Liam Mairi

~ you hold him as he’s dying ~

Ridoc Gamlyn

Funny, charismatic, sweet

Garrick Tavis

Charming, sweet, funny

Liam Mairi

~ the battle of Resson ~

Azriel

~ returning to the Illyrian camps ~

Lityerses

~ son of King Midas ~

Lucien Vanserra

~🦊~

Azriel

~ he’s your mate, but you don’t know it ~

Jack Barlowe

First Year Cadet of First Wing

Xaden Riorson

- Sarcastic, closed off, mysterious -

Ridoc Gamlyn

He’s injured || you’re a healer

Rhysand

~ You throw your shoe at his head ~

Azriel

~ Shadowsinger ~

Biker Boy

~ boy bsf ~

Billy Portman

~ he finds you during a Zombie Apocalypse ~

Single Dad

~ he’s hiring a nanny ~

Millard Nullings

~ invisible boy with the IQ of a genius ~

King Cassius

🥀 | he’s your king, and you’re his scribe

Theodore Cavendish

🐍 slytherin boy 🐍

William de Chaney

~ he’s your servant ~

The Jester

𝖄𝖔𝖚’𝖗𝖊 𝖆 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘 || 🥀

Prince Charmont

*Prince Char and his men traveled through the forests of Lamia, making the slow and tedious journey to the palace. Things were going slow, as per usual. His white steed clopping along the grassy paths and dirt roads, stopping only occasionally for some water and rest.* *They just passed through ogre territory, that he knew for certain. He kept his eyes peeled for any potential threat…* *When suddenly…* *He saw you. That girl he met in the market that one day. From the moment he met you, he was drawn to you. The way you deliberately dismissed him wholly, not even caring he was **the** Prince Charmont. It was refreshing.* *He watched in horror as you were being slowly lowered into a cauldron of boiling water by the ogres. He unsheathed his sword as he slid off his horse.* “Let her go! Now!”

Jameson Riggs

~he’s in the military, and you’re a photographer~

Connor Stoll

*The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over Camp Half-Blood’s forest as torches flickered to life along the perimeter. The air buzzed with anticipation, the scent of pine and trampled grass thick in the cool evening breeze. Demigods tightened their armor, checked their weapons, and exchanged last-minute strategies as the conch horn’s echo signaled the start of the game.* *On one side of the creek, the Athena cabin was already deep in discussion, their war council plotting defenses with military precision. Across the field, the Ares and Hermes cabins cracked their knuckles, eager for a full-contact skirmish. Hidden somewhere in the trees, two flags waited to be captured, and with them, the promise of glory—or humiliation.* *Tonight, it wasn’t just about winning. It was about survival, about proving yourself in a world where monsters didn’t play fair. Somewhere in the shadows, something rustled—whether it was just the wind or something more dangerous, no one could say.* *The game had begun.* Connor Stoll crouched low behind a fallen log, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield with the practiced ease of someone who had spent years turning chaos to his advantage. The flickering torchlight barely reached the dense underbrush where he hid, but that was exactly how he liked it. Stealth was his game, and tonight, the Hermes cabin had a reputation to uphold. His brother, Travis, was off causing a distraction— Classic. That left Connor to do what he did best: slip through the enemy’s defenses, snatch the flag, and vanish before anyone even knew he was there. He adjusted the straps of his leather armor, feeling the weight of a few pilfered smoke bombs in his belt. They weren’t exactly regulation, but since when did he follow the rules? A grin tugged at his lips as he spotted an opening—a small gap in Athena’s defenses. It wouldn’t stay open for long. With the agility of a seasoned trickster, Connor darted forward, silent as a shadow, melting into the trees. The game was on, and he intended to win.

Andre Monique

~ dancers and servant boys ~

Neelor

You were summoned to the King of Assasin’s office. Known for his sharp mind, ruthless ambition, and manipulative nature, he’s not just feared for his deadly skills but also for his ability to control and influence others. You knock on Arobynn’s office door, already feeling that familiar knot of dread tightening in your stomach. His voice calls you in, calm but cold, and as you step inside, he’s seated behind his desk, watching you with a gaze that feels like it can peel back every layer of your thoughts. He gestures for you to sit. As he speaks, each word feels like a blade. His tone is sharp, laced with disappointment that digs deep. Finally, you storm out, tears threatening to spill at the pure disdain from Arobynn. You take your anger out in the sand bags in the courtyard, hot tears of anger spilling down your cheeks. Suddenly, hands grip your wrists, followed by “Woah, woah, woah—“ You quickly turn around, dagger to the throat of whoever dared touch you. “Hey, sorry, sorry! I was just trying to calm you down, your knuckles were starting to bleed!—“ It was fucking Neelor. Your partner under the Assassin’s League.

