubs, post it notes with cute messages detailing your affections, stickers you gifted each other, silly photos from photo booths that you dragged him into.

Each page was a flash of white-hot pain. There were photos of him during a festival winning you a fish from a difficult carnival game, his eyes smoked beautifully with eyeliner as he grinned (and won the fish). He wonders if you still had it.

Another photo of his birthday party. The two of you had snuck off to your favourite spot in the woods, where he found that you had created your own picnic spot with a spread of his favourite foods. Photos of shy hand-holding, of him resting in your lap and vice versa.

Katsuki was struggling to see the paper for the tears he tried so desperately to blink away before reaching the last page. A whole page was filled with your writing, and Katsuki had to knuckle his eyes to read it.

Dearest Katsuki,

Wow, a year already! I’m so happy that we’ve come so far, my love. I’m so indebted to you for everything that you’ve done for me; helped me with training, putting up with me, hell even just being there for me.

I know I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, I know I’m easily excitable and not exactly quiet. I love and appreciate that you can listen to me and not get bored, just as I do with you.

Training to be a hero is hard work, so I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to take your journey with me, even though you’re training so hard to become number one.

I love you more than words can ever describe; you’re the reason I wake up everyday. I adore you, and I hope we can have many more years together kicking ass and beating Deku >o<

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Your (N/N)

Katsuki couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down his face. Reading your words of quiet insecurity, thanking him for things that he threw right back into your face like you were nothing made his heart ache so badly.

He clutched the scrapbook to his chest tightly, sending silent but desperate apologies to you as his head sunk to the floor. Guttural cries escaped him as his choices swirled through his head. The scrapbook’s cover buckled due to the force of his grip as he sobbed his heart out.

Months of self deprecation caught up to him as he craved your touch; he wanted you to hear him, to turn around and hold him tightly to your chest and never ever let go ever again. He needed your sweet affirmations as you played with his hair; “my number one hero,” you would croon as you hugged your tired boyfriend.

His stupid pride got in his way once again, and he finally came to the one conclusion he should have met those 2 fateful months ago.

He couldn’t do this without you.

The trip back to Heights Alliance was a painful one, but Mina hugged away your issues as soon as she saw your misty orbs.

“I’m so proud of you for doing this bestie. You deserve so much better. It’s time to let go of the past,” she told you softly, pink hair tickling your face. You smiled at your best friend.

“Thank you for everything Mina, I really mean it,” you sniffle, wiping your nose and taking a deep breath. You let go of your friend as you smiled at her.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap, training was super rough today,” you told her, squeezing her hand as she squeezes back.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well, and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” Mina promised, giving you one last hug.

You gave her a wan smile as you walked to your dorm room, throwing a pained look at your exes room. You shook your head as you unlocked the door and got changed into some comfy clothes. Tired bones sunk onto your bed as you let out a sigh.

“It’s time to let go of the past,” you murmur as you fell asleep. As soon as you were about to beat Shigaraki to a pulp, a loud knocking on your door pulled you from your dream.

The knocking was quiet at first, then grew louder, more desperate. You thought it was Mina, and that you had skipped dinner.

You let out a tired laugh, getting out of bed and redoing your hair.

“Okay, okay Mina, I’m coming-“ your voice was cut short as you opened the door, seeing a disgruntled ex staring at the floor.

Clutched tightly in his hand was the scrapbook, as you looked on in shock. How did he get it?! He wasn’t there when you- oh fuck.

Katsuki raised his head, volcanic eyes plagued with tears as he wildly searched your face. He gingerly reached for your hand before sinking to his knees, placing your hand on his face.

“P-please take me back. I know I was a dick, but I’m willing to show you all of my vulnerabilities. Please baby,” he raised his head again.

“I can’t live without you.”

[zaronxyz]

Love In Paradise In Prose

Athena walks into her observatory with a calm stride. An invisible wind gusts through her feathers, rustling them as the observatory activates. The roof begins spinning, gradually picking up speed as the stars above her blur into white blemishes. Athena walks to the middle, and a light blue spotlight appears on her. As soon as it does, time around her freezes completely, and the world gains a blue tint. The clock starts ticking.

White squares containing all of Odysseus' memories sterling around her, waiting for her to view. "Old friend, it's been ten years since I last saw you..." Athena mutters calmly. Her eyes slowly flutter shut as her breath hitches, remembering the painful memory for her.

The cyclops' rage increases, and it charges towards the sound of Odysseus' voice. Odysseus remains calm, confidently calling out to it as he continues backing away. "When we met, I lead with peace while you fed your inner beast. I am neither man nor mythical. I am your darkest moment." He stretches his arms out to the side as a victorious grin appears on his face. "I am the reigning king of Ithaca. I am neither man nor mythical. Remember me! I am the infamous Odysseus!"

Athena shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing together as her lips purse in a fine line. The roof above her continues spinning as she brings her hand up to the memories. "Let's see where you've been." Athena's fingers press down on the white square, and her whole eye goes pure white as the visions begin to across her eyes.

Aeolus twirls around Odysseus in the air, a goofy smirk on her face. She eventually lies down on her belly next to him while staying in the air, looking over his shoulder at him. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer~" Aeolus teases one final time before dropping the bag of winds right on his head.

Poseidon's form made of water stretches across the front of the ship, easily towering over it by multiple stories. His beard is rough and black as he smirks down at Odysseus' crew with his shark-like teeth. He raises his hand high above his head, a golden barbed trident appearing in it. "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves!" Poseidon lunges his arm down, driving the trident straight through Odysseus' ship.

Circe's eyes narrow as she stares down Odysseus' sword that is pointed directly at her face. She takes a step back, moving her hand to the vanity table and grabbing a gold dagger from it. Her lips form a deep frown as she speaks, "One wrong move and you're done for. Anything I don't approv-"

Tiresias raises his staff high above his head, the shard of the moon beginning to glow across his hood. A collection of different stars and constellations swirl around Odysseus and Tiresias as his eyes close behind the blindfold. "I see a song of past romance," Tiresias pauses, his mouth forming a slow grimace. "I see the sacrifice of man..."

The siren looks at the bag containing her friends with horror. Her mouth falls open, and her eyes widen as they quickly become blurry with a combination of fear and anger. Odysseus smirks as he looks down at the siren, his sword in his hand glinting in the sunlight. He crouches down, taking the sirens chin in his hand. His eyes lock with the sirens, and he puts his sword to her throat. "We won't take more suffering from you." With a single slice, the siren's head flies off her body, her body falling limp as the head sinks to the bottom of the ocean.

The crew listens, and so does Scylla. Scylla's main head curls into a smile, another eel darting towards one of the torchbearers. "Drown in your sorrow and fears!" Scylla's eel snatches one of the torchbearers in its mouth, his blood splattering across the deck of the ship as the eel retreats with its new meal.

The rain patters down on the remaining crew as Eurylochus and Odysseus stand apart from each other. Zeus stands behind them, waiting for Odysseus to make a decision with a smirk on his face. Odysseus, meanwhile, has his head downcast and a deep frown on his face. He has decided already, but he still has to tell Zeus.

Eurylochus' eyes are locked on the top of Odysseus' head as Odysseus looks at the ground. He takes a step forward, placing his hand on Odysseus' shoulder. He will choose to save them, right? He gently squeezes Odysseus' shoulder, almost reassuringly. His voice comes out besitant and strained. "Captain...?" Eurylochus mutters out, his mouth forming into a frown.

Odysseus stays quiet for a moment longer, his eyes trained on the water seeping through the boards of the ship from the rain. He hesitantly lifts his head up, his tear-striken face now visible to Eurylochus. He has to be ruthleess if he's going to make it back home. "I have to see her," Odysseus states plainly.

Eurylochus' eyes widen, and he almost takes a step back, but he doesn't. He brings his other hand to Odysseus' other shoulder, squeezing them both gently. Tears begin to slip down his own face as the weight of Odysseus' decision dawns on him. "But we'll die..."

Odysseus steps forward and hugs Eurylochus tightly, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. His eyes snap shut, another tear slipping from his eyes as his arms squeeze Eurylochus tightly. "I know..."

Zeus lets out a bark of laughter, obliging by Odysseus' decision. A large lightning bolt forms in his hand, and he hurls it down to Odysseus' ship to kill his crew. Odysseus lives, but his crew does not.

When the lightning hits, Athena's white eyes flicker back to their normal state, and she's thrown out of his memories. She places a hand over her chest, finding jt heaving. She had thrown her head down at some point, so she lifted it back up to look at the Memory Squares once more. Her eyebrows shoot up, and her eyes widen as she sees only one more Square left. "Odysseus... where did you go...?"

Athena hesitantly raises her hand from her chest to the square, pressing down on it once more. The smell of a tropical coast reaches her right before her eyes go white once more.

Rolling waves lap against the shoreline of the island, with palm trees soaring overhead. Odysseus slowly blinks away the salt as his eyes adjust to the sudden sunlight. The sound of seagulls reaches his ears as he hears footsteps coming up to him. He hears a voice, soft, feminine, and thunderstruck. "Morning, sleepyhead, you've been resting for a while. I swore that you were dead when you washed up on my isle." The head of the woman pops into Odysseus' view, a love-sick grin on her face as she looks down at him with her arms crossed behind her back. She has long black hair, two pink flowers inside it, and dark skin riddled with sea salt. "Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me, though, who's Penelope?" The woman asks with an innocent smile.

Odysseus smiles and looks down at his hand, lifting it up so his wedding ring is glinting in the sunlight. His eyes sag as a small smile spreads across his face. "She's my wife."

The woman's eyes widen right before they narrow into a scowl. Her eyes snap dangerously to the ring before she plasters on a welcoming smile once more. She walks over and lits Odysseus up by the arm, beginning to lead him across the isle. Odysseus reluctantly comes with, but his steps aren't very purposeful. "Anyways, I've got all you could want here, all you could need here, just you and me, my dear, my love for life." Odysseus' eyes widen when she says, "My love for life." He tries to rip his grip from her arm, but it's far stronger than his own. How...? The woman stops in front of her door and opens it, revealing her bed with pink curtains and sheets, a hopeful smile on her face as she gestures toward it. "Soon into bed, we'll climb and spend our time."

Odysseus eventually rips his hand from the woman's grip and takes a step back, his eyes narrowing at the woman's form. "I'm not your man," Odysseus states bluntly, not bothering to placate the woman.

The woman takes a step forward, stretching out her arms to the side a little as the smile on her face gets wider. Odysseus takes a step back in response. She loves him, why can't he see that? "I'm what you want here, I'm what you need here. Just you and me, my love in paradise." The woman takes another step forward, forcing her mouth into a teasing smirk as she lifts her hand to tap Odysseus on the nose. "Now 'til the end of time, from here on out, you're mine, all mine."

Odysseus' face scrunched up when the woman taps his nose. He takes a step back and quickly unsheathes his sword from his belt and points it at her neck, the tip just barely grazing her skin. The woman freezes in place, her eyes locking with Odysseus. "Hell no! I could kill you where you stand!" Odysseus steps forward as if to prove his point. "I'm no pet, I'm a married man!"

