an angry blade

anonymous asked:

Sidons sword is taller than link, and 5x heavier. One day after Sidon goes home, he forgets his sword, link decides to try to take it to him but can't lift it. Sidon remembers before he gets home so he comes back and finds link yelling at the blade.

((Small angry Hylian noises.))

anonymous asked:

Idk though... I was prepared to give Flocke a chance, but now he is openly criticising his superiors in a way that might threaten their position when all they really want to do is... I don't know? Save humanity and prevent more lives from being lost! Flocke simply doesn't understand what he is arguing... He does not even know Armin, so how on earth can he weigh his life over Erwin's? Anyway feel free to argue my points, he's entitled to feelings but his actions now are of no help to humanity.

Hi, thank you for telling me your thoughts. I’d still like to argue on Flocke’s side, though.

First I want to point out that the danger of threatening the position of superior officers had already passed…In comparison to EM, Flocke is being pretty level-headed here. I like that Flocke did all he could do for his views without resorting to insubordination.

It’s true that Flocke doesn’t know Armin. He doesn’t really know who Erwin is, either. This applies to all lives because no one knows better than the person’s close friends the value of the person. From a military perspective, however, it makes more sense to bring the experienced commander back rather than a new recruit.

Flocke has a clear view of his arguments and does so much to follow through with them—bringing Erwin’s 90kg body back, trying to talk sense into people, attempting to stop an angry Mikasa with her blades out, etc. His motto is to speak the truth. Flocke doesn’t hide that he initially wanted to kill Erwin. Sometimes honest single-perspectives speak out stronger than cold objective views (this would be just the military strategy). Flocke was revealing himself because he wanted EM to know that they weren’t the only ones feeling the pain, and that he too had to swallow up his emotions for what he thought was for the good of humanity. Although his speech in the end influenced Levi’s choice to let Erwin go, Flocke had chosen the logical path. If Levi wasn’t so devoted to Erwin, he would have looked at the facts and brought the commander back. Flocke had expected the captain to be reasonable. How could he have guessed the love Levi had for Erwin?

His assessments are definitely necessary to humanity in that he is trying to prevent the survey corps from becoming blind people who think they’re right all the time. EM obviously have eyes only for Armin and want to make it a fact that Armin is better than the Commander. Jean and Connie think that they are out of way of fire when Flocke points out that they had quietly let the insubordination happen. Flocke’s criticism on Levi is also just, and it’s what Levi had admitted himself—that he had chosen personal feelings over the good of humanity.

It’s true Flocke is also acting out of feelings—feelings of frustration that everyone is glossing over certain truths for their own comfort. Flocke’s view certainly isn’t the only truth, and he admits that. Other than when he speaks about the popular opinion of the people who read the report, Flocke labels what he says as a judgement of a single soldier. He is simply bringing in a different perspective on the characters. This is not just for the readers—Flocke is throwing (it felt more like sucker-punching haha) the comments at the faces of the characters themselves. With all the emotional clashes from the last expedition, I believe this is a required process for the characters to admit their mistakes and hopefully recover their sense of judgement.

prompt:

HMM OK SO i’ve been having these thoughts of rey seeing kylo’s itty bitty scar and her just being like ???!! ?? bc it didn’t leave as much damage as she thought so she’s determined to beat his face to a pulp so he’ll be more permanently damaged and ugly like she thinks he is inside

@cobwebbing So I know I promised this to you YEARS AGO, but! Here I am, finally delivering. It’s not really graphic or anything, but I hope you dig it!


There is a draw Rey feels, to Kylo’s face. An urge to claw her fingers into the thin line of his scar, new and tender, to tear it wide open. To make it once more large and marring. To make it bleed.

To make him bleed.

He shouldn’t be like this. The scar she gave him had been a sort of retribution for what he’d done, the proof of his monstrous actions. And it had been truthful - she had made him truthful - because his face had been too expressive, his eyes too sad, to truly be evil. To truly be a monster.

Except he is, and she was the one to brand him with the evidence.

