#survivors arrow

[calamitybonesdesigns]

STORM

Storm is a tall, muscular, brown-and-tan female Fierce-Dog with large ears (one of which is torn), long legs, and a heavily-scarred pelt

She/her; Doberman (headcanon: Doberman 75%, Rhodesian Ridgeback 25%)

also she’s trans in my AU because i said so. FUCK TERFS. also she’s aroace<3

(SPOILERS) adding to this, her scars are based on events in the books; for instance, her muzzle scars are from her fight with Terror when she locked jaws with him. i also think she’ll get raking shoulder scars from her final face off with Breeze.

[iyote]

[ask-archer-idv]

“Archer,” Tatya arrived holding a blanket, “Archer, a serial killer sent me guts.” (@tatya-time) (HI IM ALREADY BACK MUAH!)

Seemed like it was an occurance that was happening around the manor - getting sent body parts. Archer couldn't help but rush over to Tatya and carefully holding her for a moment as they made sure that she wasn't hurt.

"Did you throw them away? Are you ok?" Archer quizzed with a worn voice.

[allegroart]

I like Cookie Run.

I like Survivor.

As soon as I saw Last Cookie Standing, I needed to make this dumb thing.

[fancifulflora]

in the mood for angst! how would the LIs in atoc react to the crown sacrificing themselves for them (during or after ur choice!) ty! group crying session after this lol

hehehe, I've been writing a lot of fluff lately and semi angst so now it's high time I destroy people a little on the inside

also since its a sunday and i have a lot of extra time to write I'm posting this as a nice bonus on top of the 1 daily post

Azad/Ashti

Perhaps they weren't too unlike their father after all.

Both lead their country to ruin, to chaos, in one way or another.

The only problem was that the Royal Protector didn't lose their mind. Their body wasn't frail. Paranoia had not taken them the way it did their parent.

They were healthy, as healthy as one could be. Still young, strong. Capable and with agency.

Yet they were still alive. A Royal Protector now without their Crown.

A failure.

It still was fresh in their mind, a sharp ache filling up their head whenever they let their mind drift to you. The guilt robbed their lungs of air.

They think of the trust you had given them, they trust the two of you shared.

You knew full well that this was their purpose- their duty to lay their life down for your safety.

So why did you do it? Why go so far for them?

It hurts to not be able to hold you in your final moments, to be able to ask- demand to know why you were so damn selfless. Why you cared for them so. Why your eyes looked so resigned, so at peace the moment you shoved your entire body against theirs- your eyes meeting for the last time.

Your head rolling across the stones ended all hope for answers.

Leaving behind a country in chaos, a failure in desperate need of answers they'll never get.

Dara/Delal

Somehow, despite all odds, despite everything they did in their power to get stronger, to grow- they did it again.

They've killed another Crown.

It had to be a cruel trick played on them by the very Spirits themselves. Had to be. There was no way that they were deserving of such sacrifice.

No way a single, insignificant soldier was worth not one, but two Crowns.

Void take them, there was no way their life could ever be worth yours alone.

Not when they knew you, knew your character, knew your potential.

The armor they wore that day still sits in their office, the golden scales stained with a crimson that they may never wash off.

Their own hands are still stained with blood every time they dare look down at them, stained with your blood- no matter how many times they try to wash it off. Try to put it in the back of their mind.

They can't even stop to think of the consequences this will have on their family, they can barely think as is.

The only thing they can do is harden themselves and let the earth itself swallow their misery, their heart.

And their chances of redemption along with it.

Rozerîn/Rêzan

Not a soul blamed them for the Crown's passing.

A part of the sorcerer wished they would.

It's only right that they do.

Though they knew the blame would come later, when the nights of mourning- crying, ended.

It would come when the sorcerer could eat and drink once more when they could get back to brushing their long hair- leaving the darkness of their chambers.

And for once, they'd welcome it.

They'd happily take the looks from the nobles, the snide- even accusatory comments.

It wasn't like they were incorrect in their sentiment. The sorcerer did turn out to be unfit for their position. Unworthy of the faith placed in them by those around the magus.

They'd deserve no less for failing their mentor, for failing their Crown.

For failing you.

Void take them, they'd deserve more criticism if anything.

All their insecurities were brought to life that day, the same day life left yours. They still remember it now, remember the tears in your eyes as you cupped the side of their face, your weak voice telling them that it wasn't their fault. The way you clutched at their silk dress, your blood pooling on the ground.

No amount of healing magic could have healed the deep stabs you had sustained.

Spirits, to think that in your final moments, you'd be thinking of them. It ate away at the sorcerer's heart.

To think that they'd have no choice but to move on from your death - their task now set to finding the next Crown once more. To see the hard work the two of you put into Arsur washed away by time itself.

It was a weight the sorcerer wasn't sure they were worthy of taking, a burden they doubted- no, knew, they could not carry.

Not after watching their very hope fade from your eyes.

Xelara/Xelef

They had their doubts about you when they first stumbled across the long-lost Crown of Arsur.