The woman lifts her hand slowly and tilts Odysseus' sword down with her finger, a sultry smirk on her face as she does so. "Oh, handsome, you may try, but last I checked, goddesses can't die!" The woman lifts her hand and covers her mouth with her palm, letting out a small giggle.

Odysseus steps back, his grip on his sword faltering for a moment when the woman declares herself a goddess. His eyes widen as they lock with the woman's once more. "Goddess...?" Odysseus says quietly, his voice a whisper in the tropical air.

The woman takes a step back, her feet slowly rising off the air. "You're adorable. Bow down now to the immortal Calyspo, here to entertain." Calyspo's feet hit the floor once more as a pleading smile spreads across her face. "But fear not, I bring no pain. Cause we've got," Calyspo begins teleporting both her and Odysseus across her island Ogygia, showing him the waterfalls and beautiful scenery to punctuate her words, with Odysseus growing increasingly annoyed, "all we could want here, all we could need here, under my spell we're stuck in paradise. No one can come nor go. My island stays unknown."

"No, no..." Odysseus eyes flick upon the scenery, noting how beautiful it all is, but something is off. He takes a step back when they reach a waterfall, his back to it while his face is pointed at Calypso. "I don't belong here. There's something wrong here! I won't be drawn to love in paradise! Not 'til the end of time, there is no way-"

"You're mine, all mine..." Calypso states as she hugs Odysseus tightly, as if staking her claim on him.

Athena's gaze hardens when she's brought out of the memory. Her eyes flick to the one new Memory Square, assuming it is the current day. "Seven years she's kept you trapped out of your control. Time can take a heavy toll." Athena's hand lifts to press upon the last Memory Square, and her eyes go white once more. This time, there's a rainstorm.

Rain pours down on the cliff where Odysseus kneels upon. His head is lowered to the ground hundreds of feet below him as footsteps quickly shuffle up to the cliff behind him. Odysseus' tears mingle with the rain pouring down around him as Calypso's voice echoes behind him. "Odysseus?"

"All I hear are screams..." Odysseus says solemnly, images of Telemachus, his son, and his wife, Penelope, flashing across his vision.

Calypso takes a step towards Odysseus, her hand outstretched to him. "Ody, get away from the ledge!" Calypso exclaims quickly, her hand quickly falling to her side as a deep frown spreads across her face.

Odysseus throws his hand back at Calypso before standing up abruptly, looking up at the sky. "You don't know what I've gone through! You don't know what I've sacrificed." Odysseus almost feels Polites hand on his shoulder, edging him to the ledge. He takes a step forward as he continues, "Every comrade I long new. Every friend, I saw them die. And all I hear are screams."

Calypso takes another step forward, stretching her arms out to Odysseus and putting on a big smile for him, hoping to coax him back. Internally, she's crying as she sees him take another step towards the ledge. "It will be fine, dear. Come back inside, dear. Love of my life, come back to paradise. I know your life's been hard, I'll stay inside your heart."

"All I hear are screams!"

"I love you, my dear, I love our time here. Life would be so much worse-"

"Just let me close my eyes!"

"-if you had died. Please stay away from harm, stay in my open arms."

Odysseus' head snaps up as he hears voices from above him. His eyes continue to water and stream down tears like waterfall as he feels hands on his back, slowly pushing him to the edge of the ledge. "All I hear are..."

"This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms!" Polites exclaims to Odysseus as he floats off the ledge. "Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart. No matter what we face, we can light up the world. Here's how to start: greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open arms!" Polites floats forward to Odysseus and taps him on the nose before giggling, but no sound comes out when he does.

Odysseus falls to his knees only a foot away from the ledge as Polies smiles down upon him. Eurylochus flies past Odysseus and floats in front of his shoulder with his arms crossed. "How much longer 'til your luck runs out? How much longer 'til the show goes south? How much longer 'til we all fall down?" Eurylochus sneers down at Odysseus one last time before jerking his head to the side; refusing to look at his captain.

Odysseus raises his hands to his face and claws at it, covering his crying eyes from his friends. His heart is pounding in his ears, and before long, it gets too much for him. His hands drop to his sides as he screams out, calling for his last friend, "Athena!"

Athena's eyes go back to normal as she's kicked out of the last Memory Square, leaving none left around her. She's frozen, her eyes wide as she stares off into space. "He needs my help," Athena says softly. A tear drops from her eye as the observatory roof stops spinning, and she storms out of the room to Zeus' throne room. As she does, the ticking clock stops and the world loses it's blue tint.

[tadc-survival-isles]

If My boy Jax would weald a weapon, what would it be?

Something like a baseball bat, or just straight up a gun?

As silly as it would be for him to just straight up have a gun on him, the island doesn't have any guns.

He does use a baseball bat for combat purposes that he fitted with barbed wire and nails! However another weapon you can sometimes see him with is his hunting spear. He doesn't fight with it because he never learned how to properly handle it for combat. Bro would fling it around like a sword instead of ranged offense because hes an idiot who thinks swinging it is cooler and that would leave him open.

[bluegalaxygirl]

It's not just a dream (Zosan X reader)

Plot: Nightmares plague the readers head and when confiding in Robin is told that the things they see are real creatures who feed off your dreams.

The creature is based off Lovecraft stories and thank you to @being-worthy for the suggestion <3. Zoro X Sanji X Reader, poly relationship, established relationship, Reader is GN.

Warning: Nightmares, Making out, Violence and Dreamcore.

Stone stairs spiralled around buildings either leading to a deadly drop or to a new street with starched out buildings and floating street signs. This place made no sense but you kept running trying to find a way out. Panting, sweaty and scared you have no idea why your running in the first place, there was no one around but you felt like something was hunting you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and anxiety welled up inside as you made it to the end of a very long stair case stopping just before falling off the edge. Way down bellow, to far for you to survive a jump was train tracks and buildings in odd shapes and sizes, nothing was in a straight line and the windows of the buildings were out of place along with doors that were either too small or sideways. Your breath hitched in your throat feeling like something was behind you, there was no sound to indicate it but your body was telling you something was there. Slowly turning around a humanoid creature stood on the stairs behind you, You could tell it was looking at you even though it had no face, just wrinkled flash covering its head and two long winding horns pointing inwards. Its arms were like bat wings with long claws, it had no hair or fur just rubbery skin pulled over an unbelievably skinny body. Its long skinny barbed tail swished back and forth somehow not making any sound. As you stepped back it stepped closer, your feet almost over the edge but every part of you said to keep going, just get away form it. Your body moved on its own stepping back once more falling over the edge, as you fell its head peeked over the edge tilting it before you hit the ground.

Gasping awake you sit up Zoro's arms already around you as he whispered soothing words to you "Its ok baby, it's just a dream" he sighs pushing your hair out of your sticky face as you try and catch your breath and take in your surrounding's. Your in the large bed the three of you share, Sanji's gone probably making breakfast while Zoro holds you close. "S-sorry" you sigh starting to calm down "There's nothing to be sorry for" the swords man pulls away lifting your chin up so your looking at him "You ok?" his voice smooth and calm as his thumb rubs your jawline "Yea.. i'm ok". Helping you up and out of bed Zoro gives you a sad smile. You've been having nightmares for a few weeks now, leaving you tired and heart pounding, every dream takes place in the same place with that same creature. Sometimes it attacks you and other times it just watches you. Sanji and Zoro have been very worried about you, the dark circles under your eyes getting worse and falling asleep at random times of the day only to wake up in a sweat or even screaming like something attacked you.

You had a routine by now, Wake up, calm down, take a shower, pick at your food, try not to fall asleep, fall asleep, rinse and repeat. The vicious cycle seeming to never end, you didn't even know what day it was and things like reading became something you couldn't do, it either made you too tired or the words on the page started moving making your head hurt. Chopper tried to help, he superscribed teas, yoga, meditation and more but none of it seemed to work. The rest of the crew was concerned to the point where no one was comfortable letting you go out alone or fight, you didn't mind though, too tired to argue let alone think. After your shower Zoro helps you dry your hair, insisting you don't lift anything heavy even though its just a hair dryer but again your too tired to argue just letting it happen as you sit there trying not to fall asleep again. On your way to the kitchen your swords man keeps an arm around your waist, you think he's just being clingy but unbeknownst to you he was stopping you from swaying side to side as you walked.

"Morning my loves" Sanji's cheery voice makes you smile as you both enter the kitchen and take a seat "Morning Hun" you greet letting Zoro help you sit down before he heads off over to the cook "Morning" the swords man greets running a hand around Sanji's waist as the man cooks before pressing a kiss on his temple. Not everyone was up yet, It was early only Brook, Chopper, Robin, Sanji, Zoro and you were in the kitchen. With your head laying in your hand you look up at the two with a smile, a hand lightly pressed against your arm gaining your attention. Robin sat next to you with a concerned face, Chopper next to her looking at you "You ok? Iv been calling you" The reindeer asks making you sit up straight "Sorry, what do you need?" you ask as Robin's hand moves to yours holding it "You still having nightmares?" She asks watching you nod "Can you tell us about them?" The doctor asks, this question always seems to come up, What do you dream about? What scars you? Why does it scar you? The questions annoy you and over the past week your answers have gotten a lot shorter and more snappy. "Same as the others" you snap Robins hand squeezing yours as Chopper looks down.

A cup of tea and a plate of food was placed in front of you Sanji leaning down with a smile taking the cigarette out of his mouth before placing a kiss on your head. Zoro joins sitting next to you digging into his own food "Are you going to eat today love?" Sanji's voice full of worry about your health only for you to shrug "It looks good but i'm not that hungry" You can't face him when you talk about food, you love his cooking and his face is so sad when you don't eat it, makes you feel worse. The cook puts his cigarette out and rubs your shoulders leaning down and kissing your cheek "Just eat what you can, please" his begging hurt your heart and makes you want to cry, all you want is to sleep, one good night sleep where you don't wake up after dying in your dream. "I'll try. Thank you" you sigh reaching your hand up you place it on one of his. Robin squeezes your other hand to get your attention "I know your not in the mood to talk but... we really want to help" her voice is soft almost like a mother talking to her scared child but you feel comfort in it. Chopper nods standing up in his chair "Could you please describe your dreams in detail? Robin and I have been reading up on dream theory and meanings so maybe we can help" The doctors pleas makes you tear up a little, you know they all care so much for you but your so tired. Sanji's hands squeeze your shoulders trying to give you encouragement to go on while Zoro's hand moves to your thigh as he leans over to you "Please" he whispers getting you to sigh and with a tired mind you start talking.