Only now-

Now he looks much the same as before, just barely altered.

That scar might as well be nothing.

There’s a twist to his mouth that pulls on his cheek a little. The scarred flesh makes his cheek a little stiff, she notices, but it’s no consolation.

If he notices her revulsion, he doesn’t give it away.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

It’s a lie, Rey thinks. Surely he can’t be so twisted as to think-

Her hands clench into fists.

“You should have died in that forest,” she spits, almost as angrily as the blade he holds at his side can be. He hasn’t activated it.

That gets a reaction. A twitch of his brows, the pull of his mouth. Kylo’s mood shifts. “You’re the one who spared me,” he reminds her, although it’s difficult to tell which of them that reminder pains more. She imagines a man like him hates the thought that a dirty scavenger from a nowhere planet managed to best him.

She thinks she hates that she sparred him.

Her hands clench again, then unclench, then clench. Over and over. She doesn’t have her lightsaber. Luke has it, or he’s hidden it, or-

She’s unarmed.

Kylo still hasn’t raised his lightsaber against her.

She doesn’t know why. It’s either insulting, or - or something else. She doesn’t know which reasons she’s more disturbed by.

“Your face,” she nearly whispers. If she tries to speak any louder she’s fairly certain she’ll scream. “There’s barely anything-”

A spark of understanding passes between the two of them, and his eyes narrow. He raises his hand a little, the one holding his lightsaber, but that’s it. His nostrils flare and he tilts his head.

“Disappointed?” He asks, but he’s not really asking. She knows he can sense her answer.

Rey answers anyway.

“You deserve every scar you got,” she takes a step forward. She forced herself to take a breath. “I shouldn’t have hesitated.”

He looks - distressed. Angry, livid, but also distressed. It’s a hard feeling for her to pin, a hard expression for her to read on his face.

He shifts his posture, just a little. It looks very dangerous.

In front of him, his angry blade roars to life. His thumb is on the ignition button.

She doesn’t have a lightsaber.

“I guess you missed your chance, then.” He speaks lowly, barely loud enough for her to hear over the hum of his weapon. He’s angry.

A step, and then another. Another. Rey knows that she has to run, but each step brings him closer to her reach. Closer to being able to rip open that sad face of his. His blood would get all under her nails if she did.

She can’t do that now, though, even if he gets close enough. Especially if he gets close enough, since he’s the only one currently holding a lightsaber.

Kylo will kill her if he gets close, and then scars won’t matter.

Running away isn’t retreating. She repeats that in her head like a mantra even as she does it. She just has to find her lightsaber. Once she had it, she’ll turn and face him just as before.

And she will give him a new scar. One that will ruin his face.

A scar to make Kylo Ren truly look like a monster.

Years have passed and my skin still wants to bleed at the thought of you.
Angry blades have opened me and still my mouth stays shut.
“here I am,” my body seems to scream, despite my best attempts to silence it.
some nights I wake up, shivering and sweating, and I try to tell myself how nothing that bad even happened to me.
The way you always did.
Memories are blurry and shy, always hovering just out of reach, darting whenever I try to grab one
My mind might have convinced me that I have forgotten, but my body remembers.
Each word you said is etched inside me
Whenever someone pays me a compliment I hear you laugh.
You are my first thought in the morning and the last when I go to bed, and it’s not romantic, it’s horrific.
Your words were a tape measure I tried to wrap around my waist and disappear into.
As I type these words I hear your voice denying all of it
I swear to God I can feel how little you think of me.
I can feel your image of me in your mind fading away, becoming a blur against a background,
just a gaunt fauce in a yellow polo, a name to ring out from time to time.
I wonder if you remember what my voice sounds like, because I will never forget yours.
Flightless

A/N: Hello, there. It’s been a while.

Pairing: Eremika | Words: 842 | Rating: K+ | Genre: Angst

( ff.net / ao3 )

—– —– —–

The firewood crackles with every quiet blink of the flames, which gleam off a heat that shrouds the palms of the hands that outstretch before them. Hands that have callused through the years, that have held weapons and blood and the last, rasping breaths of fallen comrades.

