#Seaside Sibling Train
Note
Hellooo helloo, I love all your Luke stories so muchh!!
Could I have a request for Luke x Poseidon’s daughter reader something about her joining him even betraying her brother Percy because love prevails all so like their love is the most powerful thing of all.. hope that makes sense in a way hahaha okay thank youuu 😙💗💕✨
thank you so much for reading my stories, I’m so glad you like them ☺️
luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: betrayal, reader’s kinda blinded by love but also kinda cute, little fluff at the end
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
Thirteen wasn't exactly the age you pictured discovering you were a demigod. Apparently, you had blissfully –or maybe obliviously— muddled through your first thirteen years completely oblivious to the mythological world that simmered just beneath your feet.
Your life had been a quiet one. Growing up in a sleepy seaside town, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore was the soundtrack to your existence. You felt a weird connection to the water, an inexplicable pull towards the ocean whenever you stood on the beach. But you attributed that to nothing more than a love for swimming and a healthy dose of wanderlust, you thought.
Then came the satyr. Grover Underwood, a nervous wreck of a creature with a perpetually startled expression. You don´t remember much about your life back then, just the way he stammered through an explanation about Greek myths being real, your parentage being linked to a god, and the pressing need for you to get to a safe haven called Camp Half-Blood.
And now here you were. Years went by, living at Camp Half-Blood, and being the only child of Poseidon.
Camp was always bustled with activity. Laughter echoed across the training fields, campers sparred with celestial bronze swords. Yet, amidst the chaos, a subtle sense of loneliness lingered around you. You weren't friendless, not by any stretch of the imagination. You had a close circle of friends, but there was a specific kind of lonely feeling that came with being the only child of Poseidon at camp, a forbidden child.
The other cabins, they all teemed with siblings. —mostly—. Shared history, inside jokes, and the comfort of knowing someone else understood exactly what it meant to have the same god for a parent – these were things you craved. There was a gap, a yearning for a familial connection that none of your friends could fully fill.
Then came Percy.
His arrival at camp was nothing short of spectacular. A blue-eyed twelve-year-old with a knack for attracting trouble. During a particularly intense Capture the Flag game, Annabeth, a sharp-tongued daughter of Athena with a strategic mind, shoved Percy into the lake. The air crackled with gasps and surprises as a shimmering green trident materialized above Percy´s head, claiming him for Poseidon.
The revelation sent a jolt through you. You, the solitary child of the sea god, suddenly had a sibling. Percy looked up at you with wide, startled eyes, a mixture of awe and apprehension playing on his face. It was like looking into a mirror reflecting a younger version of yourself, the same confusion etched on his features.
Percy looked up to you with a hero-worship that both amused and touched you. He saw in you a reflection of his own mother, Sally Jackson, with her kindness and unwavering belief in the good in others. You became his confidante, his guide through the intricate social landscape of Camp Half-Blood.
But you weren't the only one who welcomed Percy. Luke, your closest friend at camp, was equally happy for your newfound family, —or so he faked it very well. Percy quickly found himself asking you both all the questions he had and spending all his training session´s with Luke.
You and Luke were a natural fit. Both of you skilled warriors, blessed with the agility of Hermes and the raw power of the sea. You sparred together often, your movements a dance of attack and parry, a language only the two of you seemed to understand. Your laughter echoed through the camp, and more than once, you caught Percy or other campers shooting you hesitant glances, not really knowing what your relationship was about, a thin line between friends love and-, other type of love, drawn in between.
And yes, Luke loved you, and you loved him. So much, that´d you´d be able to do anything for each other. Little did Percy know.
The metallic clang of your celestial bronze sword echoed through the silent woods, a jarring counterpoint to the chirping of nocturnal crickets. Percy, his breath ragged and sweat stinging his eyes, pushed back against Luke's relentless assault. Betrayal gnawed at his gut, a viper coiling tighter with every parry and thrust.
Luke, his once friendly face twisted with a manic fervor, pressed the attack. Every word that left his lips was a fresh wound: about the Olympians' manipulation, about the power promised by Kronos, about how this wasn't meant to betray him, or anyone.
Suddenly, the clang of steel meeting steel ceased. Percy stumbled back, his heart hammering in his chest, as Luke lowered his sword. A flicker of hope, fragile and fleeting, ignited within him.
"Percy," Luke said, his voice quieter now, a hint of desperation creeping in. "This is not what you want, trust me. Last chance."
Percy stared at him, the hope dying as quickly as it had flickered. How could Luke even suggest such a thing, joining him? Didn't he understand the consequences?