You tried your best to describe everything, what the world looked like, how things felt so real, the ways you died until you finally got to the creature. Deciding it with tears in your eyes, you talked about how it was always silent, even when it flew over you, its wings never made a sound. How its claws digged into your flash as you try to grab onto its smooth rubbery skin. They looked at you in shock not realizing the extent of your nightmares before now but what caught your attention was Robin's and Brook's face. The musician had stopped drinking his tea almost dropping the cup as you described the creature, Robins eyes widen and her grip tightens on your hand making it tingle from the lack of blood flow "What?" Sanji's voice brakes the long silence that filled the room once you were done talking, seeing the expressions of his crew mates faces made him worry. "Y/N, your not having dreams" Brooks voice catches your attention but his words make no sense, you put it down to being tired and mishearing him only for Zoro's abrasive voice to confirm what you had heard him right "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Their alive and their here." His anger boiled over Sanji having to place a hand on the sword mans shoulder to stop him from getting up. "He's right" Robin sighs releasing your hand a little letting the blood flow through again. "I read about these creatures. Night-gaunt's. They feed off dreams in a way. Its hard to explain, but they keep their victim in a constant state of fear and exhaustion until that person dies, then they move on to the next. they feed of your energy making you tired, what's happening is real, it's in a dream world but... its real"

You didn't know whether to believe her or not but as Brook stood and walked over leaning across the table to look at you it hit you that this was real. "One of my old crew was a target." The sadness on the skeletons face tolled you all the outcome, it made you scared "But, there is a way we can break it. In the dream you have to die one way or another, if you live then there's not enough fear for the Night-gaunt to keep a hold of you" hope filled you at his words knowing there was a way out. Sanji's arms moved form your shoulder to around you placing his head on your shoulder still trying to take everything in, he couldn't bare losing you. Zoro tried his best to keep his mouth shut, he was too angry about the situation and he wanted nothing more than to kill the creature doing this to you. "How though?" your voice finally rang out managing to collect yourself enough to deal with the situation. "Well one of the dream books we read talked about a ritual that can make people enter each others dreams. If we do it right, some of us can go in with you and help" Robin's smile made you feel warm and you nodded happily agreeing with her "Im gonna kick that thing's ass" Zoro growled one hand taking yours while the other landed on his swords "Im going too" Sanji kisses your cheek, you turn to face them both their eyes filled with a burning desire to protect and fight for you.

As night approached everything was finally ready, set up in the work shop the only light were candles dotted around the room. A large circle on the floor made of salt and lavender and inside laid you, Sanji and Zoro, your heads touching as you laid on your backs making a Y shape. Chopper had you drink some strange tasting tea before you all laid down while Robin read from the book explaining everything to you. "Once its starts we can't stop, the ritual lasts about an hour but to you three it'll feel like ten or twenty minutes since time moves faster in dreams. Remember to stay calm and don't do anything dangerous" you nod at her as you all hold hands feeling slightly dizzy from the tea. Brook starts to play a very light song with his violin while Robin starts to read the ritual form the book. Things start to go fuzzy and her words drift from being loud to being dulled, the violin soothing making your eyes close.

Opening your eyes and sitting up you notice your surroundings, long winding street with odd shaped buildings that dont line up with the street and staircases winding around from the floor into the air. This time the dreamland felt different, you weren't scared and instead of no small at all there was a faint smell of lavender. "Y/N?" Zoro's and Sanji's voices sounded behind you, for a minute you forgot that they came with you, turning your two boys walk over to you and you can't help but run up to hug them both. "Hay baby" Zoro laughs holding you close as Sanji runs a hand through your hair "You feeling ok?" the swords man pulls away to ask. in the dream world you look less tired, no bags under your eyes and you seem to have your energy back "Yea i'm good. We should get going though?" Sanji looks down at you not convinced by your words "My love, your safe with us" his soothing touch on your cheek makes you feel calmer but you can feel the anxiety inside starting to rise "I know but its best to keep moving. Staying in one place for too long is dangerous" Not wanting to scare you more than you already are the two agree to start walking. Taking the boys hands they keep you in the middle as you walk around aimlessly.

The strange word makes no sense to any of you and nothing looks the same making it hard to figure out where to go but you keep walking. A spark of fear and anxiety flares in your chest making you stop in your tracks, Zoro and Sanji doing the same looking around and pulling you close between the two "You can sense it?" The cook asks his arm around your waist as he holds you close to his back, his leg slightly raised ready to kick anything that comes near. "Yea. I-i don't know where it is though" you whisper back afraid the creature will hear you as you cling to Sanji's back. "Stay close, we've got you" Zoro whispers back holding two of his swords out his back pressed up against yours. The world is quiet as the three of you look around, your goal is to survive, easier said than done even with the two strongest men around. Tears well up in your eyes at the sickness growing inside you, you hate that feeling, it means the creature is very close. You try to breath slowly taking in deep breaths as Sanji's hand rubs your hip but your breath catches in your throat. Turning your head slowly to look the other side of you as you tug of Sanji's arm. The silent flesh faced creature stands beside you making you scream out and back away as its clawed wing swings down to hurt you, two swords block it and push the wings back up as Sanji kicks the creature in the chest sending it falling away form the three of you.

It makes no sound, no grunt or growl as it stands up tilting its head at the three of you "Its even creepier than you described" Sanji glares at the thing, disgust welling up inside. Catching your breath you manage to steady yourself as it just stood there "Get inside" Zoro nudges you but you don't move "Can't, none of the doors or windows open" you reply the creature starting to flap its wing but like always its silent. Lifting its self off the ground it fly's at the three of you, it's long legs turning to kick at Zoro who blocks it only for one of its wings to come down and slash at the swords man. Sanji jumps in using his leg to block the clawed wing form hitting the man but as the creature pushes off using its other wing to stay in the air it used its tail to whip the cook in the face sending him falling over form the force. Running over to Sanji the creature try's clawing at Zoro again but is pushed away and sliced across the wing. Checking Sanji's face you notice a small cut on his cheek but other than that he seemed fine, helping him up you notice the sword slash actually did some damage. The creatures wing was split open but there was no blood just flash hanging as it backed up, Its head turned to you and Sanji leaping at the two of you. Sanji easily kicked it way, you could tell it was getting angry, its movements becoming more animalistic than calculated.

It kept trying to lunge at you but your boys managed to stop it or at least pull you away telling you not to get involved and just say behind them. The more they hurt it the less scared you became, you could have hurt this thing if you wanted too but it kept you so scared it made you think you couldn't. As time went on it got more and more desperate trying to get to you before the time ran out. Sanji's leg kicked its feet out from under it as Zoro sliced through its wing taking it clean off. The creature ignored it though, going between the two and pushing off the ground to lunge at you. Quick thinking saved you, grabbing a floating road sigh you swung hitting it in the face sending it to the ground as it skidded passed you. Sanji ran past you as it got up kicking its head into the wall and holding it there as Zoro stabbed its swords into the creature's chest. It tried to wiggle out, its tail coming up to whip at Zoro only for you to kick it into the wall, the barbed end getting stuck in the bricks. Relief washed over you as you looked at the creature you once feared, your eyes felt heavy again and the smell of lavender got stronger making you feel woozy.

Opening your eyes Chopper smiles down at you "Your awake" The reindeer cheers wrapping his arms around your neck hugging you as you sit up holding him in your arm. You giggle and run your hand through his fur hearing groans behind you as Zoro and Sanji wake up. "You did it" The doctor cry's into your shoulder as you turn to look at Zoro and Sanji. Robin helped the cook up who thanked her with a big smile, the cut on his cheek no where to be found. Zoro stood up stretching as Brook offered to help but got pushed away. "Thank you" you smile at them all, feeling tired but safe. Chopper lifts his head up form your neck, his eyes streaming with tears and blue nose running "Y/N... i'm so glad your alive" he cried making you giggle and pat his head. "We'll see if its successful after tonight." Robin nods as Zoro walks over and picks you up form the ground holding you in his arms "You look like hell" he laughs a little, the bags under your eyes dark and puffy while your hair messy, but he still loves you. "Well i think you look amazing my love" Sanji walks over placing a kiss on your cheek. "Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning" Robin smiles patting your leg before leaving Brook following after her. "You going too?" you ask down at Chopper who's still in your arms, you feel him shake his head clinging onto you for dear life. "Come on Chopper I'll take you to bed" Sanji laughs trying to grab the reindeer who squirms in your arm trying to hold on. "Oh it's ok Hun, he can stay" you can't resist the fluffy doctor, he's too cute to say no too.

Zoro carries you and Chopper to bed Sanji holding the door open for him. The two boys didn't mind Chopper spending the night, he's done it before and it makes you happy. The poor reindeer feel asleep in your arms on the way to the room, not wanting to disturb him the three of you stayed quiet, the swords man putting you in bed and laying next to you while Sanji got in the other side pulling the blankets over you. The cook leans in and places his lips on yours caressing your face with his hand as he moved closer but still trying not to disturb Chopper. Zoro places his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck leading kisses up to your ear. The past few weeks you've been too tired to show affection the way you used too, so they hoped now things will go back to normal, you hoped so too not wanting to neglect them. Pulling away from Sanji with a smile Zoro's fingers pull your chin to look behind you at him. Leaning over you slightly he kisses your lips keeping a firm grip of your chin as he moves his lips with yours. The swords man lets you go letting you lay your head on the pillow and get comfy while Sanji leans over and pulls Zoro in for a kiss. The kiss turns into a make out, their tongues fighting for control a little, but they both enjoy it pulling away to lay down with you and hold you close. That nights was the best sleep you have ever had, no creatures, no death and no fear.

[bucknastysbabe]

Just Like You

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,470

Tags: Targaryen!Reader, Aemond’s twin, Everyone Has Issues, Criston you dirty creeper you, Violence and war, Aegon is still an idiot, the princess is batshit, pnv!sex, blood play, rough sex, age difference, power play

A/N: He’s a deeply flawed and dark individual and I wanted to play on that. Good ole hypoCriston my love. Criston art by @CheRo_Art on reddit :)

Criston watched and advised the princess while she ran through drills on a dummy, blunted tourney sword moving in quick jabs. She had already mastered archery and maneuvering in close combat. For a girl, she was just as fierce as her twin Aemond.

Although she lacked that calculative coldness that he held. The princess was hot headed and loose of tongue, quick to shoot a cutting barb. Her braided hair shone like pale beaten gold in the sun.

“Plant your feet, lest you’ll get knocked over,” he said.

She snarled and did so, hitting the dummy with a loud ‘thwack’. Criston’s lips involuntarily turned up. The princess was a good fighter and craved to be the best. Alicent or her Septa used to drag the girl from the yard howling. The queen allowed her daughter to train under him when it became apparent Aegon would rather waste away in his cups.

She’d grown from a lanky girl into a woman before Criston knew it. She was leanly muscled and leggy with sharp features. The spitting image of her twin, the princess carried long straight hair like Aemond. She twisted it into braids to keep it out of the way.

She paused to take a swig out of the wine skin, wiping sweat off of her forehead. Her purple eyes were focused on him, frighteningly intense. Nothing he wasn’t used to. Criston hummed, “What’s on your mind, princess?” Her braids swayed when she stretched in a half-circle.