Eren sighs into the night, closing his eyes. It’s been so long since he joined the Survey Corps, he can hardly remember who he was before this all began. And growing up in a world consumed by madness has made him hard, has quelled a spirit that once smoldered. For he’s lost so much that, in a sense, he’s freed. He stands unburdened of the seal that branded him a traitor, the mob that gave him wings. Because that same refuge was so quick to turn against him, to declare all titans must perish, even him. And so it was that Eren finally learned how to fly, fleeing from the bands of angry blades held skyward with a cry, the friendly faces that crumbled into something so hard, so hateful, it made his heart go cold.

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6

Huginn + Muninn

“O'er Mithgarth Hugin and Munin both
Each day set forth to fly;
For Hugin I fear lest he come not home,
But for Munin my care is more.”

Above excerpt from the Poetic Edda poem Grímnismál

Fast and light it swings
Like Huginn’s feathered wings.
Quick and brute the seax
Like Muninn’s angry beak.

15″ Blade (wrought iron, 1084, 15n20, 80crv2)
5/5” Handle (wrought iron, elk antler, teak)
20.5” Overall
1.2 Pounds
2.125” POB from the hilt

2

grace is a gift for the fallen dear
you’re an angry blade and you’re brave
but you’re all alone

love love love - the mountain goats // alaska - halou // holy - frightened rabbit // an angry blade - iron & wine // marching song - esben and the witch // ill in the head - dead kennedys // what love looks like - mirel wagner // it will come back - hozier // ascent - hildur guðnadóttir // daisy - brand new // to leave, with love - ema // if you were me - frightened rabbit // after it’s all gone - jonathan simmons // burn my body - william elliott whitmore

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Curls

Artist/Person : Jung JaeWon

Group/Crew : Solo/YG

Genre : Smut

Word Count : 890

Requested:  I saw u do ambw requests are you black by any chance? Can you do a Jaewon ambw scenario where you have natural 4c hair and he helps you with the washing/straightening process, but then he’s massaging ur hair and you get horny and move onto other activities? Thank you!!

We sat on the couch, small giggles and sweet words being whispered to one another. His large hand running through my messy hair, I had straightened it a few days ago and was starting to get greasy and wavy. “Jagi..we’ve been dating for a while, how come I’ve never seen you hair when it’s just out?” I raised my eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?” “Like, I’ve seen your hair unstraightened but it’s either braided or in those cool knot things that you do.” “I don’t know…I just always fix it up before I leave the house. I guess I just never thought about it.” “You told me that when you wash it, that it gets really curly.” I nodded, feeling him twirl some around his finger. “Can I wash it?” A laugh left my mouth as I watched him. He smiled shyly, but his eyes were completely serious. “Sure. I like when other people wash my hair.” “Good. Come on, I’ll do it in the shower.”

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Happy Halloween!

Go as a vampire with his cursed Aegislash.

“Have you heard the legend of the cursed blood sword?

Once upon a time there was a king who was famous for his leadership and his swordsmanship. Everyone loved him under his rule and admired how strong and skillful he was in the way of the swords. Everything was going well in his life…well as long he kept fighting and create bloodshed that is.

You see, he was actually just a common folk until he found a large black sword with a single golden eye. When he grabbed the sword, it spoke to him. It told the man that if he desired for power and fame, he must fight. The man didn’t think at it first and simply accepted its offer. The man was then granted power as he wield the blade, he was suddenly able to beat master sword masters, he was able to handle off an army of bandits, and all sorts of enemies once the blade passed knowlege to him. And he kept winning every fight.  As he won battles, he eventually rose to become king and lived in a peaceful kingdom. And all this blade asked for was simply fighting for all of this… as long as it gets its blood.

Eventually there were no more enemies that the king faced and no one wanted to fight him anymore. The king became restless, with no more fights the blade became angry and kept urging him to fight and create more blood. The king tried to search for fights, but there were none to be found. The blade snapped. It had enough of the king and rose itself from its owner. It stared at the king’s eyes in anger and grabbed the poor king and then…. devoured his mind.

