THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK ONE --- Your eyes trailed up to the balcony, taking stock of the man who was perched there, hands resting on the railing as he peered down at the crowd that had just entered the room. Broad shoulders were only accentuated by plated armor, polished to a bronze sheen. You had seen this man before, during military processions and that sort of thing. The prison warden, and one of the caesar's previous champions. Samuel. The warden of the prison underneath the colosseum.

Hello Y/N, My name is Jack Manifold and I'm a twitch streamer/youtuber (you can find me @ jackmanifoldtv). Recently I've been working on designing and getting merch for my subscribers, and I've been looking for a photographer to possibly help with a merch photoshoot so I'll have some pictures for the website. I found your page through Instagram and so far you look like you know what you're doing. I just was wondering about your price range for that sort of thing and when you would be available for a shoot? Jack Manifold (not sus) ---- Hello Jack, Thank you for the request. I took a look at your page, and I would be happy to set up a time for a shoot. The price would depend on how many hours the shoot would be, and my rate is about £100 an hour. As for availability, I am still in school, so it would have to be either in the afternoon or on the weekend if you wanted it earlier in the day. Hopefully that's not an inconvenience! Y/N (also not sus, just in case you were wondering)

"𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅... 𝖤𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋." - High school sweethearts meet by chance the very first day of the year, as they try and rekindle their long lost admiration for each other... Or more accurately, coming to terms with how they've really felt since they've left each other's lives. [ ~86,000 words ] - In all honesty it's kinda just an English Telenovela. Started February ended August 7th 2020. - Inspired by Neil Sedaka's song Calendar Girl. - All rights reserved, story written by @giolibi 2020

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK FIVE ---- Tryst (noun): a private romantic rendezvous between lovers, "a moonlight tryst". ---- Your eyes drifted upwards catching onto the glint of the sword that had saved you and following the curve of the blade upwards until you came to a knarled hand, with dirt under the fingernails. You followed the arm upwards until you reached his face - partly obscured underneath a green and white striped hat. You were able to catch onto blue eyes and the scruff of a beard underneath a mop of blonde hair though. What drew your attention most though, was the crow's wings behind him, flared out and glinting by the light of the sword. You hadn't even heard him swoop down for the approach. For someone who hadn't been seen in over a century, the Angel of Death looked young... too young. But then he was spinning away, wings flapping behind him so that he hovered over the ground as he sliced through anything that came too close for comfort. Even the skeletons a ways away weren't safe from his flames when their zombie counterparts came staggering too close. Soon enough, the dark forest was alight with burning undead creatures, providing a light source for you to stagger up to your feet as the Angel slid his sword back into it's scabbard. You weren't expecting him to round on you like he did, fire in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 4 --- Gladius, (noun): (in ancient Rome) a short sword. --- Eret perked up as soon as you and Simon walked into the room, a wide and welcoming smile coming onto his face. He was softer looking than his father had been, but you could still see some of the similar traits. He had a head of thick dark curls, and the same sharp jaw that his father had had. He wasn't as bulky though - he was tall and thin - and his face was a lot more open. What separated him most from his father's likeness though was the colorful cape, and the large mirrored glasses he wore - swirling with colors reflected from the room. He stood from his seat when Maven let the doors swing shut behind her, that wide smile still on his face. "You must be the embassy." "And you must be King Eret." You said, stooping into a bow. "Oh, there's no need for that." Eret said as you rose from your bow. He stepped down from the dias where his throne sat - colorful cape trailing behind him - and came to stand in front of you, taking your hand instead. "I'm not really one for formalities." He grinned, shaking your hand. His palm was warm against yours, and you could feel some slight callouses - most likely from practicing his sword work.

"hey dream? you're an asshole," she spoke slowly from her place in the corner, wrists tied behind her back. "you know, you're really not in a position to be saying things like that," he responded, twirling the handle of his sword in a circle.

❝ You got everyone's hearts, but you fall In love with your own hater ? ❞ A fanfic where Quackity Catches feelings for A twitch streamer that Dislikes him.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲 ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── bₗₑₐcₕ ₋ bᵣₒcₖₕₐₘₚₜₒₙ ɪ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴘᴏʀᴛ, ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜱᴋʏ cover art; @cyticalis on twitter (' ω '♡) cw: swearing, mild violence sapnap x fem!reader 12.29.20-04.03.21