“When will I get to fight you, Ser Criston?”

He laughed while her features grew pinched.

“This is not a jest ser.”

He leaned against a wooden fence, sizing the young woman up. Clanking of swords echoed in the background, Aemond himself unleashing a barrage on a knight. She held her ground, defensively crossing sinewy arms. He shrugged, “Fine then. How do you think you’ll fare against the morningstar?”

“Bring it Cole.”

He sauntered to his weapons and pulled the familiar spiked weapon out, giving it a twirl. Grabbing a shield he turned to her expectant gaze, eyes flashing with excitement. He shot, “Go on girl.” Her eyes narrowed expectantly— Criston knew every weakness by now.

They circled around each other, her on the defense. He was proud of that, emphasizing to the Princess that she needed to wait for an opening and parry them down. But that was for the average man, Criston was aware he was no average man.

He lazily whipped the morning star around, drawing closer. The Targaryen huffed in annoyance, holding herself at arm’s length. She spat, “C’mon with it!” He gave a crooked smirk in return watching her scarred knuckles whiten in anger. She was growing impatient with his lazy circles.

With a cry she launched forward with a downstroke of the sword, Criston easily blocking it and striking at her side. She parried the blow with her shield and struck again. He stated, “You will wear yourself down princess.”

“I’m tired of waiting!”

Aemond had stopped his training to watch with an amused smirk. He stood imposingly, eye flickering around their spar. She shifted the sword up, batting the morning star backward. Criston punched the shield forward to her open shoulder, sending her stumbling.

“Don’t open yourself up like that.”

She grimaced in silent rage, holding the shield in a more protective place. He parried two more jabs and swung down on her shield with a deafening crack. She held ground and stepped back to gather herself. He taunted, “Let’s go then, thought you were itching for a fight.”

She hissed and attacked again, this time landing a smart blow to his side. Criston winced and clashed the spiked ball around her sword, the chain wrapping around the iron blade. He pulled, sending the instrument flying. She cried in surprise and bashed her shield against his own, staggering the knight.

Criston sent the spike down in an arc, cracking the wood of her shield. He demanded, “Yield.” She shook her head and tried again, the wood splintering up even more. The Kingsguard repeated, “Yield before the shield breaks and your face is torn.”

She threw the broken thing down in frustration, tears welling in her dark eyes. The princess growled, “That was awful.” She paced over to the water, slugging some down. Criston watched as she pounded her fist against the unforgiving wood, face not indicating the pain she inflicted. The wild princess had a strange habit of that, said it focused her mind.

As a result, once fair skin was constantly mottled with scarring and open sores. It reminded him of Alicent’s picked raw nails, the mutilation an outlet for their roiling inner emotions. He strode over to her heaving frame, placing an arm on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off petulantly and hissed, “I don’t need your pity, Ser Criston.” He shook his head and praised the girl, “You did great. Do remember you’re sparring with a vetted member of the Kingsguard and Marcher skirmishes.”

Wine colored eyes bore into him with heat. He shoved down a memory of another’s fiery purple eyes with a bob of his throat. Clapping interrupted the stand off. Aemond approached with a smirk. He drawled, “Good fighting sister. You’ll be a force when war comes to our door.”

She grumbled, “I hope so. I’d like to not be stuck on Skysinger for every battle.”

Aemond tilted his head, “I’m sure Skysinger would enjoy seeing her rider fighting too.”

She gave a smile to her brother— more of a humorless baring of teeth. Criston noted she internally weighed herself down with duty and excelling in what would be a man’s endeavors. Filling in for Aegon’s shirking of anything worthwhile. He wondered if the serious young woman ever loosened the constant tightness in her shoulders.

She said, “I’m going to wash up now. Thank you for your guidance Ser Criston.”

He watched her stalk away, a peculiar feeling in his chest. Part of him wanted to see the princess covered in the filth of battle, bloodlust fully awakened. Cole’s waning moral side wanted to stash her in a tower and keep the princess safe. He knew better with a dragon like her. Couldn’t be put down. She craved a warrior’s life, idolizing the great Visenya like a god of old. He wouldn’t deny the Princess that. Especially with the king on his deathbed and plans stirring. He didn’t have time to dwell on silly feelings for now.

Days Later

Criston was tired. Aegon was to be crowned this morning, as was his birthright. The whore Rhaenyra could burn in seven hells for all he cared. He knew Aegon could be manageable under guidance, down deep the young man craved love and acceptance above all else. Criston would be the guidance he needed. Otto was weak.

Aemond was pissed after the escapades this morning, Erryk escaping like a coward to lick the Black’s boots. The blonde paced around the chambers, face screwed up in thought. His twin was perched on a table, legs rudely spread under her dress. She picked at her nails with a knife. Her blonde hair was combed and pulled back into intricate braids.

Criston felt she did not look right in the green samite dress— leggings and thick boots fit the younger sister more. She too looked uncomfortable, unused to the finery draped on her warrior’s build.

Aemond ranted, “How are we to make a powerful statement when he’s still drunk and weeping?”

“Should’ve let the sot run off to Essos,” the princess japed, still focused on her nails.

Aemond paused, giving his twin a withering look. He deadpanned, “The fool would die within a fortnight.” The knight chided the two, “Do not speak of your future king like that. He’s sobering up and we will all enjoy the day.” The princess sucked her teeth, rolling a bruised shoulder. The prince returned to his pacing.

He leveled the twins with a look, “Best get to the training yard soon after, there’s a war coming.”

She grinned. Aemond’s lips cruelly twisted.

Weeks later

Duskendale was in ruin. They had thoroughly routed the port town. Lord Gunthor Darklyn was beheaded. Aegon and his sister bathed the streets in dragon flame. Criston couldn’t forget the sight of her pale braids flying in the wind as she cracked her whip on Skysinger and howled, “Dracarys!”

Aegon remained on dragonback while the princess unleashed Skysinger to feast on the town while she cut down foes on foot with glee, blood painting her pale features scarlet. Even whilst giving orders and fighting, Criston could see the blood lust in her eyes.

Now they camped outside of the burning mess of the town, gathering for the march to Rook’s Rest. In the hastily drawn grand tent, the Hand looked over the map of the seat of Lord Staunton and the surrounding areas. Aegon was celebrating their win— slinging Arbor red around with a busty maid in his lap. He slurred, “My dear ‘alf sis’ser will send aid to Lord Staun-ton and we’ll take that dragon out the sky like Aem’ did to lil’ Luke!”

The princess snapped, “If you’re going to behave like a Flea Bottom lecher get out of the tent! What will your precious Sunfyre do if it’s the Blood Wyrm or the Red Queen, hm?”

Aegon blinked dumbly.

“Daemon and Rhaenys have twice the experience and their mounts are older than ours you lackwit!”

The princess hissed, jerking her shoulder at Criston, “Lord Hand we are at war and our King is lit up like Oldtown!”

Aegon of course couldn’t come up with a response, cheeks pinking in embarrassment. He murmured, “I’ll be in my own tent then, fucking bitch.” Criston sighed, rubbing his forehead, “I’ll come get you later my king, enjoy the victory. Everyone is dismissed until the morn.” Criston was glad of Aegon’s decent ability to slink away and rage elsewhere. Non-confrontational.

The princess scoffed in indignation, mouth hung open.

Criston jabbed a finger in her direction, “Not you, princess.”

The other lords and knights murmured, one japing about the princess’ balls of Valyrian steel. As the last lord filtered out, he inclined his head to the map. She stalked over, still clad in her armor and rough leather emblazoned with the golden dragon of her brother. The princess dug her bloodstained hands into the worn table.

Criston inquired, “Since you know so much, what do you suggest my princess?”

Merlot orbs peered at him, lids squinted in suspicion. She stepped closer into the Hand’s personal space, smelling of her house’s motto. Fire and Blood. The blonde declared, “They know we’re here, even my idiot brother knows that,” the knight frowned as she continued, “Ambush. Send Aemond on Vhagar, I’ll keep watch back at the Red Keep. They won’t expect that.”

She had a good idea, along the lines of what he was thinking too. The knight japed, “How surprising of you to offer up a battle to Aemond and Aegon. You make our king upset as is,” he gripped her arm roughly, “And you will stop doing that. We must remain united.”

The princess held his intense gaze, breath heaving. She was pissed at his admonishment. The girl hissed, “I wait for a greater win. Aegon can have Daemon or one of the Velaryons. I want the bitch.” Her aquiline nose almost touched Criston’s own when she said, “Maybe Aemond will be the only one to return and we shall have a better king.”

The knight twisted her arm behind her back, bending his princess roughly across the rickety table. She yowled in anger, unable to move, a whimper of pain escaping. Cole threatened in her bejeweled ear, “Speak ill on your King again and you’ll go home to the black cells without a tongue, dear girl.”

The princess wriggled against Criston’s strong hold, grunting with effort. Her toned ass rubbed against the Hand’s own breeches, causing a reaction he knew was brewing. She spat, “Let me go, you know me to be right, he’s worthless! Aemond and I were raised correctly under you!” He only used his other hand to shove her cheek into the map.

Criston swore, “You’re too keyed up to think rationally— the heat of the battle has your thinking warped. Always were a bloodthirsty, hateful one weren’t you? That’s why they couldn’t find you a suitor.”

He grinned at the helpless writhing, her cheeks a delightful red, tears at the corners of her long lashes. She weakly retorted, “Says the one who killed old Beesbury and beat a man’s head in at a damn wedding. Is that why Rhaenyra scorned you as the men do me?”

Rage filled Criston’s chest at her jab. His cock swelled with blood at the exchange of barbs— her relentless rutting to get free. The princess made another weak noise, eye’s frantically darting around. She tried again, “Let me go, Cole!”

“No. You need a lesson. Obviously I didn’t teach you to shut your godsdamned mouth when speaking to superiors. I’m disappointed, truly. Spitting such vile and unholy things.” He twisted her arm a bit further, eliciting another cry. She struggled more, the fight slowly dying.

Soon the princess grew limp under his pin, panting breathlessly. Criston hummed, “Good girl. You do have ears after all,” he loosened the pinning hand on her head to cradle that lovely pale hair. The girl whined softly, eyes clenching shut in embarrassment.

“What do you say, girl?”

A soft reply was his answer.

“M’sorry. Lord Hand.”

She was still limp under his body, lips closed up now. The princess swallowed thickly at the feeling of Criston’s heavy cock slotted between her ass cheeks. He huffed in laughter, “I don’t know why bad girls like you always get me going. You bring out the worst in me, princess.”

She seemed broken down, mewling another apology. So the Dornishman let go of her arm and allowed her some space. He felt that the fiery woman had calmed some, maybe wanted a fuck now. He sure did— maiden bless his twisted soul.

Next thing the man hit the ground with a ‘thunk’ and clanging of armor. Cole’s damn favorite princess straddled his strong hips, both hands tightly curled around his throat. She grinned, spittle flying from clenched teeth, “I don’t know why bad knights get my cunt soaked but here we are, Ser.” She tightened her grip, Criston scrabbling at the crazed Targaryen’s gauntlets.