His eyes no longer looked like his own anymore as they became golden yellow with a white slit, eyes that were just like his blade’s only eye. He no longer acted like the king that everyone oh so admired, he became a bloodlust thirsty man who hungered for blood and battle. There was simply just chaos as he kept fighting and fighting until the body that the sword possessed could no longer moved. Eventually the king fell and then eventually so does the accursed blade.

But…

It’s said the blade’s offspring still lingers around the old ruined castle, waiting for it’s next wielder… “

….yeah that came up in my head just now,,, it freaking midnight already and I’m writing a poorly written story!? I’m going to bed.

3

request for: @always-and-forever-indeed

pairing: Reader x Castiel

song: Angel with a Shotgun by: The Cab

word count: 1,463

*~*~*

“Castiel,” Hannah began, “I am sorry brother, but you have to choose a side.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows. “Either you cut all ties with Y/N and the Winchesters and fight with us, or you fall from grace like Lucifer.”

Cas nodded, understanding the graveness of the situation. He didn’t want to be like his brother, banished from ever stepping foot in heaven again, but he also knew he couldn’t lose you. You had become his new heaven.

“I understand.” Castiel nodded, then flashed out of heaven. “And I will always choose the Winchesters and Y/N. Everytime.”

Hannah nodded. She knew that Castiel would choose his friends, but she had hoped that he would choose heaven and her.

In an instant, Castiel was thrown out of heaven and began falling to earth at millions of miles a second. Pain shot across his wings as the silky white color he had always loved, turned into a dark black.

For you, Castiel thought, it was all worth it.


(I’m an angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun,
An angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun.)

Get out your guns, battle’s begun.
Are you a saint or a sinner?
If love’s a fight then I shall die
With my heart on a trigger.

Castiel landed with a thud on the cool earth. He allowed himself to flash to the bunker where he knew you would take care of him.

“Cas!” You rushed over to his side when he appeared on the couch. “What happened?”

He gave you a small smile as you took his hand. “I choose you.”

“What?” You asked confused.

“I’m going to fight with you.” He said, before his eyes closed.

“Dean!” You yelled, “Get in here.”

“I’m busy!” You heard him yell back.

You didn’t want to leave Cas like this, but you knew that the oldest Winchester would know what to do. Determined, you stomped down the hall and into his room.

“I said I was busy.” Dean turned around.

“Cas is here.” You told him.

“What?” Dean asked.

“There’s something wrong with him but I don’t know what it is.” You told him.

In an instant, Dean grabbed your hand and dragged you out of his room and down the hall to Cas.

“Cas,” Dean called out frantically as he dropped your hand and rushed over to his side.

“Dean.” Cas gave him a weak smile. “Where is Y/N?”

At the mention of your name, you rushed over, picking up his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “What happened, Cas?”

“I fell from grace.” He told you quietly. “I am okay now.”

“You’re sure?” Dean asked him. “If you need to sit on the sidelines for this fight, that’s okay.”

Cas looked at you and smiled. “I will fight.”

They say before you start a war,
You better know what you’re fighting for.
Well, baby, you are all that I adore.
If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.


The fight. When you saw Cas in the state he was in, the thought of a war totally slipped your mind. Although you didn’t approve of rogue Angels, they didn’t deserve to be smitten down. You and the Winchesters had sworn to protect them, and now that Cas had fallen from grace, he was in trouble too.

“Cas, if Heaven finds you they’ll smite you down.” You told him worried.

Cas smiled at you and held your hand tighter. As long as you were safe, he didn’t care what happened to himself. “They will not find me, Y/N. Do not worry.”

“How can I not worry about you?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

Cas slowly began to sit up, making you instantly rush over to his side. You placed your hand on his lower back in an effort to dodge his sore wings. Once Cas was standing, he looked down and extended his hand, lightly cupping your cheek.

