drawing her with straight hair just healed me i think
[id: three images with digital drawings of nya from ninjago. on the first image there is a colored drawing of her from the thighs up. she is standing with one hand on her hip and the other holding her trident in front of her casually. she is wearing a gray tank top and her maroon gi is tied around her waist. she is looking at something straight on, with her chin tilted down and a serious look in her face. next to that there is a headshot of her with short hair in a bowl cut. she is frowning and looking to the side.
the second image has three doodles. the first one is a headshot of her turned to the right but looking left. she is smiling, her eyes squinted slightly, and she has one brow raised. she is drawn with with her hair in a high ponytail, a chunk of hair falling off the ponytail and onto her neck and her bangs messy on her forehead. next to that theres a doodle of her with her head tilted up and to the side as she smiles wide, her eyes squinting. she is facing the left but is looking at something over her shoulder. the last drawing is of her with short hair. she is drawn from the waist up, she is wearing a tank top and her arms crossed; she is frowning as if judging someone.
the last image has three headshots, two of nya and one of kai from ninjago. the first one is a side profile headshot of nya turned to the left. she is drawn with east asian features, mostly her nose and she is drawn with her bangs messy, her hair in a high ponytail except for some strands that stay on her neck. below that theres the other two headshots. these are drawn sude by side and facing the viewer completely. kai is on the left and nya on the right. they are drawn with similar features, nose and eyes, and they are both drawn with neutral expressions with their eyes looking towards the right./ end id]
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Davos going to patrol the border like he does every night, only for him to find his enemy wounded in the grass, leaning against the stack of border stones they regularly argued over.
Blackwood crimson spilling through his golden Bracken tunic, coating his fingers, slipping from his lips.
Aeron's eyes would meet his hazily, caught somewhere between fear and acceptance. "C'm h're t'finish the-" he'll pause so he can cough blood all over his tunic, " -job?" he finish, looking through his lashes.
Davos will realize his kin drew blood, in the dead of night. They drew Bracken blood. No.
No they drew His blood. Aeron's blood. His beloved's blood.
And had been too cowardly to finish the job. They had left him here to die, no doubt an omen about touching border stones. His wounds left to weep the colors of house Blackwood, stripping him of his own Houses colors as he bled out.
It was cruel, and now Aeron expected him to continue the torture.... so one could only imagine the shock that cast over the Brackens face when the Blackwood kneeled before him, inspecting the litany of stab wounds in the other's side.
"Who?" he'll mutter under his breath as he presses hands to the wounds, "Do you know who did this? Names?"
The Bracken won't speak, not at first, confused and unable to find his voice past the pain and shock and utter bafflement running through his head. And when he doesn't, Davos will put a hand to his cheek, bringing his chin up so they can see eye to eye. Aeron will find fear in that bright blue gaze. It will scare him.
"Who did this to you, B- Aeron? tell me, please tell me," his voice so much softer than normal, even as fuery broiled deep in his chest, his thumb gently padding Aeron's cheek.
"... didn't..... couldn't see..... th'y w're there 'n then gone."
Davos nod's, but hate the answer nonetheless. Aeron was no help, typical Bracken, but Davos would find them. Davos would make them pay for their cowardess, for laying a hand on his beloved.
For now, he would sink his weight into the other's wound, apologizing gently when the brunette hissed and bit down a scream. If he rested their foreheads together, a whispered, "I'm sorry" falling from his lips, comforting the Bracken beneath him, no, no he didn't.
He doesn't know what to do. His Bracken is hurt. He's bleeding. He's in pain. He's dying.
"It's ok Bracken, easy now, I'm.... I'm going to take you someplace safe... I'm going to take care of you now," and he was wrapping his cloak around the other's middle, pulling it tight until the brunette was whining beneath him, "I said easy, it's alright."
Aeron's eyes were on him. They were afraid, so afraid. His skin was pale and clammy, shining sickly in the moonlight. His soft red whore lips splattered in bright crimson. His hair was hanging in his eyes, soft strands pulling down from his braid. Davos smoothed them away.
"It's ok, it'll be ok," he kissed the Bracken's forehead, "I'm here," he kissed him, like he had always longed to, his lips falling onto Aeron's, attempting to savor how soft and plump they were, but the others lips are too slack, too cool. He tastes blood before he even gets a chance to sink in his teeth and they hesitate to flee when he bites. It's all wrong.
When Aeron huffs against him, attempting to shift his lips to kiss back, Davis will pull back, peck him once more, and then in one fluid motion, pull him up into his arms, shifting to stand.
The kiss will have worked as enough of a distraction to keep him from screaming in the moment, and the myriad of kisses he presses to those soft lips now, swallow up any that escape Aeron's throat.
"Hush now," he whispers, straining ever so slightly under the others weight, "we're going somewhere safe, just trust me."
He doesn't know where they're going, but they're going together. If Ser Aeron Bracken dies tonight, he will die in the arms of Davos Blackwood, and Davos will follow him shortly after. Their bodies will be found in the clearing by the river, curled amongst one another. Their houses will go to war for this, no doubt, but that will be fine. They'll be dead, they won't know better or have any strong feelings about it.
And if Aeron Bracken finds it in himself to pull through, who knows where their fate might lead.
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