“You’re a dirty man, Ser Criston, getting hot over the girl you’ve sworn to protect since birth.”

Using his strong core and legs the older man flipped her onto the ground. On top, he ripped her hands from his bruising throat, cock ready to bust. She wrapped long, lean legs around his waist and rasped, “Fuck me, Ser Cole, take my maidenhead. Spill my blood.”

In his eyes she had never looked so lovely. Blood stains, wild braids, manic eyes, and a wide grin. He ground against her clothed cunt and grunted, “You’ll take my cock and not shed a tear. I didn’t raise you to be a weeping maid.” Her eyes narrowed, guttural moan erupting from a pale throat. He scolded, “Should’ve known you were acting, mean little bitch.”

Their lips and teeth gnashed together in a feral manner— grunts and moans as two alphas fought for dominance. She pulled and tugged at his armor, knowing the ins and outs from a small stint of squire work. The whole time she nipped and licked into his curved lips, drawing blood. The princess moaned at the metallic taste, eyes rolling up in her head.

Criston pulled back to yank off his loosened armor. Little by little his olive skin was revealed to her purple eyes. He cursed, “Start undressing princess.” She arched her hips up for Criston to shuck down her leather leggings and pulled at her jerkin and mail. More barbs were exchanged as their covers were slung around.

The former kingsguard laid out his cloak for her body, not wanting to rut in the dirt like complete animals. She ran sharp nails teasingly through his chest hair and abs. Criston was mesmerized by her milky thighs and pert teats, milky white and tinged pink. She was lean, but statuesque and just as gorgeous as the maiden intended.

“Fuck- you’re a sight,” he murmured.

Ever impatient, the princess pulled Criston’s body flush to hers, moaning excitedly at the feeling of his hot prick against her weeping cunt.

She rubbed her small breasts against his broad chest, lashes fluttering erotically. The blonde chanted, “Fuck me ser, fuck me, make me bleed, c’mon.” She grew frantic, seizing his lips with desperate whines.

He tried to calm her frenzy by grabbing her sinewy thighs and securing them around his waist. He groaned lowly at the feeling, licking into her sloppy open-mouthed kisses. Criston promised, “I’ll split you open princess, fuck you good, gods forgive us.”

“Fuck the gods,” she spat, grabbing his slickened cock and guiding Criston to her entrance. Once again the man knew he was cunt-struck, unable to resist, thrusting brutally into her heat with a drawn-out groan of her name. He silently prayed for forgiveness at the sight of her virgin cunt split open and bloody.

“Fuck yes, don’t stop,” the princess growled, sinking her teeth into the meat of his neck. Criston snapped his hips in rapid succession, chasing a reckless high. The princess writhed and cried loud enough for the whole camp to hear. His hips stuttered when the blonde nipped his ear and breathed, “So mean, just like I always dreamed Ser. Choke me.”

He wrapped his tanned hand around her slim neck, almost encircling it, like a pretty necklace. Criston moaned, “Gods above- stop it or I’ll end this faster than we want.” He squeezed at the pumping vessels on the column of soft throat, slaps of his body meeting hers echoing in the shoddy tent. She arched up into him, gouging her nails in his tense back.

Cole’s mouth hung open, groaning on every slick pull of her pussy, all caution thrown to the wind. She rasped, “Hurts so good, so good to me, make me bleed!” She whined and squeezed her strong thighs around him, meeting Criston’s brutal rutting fully. Her face was grew red and blotchy from his grip, so the brunette pressed a little more. Dug a little deeper, moved his thick fingers to play at her button.

The princess convulsed, bloody lips gaping, eyes rolling back into her head. She couldn’t pull any air in, Criston holding his princess down and pinching her clit until her slim lips were purpling.

She sucked in breath, a wet gasp, shaking and coming apart with hoarse sobbing. She cried his name, dragging more scores of blood across the knight’s back. Wave after wave of tightening pulses and slick surrounding Criston’s prick. He couldn’t risk it regretfully.

He pulled out of her sweet, tight, perfectly ruined cunt and splattered his seed on her scarred belly. The princess’s brows were drawn together as she sniveled and gulped in dramatic wet breaths. Criston rolled to his side, tucked next to the crying thing. He pushed back her sweaty brow, tilting a sharp jaw towards him.

Criston whispered, “Why do you cry princess? I will never speak of it again if you wish.”

She shook her head, shrugging. Her loyal protector stroked and coddled the Targaryen until she seemed more lucid. They laid together, sweat cooling in the summer air. Dim noises of outside happenings echoed. Criston would have to dismiss any and all rumors tomorrow. They wouldn’t dare say anything to his face or possibly face the wroth of the mercurial twin.

“I think I felt something other than rage for once. I don’t know, Ser Cole,” she admitted in her usual raspy voice.

“You can call me Criston,” he said.

“No. You’re my knight, always will be,” she sucked over the bruised bite marks over the man’s shoulder, “I trust you. You make me feel like I’ve done something other than be the spare cunt to sell off.” His lips curled up at the blonde’s words, giving her a nip on the thin skin of her collarbone. Criston swallowed down the guilt and deep seeded satisfaction boiling in his gut.

This was war. No time for semantics. If he wanted to fuck the insane princess after a battle then who was to say no? Aegon certainly wouldn’t and he was the King. Alicent kept in the keep, out of the way. Criston sighed, “Are you sure you want to sit out the siege at Rook’s Rest?”

“Someone’s got to watch the Keep,” she intertwined her long legs with his own, “We will celebrate the victory when you get back. Bring a head on a spike for me, will you?” The Lord Hand nodded dutifully, promising to bring her a dragon skull. When Criston finally put Rhaenyra in the ground he’d marry his princess, he decided.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

KEEP MY HEART CHAPTER IV

a/n;; i hate iskra so much almdofnmdoiajnid

WARNINGS;; spoilers for heir of fire, soft manon (not even a warning but omg), bl00d, angst to comfort

the day of the selection had finally arrived and manon was eager. titus was hers. she had been talking about it with ayla the night before. she could imagine manon flying with him, but she had a bad feeling, something was going to happen, something was off. 

forty three wiches were gathered on the platform waiting for the wyverns.

the three matrons would draw sticks if more than one claim was made on a mount, and ayla knew titus was going to be the most claimed wyvern. standing by her side, manon was getting more anxious as time passed. 

she looked at the wyvern who was already chained to the wall, ready for the other wyverns to beat him up, and the wyvern looked up at her. the magic didn’t exist anymore, but she could have sworn she felt something different in him, that this wyvern, half the size of the others, was special.

one after another, the wyverns were brought and claimed, asterin claimed a female. the fiercest one and cunning eyed. it suits her ayla thought. a knowing look between her and manon. she felt petrah blueblood getting closer before the others, thanks to her fae blood. petrah gave ayla a nod and went straight to manon’s side, a soft snarled from asterin was the only warning.

“waiting for titus, aren’t you?”

“and if i am?”

“i’d rather you have him than iskra.”

and then she tensed as she felt iskra closer, right behind them. a little squeeze on her hand was the only reaction from manon as she was still looking at the tunnel. 

“plotting already?” iskra teased. ayla was going to answer when the blueblood heir said as she lifted her chin “i think titus would make a good mount for manon”.

titus thundered out, snapping to the men there. he wheeled on the bait beast, striking him with his barbed tail. ayla flinched a little. he was a beast, utterly cruel. and titus struck again. again. again. at that moment manon knew titus knew where to hit, where it would cause the most agony. a whip sounded but he kept pacing in front of the bait beast.

“if you want him so badly,” iskra whispered, “why don’t you go get him?” 

and she pushed her. 

“MANON!!” ayla shouted followed by asterin and she watched as manon slammed into the ground. she was going to the pit, but a pair of arms stopped her from going, and sorrel dragged her down to the floor. “LEAVE ME DAMN IT” but the matron gave the order that no one was going to the pit, and she could only watch manon and how titus turned toward her. pure fear. that was what she felt. the wyvern was between her and the gate but he had his dark eyes pinned on her. she needed to run, she needed to get out of there. even with wind cleaver she didn’t have any chance. but titus was looking above her, and behind her… the bait beast. the wyvern was looking at manon with hunger, but she knew that the emotion was for titus, not her.

so manon twisted to her feet and ran.

ayla watched as manon ran to the open gate, just as the little wyvern slammed his tail against titu’s head. 

and the fight began. tails and claws. but everyone knew titus would win. he was stronger, bigger. the bait beast dodged the tail by slamming its own down atop it, but couldn’t escape the jaws that latched on to its neck. he couldn’t get free. and manon ran for titus and brought wind cleaver down upon his tail. 

ayla’s heart was beating so fast she knew everyone could hear it. she watched as the bait snapped titu’s throat. they all watched titu’s dead body. 

men were rushing in with spears and swords and whips, and the bait beast growled.

manon held up a hand. and again, the world stopped. 

manon, eyes still upon the beast, said, “he’s mine.”

at that, a sob broke through ayla and she felt to the ground.

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abraxos. that was how manon named her wyvern. 

when manon came, she was filthy and her ankle was wrenched. ayla ran to manon, crushing her with her arms. “gods manon, i-” she couldn’t talk, and she felt manon’s arm’s on her shoulder’s. she then looked where the yellowlegs heir was being held by asterin. “looks like i lost my footing” she simply said.

that night, in the mess hall, ayla and manon looked as iskra whipped asterin in front of everyone. apparently it was her fault manon fell in the pit. and asterin didn’t scream. and after that, her grandmother called her. she had slapped her in the face and told her she had humiliated her and every blackbeak by choosing abraxos, but ayla knew there was some kind of bond between abraxos and manon. not like the one they had, but she had known the moment he had looked at her that he was different. a warrior indeed. 

later that night, ayla was perched on manon’s lap, her face hidden on her neck, while manon comforted her, her hands stroking her back.  

“i nearly lost you today, manon. i couldn’t think straight. all i could think was that i needed to go to the pit and… i don’t want to lose you manon.” she moved away from her neck so she could watch her golden eyes. “i can’t lose you manon, do you hear me?? i. can’t. you’re all that i have, you’re the only one i have.” she took her face between her hands “so hear me out manon. don’t you dare lose this game and don’t you dare die during it.”

manon rested her forehead with hers. “i’m going to win and and you're not going to lose me” she kissed her softly. it was rare, so rare that manon was soft. even with her, she was chaos, a storm. she was passionate, her kisses were heated everytime their lips met. but know, manon blackbeak knew she had nearly died, and also knew that her mate wouldn't have gotten over it. so ayla followed the kiss, while manon lay her down on their bed, and made her remember that she was going nowhere. 

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

“why’s he curled up like that?” manon asked the man. 

she looked inside the pen where abraxos was. ayla at her side, and asterin lurked in the shadows, was monitoring everything. she wasn’t going to let manon out of her sight. 