Before he could retort, a new figure emerged from the shadows of the trees behind Luke. His breath caught in his throat, eyes twitching as he tried his best to focus on the figure coming from the forest. You.
A flicker of relief washed over Percy as he saw you emerge from the shadows. "yn” he called out, hope blossoming in his chest.
You stepped into the scene, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your features. But something was off. You weren't rushing to his side, face etched with concern as it usually was. Instead, you stood there, a strange stillness cloaking you.
"Percy" you finally said, your voice cool and controlled, lacking it´s usual warmth.
Confusion warred with the relief. "yn" he repeated, his voice unsteady. "Clarisse didn't – it was him" he stammered, pointing at Luke with his sword. "He stole the bolt. He's joining Kronos"
Percy expected outrage, surprise, anything. Instead, your expression remained unreadable. A shadow flickered across your face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"I know what he did" you replied simply. The calmness in your voice sent a shiver down his spine. The casualness of your reply was scary. It was like you were talking about the weather, not a world-shattering betrayal.
There was something wrong. Terribly wrong.
"Then help me" he pleaded, a desperate edge creeping into his voice.
You met his gaze for a long, agonizing moment. Percy saw a flicker of something weird in your eyes, something that made your pupils blown. But then, it was gone, replaced by a fire that mirrored Luke's.
A slow realization dawned on him, cold and heavy in his gut. You weren't surprised. You weren't angry. You knew.
Percy's heart hammered against his ribs. He saw the familiar hilt of your celestial bronze sword hanging loosely at your belt, the moonlight glinting off the polished metal.
"Percy, I can't do that" you said, your voice barely a whisper.
Percy understood then. You weren't caught in the middle. You weren´t with him, you were with Luke, all the way. The truth slammed into him, a betrayal far worse than anything he could have imagined. You were a traitor.
Percy felt like you'd ripped open a fresh wound in his chest and poured lemon juice in it. This sister, this family he'd thought he'd found at camp, meant nothing to you in the face of this rebellion? The anger coursing through him was laced with a bitter disappointment that gnawed at his insides. He'd trusted Luke blindly, sure, but you were different. He'd looked up to you, confided in you. The betrayal cut deep.
"You're with him?" he choked out, the question laced with disbelief and a raw, wounded vulnerability. He couldn´t wrap his mind around it.
"I'm not with him, Percy" you countered, taking a hesitant step forward. He flinched back, the movement a physical manifestation of the emotional chasm that had suddenly opened between you. The pain that flickered across your face was a punch to his gut, but he couldn't ignore the conviction in your voice. "We're together" you continued. "We created this."
Percy couldn't believe what he was hearing. You were so convinced, so blinded by whatever twisted loyalty you felt for Luke, that you couldn't see the bigger picture. "How could you?" he roared, his voice raw with emotion. "How could you do this, to everyone who trusts you? To the people who love you?"
You scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Come on, Percy, you want to talk about betrayal? Let's talk about our father." The words hung heavy in the air, a challenge laden with bitterness. A sudden breeze swept through the woods, rustling the leaves and carrying the salty scent of the ocean as if a wave had crashed nearby. It seemed like even the sea itself reacted to your words.
"Let's talk about the gods" you pressed, your voice laced with a bitter venom. "They get bored at the Olympus, so they play their pretty games, making mortals fall for them and then discarding them like broken toys. Mortals like your mom, like mine. And they leave us, their children, to pick up the pieces."
Percy groaned in frustration. "They're not perfect" he admitted, "they're trying their best for us"
"Don't bullshit me" you say. The calmer your voice was, the more fear Percy felt. "I don’t wanna fight, Percy, but they couldn´t care less”
Luke´s face partially obscured by the shadows, but the jagged scar across his cheek was visible under the moonlight. It was a constant reminder of the failed quest Hermes had sent him on, a cruel mark of a father's neglect.
Percy's gaze flicked between you and Luke, a sudden understanding dawning on him. Your words, your anger, your sadness. It wasn't just about Kronos or overthrowing the Olympians. It was about a deeper wound, a festering resentment born from years of feeling abandoned by your father, his father too. He understood, but he didn´t think it was right.
"But you can't be serious" he finally choked out. "This isn't the answer. There has to be another way."
A flicker of sadness crossed your features, a stark contrast to the steely resolve you'd presented earlier. It was a fleeting glimpse, a crack in the facade you'd constructed, and it tugged at Percy's heartstrings. No, it wasn't jealousy or envy. It was a deeper, more profound sense of loss. You weren't angry at him for having a father who cared just a little bit, for having a family he cherished. You were simply… sad. Sad that you never had that, that your only family was Luke, and that his arrival, however welcome it initially felt, couldn't erase the years of loneliness you'd endured.