“We will fight together.” Cas told you. “Nothing can happen to you when I am by your side.”

“I’m not worried about me,” You reminded him. “I’m worried about you.”

“Nothing will happen to me either, Y/N. I promise.” Cas gave you a smile.

You leaned into his touch and placed your hand over his. “I’m holding you to that.”

Cas smiled down at you before grabbing the two angel blades on the table and handing you one.

“Ready?” He asked.

You smiled and took his hand. “Always.”

I’m an angel with a shotgun,
Fighting ‘til the war’s won,
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.
I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.
Don’t you know you’re everything I have?
And I wanna live, not just survive tonight.

Sometimes to win, you’ve got to sin.
Don’t mean I’m not a believer.
And major Tom will sing along.
Yeah, they still say I’m a dreamer

Cas flashed you out of the bunker and to a quiet field far away from civilization. Fallen or not, the Angels didn’t want humans getting hurt.

“Brother, when did you go dark side?” Lucifer appeared from behind you. “Welcome to the team and now who is this lovely human?”

“She’s helping us fight.” Castiel gave you a reassuring squeeze.

Lucifer smirked. “Glad to know you’re one of Father’s intelligent apes.”

You scoffed. “Still have daddy issues, Lucifer? I thought being on a time out for centuries would have fixed that awful temper of yours.”

Lucifer let out a hoot of laughter and nudged Castiel’s arm. “You hold onto her, brother. She’s a keeper.”

“I intend to.” Cas told him with all seriousness.

“Right, well, I’m going to go round up the other rogue Angels. You two stay safe.” Lucifer told us as he walked away.

“You too.” You called out after him. Lucifer turned around and gave you a grateful smile before jogging off.

“Castiel.” a voice called out from behind you. In an instant, Castiel had pushed you behind him as he talked to the angel standing tall.

“Samandriel.” Cas huffed out.

Samandriel raised up his blade, giving Cas a solemn glance. “You brought this upon yourself, brother.”

Samandriel leaped into action, charging towards Castiel with his blade raised high in the air. Cas blocked the angry angel’s blade and side-stepped, making Samandriel angrier.

The soft sound of feet padding across the grass snapped you out of your thoughts. You spun around, raising your angel blade up and countering an attack.

“Who are you?” the Angel asked.

“I could ask you the same question?” You remarked, pushing the blade back.

“Why is a human fighting on the fallen angel side?” The Angel scoffed.

You thought of Castiel and smiled. “Because I believe in these Angels.”

They say before you start a war,
You better know what you’re fighting for.
Well, baby, you are all that I adore.
If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.

I’m an angel with a shotgun,
Fighting ‘til the war’s won,
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.
I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.
Don’t you know you’re everything I have?
And I wanna live, not just survive tonight.

Oh, oh whoa whoa oh whoa

Castiel solemnly pierced Samandriel in the stomach, sending him to the ground. “I am sorry, brother.” Castiel gently laid the Angel on the floor as he took his last breaths.

When Castiel saw that you were fighting another one of his siblings, he quietly rushed behind and stabbed the Angel.

“Y/N,” Cas pulled you into his arms. “Are you okay?”

You hugged Cas back, never wanting to let go. “I’m fine. How are you.”

Cas looked down at you. Safe and sound. “Everything is perfect.”

With the war over and everyone he cared about safe, Cas allowed himself to smile. “C’mon Y/N, you need to get some rest.”

He zapped the two of you back to the bunker and held you in his arms as you drifted off to sleep.

I’m an angel with a shotgun.

Fighting 'til the war’s won.
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.

I’m an angel with a shotgun,
Fighting 'til the war’s won,
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.
I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.
Don’t you know you’re everything I have?
(I’m an angel with a shotgun)
And I want to live, not just survive
(Live, not just survive)
And I’m gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight.

They say before you start a war,
You better know what you’re fighting for.
Well, baby, you are all that I adore.
If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.

Something within him snapped.