“suspect it’s ’cause he’s never had a pen to himself. not this big, anyway.”

“where did they keep him before?” asked ayla. the man looked at her from head to toe. lust reflected in his eyes as he took the sight of her breasts, her waist, her legs… ayla noticed the look and with a movement of her wrist, her iron nails snapped, a wicked smile displayed on her face. and a proud smile appeared on manon’s face. a squeeze to her waist. good job witchling.

the man swallowed three times before answering. “with the other baiters in the sty. he’s the oldest of the baiters, you know. survived the pits and the stys. but that doesn’t mean he’s suitable for you.”

“if i wanted your opinion on his suitability, i’d ask for it,” manon said, eyes still on abraxos as she approached the bars. “how long to get him in the skies?”

“could be days or weeks or months. could be never.” 

ayla watched abraxos uncurl a little so he could see between his wings. and again, ayla thought that manon had made the best decision.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

tagging;; @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @hellwantfuckme @shadowdaddies @callmeblaire

[mdzs-is-rotting-my-brain]

Wangxian Mermay 2023

Day X: The Hunt.

War was a human invention.

Their blood, and fights, and bodies filled the rivers and shores. Providing food for every creature that came across them. The natural world did not hold their beliefs, they did not care for things such as 'soul' or 'respect'. The Cycle was what dominated. Everything was a part of nature.

Humans just believed themselves exempt.

They cursed when they found their half eaten brethren, tossed ash and perfumed soap into the water, spiked nets with barbs, and when they spotted them in the rivers, took endless pleasure in hunting them.

This time they made a mistake.

They took his son.

Wei Ying hunted them for ten days, inland through the waterways, human built dams, destroyed the traps they set to catch or slow him.

The foolish ones became his prey early on. Keeping his son chained like their four-legged hunting animals, and venturing to the water to wash or relive themselves. They fell first and tasted the worst. He tossed their bodies back on land, daring more to come to avenge their fallen, to come to him in the deep.

Unfortunately, they were smart enough to know better.

As he followed their scent and the smell of his son, he dwindled their numbers down to a scant few. He lured them to the lowlands, then waited, knowing the high tide would cut them off from the shore.

They would have been at his mercy. Had the others not come.

They smelled of winter, of freshwater and crystalline rivers, of an earth ash that stuck in the back of his throat and made him yearn for more.

He watched them drop from the sky, swords gleaming, reflecting firelight and the dark waters as they fed the land the blood of their enemies.

"The reports said there would be more." One of them said, smooth and even toned. His voice did not grate against Wei Ying's ears like so many did.

"Mn." The other hummed.

He stood against the firelight, his white edged in the orange glow. His dark hair hung straight and thick against pale skin that smelled of that scent. Wei Ying wanted more, he wanted that flesh against him, he wanted to breathe it in. He wanted to hear that melodious voice speak to him.

Wei Ying swam closer, intent upon finding his son, and seeing more of this human if he could.

"Wangji!" The other shouted.

His son screamed, he darted around grabbing hands, heading for the dark river.

Wei Ying leapt from the water, coiling around his son, holding his trembling body. He snapped at the hand reaching for his son just catching the edge of his sleeve.

His hearts beat a drum in his ears. The clothes were smooth, like an eel, between his teeth.

His eyes. Oh. His eyes. Bright like every day of sun breaking over the waves. Like the glow of fish in the rivers. Like the human made fire behind him.

Wei Ying released the sleeve, pulling back, holding his son close.

The humans stood upon the wet soil, staring at him with blades bathed in blood, the reek of it permeating the air, mixing with the thick ion of the incoming storm.

"He…is yours?" The one said, his voice resounding through Wei Ying's ears, his longer fingered hand gesturing towards his son.

"He is mine." Wei Ying stroked his sons hair, smoothing it away from the bruise on his temple. His son hiccuped a sob, pressing himself closer.

"Shh baobei, shh, I am here." He kissed the bruise, humming as he rubbed circles around the skin. The bruise began to glow gentle from below, spreading across his skin until it was gone, only healthy, unblemished skin remained.

"That was.." the one said, he handed a dark cloth to the other, putting his blade away. He looked from the bruise to Wei Ying. Folding his arms, he bowed at the waist. "I am Lan Xichen of Gusu Lan, have you heard of us?"

Wei Ying tipped his head.

There were stories sung years ago, one of their own who had been captured and forced to stay. She found her escape, but not after she bore two children. Wei Ying had never met her, Qing-jie had, when she came from tending to her, she always smelled of…

Wei Ying bent closer, breathing in the man's scent. Earthy, spicy, it stuck in the back of his throat.

"I haven't." He said "There have been no formal introductions made since before you." He nodded to Lan Xichen, "Until now, that is. I am called Wei Ying."

"Wei-gongzi, have you been hunting the Wen's? We noticed their decimated numbers."

Wei Ying held his son, kissing the top of his head, "They took what was mine. I had every right." He coiled tighter around his son, bearing his teeth. He dared these men to challenge him, their ends would be as swift as the dead he left behind him.

Lan Xichen held up his hands, "We mean no offense. I was just…the rivers are laid with traps and snare nets to prevent Jiaoren coming this far inland."

Wei Ying scoffed, "We have lived before your forefathers, when you weren't even a thought yet. There is nothing you can do to keep us from where we desire to be."

Lan Xichen shared a look with the other, Lan…Wangji perhaps was his name. Wei Ying only knew him by smell, earth and sea, sunset and spice.

They shared a look for a long time before Lan…Wangji looked back at him, bowing as Lan Xichen had before.

"I am Lan Zhan, courtesy: Wangji. My xiongzhang would like to ask for your help in our efforts against the Wen."

The Wen's were not a singular threat. They knew of the Jiaoren. Qing-jie and A-Ning had worked in his castle before he wanted to conquer the world. They knew his threat would not end at the shore. Conversations amongst elders and Shifters had been tense and long these last few months. Wei Ying was ambivalent towards any decisions made, he knew he would likely be held back until the last minute.

Until they had taken his son.

"We have noticed Wen Rohan's movements. We know he threatens all of us. Not just those that choose the land. However, I must return home, to tell my jiejie that my son is safe." He looked at Lan Zhan, meeting those golden eyes. His hearts racing, the only other time he felt this excited was when his son was born.

"Come with me. I can tell you how the elders decide to help."

"Wangji." Lan Xichen put a hand on his brothers arm, tightening his hold.

It pleased Wei Ying to see Lan Zhan struggle to pulled his eyes away, he bowed to Lan Xichen,

"I will not be gone long." He put a hand over the one on his arm. "I promise to return to you shortly."

"Wangji." There was a wealth of meaning in that single word. 'stay with me' 'be safe' 'don't get hurt's and finally 'come back quickly'

Wei Ying heard it all because he had said it all before. He nuzzled the top of his son's head, pressing kisses into his hair, smoothing the rotten stench of humans away with his own. Truthfully he hardly smelled better, and he would rather his own smell of human-choked riverways on his son, than the reek of them.

"Are you well A-Yuan?"

Tucked in his tail, wrapped up like a octopus does its pretty, A-Yuan blinked his pretty eyes open, smiling at him, "Yes diedie, I'm okay."

"Wei…Ying."

Wei Ying looked up, blinking water from his eyes. It had begun to rain without him noticing.

Being around this man was dangerous, between him and A-Yuan, he forgot all surroundings, made no notice of anything except them.

"You will come with me, yes?"

He nodded, a single polite action.

Wei Ying smiled, "Good, I'm sure your mother would like to see you as well." He turned, pointing to the end of the island, "Meet me over there, we will travel together."

His arm was grabbed, he was not pulled, only held.

Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen had wide eyes, staring at him. Faces pale and mouths hanging open.

He looked between them, turning back around to face them, he laid a hand over the one on his arm.

"You didn't know, did you?"

"We…were told she had…passed " Lan Xichen said. A tiny frown, "Are you sure it's her?"

"You smell like her." Wei Ying bent close to Lan Zhan, breathing him in. He could hear the rushing of blood through his veins, how his heart pounded with Wei Ying so close.

He let his lips drift across his cheek as he pulled away.

"Will you still come?"

"Wangji…the war." Lan Xichen sounded torn between his personal desire, and duty.

Wei Ying did not envy him.

"I am going to ask the Jiaoren for help." He took Lan Xichen's hand, "I will write often. You will know if I am safe."

"I will protect him as I do my son." Wei Ying stroked A-Yuan's hair.

Lan Xichen closed his eyes, taking in a breath. The water was lapping at their ankles now, he couldn't not be aware of it.

"Be safe." He looked between them "keep each other safe. Write to me. I will pray that the Jiaoren are willing to help."

He pulled his sword from his hip. It hummed a song Wei Ying could not name, but resonated down his chest, settling into him like the songs of whales, or dolphins, or the way that sharks hum when they're close.

Lan Xichen stepped onto it, flying above the carnage, and away from his brother.

Wei Ying looked back to find Lan Zhan's eyes already in him.

He smiled, "Shall we go?"

Started out as a sort of dark!Wei Wuxian hunting down Wen's who kidnapped his son. In true mirmb fashion it manifested itself into something else completely.

Was it a good something?

[oq-der-na-telha]

Percy's redesign (What I've had so far, because I'm tired of drawing)

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First sketch (initial idea)

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Hair ideas

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I haven't finished those sketches yet, but I took his eye off 'cause why not- (That's why I need hair ideas 😭)

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Tattoo ideas

(There are more, but I haven't drawn them yet)

Other tattoos that I didn't sketch yet:

—Sword or Archor (I haven't planned a place yet)

—Barbed wire (Probably in the arms)

—Meduza Tattoo (Arm, hand or leg)

(I still need more ideas)

The tattoos I sketched:

— "Art. 18" (Article 18 of the penal code: Manslaughter)

— Croissant and coffee (Just the things Percy loves the most, don't have much deep meaning lol)

Things I plan to change/add in Percy

—SH and Su1cid3 attempt scars (I'm afraid of triggering people, so I don't know if I should really put it)

—Removal of one eye (In the story, Mikael (possessed by Kahunna) will gouge out Percy's eye as a type of torture or "punishment")

—Curly/dreadlocked hair (Ik black people can have straight hair but ehhhhhhh, I'm tired of drawing Percy with that same boring default Polo hair)

—Thinking about giving him: Piercings (but yeahh idk where-)

—His size down there- cause wtf 16 inches is too much- Seriously, what did I have in my head to make him so gigantic? 😭

—Height (probably- bc he's 289cm tall (9'5 ft) as far as I remember, I'll change his height to 280 cm-)

—Hair length (I'll probably make it shorter)

—Color palette (I'm going to make his colors a little more vivid, he's too gray...)

Yeah I've run out of ideas, if you have any more suggestions, please let me know in the comments-

((random change I made, now, Nayara (HC character) is canonically Percy's and Mikael's Younger sister))

[acertainmoshke]

15 for injury prompts?

Am I doing a variation on the one I JUST did? Yes, yes I am because this never gets old.

