#swordart

[wtf-bugg]

Fanart piece for @chappellroan of her stunning VMA award outfit. I am weak for a gorgeous woman with a sword.

[bodymodificationnation]

By jiro_painter

[sayxit]

KATANA

[junasarts]

Inspired by

Al Sahim Jeanne D'arc, but ended up looking like a Black Lagoon baddie. I really liked the end result.

[kad-zaspite]

Katya told me to make him dreadlocks and I did

[herbivorepr]

There Can Be Only One

Handcut Paper Collage

[lqsword]

“Elegance in design. Power in spirit.”

The Han Jian Sword is a work of historical beauty, forged with a high-carbon steel blade, decorated alloy fittings, and an ornate black scabbard. Perfect for sword lovers and cultural guardians alike.

🛒 Add this iconic piece to your armory: 🔗 https://www.chinesesword.store/products/han-jian-swords-1

[tabhitasakamakitabyfantasyart]

✨🌹Dove tutto è cominciato… ✨🌹

Credo che a livello emotivo questo sia il disegno che ha più valore per me. Disegnare quella che è la mia eroina da quando ho 6 anni è una sfida emotiva non da poco, per fortuna è intervenuta @phenicottero in aiuto che si è presa il compito di disegnare Lady Oscar, piegata dall'ultima battaglia, avvenuta il 14 Luglio 1789 per prendere la Bastiglia. Venendo omaggiata da Nymeria, che inconsciamente o meno possiede diverse sfumature di Oscar, con un rivolo di lacrime e un inchino che dice più di mille parole. Un inchino di rispetto e ringraziamento per tutto quello che Oscar insegna e lascia a chi ne resta innamorato. Se dovessi descrivere cos'è per me Oscar ci metterei due secoli, ma se dovessi dirlo in poche parole direi che è quella figura femminile che mi ha sempre ispirata. Non solo per l'arte della spada e la storia della rivoluzione. È sempre stata l'esempio di come esser forti non vuol dire rinunciare al proprio lato più fragile ed emotivo. Di come si può essere femminili senza pizzi, merletti e trucco. È colei che mi ha insegnato che è sempre giusto lottare per i propri ideali, anche quando il mondo ti dice il contrario. Mi ha insegnato come non sia mai tardi per provare l’amore e, in qualche modo, farsi cambiare da esso. Mi ha insegnato a notare la nobiltà e la gentilezza in ognuno di noi; mi ha reso cosciente di quanto dentro ognuno di noi ci sia un mondo che spesso ci fa paura e non si ha il coraggio di affrontare per quante sfumature possiede. E potrei continuare per ore a raccontare quanto questa figura mi abbia insegnato e plasmato e soprattutto come mi ricordi di non mollare, per quanto la situazione sia straziante. Sinceramente senza Oscar non penso che sarei la stessa che sono oggi. Perciò almeno quest' anno ho voluto farle un piccolo, grande omaggio. 💜

✨🌹Where it all began… ✨🌹

I think on an emotional level this is the drawing that holds the most value for me. Drawing the one who has been my heroine since I was 6 years old is no small emotional challenge, luckily @phenicottero stepped in to help, who took on the task of drawing Lady Oscar, bent over by the last battle, which took place on 14 July 1789 to take the Bastille. Being paid homage by Nymeria, who unconsciously or unconsciously possesses several shades of Oscar, with a trickle of tears and a bow that says more than a thousand words. A bow of respect and thanks for all that Oscar teaches and leaves to those who remain in love with him. If I had to describe what Oscar is to me it would take me two centuries, but if I had to say it in a few words I would say that he is that female figure who has always inspired me. Not only for the art of the sword and the history of revolution. She has always been the example of how being strong does not mean giving up one's more fragile and emotional side. Of how one can be feminine without lace and make-up. She is the one who taught me that it is always right to fight for your ideals, even when the world tells you otherwise. She taught me how it is never late to feel love and, somehow, be changed by it. She taught me to notice the nobility and kindness in each of us; she made me aware of how inside each of us there is a world that often frightens us and we do not have the courage to face because of how many nuances it possesses. And I could go on for hours about how much this figure has taught me and shaped me, and above all how she reminds me not to give up, no matter how heartbreaking the situation. Honestly, without Oscar I don't think I would be the same as I am today. So at least this year I wanted to pay her a small, big tribute. 💜

[megalewdslime]

0198. Samurai Girl

[swordsup99]

Buy Marto Templar Sword – 45-Inch Collectible Masterpiece for History Enthusiasts

[swordsofwarrior]

Blue Glamdring Sword & Orcrist Sword

[dadsoncrafts]

Luciender Sword of Light Replica - Hand-Forged Steel Blade w/ Leather Sheath

Step into Viking legacy with this Luciender Sword of Light replica. This replica boasts a razor-sharp stainless-steel blade and ergonomic cast metal handle. Hand-forged from durable steel, it features a razor-sharp blade, ergonomic handle, and included leather sheath. It is perfect for collectors, historical displays, or as a striking gift for birthdays, weddings, or cosplay enthusiasts.