Percy´s eyes darted behind you, to Luke.
"Why are you dragging her into this?" Percy demanded, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and protectiveness. He knew you weren't the mastermind, Luke was the one who had poisoned your trust, manipulated your resentment.
"It's not that hard to understand, Percy" you answered before Luke could speak. Your voice held a quiet defiance, a loyalty that both warmed and stung him. "We're together" you repeated, the words laced with a quiet strength that resonated deep within him.
Then it hit him, another wave of realization crashing over him like a rogue wave. It wasn't just loyalty or a shared cause that bound you to Luke. There was something more, something deeper that flickered in your eyes whenever you looked at him.
"You love him" Percy whispered, the words hanging heavy in the air. And it wasn´t a question either, he knew.
A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but you didn't deny it. "We understand each other, Percy. We know what it's like to be unseen, unheard. Isn't that what love is? Empathy, understanding?"
A tear escaped your eye, glistening in the moonlight. Percy could see the pain, the longing in your eyes, how you clinged to the only thing that hugged you back; Luke.
“You’re blind” Percy whispered, hand instinctively groping to the handle of his sword.
"No, Percy" you countered, your voice soft but firm. "I'm awake. I see things for what they are. You know what it feels like, right? To have one person who understands you, who truly sees you" you continued. Your voice softened even further, a hint of vulnerability entering the equation. "Sally, isn't it?"
He flinched at the mention of his mother's name.
"That's love, P." you said, using the nickname you'd once shared. The sound of it sent a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill from his eyes, mirroring the glistening in your own. "And to me, to us" you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "that's the most powerful thing."
Percy saw the love for Luke burning bright in your eyes, a love that had blinded you to the potential destruction you were embracing. He saw the pain of neglect, the longing for acceptance that fueled your rebellion. But most of all, he saw a glimmer of hope, a flicker of doubt that your tear-filled eyes betrayed.
The weight of your words settled on Percy like a lead blanket. He understood the path you were on, but he couldn't just let you walk away, couldn't let you be consumed by this darkness. The thought of ever having to fight you, to raise his sword against his own sister, filled him with a dread that eclipsed even the fear of facing Kronos himself.
With a desperate surge of defiance, Percy lunged at you, Riptide flashing in the moonlight. You reacted with lightning reflexes, a blur of blue as you deflected his attack with your own celestial bronze sword. The clang of metal echoed through the silent woods, a discordant note in the tense atmosphere.
The fight was short, brutal, and utterly one-sided. You were older, more experienced, and fueled by a burning conviction that mirrored Percy's own determination. A quick twist of your wrist, a disarming maneuver honed through years of training, and Riptide clattered to the ground several feet away.
Percy landed hard on the leaf-strewn ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He lay there, disarmed, defeated, and utterly heartbroken. Betrayal gnawed at him, a bitter cocktail of anger and sorrow.
A single tear escaped your eye, tracing a glistening path down your cheek. You knelt down beside him, your touch surprisingly gentle on his shoulder. "Percy," you said, your voice thick with emotion, "you're my brother. I don´t wanna leave you”
Percy looked up at you, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a storm of conflicting emotions. "Then why?" he choked out, his voice hoarse. "Why are you doing this?"
"Come with me” you continued, your voice softening further. “Come with us, Percy”
A long silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.
"I can't, yn" he said, his voice firm despite the tremor that ran through him. "I won't be a part of this, it´s not fair."
A flicker of pain crossed your features. You rose to your feet then, your expression unreadable again.
A curt nod was your only response before you swiped a hand across your cheek, wiping away the traitorous tear. Bending down, you retrieved your celestial bronze sword, the moonlight glinting coldly off its surface.
"Then I guess I won't see you for a while, little one" you said, your voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions. Percy almost flinched at the nickname, a stark reminder of the bond you once shared. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, a suffocating feeling that left him breathless.
Suddenly, a hand clamped softly onto your arm. You whipped around, eyes focusing on Luke, his face grim.
"We have to go" he said urgently, his voice laced with a barely concealed panic.
You glanced back at Percy, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and steely resolve. A million unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a silent plea for you to reconsider, to choose family over rebellion.
But your path was laid. With a final, longing look at Percy, you took a few steps towards a cluster of crumbling ruins that stood there sentinel. Luke reached for your hand, his grip tight with a mix of reassurance and desperation.