15. “This is going to hurt, okay?"

Story: Halara book 2

Warnings: general blood and pain

Blood splattering the snow. Snow everywhere around them, beneath them, stretching into the distance. They should probably feel colder. That was probably not a good sign.

Then again, maybe they were distracted because that was…their blood…splattering the snow beside them. Aryel’s head swam. An ambush. They had been ambushed…arrows blotting out the sky and enemies with swords…

It was too quiet. They had to see how many of their people had survived! Their own wounds could wait.

They managed to sit up before the full blast of pain hit, shooting out from their chest like lightning. Breathing felt wrong, sharp. They made the mistake of glancing down and the front of their jacket was too soaked in blood to guess how many times they’d been hit. The long shaft of one of the new barbed arrows stuck straight out of their chest. Their head swam and they couldn’t get a full breath and then the world was tilting and snow puffed up around them as they fell.

It was their job to check on the others. They had to get up. But their second attempt was even less successful. The slightest move sent agony screaming through their entire body. They might have cried out.

They probably had, because a moment later Etlin was kneeling next to them. That was someone still alive, then, though not unharmed; they were holding their sword arm tight against their body and stumbling a little in the snow. Breathing hard as they reached out to pull at Aryel’s jacket and inspect their wounds underneath.

They weren’t proud of the way their voice shook, the way they could barely force it past their lips. “How…bad…?”

“You’ll be fine.” But Etlin's voice was tight, their brow furrowed in concern.

“Liar…”

“No. You will. It just might not feel like it for a while. I’ll take care of you, I swear.” Etlin was so sincere, so loyal, so desperate…it was that more than anything that convinced Aryel they were going to die.

Etlin took a breath, nearly as shaky as Aryel’s ragged gasps. “You lost a lot of blood but the bleeding’s almost stopped now. I’ll get you back to camp, but I have to get the arrow out before it does more damage. This is going to hurt, ok?”

“Tonic? Or whiskey?” Their voice was no more than a whisper.

“I don’t have anything, I’m sorry. I’ll try to do this fast.”

Aryel let their eyes drift shut and waited several long seconds. There was no warning. They had thought the pain already filling their body was as much as they could handle, but this was so much worse. Ice and burning heat shot through them simultaneously and they couldn’t think of anything but needing it to stop. They were definitely screaming, echoing around the silent slope.

The steps of whatever Etlin was doing blended together into heat and cold and stop. By the time it was over, Aryel was startled to notice half-frozen tears on their cheeks. They didn’t bother opening their eyes, lying still in the snow and waiting to pass out. Their whole body felt like it was floating, it couldn’t be long. The agony, dulled again to a relatively bearable level, was a sharp contract to Etlin’s gentle hand wiping away their tears and tucking strands of loose hair back from their face.

[faelune-home]

FFXIVWrite 2024 #20: Duel

(A/n: Oh hey, I finally did another role questline that wasn't the magic one aha. Just a brief one of Estinien having to deal with Landenel the doof.

And I do mean brief, I'm glad I didn't end up close to 2k on one of these again, cos I keep thinking these should be beefier to account for the rewrites and new perspectives, but also...a lot of writing. I'll need to get used to just embracing these briefer interactions, they're still valid for adding dynamics here.

This technically also skips ahead part of the melee quest where they initially try to negociate with the Sahagins being turned, but part of me wanted to get to interacting with the CoH for Estinien enrichment lol. I can always backtrack to the Sahagin moment later.

Word count: 695)

They had their ragtag group of retired mercs ready to begin their respective duties into dealing with the threats of the blasphemy and the Leviathan summoning. Estinien himself had been placed with the blasphemy hunters due to his own skill set, as well as an aside from Fhara and Wheiskaet that the group could do with an extra eye to mind them.

Fhara herself was prepared to join the reconnaissance team until a call from elsewhere meant she had to leave them to it.

As it was then for the main combat force, they were all left waiting for orders. And for Landenel and Brayflox, that meant training.

Brayflox was already an interesting one, having made it clear she was better suited with her explosives, but even she had a stubby little short sword in hand to practise moves and take swipes at a rusted bucket for her practice. Not much Estinien could offer for assistance.

Landenel had already made himself known as a showboater eager to sink his teeth into the action, but for all his boasting of bloodthirst and desiring battle, his jabs against the training dummy betrayed his deterioration. His stance was that of a classically trained Gridanian lancer, but he was slow and sluggish, clearly far too used to manning a station that never saw any real danger.

As though sensing Estinien’s eyes upon him and the mental critique going through his mind, Landenel stood up straight and leaned upon his lance, casting a sharp look at him.

“Something you wish to say, ser? You look like you have much on your mind,” he asked, tone notably barbed.

“Just minding your training, seeing if there’s anything I could offer. If you’re willing to take it,” Estinien said carefully, not wanting to provoke a fight when they were supposed to be allies. Getting injured before they were needed wouldn’t help either.

“Well, if you’re offering, why not a duel?” Landenel smirked, “After all, as you can no doubt tell, I’m rather rusty here. And you’re clearly a veteran that’s stayed on top of his skills.”

“I’d rather not, not yet at least,” Estinien responded, folding his arms, “Better to get you back up to speed before we try anything like that. If you get injured, you won’t be much use to the cause.”

That remark only caused the other's smirk to deepen into a scowl.

“You’re incapable of holding back? Or do you think me so out of practice that I couldn’t hold my own?”

“It's better for you to build up your strength against a peer of similar skill level. Such as Lady Brayflox here,” Estinien countered, gesturing with a nod to the goblin, who had stepped away from her bucket to watch their conversation. She did a little dance upon acknowledgement.

“Pshhhhh… Shkohhh… Yes! Brayflox help Landenel with stamina! Use bang boom sticks to help go zip zap to avoid danger!”

Landenel’s grimace was a picture.

“Absolutely not. I’d be better off hiking all the way back to Gridania and putting in a training request with the Wood Wailers.”

“But you can’t do that because then you betray that you’ve let yourself slip while you were meant to be on guard duty,” Estinien said, already noticing the pinched expression on the other man as he called his character exactly.

“In mine own defence, Camp Tranquil is rather appropriately named,” Landenel grumbled beneath his breath. Estinien ignored his statement and marched up, lighting kicking the supporting lance from under him. It wasn’t enough to send Landenel sprawling to the ground, but it made him stumble, having to catch himself on Estinien’s armour, though he quickly righted himself again, shooting a glare back.

“I wouldn’t duel with you, but I can give you some tips. It’s still up to you to keep up with your training. We need to be ready for the first call to battle, and it could happen a sennight from now or it could happen within the next bell.”

Landenel scowled once more, glare darkening further. Then he nodded stiffly, expression morphing into that cocky smirk once more.

“Then let’s get started. Wouldn't want to be caught unawares.”

[anastachord]

wtf ao3 tags - the sequel

vampire ballet

Slap Slap Kiss

Irish Republicanism

Setting Zombies on Fire

Woke Up Gay

Autoerotic Asphyxiation

i was raised a catholic and went to religious schools so this is the time to exploit that

There isn't a tag for titties OR man titties and that's really disappointing

a sheep farm

Happy Enging

they are GAY and they are STUPID

Misue of Louisiana Slang

FEDDY FABEAR

Subway Meet-Cute

YO-HO-HO HERE WE GO BITCHES

hehe

actual chicken

nae nae swag

tossing salad

Zuho puts coins up his nose

stanky leg

the transgenderification of the ninja turtles

Improper use of OceanGate's Titan Submarine

when the sound "mmmm" is a weapon

Inappropriate use of butterflies

impending doom

that's not what windows are for

when blushing causes an existential crisis

flirting via security cameras

pretending everything is fine when it's clearly NOT

I swear to god there's a happy ending in here somewhere please believe me

Warning: reading this may require the use of a defibrillator

Inappropriate use of mayonnaise

unholy use of mayonnaise

the looming threat of a fedora

zombie chickens covered in jam

religion...???

violence against musical instruments

the mechanics of a good hug

I have been told reading this fix has curative properties, I have also been told that it has killed people

ill advised climbing

this fic is chicken noodle soup for your soul

accidental improper use of setting tablet

screams into the sun

i claim my right to remain silent your honour

I'm happy to announce that I'm back on my bullshit

Inappropriate use of tv

teeth extraction kink

mind fucking, literally

innapropriate use of a santa hat

Reader gets peeled like a grape

torture, visualize peeling a banana

improper use of a detached arm

eats a mushroom and becomes a communist

Inappropriate use of a McDonalds cup

improper use of religiously oriented yogurt

the homeless man i gave a burger to in 2017

Non con bc lamps can't consent

improper use of a wine bottle (it doesn't break)

whipped cream as lube

improper use of a decomposed finger

no children were actually kidnapped, just temporarily acquired

ovary popping like grapes

Improper use of goose

soap uses drugs and alcohol to cope with being a furry

Sharpened Bones of Brendan Urie

improper use of a swiffer wetjet

OceanGate Titan Submarine/RMS Titanic (Anthropomorphic)

Tennis, i dont know how to play tennis

Questionable anger management solutions

setting off fireworks in hands

An abundance of baby oil

submarine sandwich

the mortifying ordeal of discovering you're into bdsm while you're caught up in a political intrigue

Unacceptable use of tragedy

spoilers for the bible... i guess??

exploitation of magical swords

Bees

improper use of duct tape that would make OSHA cry

Punching your future father in law in the face as a metaphor for love

smut bit also i'm too scared to write it

ryan reynolds - Freeform

sharks dying

A walking brick of cocaine

The Curse of the Bonus Vajayjay

Refrigerator

Brief mentions of a dog in a top hat

that one song by the buttholes of whatever the fuck they're called

Sink me like one of your French girls

Biblically Incorrect

Moose

a decade-long streak of Pining is ruined by a false hickey

Tim is homophobic??

this is half smut and half roasting two thirty year old men for being fucking stupid

something that is sort of crossdressing but not really

holy shit barbed dick is already a tag, i fucking love the internet

Robbery, by a dumbass

human toilet

Abuse of gummy worms

someone please help this fish

Mentions of heterosexuality

yogurt (i can explain)

Nuns

Tim gets fucking attacked

weirdly sexual cheeseburgers

university of arkansas

Out of Character, but I'm out of fucks so it's fine

TW straight people

car seats as an expression of love

alarm clock to lovers

it's not game of thrones inspired but it's not not game of thrones inspired so

shoe licking

Inappropriate use of Logitech controllers

Decidedly non-platonic BDSM

how to create a romance epic for dummies

aggressive mutual caretaking

the usual amount of murdering characters in my fics

weirdly long talks about fnaf lore

All the men die but the boats are okay

SPOILER: it is not an egg!!

yelling at people to show you care

set in australia in my hometown but that affects literally nothing

somehow a harmonica gets involved

Top Shadow the Hedgehog

Elevator Butt

gru's noise

Accidental Uncle Acquisition

frog tie

Quantum Mechanics, but wikipedia's version, so take that with a grain of salt

a crazy amount of john mulaney reference that carries on for multiple chapters for some reason

sadist slime

questionable use of dortitos

scandalous use of musical vocabulary

swallowed alive

human on mushroom violence

misuse of whirlpool baths

sir this is a Wendy's pull up your pants

let me delulu in peace

the eternal question of who is doing the laundry

screaming into the void

somewhere ogre the rainbow

a random horse appears

Mentions of a goat

don't let your memes be dreams

shrek eats beans

Santa Claus has seen some shit

green cow milk

erotic birth

unhealthy relationship but in a spicy way

a truly pathetic amount of pining

gratuitous use of Narwhals

one sorta severed limb but not really

putting the fun in funeral

tragedy my lord

is it murder when they die themselves?

meet tired

falling in love over a coffin

dirt as a love language

Sugar Daddy Voldemort

Florida AU

Canonical Character Death, It gets better I promise, the death not the fic

what's the tag for come coming out of your nose

Tentacle Dick, actually more dolphin dick but no one needs to know what i looked up for this

if you guys KNEW my google search history right now

There are deer that are wizards that have human hands

Multiple historical events were caused by a sentient pitcher of Kool-Aid

[zaronxyz]

Snippet of Love In Paradise! Mutiny will be out tomorrow-

Aeolus twirls around Odysseus in the air, a goofy smirk on her face. She eventually lies down on her belly next to him while staying in the air, looking over his shoulder at him. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer~" Aeolus teases one final time before dropping the bag of winds right on his head.