🔗 View the product here

[milkbobatyun]

dont cry, my darling

pairing: soshiro hoshina x fem!reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: somehow, hoshina soshiro was always the reason for your tears

word count: 1k

a/n: i liked soshiro first, before i even met him (in the anime) i liked him. YOU HATE HIM COMPARED TO HOW MUCH I LIKE HIM ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭ (pls smw get this reference) literally such a simp for him, i hope this fic does him justice

the hospital room was illuminated by the watery moonlight, filtering through the paper thin curtains covering the windows on the far side of the room. the steady metronome of the heart monitor was the first thing soshiro heard as he woke up from his sleep.

he stared listlessly up at the grey ceiling, breathing in the antiseptic smell that lingered in the room. as he regained consciousness, he was aware of a dull ache of pain throbbing through his body, white bandages wrapped around his chest. perhaps he over-exerted himself in the battle against number 10.

he lay still in the comfort of the bed, eyes scanning around the room. it seemed that the rest of the patients had long since recovered from their wounds, the rest of the beds were empty.

a tight grip encased his hand, where it rested beside him. turning his head, he saw your form, slumped onto the bed, head resting against your arm, as you slept. 

the shadows haunting underneath your eyes told him of your worry, how long you had stayed awake, waiting for him. your hair was messy mane around your head, though it didn’t take away from your beauty.

moonbeams smiled upon your face, their cheerful light catching on the dried tear stains running down the apples of your cheeks. 

he sat up with an effort, a quiet grunt echoing throughout the empty room. he lovingly admired your sleeping form, his usual close-eyed smile morphing into one of sadness. it seemed that he was always the reason for your tears.

MEMORY I

it had been your fifth birthday, and your second year of moving into his neighbourhood.

that day, you had excitedly knocked on the hoshina residence’s front door, both hands eagerly clutching the sparkly pink handbag you just received from your parents.

you waited in anticipation at the front door, hopping from foot to foot in excitement, eyes sparkling when you hear the door slide open.

with your best manners, you greeted soshiro’s father, who had opened the door. in the shadows of the foyer, soshiro lingered, peeking and listening in. he should’ve been practicing his swordart, but you were more important. for you, he would drop everything to keep you company.

“good morning, mr hoshina!” you beamed up at him, a gap where your two front teeth should’ve been. “it’s my birthday today! i was wondering if… if soshiro could come and celebrate with me.” you blinked up at him, hope shining from your face.

his father had rumbled something in response. from behind the door, soshiro watched your eyes well with tears, your bottom lip trembling with the effort of holding them back.

the sun glistened, light reflecting off of the salty droplets as they fell.

it was only after your fervent pleading and watery puppy dog eyes that his father had finally relented, allowing his son to spend his day with you, though he had strictly ordered soshiro complete 30 extra sets of exercises the next day.

to soshiro, it was all worth it, just to see you smile.

MEMORY II

the next time he had made you cry was merely a few months after your seventh birthday.

the two of you were playing around in your backyard, flying your kite. a rogue wind snatched up your kite, throwing it into the intricate branches of the peach tree. your face fell almost immediately, lips turning down into a frown.

when he caught sight of your gloomy face, soshiro immediately sprung into action. he scampered up the tree like a monkey, carefully untangling the kite from the grasp of the tree.

yet, as he was climbing back down, his foot slipped, causing him to land in an undignified heap at the foot of the tree. the rough bark of the tree had scraped at his knee, a small river of blood leaking.

such a sight made you feel guilty. soshiro had gotten himself injured trying to help you. as you dabbed at his wound with an alcohol-soaked cotton, tears leaked from your eyes, while you repeatedly mumbled apologies.

soshiro only gave you a wide-smile, gently pinching your cheeks between his fingers, as he teased you.

“what a crybaby!” he laughed, smile stretching from ear to ear. “smile for me!”

through your tears and blurry vision, you gave him a wobbly smile.

MEMORY III

when soshiro had left for the defence force, you had spent a whole week, holed up in your room, fuming with anger. 

how dare that bowlcut prick not tell you he was leaving and had signed up for the defence force? if this idiot had thought that he could just up and leave without a word to his girlfriend, he should be prepared to catch some hands, or slippers, when he returned.

months passed and you didn’t hear a peep from him. as the date of your 1 year anniversary grew closer, you slowly began to lose hope.

as you trudged home from work, kicking a loose stone as  you went by, you quietly cursed soshiro under your breath, the string of curses growing as you neared your home.

suddenly, a large bouquet is thrust under your nose. looking up, you see none other than the devil himself, mr hoshina soshiro, standing and grinning, covered in bandages and his defence force uniform thrown over it, holding a comically large bouquet of flowers, with your favourite snacks stuffed between some of flowers.

tears pooled in your eyes as your tired brain finally registers that after months of no contact, here he was, your boyfriend, in the flesh, with a cheesy grin on his face.

seeing your bottom lip tremble, soshiro panicked, engulfing you in a hug as your salty tears soak into his uniform as you sobbed complaints about how you thought he died.

soshiro is brought back to the present when he hears you stir, mumbling something in your sleep. 

reaching behind him, he plumps up one of the numerous pillows cushioning him, before gently removing his hand from your grasp, lifting your head and nestling a pillow underneath.

he quietly slipped his hand back into yours. catching sight of your empty left hand, he brainstormed what type of ring you would like, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

he hoped, the next time he made you cry, it would be tears of joy.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @nfekwefdskldm (FELLOW SOSHIRO SIMP !!)

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

[kad-zaspite]

Hello there 👀

[schweizercomics]

Swashtober 2: Agnes de Chastillon, aka Dark Agnes, from a pair of stories by Conan author Robert E. Howard. Agnes is a teen forced into marriage who kills the groom, flees, and becomes a swordist and intriguer.

#DarkAgnes #RobertEHoward #Swashbuckler #Swashbucklers #SwordArt #swords