Their own past with Crowns was a bloody one- one that had them contemplating whether or not they'd even help you in the first place when they first got a glance at your golden eyes.

They still remember holding you in your final moments, seeing the beautiful shades of the sun fade away.

Taking you with them.

Early on, they'd wonder what they might do- should do, if you turned out like Crown Piruz, whether they'd regret not being the one to run a blade through you- kill you where you stood in that clearing.

They certainly never expected to ever actually do it.

Not like this anyway.

Granted, they didn't actually kill you with their own two hands. In fact, most of the songs and tales being spun around Arsur have been about the affection they held for you.

A love that brought about their end.

All because of an arrow you had stolen from them- taking it through the heart instead of the mercenary.

No. They couldn't lie to themselves, not this time.

They knew better. Anyone would sense would.

It wasn't the arrow that killed you.

It was them.

[the-feral-gremlin]

for ur pinned; guilt hc - any arrowverse character

Tw: self sabotage, drinking/alcohol mentioned, survivors guilt, and guilt.

After John and Oliver’s fight, Oliver stayed behind at the bunker and didn’t stop using the salmon ladder until his hands had blisters and the sun was already up.

Sara couldn’t look Leo snart in the eye for a long time because he was a reminder that for the first time in a long time, Sara ran away from danger and it got her Leonard Snart killed.

Alex fell off the face of the earth and drank a bottle of whiskey for three days after killing Astra. (When she came back she blamed her disappearance on paperwork/a mission.)

Cisco couldn’t look At Caitlin for a while after Ronnie died (And after everyone found out about what happened in the particle accelerator.)

Mia avoided Rene after coming to the future because she blamed herself/felt responsible for Zoe’s death.

Send me a hc + a word of your choosing and I’ll write a headcanon relating to that word!

[fischerfrey]

i had a dream i asked to borrow you guys' ocs and then i put them all in the sims and made them compete in the hunger games and held a vote every week for who should be killed off and the first thing you did was vote to kill verna🤣🤣🤣🤣 rip girl you lost the sims hunger games

[lexicals]

Meanest but funniest thing I like to do in this game is fire an arrow in between where you get the zonai mech and moblin camps next to each other and then watch them fight to the death before coming in to finish off the winner ^^

[straightedgesavior434]

Put Green Arrow on Cody Rhodes War Games team

[irkedisaac]

nothing in a game is as funny to me as a ludicrously high stat. my fallout 4 character has a perception of 21 if i eat some jerky. my bg3 character has an armor class of 28 and resistance to all damage. ive reached 8.4 million DPS in regular terraria once. it tickles me to think about being a complete bystander to a guy that can just sorta saunter through machine gun fire. what does that guy do on his off days yknow?

[ask-archer-idv]

Tatya is humming a tune as she skips around the outside of the manor, her caboodle in hand, trying to hunt someone down to give a makeover to. She notices The Archer from a distance and frowns, sensing that her whimsy would not be welcome, whereas it was usually accepted. She puts the hair curler into her bag and calls out to the man, “Hello! I haven’t seen you around before!” She waves grandly over her head, teetering on her heels. (@tatya-time) (Howdy! :D)

Being focused on their task of practicing, the archer suddenly undrew their bow quickly should the sudden voice appear in their line of sight. Eyes narrowed as Archer tried to see who it was but gave up, a nod of their head in greeting. There was a silent moment before Archer homed the arrow back into its quiver so one hand was free. Slowly - because they didn't know if the other knew sign language - Archer spelled the word 'new' before pointing to themselves and then the grounds.

With a small tilt of their head towards her, Archer quietly questioned who she was.

@tatya-time

[cardinal-island]

[nitsa13]

Man. I first started writing tags but I've ran out of them. Did anyone know you have max of thirty tags lol

Anyway, after etho hating creepers. I remember from last life that he loves going on the tops of the trees, he likes being invisible and safe so, because no one is looking up

I remember bdubs killing grian right in front of etho. I remember etho boogie-killijg scar because he burned his tree a little and then getting a life for bdubs out of him.

I remember how each even session contained more than one boogeyman. I remember how sixth session had six boogies

I remember etho throwing a potion and mumbo killing bdubs with the help of it. I remember etho killing mumbo exactly after.

I remember tango being killed by bdubs, betrayed, stabbed in the back after giving him a life, and all the rage

I remember how yellow scar threatened team best to kill himself to turn red and go off on the killing spree to get his enchanter back. I remember that scar cut that out of his episode but in the end almost stupidly died in southlanders's trap

I remember scott killing impulse when the guy didn't even have a weapon in his hands

I remember scarecrows in the southlanders's

I remember this world to be dark from endless nights and to be light from the bright fires that were happening constantly

Sorry I go crazy about last life in particular

guys I'm curious what are some of the most iconic life series moments? I want to hear about everything from the most well-known, fandom-loved moments to little things that just make you specifically go crazy! Tell me it all!

[frudoo]

A non Zombie apocalypse 141 poly

They find another survivor looking for supplies and decide to make her their wife.

I went a lil crazy on this one ngl

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con but nothing sexual. Fem!Reader.