Percy watched, a cold dread settling in his gut, as Luke traced a final line, completing the arcane symbol etched onto the column. The air shimmered, a blueish light pooling in the center of the ruins. It widened, forming a shimmering curtain that pulsed with an otherworldly energy.
Luke leaned in, whispering something in your ear. You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips for a fleeting moment. Then Luke, his face a mask of grim determination, looked back at Percy for a final time. And with a final squeeze of his hand, you both stepped into the shimmering portal. The blue light intensified for a moment, blinding Percy momentarily.
And then just like that, you were gone.
The portal spat you out in a blackness so thick it felt like a physical presence. The air was heavy with the smell of salt and wet sand. You stumbled forward, disoriented, hand instinctively tightening on Luke's. His grip was firm, anchoring you in the swirling darkness.
"Whoa, careful" he murmured, his voice a welcome sound in the suffocating silence.
He took a tentative step forward, then another, testing the ground. You followed suit, your steps hesitant and laced with a growing unease.
"Come on" he said, his voice tinged with urgency, "we gotta get to-"
He cut himself off abruptly as he realized you weren't moving. You stood rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on something beyond him, your grip on his hand tightening almost painfully.
Luke turned you gently, his brow furrowed in concern as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes. The moonlight, pale and ghostly, illuminated the glistening tracks on your cheeks.
"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry. He cupped your face in his calloused hands, his touch a familiar comfort in the unsettling darkness.
You choked back a sob, the tears overflowing again. "Am I doing the right thing, Luke?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the crashing waves. "I lost my family, again. Percy. He doesn’t-…”
The raw pain in your voice tore at his heart. He knew this path, this rebellion, would come at a cost, but seeing the emotional toll it was taking on you was a gut punch.
"Hey, hey, look at me" he coaxed, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. His gaze was steady, filled with a fierce loyalty that had always been a source of strength for you.
"We were on this path way before Percy arrived, remember?" he asked, his voice firm yet soothing.
You nodded slowly, a single tear tracing a path down your cheek.
"I need you to be strong for me, angel” he continued, his thumb brushing away the tear. "You´re what keeps me going."
He placed a tender kiss on your forehead. "I'll give you everything" he murmured, his voice a low promise. "I promise I'll give you the life you deserve"
Then, he trailed a line of kisses down your cheek, his lips lingering on yours in a final, lingering and sweet kiss.
It was meant to be a reassurance, but it sent a wave of conflicting emotions crashing through you. There was comfort in his touch, a flicker of the love you shared, but it was overshadowed by a gnawing doubt.
When you finally pulled back, a shaky breath escaping your lips, Luke took your hand, his touch gentle yet firm. He looked out at the vast expanse of ocean, then scanned the horizon.
You followed his gaze, squinting through the darkness. A faint flicker of white lights danced in the distance, a beacon in the vast blackness.
"Come on" he said, his voice tinged with newfound purpose. "We gotta get to the cruise."
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#pjo series#pjo#luke castellan x you#luke x reader#luke castellan one shot#luke castellan fic#luke castellan imagine#pjo x reader#pjo x you#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x female reader#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan blurb#luke castellan drabble#luke percy jackson
339 notes
·
View notes
Text
｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡Basics｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡
Name ◦ Marian Varlineau
✦Nicknames✦
Mari ◦ Only people she's close with can call her this. *trust don't try it.
MarMar ◦ The orphan children of Ishgard call her this; she considers them all her own.
Roaring Wind ◦ Given to her by her father, Strong Wave *she was a force to be reckoned with as a child.
Age ◦ 35
Nameday ◦ 10th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon
Race ◦ Hyur
Gender ◦ Female she/they
Orientation ◦ Pan
Profession ◦ Ishgardian Knight/The Blood Dragoon, Blacksmith/Goldsmith in training
✦Physical Aspects✦
Hair ∘ Raven black at birth but is now drained to grey and blue from plunging into the void far too often.
Eyes ∘ Blue at birth also drained to gray; her eyesight wasn't affected.
Skin ∘ Fair-skinned at birth, drained to more of that of a corpse.
Tattoos/Scars ∘ No tattoos, but her body holds many scars, cuts from blades to deep bites marks from fiends.
✦Family✦
Strong Wave
Father, former Limsa guardsmen
Currently ∘ Alive and enjoying retirement as a fisherman.
Ovort Drudaut
Father, former Ishgardian chocobo trainer
Currently ∘ Alive and is also enjoying retirement with his beloved.
Siblings ∘ None to speak of.