His core pulsed and thrummed with a power foreign to him, one of the many slots within its integral scaffolding accepting it like a puzzle piece he hadn’t known was missing. Fingers curled into fists, oblivious to the long serrated black claws slicing into his palm.

“How…..DARE you…!”

Heat blossomed all over his body. It forced him to bend, took a hold of every nerve in his limbs. Shoulders hunched, muscles tight under taunt skin and fabric. His chest expanded, burning air filling his growing lungs. Organs shifted and slid over each other. Muscles rewove themselves, thick and bulging as bones grew and rearranged. Large jagged scales erupted, falling over one another like ripples from a cascade, glassy smooth surface eerily ethereal and blindingly white. Tatters of black fabric feel to the floor around his taloned feet, several extra joints in his legs slotting into place. His spine cracked and popped, blood red spines bursting from thick skin between scales and curving upwards like the damned reaching for salvation. A long tail twisted and writhed like an angry snake, the bladed ax on the tip slicing through the air. Leathery sacs bubbled and grew into grotesque tumors on his back before bursting open in a spray of neon pink and limb. The long fingers stretched and flexed, the taunt flesh between them stretching to display thick veins. From the base of his long twisted neck, long wickedly curved fins fanned out, twitching, sharp points gleaming. His head swung around, pure red eye glowing with ghostly light. Unbelievably shiny black horns crowned his skull like a crest, large and crooked. Horns peaked from his nostrils. Thick armored plates as red as red could be ran from under his chin to the tip of his tail, protecting the core now residing just under his gullet.

Danny found his throat very dry as he stared up at the very large beast glaring at them. Fear stiffened his limbs and he stumbled as he tried to take a step backwards. His parents has yet to snap out of their horrified stupor.

“V-vlad…?” Against his wishes, his voice shook.

The dragon snarled, lips pulling up to reveal rows of large razor teeth embedded in black gums.

“Easy, Vlad…..You don’t want to do this, do you? Just, uh, take a deep breath?”

Red eyes flashed, and he roared. Superheated, foul breath buffeted into them,nearly knocking them off balance as the sound threatened to deafen them. Strong wings flared, pushing through cement and metal and brick like it was nothing. Huge claws dug into the carpet as a tail took out the entire front of the building. With a mighty downbeat, he launched into the air, screeching. Billows of ectoplasmic flame seared into the sky. Danny could only stare in horror, and at the gold plated amulet around Vlad’s armored neck, innocently vibrating as it channeled his pure unrestrained fury.

boys with pretty faces and dagger-sharp smiles
↳...he had Neil Wesninski, with his truths and scars and eyes that promised to pull Andrew apart and find out how he worked. With his cautious hands and his welcoming mouth and the threat of his foot against Andrew’s throat, a fall at his back. (a switchblade is my preferred weapon side b) [l i s t e n]

i. beautiful crime - tamer  ii. fish - wye oak  iii. new ways - daughter iv. night time - the xx v. the walk - imogen heap vi. we only attack ourselves - funeral suits vii. feeling a moment - feeder  viii. mortal - fractures ix. give up - fka twigs x. you should know where i’m coming from - banks xi. pull me down - mikky ekko xii. blood flood - alt-j xiii. an angry blade - iron & wine xiv. wolves without teeth - of monsters and men xv. stay - thirty seconds to mars xvi. secret - greeley estates

2

sleep don’t visit, so I choke on sun, and the days blur into one
and the backs of my eyes hum with things I’ve never done

(a Midwestern Gothic playlist since that’s my aesthetic of choice these days)

Welcome Home Radical Face // Raise Hell Dorothy // Last Red Dawn Lincoln Durham // Black Lung Heartache Joe Bonamassa // Hard World Murder By Death // Till The Water’s All Long Gone The Decemberists // Restless Sinner Black Rebel Motorcycle Club // An Angry Blade Iron And Wine // Patron Saint Hunter Timber Timbre // In The Devil’s Territory Sufjan Stevens  // Wolf Like Me Lera Lynn // In The Woods Somewhere Hoizer

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