It was that colossal motherfucker you saw first—the one you almost wasted an arrow on because of that creepy skull mask he wore. The big bastard was raiding your shelter, a little storage room in what used to be a department store. Believe it or not, the mannequins you placed outside of your hideout were enough to deter the zombies away, so you had a pretty good thing going. That was before this dumb brute decided to ruin all your hard work and steal your canned goods.

     Your plan was to shoo him away and tell him to piss off, but he wasn’t having it. No, instead, he made you carry your own supplies back to his shelter, where there were three other men to feed. Fuck, you had enough food to last yourself about three months, but now, with these giant men who no doubt have massive appetites? You’re lucky if it’ll last a week. 

     You’re sitting on a raggedy couch between the pretty man with the ball cap and another with a stupid overgrown mohawk now, arms crossed with a foul look on your face. Across from you sits the fucker with the skull mask, and beside him in an ancient recliner is a bearded man wearing a weird hat. Every now and then you let out an annoyed huff, earning yourself a pointed stare from each of them.

     “Are ye gonna eat summat, or jus’ pout like a wee baby?” Mohawk Man asks you through a mouthful of lukewarm spaghetti hoops. 

     You flip him off without even looking at him, earning a few snickers from the other men. If you weren’t so pissed off at all of them, you might have allowed yourself a little smirk. In fact, you feel the beginning of one curling at the corner of your mouth, until Ball Cap™ pulls you into his lap and traps you there with his strong arms. You yelp and try to shimmy out of his grasp to no avail. You go to bite him, but the second your mouth opens, a spoonful of beans gets plopped inside.

     “Swallow,” Skull Guy commands, covering your mouth with one wide palm in case you decide to try and spit it out.

     You glare at him the entire time, but still obey his explicit order because you truly are hungry. You give up on trying to escape the pretty man’s grasp, letting your body go limp. It’s probably wise to save your energy, anyway.

     “Good bird,” he praises mockingly. “Now, since you’re through bein’ a brat, I’ll introduce everyone. 

     “M’Simon. Tha’ there,” he points at the one with the mutton chops, “is John, or Cap’n, dependin’ on his mood. Beside you’s Johnny, but we call him Soap. The one you’re sittin’ on is Kyle. We call him Gaz when he’s bein’ a dick, though.” 

     You nod like you’re paying attention, using his distraction as an opportunity to steal the can of beans from his hand. It’s a weird group, for sure, but aside from the fact that they’re thieving bastards, it might be nice to have more humans to help protect you from the hoards of the undead. It’s a step up from mannequins, anyway. Perhaps it also helps that they’re all insanely attractive.

     “Wha’ aboot ye, hen? Go’ a name?” Mohawk Man—or, Johnny, apparently—asks with a cheeky grin. 

     Before you get the chance to tell him your name, the one with the mutton chops, John, interrupts you. 

     “No matter, is it? We’ll call her our wife soon enough.”

     You nearly drop the can of beans when you process the words that just came out of his mouth, choking on the bite you just took. Kyle pats your back until your little coughing fit ceases, and Simon wipes the sticky residue from your mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. None of them, you observe, are as baffled by John’s statement as you are. It makes a weird feeling churn in your gut.

     “A-all… all of you?” You stammer nervously, then start again with a lilt of confusion in your voice. “Wife?!”

     “Yes, dove, all of us,” Kyle confirms, confiscating the can of beans from you and setting it on the ground. 

     “Aw, don’t look so scared, sweetheart,” John stands from his place in the old recliner, stepping in front of you and lifting your head up to look at him with his pointer finger hooked beneath your chin.

     “I take good care o’my men. We’ll take good care o’you, too.”

[righteousinadversity]

I don't think any protagonist can ever top Wei 'Yiling Laozu' Wuxian. No one is doing it like him. He is an icon. He can shoot arrows blindfolded. He is a prankster. He falls for a boy and decides immediately that he must have said boy's attention on him at all time. He is necromancer exacting his vengeance. He is just three years old. He is a flirt. He has his first kiss in his twenties. He does not remember your name. He does remember that one song his crush sang to him in a cave when he was injured and feverish. He is a sunshine boy. He survived the hell of hells. He died and was unhappily brought back to life. He's the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. He walks the single plank bridge alone. He is the awesome gay uncle who knows everything. He is a pretty boy. He is the most moral, steadfast person you know. He is just a man throwing flowers to his love. He rips his hard won talent out to repay a debt that never was. He is a sister's boy. He is an abuse survivor. He is an urban legend. He is one of the most handsome men of his time. He has so much trauma. He plants children like radishes. He threw the arrow he was shot with from a rooftop and killed someone. He is a talented musician. He is a scheming fox. He can drink you under the table. He is so fucking tired of this bullshit. He has probably long since burned his tastebuds with the spice he puts in his food. He is broke. He kisses skeletons on their hands in gratitude. He confesses his deep, abiding love in the middle of being held hostage. He attempts the impossible and succeeds. He is an untamed hero, standing against a world condemning the innocent. He is everything.