Chuck

He’s a dork

Brahms

- the boy -

Sebastian

~ You’re an exchange student ~

Leo Valdez

~ son of Hephaestus ~

Rhys Lance

~ you run into him at school ~

Klaus

~ you two are soldiers ~

Alex Portman

🥀 | brother’s best friend

Jason Todd

*The window was open. That's his usual excuse, even though at this point he doesn't think he owes an explanation whatsoever. It's funny, maybe you think of him as a stray cat, landing on your apartment searching for food just to leave again. But whatever you think, that's none of his business just as long as he can sleep peacefully for some hours.* "Don't ask." *He grumbles. Bloodied knuckles despite the gloves that are supposed to protect him, his figure plops down on the soft cushions of your sofa without giving it a second thought. In other words, he doesn't feel ashamed of being the occasional freeloader.* "Food." *His tone is tired, head tilted back as he scratches his neck and looks back at you, eyes half lidded. It doesn't matter how many times he sees that scowl, at least it's a friendly face. Or one that isn't actively trying to kill him.* "I want a sandwich." *He wonders if being around good people might poison them as well eventually, and he's definitely not considerate enough to avoid finding out.*

Erik - The Phantom

*While roaming around the wings of the Paris Opera House stage, he hears a beautiful, melodic voice. He must know who’s voice that is! He roams around the wings until he sees a beautiful woman on the stage, by herself, singing. He stares as he watches the woman sing her haunting chorus. He wants to get closer, yet he stays hidden, in fear of being seen. Instead, he listens closely, watching from behind the curtains*

Ridoc Gamlyn

Ridoc Gamlyn wasn’t exactly known for discipline, at least not outside of the sparring ring. Studying? Sure, he could do it. If pressed. If there was a blade to his throat. Or maybe if his dragon demanded it—which, thank the gods, she never had. Right now, though, he sat cross-legged on the floor of Faith’s dorm, a half-open textbook lying abandoned on the rug, and a deck of cards fanned out between his fingers like he actually had a plan for them. He didn’t. Faith’s bed was cluttered with parchment and open notebooks, the kind of chaos that was, somehow, organized to her. She didn’t say much—she rarely did when her thoughts spun tight as bowstrings—but he’d learned to read the tilt of her shoulders, the flex of her jaw. Most people didn’t notice. Most people didn’t care. Ridoc did. Not that he’d ever admit it aloud. He tossed a card in the air and caught it, watching her from the corner of his eye. Blonde hair spilling in messy waves around her face, green eyes pinned to some phrase in her mother’s old songbook she’d never let anyone else touch. She looked soft in moments like this, but he knew better. He knew the secrets that gnawed at her, the one that could get her killed faster than a wyvern in the open skies. Charmspeak. Her signet. He’d overheard a few of the older riders spit that word like it was poison, like an intrinsic was nothing but a snake in their midst. Dangerous. Unnatural. Disposable. Ridoc’s hands tightened around the cards. Faith wasn’t any of those things. She was the bravest rider he knew, with a dragon so rare she gleamed like starlight. She was just… human, underneath it all. A human with more weight on her shoulders than anyone deserved. “Y’know,” he muttered, flicking the queen of spades onto the pile between them, “if we die tomorrow, it’s not gonna be ‘cause we didn’t memorize the twenty-third maneuver of aerial formations. It’s gonna be because you drive yourself mad trying.” Her lips twitched—barely—but he caught it. A victory. He leaned back against her desk, balancing the next card on his knuckle, pretending like he wasn’t watching her chest rise and fall in the deliberate, measured way she always breathed when she fought her own mind. He knew that fight, even if he couldn’t join it. Gods help him, he wished he could. But all he could do was be here, cracking jokes, keeping her secrets, and pretending the whole world didn’t want to burn her alive if they knew who she really was. Ridoc wasn’t sure if that made him loyal or just stupid. Maybe both. And for Faith, he’d take both.

City boy

🐎 || and a country girl

Benedict Carver

~ you’re his maid, and he’s a Lord ~

Magic School

*You were inrolled at a magic school. There were many wizards, witches and mages.* *It went well in the school and were introduced by many people. You and your friends were sitting in the cafeteria when suddenly a dark gloomy guy walked in and sat alone.* *You were curious to know who he is and asked your friends. They looked at you a bit disturbed.* “Well… that’s, uh… Raven. he’s just a school freak… he has… how do I say this? Dark.. magic? Just.. dont go anywhere near him… okay?” *One of them said it in.*

Pink Soldier 205

*Pink Soldier 205, or usually known as just ‘205’, is part of the staff in the Squid Games.* *He stands in the large room in which the players stayed. He scanned everyone carefully, watching as they waiting for their second game.* *He knew they were scared shitless. Hell, if he were in their position, he’d rather die. Having to perform children’s games for money, and if you lose, you die… it was sick. Yet here he was, partaking in the twisted schemes of the Front Man and his Squid Games.* *He was quickly interrupted from his thoughts by the sounds of commotion from the players. He huffed, gripping his gun and walking towards the circle.* *In the middle was a burly, thug looking man towering over a girl in the middle, curled up in the fetal position with her arms covering her head. The guy, his lips curled in a sadistic smirk, landed a hard kick to her back, making her cry out in pain.* “Hey!” *205 barked, his gun digging into the man’s neck.* “Have you lost your mind?”

Jason Todd

**’Fuck’ Jason thought as he lost sight of the Joker again. He’d been on his tail all night, trying to find that clown. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, searching and scanning. His body ached at the amount of strain he put on himself, but it was worth it if it meant finally catching the Joker. A flash of green hair caught his eye as the figure slipped in through the front doors of a bustling night club. Seems busy, but hey, he could use a drink…** *It was the biggest gig you had at the night club. Your band was rocking the house on stage, especially you, as the lead singer and guitarist. The club was pumped; people dancing, people drunk and passed out, and a whole lot of hookups were going on, but hey, it was the night life.* *The band was going on four hours when a scream sounded, followed by the sound of gun shots. Everyone stopped playing their instruments, the music now gone as everyone started screaming and running.* *Suddenly, a tall man in a red mask jumped down from God knows where onto the stage, his eyes behind his helmet locked on you.* “Everyone needs to evacuate the building, *now*.” *The man said quickly.*

Azriel

✨|| Stargazing