Poseidon's form made of water stretches across the front of the ship, easily towering over it by multiple stories. His beard is rough and black as he smirks down at Odysseus' crew with his shark-like teeth. He raises his hand high above his head, a golden barbed trident appearing in it. "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves!" Poseidon lunges his arm down, driving the trident straight through Odysseus' ship.

Circe's eyes narrow as she stares down Odysseus' sword that is pointed directly at her face. She takes a step back, moving her hand to the vanity table and grabbing a gold dagger from it. Her lips form a deep frown as she speaks, "One wrong move and you're done for. Anything I don't approv-"

Tiresias raises his staff high above his head, the shard of the moon beginning to glow across his hood. A collection of different stars and constellations swirl around Odysseus and Tiresias as his eyes close behind the blindfold. "I see a song of past romance," Tiresias pauses, his mouth forming a slow grimace. "I see the sacrifice of man..."

The siren looks at the bag containing her friends with horror. Her mouth falls open, and her eyes widen as they quickly become blurry with a combination of fear and anger. Odysseus smirks as he looks down at the siren, his sword in his hand glinting in the sunlight. He crouches down, taking the sirens chin in his hand. His eyes lock with the sirens, and he puts his sword to her throat. "We won't take more suffering from you." With a single slice, the siren's head flies off her body, her body falling limp as the head sinks to the bottom of the ocean.

The crew listens, and so does Scylla. Scylla's main head curls into a smile, another eel darting towards one of the torchbearers. "Drown in your sorrow and fears!" Scylla's eel snatches one of the torchbearers in its mouth, his blood splattering across the deck of the ship as the eel retreats with its new meal.

[infernaelis]

𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗗𝗨𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢 : 𝗟𝗜 𝗝𝗜𝗡𝗛𝗔𝗜 .

❛ 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚝 , 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚍 . 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚝𝚑 ? 𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚠 . 𝙶𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 . ❜

family name : Li - he cannot remember the one he was born with and largely did not care to have a family name. However , the constant perplexed looks and questioning as to why he had no name and where he came from grew wearisome and so he chose one at random .

given name : Jinhai - the name given to him by Song Quan when he took him in and adopted him as his brother .

courtesy name : none - he cherishes the name given to him by his brother and has no desire to be known by any other name .

age range : 19 - 25 .

eye colour : dark brown , almost black .

hair : black , long , straight . Worn either half tied back or fully tied up , usually adorned with a black band across his forehead .

complexion : fair , pale , a stark contrast to his notably dark eyes and pink lips .

build : fit , lean , lithe .

face claim : Tian Jiarui .

sexuality : bisexual , biromantic .

key personality traits : sharp , loyal , intelligent , sneaky , outspoken , solitary , innovative , determined , cunning , resourceful , mocking , emotional , passionate , bitter .

cultivation ability : decent , could be higher if he were to put his mind to it but Jinhai prefers to focus on his proficiency with weapons , poisons and combat ability . Jinhai has a preference for darker cultivation methods and in particular , the use and manipulation of shadows and dark energy . This is due to being imbued with demonic energy by Song Quan as a child in order to help him survive what would have been an otherwise fatal sickess .

Little is known of Li Jinhai's origins , even he himself is largely unaware . His earliest memory dates back to the age of 4 , when he was found orphaned , shivering and starved on the streets of a struggling village by General Song Quan . The General took pity on the child and took him in, giving him food , clothes , shelter , warmth and , perhaps most precious of all , a name . The boy clung to the man's robes as he drifted in and out of consciousness, consumed by a fever his small , frail body could not fight off . Healers deemed he would not live to see the end of the week but the Quan intervened , imbuing the child with demonic power . This was enough to strengthen the boy and ensure his survival , though the demonic energy would stay with him forever . From the very start Jinhai was devoted to Song Quan , adored him as if he were his own brother . Around the military camp wherever the General walked , the small boy followed , full of questions and comments and silly little games : the boyish enthusiasm of a child finally able to thrive as well as survive . He dreamed of growing and training to fight side by side with his brother - but when Song Quan fell in battle to a well known and despised demon , those dreams were shattered , lost to the wind with the broken cries of a grief stricken child .

Loss made him sharp ; the cruel absence of the only person to ever grant him love and security made the boy's heart bitter and lonely - as if entombed by thorny barbs . There was little consolation to be found , so he sought solace in something dark and destructive : revenge . As the years passed , Jinhai dedicated all time and energy into honing himself into a deadly weapon witht the dark hope that one day he would avenge his fallen brother and slay the demon who so cruelly took Song Quan from him .

Foresaking the traditional and honorable sword favoured by many fighters of his time , Jinhai favours two shorter blades which he wields simultaneously . He moves swiftly and savagely , relying on speed and wit to take down his opponents . He is a master of stealth , infamous for his knack of slipping into shadows that seemingly come from nowhere . He is adorned with a great variety of blades strapped on his person at any one time which he counts and cleans every night in ritualistic fashion before he sleeps . His prized weapons are two very small , slim curved knives which he fondly refers to as his 'viper fangs' - they are lightweight , easy to throw , and always coated with poison .

Jinhai has no home , makes name and money for himself as a wandering killer , a nomadic assassin for hire while always keeping an ear to the ground for any whispers about the whereabouts of his brother's killer, the demon Geng Chen . He is slow to trust and favours isolation ( save for the company of a black viper whom he often likes to wear upon his shoulders ) but has a soft spot for the underdog ; those whom the rest of the world has turned their back on and forgotten . In particular , he harbours hidden kindness to orphaned children , and strikes without remorse at any who try to hurt them . He remembers all too well the keen sting of winter winds upon the vulnerable flesh of an infant without a home .

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 :

Song Quan : Renowned general in the army built to take down the demon Geng Chen , Quan was respected and powerful with the unique ability to create shadow demon warriors; beings imbued with dark demonic energy . Quan found Jinhai when he was no more than a small , orphaned child living on the streets . He took him in , nursed him to health and cared for the infant Jinhai . The two shared the bond of siblings and Jinhai was devoted to his big brother . General Song Quan was slain in battle by the demon Geng Chen and Jinhai , shattered by the loss of the only person to ever give him love and warmth , has since devoted his life to avenhing his fallen brother .

Mei : At the age of 16 , Li Jinhai came upon a black viper slumbering amidst the shadows of trees in a dense forest . The animal was beautiful , sleek , striking and Jinhai felt an inexplicable affinity with its venemous nature and the swift , silent way in which it could kill . For many years he cared for the snake as a faithful companion and bond grew between creature and killer until one day true nature was revealed . A demon who favoured the form of a snake finally showed her true face ; Mei had spent half a century in her venemous form through fear of being hunted and slain . Jinhai has never revealed her true identity to a single soul and the two share a kindred bond and companionship they have both been sorely lacking .

Luo Jingyi : When the completion of a contract left Jinhai wounded , he sought refuge in a nearby forest , believing it would offer a solitary sanctuary that would allow him to nurse himself back to health in safety . It wasn't long however before a cultivator from a nearby clan happened upon him ; Luo Jingyi was close to him in age but that's where their similarities stopped . Where Jinhai was sharp and cynical , Jingyi exuded a gentle , reliable warmth - enough so that Jinhai reluctantly accepted his offer of aid . The cultivator tended his wounds and asked for nothing in return , despite Jinhai's insistence that he must surely be after something . The two have crossed paths a few times since , and Jinhai feels increasingly indebted , keeping a watchful eye out for an opportunity to repay the generosity in some way . Jingyi's kind and compassionate nature strike Jinhai as a form of naivety - yet he cannot help feel admiration for his good heart , and regards the young cultivator with a persisting sense of curiosity .

[lesbianrobin]

(genuine question, not trying to be confrontational) Why do you think Nancy is straight? I personally headcanon her as aromantic, but I can see how people would read comphet into her canon relationships, considering she’s often miserable with and mean to both Steve and Jonathan.

i can definitely see both comphet and aro nancy and i don't totally disagree!!

personally, i think that nancy really does want to be in a romantic relationship with a man, but she has a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits that make it difficult for her to have a healthy relationship. she gets defensive and lashes out with the meanest thing she can think of sometimes (oliver twist comes to mind), and she can get tunnel vision and forget to consider how her actions might impact someone else (getting wasted at the party in s2, getting her and jonathan both fired in s3, her dismissiveness toward robin in s4). most importantly, i think she has a fear of abandonment and failure stemming from barb's death that sabotages her relationships.

nancy had an extremely close friendship that suddenly ended one night in a brutal death that nancy was ignorant of because she chose to prioritize her boyfriend over barb One Time. she blames herself and steve, and i think barb's death left nancy with a fear of ever being ignorant of the danger around her again. that fear drives her journalistic pursuits, which can be a double-edged sword, as i mentioned she tends to get tunnel vision and forget to consider people's feelings.

i think the loss of barb also left her with a fear of being alone, which is why she gets back together with steve post-s1 despite harboring feelings for jonathan, why she immediately hooks up with jonathan as soon as her relationship with steve is in danger in s2, and why she begins flirting with steve again in s4 when her relationship with jonathan is on the rocks. i think she's attracted to both of them and feels comfortable with both of them, and that comfort is enough for her to feel an intense need to cling to it so that she won't find herself alone again, regardless of which person she clings to.

of course this is all like analysis that the writers almost certainly have never considered mdcjdjf but that's just how i personally make sense of nancy's romantic/sexual inclinations :)

also on a pettier note i partially think she's straight just bc she reminds me So Much of the straight girls that bullied me growing up lmao