#sword swim

[alchemy-boy]

★ — MINECRAFT VEX STIMBOARD . . . with slime, crystals, and swords!

[ x - x - x / x - 🗡️ - x / x - x - x ]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 1: Dread on Arrival

(Part 2)

[yeehawpim]

please imagine the chants of CRAM CRAM CRAM CRAM in the background

[jojo-schmo]

I wish I could tell the original artist that this drawing permanently changed the entire direction of my life in 2009. I want to shake their hand, look them in the eye, and admit I would not be who I am today if this drawing didn’t exist.

EDIT: Original artist is @ivynajspyder !!!!

[smoosie]

Brave Mira

[forsooth-verily]

Oh TREE

where's my ASSSSS

[secrettreestuffidk]

ok but the fact that Kim Dokja's job was QA for a video game company just makes... so much sense

I've done QA before (not for games, but in general). The point of QA is to be a stress test, to see if a system has any flaws or loopholes or breaking points before it reaches its intended audience

if you wanna see what video game QA looks like, drop by letsgameitout on youtube and watch him destroy some games from the inside

And imagine setting a person like that loose in the setting of a world that has been their special interest every single day for the past 13 years

of course he has all the speedrun strats down, his brain is a finely honed tool designed to destroy any system it touches via technicality and persistence

[pioneer-over-c]

Summer Denning when

[cure-sensory]

sayaka miki for @corvoattanobignaturals!

🌊 | 🌊 | 🌊 || ⚔️ | 🎼 | ⚔️ || 🌊 | 🌊 | 🌊

[goticodolly]

Blood+ (2005)

[cpyclopse]

Skyward Sword Beach Episode!!!

Silly version under the cut :3

[My Art]

[royaipercabeth]

I see your headcanons of Percy on his school's swim team and raise you:

Percy on his school's fencing team.

He won't feel like he's cheating.

He gets to keep up his swordsmanship (which is a skill he has to practice, not a power).

The team still gets someone who is freakishly good.

[cryptidlover17]

Anime Nostalgia

[real-godzekiel]

Still. Despite all that i just want to say that i might do very weird self-indulgent cringy angst through inappropriately-chosen characters to do the projecting so i can pretend it is not a vent. it is a vent. i feel terrible

what opal dad is doing here is dermatillomania because i have dermatillomania kind of. it is not necessarily self harm but i don't know what people would view it as, so i added a tag.

[softquietsteadylove]

I know you said you don’t love writing thenamesh as actual biological parents (totally respect that and agree, I especially agree that Thena probably wouldn’t be the most willing mother (although I live and die for TMTL AU)) ANYWAY! would you possibly be interesting in writing something where Thenamesh accidentally stumble into parenthood without meaning to?? Maybe a little orphan child in ancient times won’t leave them alone and they end up raising them? (probably begrudgingly on Thena’s part to begin with but she’s a secret softie especially when Gil is smitten and we all know it). No worries if you don’t wanna write something like that, just something I was thinking about!

Thena sighed, "I know you're there."

She didn't receive a reply, and she knew she wouldn't. She stood from where she had been - entirely against her wishes but at Ajak's behest - reviewing some of the senate's requests. The various war orders and border reports were draining her.

She stepped down towards the door of the room, the skirts of her white toga trailing behind her. She spoke again, "orphan."

He responded to more than that, of course. Sersi thought it was cruel of her to address a child that way, but he responded to it. A small head of blonde peeked out from behind one of the larger vases.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him with an expectant tone. She raised her chin to further look down upon the boy, "you know better than to enter the temple of Athena without permission."

Usually, she was loath to bring up the title of Athena in any way. But if she need be stuck with it, she could make use of it.

The boy shuffled out, his hands clasped in front of the brown burlap of his tunic. "I was looking for Gilgamesh."

The boy was positively enchanted by her Champion. Plenty were, of course, but this boy idolised Gilgamesh and the very ground upon which he walked. And Gil was equally charmed by the small child. She thought he entertained his obsession entirely too much.

But the boy enjoyed trailing behind Gilgamesh when he was walking between the forge and the acropolis, or watching him train fighters in the arenas, or even when he was in the orchards gathering fruit.

"Why do you think he is here?" Thena fixed her eyes on the boy. Most grown men would be sensible enough to cower, but the child stepped even closer to her.

He glanced behind him a few times.

Thena let out another breath. She was not a caretaker, she had no business with the boy steps away from clinging to her. But she unfolded her arms and knelt down to see him better. Children's heads were so small. "Speak."

"The guards," the child twisted his lips. "They tell me not to bother the gods."

They also were no gods of old, at least not how Athens imagined them to be. But Thena had no qualms letting them think that if it meant them keeping their distance, either.

"And if they are correct to tell you these things?" she raised her eyebrows. But the boy shuffled even closer to her. She sighed, "what did you do?"

This child was no angel, just like they were no gods. He liked getting into trouble, challenging those twice his size, proclaiming that he would be a fierce warrior someday. And sometimes that 'challenge' was him running up to someone and whacking them with his only possession: a toy sword, fashioned from wood (clumsily, by his own hand).

"They were being cruel," he spoke in defense of himself. His hands left his tunic to clench into tiny little righteous fists. "They were laughing at old man Socrates! One even threw his apple at him!"

Thena felt her hackles raise. She had no business policing humans; they were of no concern to her. But what did bother her was senseless cruelty to those more vulnerable than the strong. "And you decided to do something about this."

The boy's small shoulders fell again, though. "I told them I challenged them to a duel."

Thena tilted her head. His tunic was still fastened above his trousers with a rope, but there was no toy sword. "Where is-"

He sniffled, trying not to let his tears fall, "they took it and broke it in half."

That was why he had run to her. Well, he had been seeking Gilgamesh's comfort, foremost. But he had also known that if the authorities of Athens were the ones committing an injustice, only the gods would correct them.

Thena frowned at the child's tears dropping onto the stone floor. He wasn't her child; he was no one's. He was, like many others, a result of the many wars Athens had waged before, and were attempting to continue waging. It was exactly that which she was opposing, despite her title as their figurehead for war.

Footsteps approached, heavily and loudly. The boy nearly leapt in fear and scurried to hide himself behind her, even tugging at her dress like a tapestry to hide his feet.

She glanced somewhat over her shoulder in the direction of the little head of blonde hair, getting tears and snot all over her pure white robes.

"Goddess Athena!" the guards greeted her before all else. Their heavy armour and leather skirts made sound with every breath they took. "Forgive our intrusion."

She said nothing.

"We were pursuing a street urchin, and we fear he may have run in here." The captain of their group stepped forward, the adornment on his helmet distinguishing him from the others. "We wish not to disturb you. But we cannot let a stray mutt wander into the hall of gods."

Thena looked at each of them. She owed them no words, and they had no right to ask them. Her lips twitched. "You have a splinter."

The guard seemed embarrassed, rubbing at his arm. "Forgive me, O-Warrior. I was struck with a splintering old board."

A child's toy, now no doubt sitting broken in the streets. Thena looked at the others. "Which of you ate the apple?"

They looked between themselves, confused. "My Lady?"

"One of you was eating an apple," she continued, raising her empty palm. They knew what that meant, stepping back. "And threw it at a harmless old philosopher."

Their faces went pale. It brought some joy to her, but she kept her face even. Their fear was the best part of her day. Rather than deny the wisdom of the Goddess of War, they knelt. "We beg your forgiveness, great Athena."

She drew back, her blade in her hand in a second. She took a harmless swipe over their heads, although the tops of their helmets fell unceremoniously to her floor like feathers from a startled bird.

The men trembled.

Satisfied that her message was received, she retracted her powers like a cat closing its paws. "Be gone from my sight."

The men obeyed, scurrying away, abandoning the remains of their rank, leaving them to explain what had happened to their uniform. If she ever did see them again, she would not be so kind as to let them go with their dignity.

"They will not bother you again," she said more quietly. The boy was strong; he had stopped trembling. And he had, at the very least, the wisdom to let her face his multiple foes.

He sniffled one last time before stepping away from her protection. "They always do, eventually."

Then next time, she would have them begging her for their lives. She kept her eyes looking out the door as she patted the boy's head. She wouldn't have been able to read the expression on his face regardless. "Gilgamesh should be done in the forge by now. He may even take you to the great hall. I believe they are making the baklava today."

The child's eyes lit at the promise of sweets. "Can I have some?"

She did her best not to smile, lest she encourage his youthful impertinence. But she may not have been entirely capable of suppressing it. "Tell them Athena herself demands it."

The boy didn't even look twice at her, running towards the door and nearly slipping in his old, worn sandals.

"Heracles," she called after him. He turned at the sound of his name. "Return with Gilgamesh. We will show you how to strike someone properly."

The boy beamed. His cheeks were ruddy and his teeth were small and uneven, and yet they fit his cherubic face. "Yes, Thena!"

He had heard Gil address her casually too often. If he called her that, what if others thought it acceptable? But she couldn't bring herself to be angry with the boy. It was far too difficult to hold a grudge against something so sweet and innocent.

Technically, the senate decrees still needed seeing to. But she had more important things to think about. And before young Heracles returned with Gilgamesh in hand, she had some whittling to do. She wasn't Phastos, or Sersi, by any means, but even she could carve a sword out of some spare wood.

[future-dregs]

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