Grandparents ∘ Her parents spoke of them but never had the urge to ever go see them.
✦In-laws and Others✦
Alberic Bale
Estinien's adoptive father and mentor. When Marian is on patrol, she always takes the time to visit him. She keeps him informed about Estinien, so he'll never have to worry.
Gethwine Cherrier
She was an elderly neighbor to her parents when they had a home in Ul'dah together. When Marian was a baby, she was left on her doorstep. Her parents stepped in, noticing Mrs.Cherrier struggling to care for Marian on her own, and they've loved her as their own ever since.
Pets ∘ None at the moment, but she has an affinity for birds.
✦Skills✦
Ground lancer ∘ Strong thrusts and stabs
Aerial lancer/Dragoon ∘ High jumps and piercing
Hunter ∘ Be it man or fiend, she will find it.
Hobbies ∘ Learning Ishgardian customs and cuisines, keeping gear and weapons maintained, growing flowers, and making toys for children.
✦Traits✦
Most Positive Trait ∘
Determination
No matter how hopeless something may seem, she will go on, even if it means her end.
Most Negative Trait ∘
Self-righteousness
She will sometimes put herself upon a pedestal, only to be humbled later. *she never learns.
✦Likes✦
Colors ∘
Dusty blue, blood red, black, royal blue
Smells ∘
Mountain air, seaside, patchouli, smoke, old steel, dried blood
Textures ∘
Flower petals, cold steel, rough leather, silk sheets
Drinks ∘
Hot chocolate and any strong ales or wines
✦Other Details✦
Smokes ∘
When stressed or traveling, she will use the kiseru.
Drinks ∘
Heavily *she doesn't want to talk about it.
Drugs ∘
She messed around with a few things in her youth, but nothing crazy.
Mount Issuance ∘
Lir is her faithful chocobo, and since her father was a skilled chocobo trainer, he became her mentor, sharing with her all the secrets for the perfect bond.
Been Arrested ∘
Yes, penalty of tavern fights. *she never starts it; she only finishes it.
｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡
Thank you for tagging me @ubejamjar@avampyone@idalenn ❤
@starrysnowdrop@notarchonzachlol@izayoiri@captainqster@damian-elero@madalyn-maeve
Please feel free to make one!
#ffxiv#ffxiv oc#marian varlineau#ffxiv dragoon#ffxiv hyur#ffxiv oc lore#ffxiv gpose#ffxiv ishgard#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv screenshots#au
21 notes
·
View notes
Photo
MAGICAL REALISM FIC REC: Below you’ll find fics that have magical elements to them that blend fantasy with reality in their own ways.
📖 Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse (187k)
How close is too close? Harry and Louis are about to find out after a drunken night leaves Louis cursed. With only a week before tour starts, the race is on to fix things before they lose Louis forever. Oh, and Harry has to keep his long-time crush on Louis a secret while the lad can literally hear his thoughts. Easy, right?
Featuring ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.
📖 hymn for the wretched & divine by @wlwmermald (126k)
Death loses a bet with a mischievous and lively mortal by the name of Louis Tomlinson, who loves his old cat too much, the price being he must unconditionally befriend Louis. Death ends up getting more than he bargained for.
📖 Si Pudiera Volar by by @softfonds (69k)
When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.
Or, a fic loosely based on Corazón Salvaje.
📖 Take on Me by @haztobegood (60k)
Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leading role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?
📖 Driftwood by @justanothershadeofblue (51k)
Eroda was all Harry knew. He lived there all his life, but he always knew he was peculiar. He had dreams that go beyond this small, cold, and lonely island. He wanted to leave; he HAD to leave. But that meant leaving Louis...
Harry is a lonely and depressed popstar who sailed out of his hometown on Eroda years ago to chase his dreams. He comes back to the island only to find his shining childhood best friend Louis just as cold and dreary as the island they grew up on.
📖 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie (46k)
Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.
Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.
A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.
📖 Soul of the Sea by @vurdoc (32k)
Louis lives a nomadic lifestyle. Never settling down in one place for long, he finds himself caught in a storm, as he’s passing through a small Scottish seaside town.
Everywhere is full, except the old B&B perched up on an isolated hill near the coastline, where the recluse owner isn’t what he seems.
Then again, who really is?
A fic about belonging, supernatural beings, and finding your own home.
📖 Fate & Chance by @zanniscaramouche (31k)
Haunted by his own ghost, the Duke von Tomlin fears for his safety and sanity as the days tick down to his certain engagement with the Crown Prince of Vienna. Meanwhile the travelling magician Hassenheim takes residency in a well established theatre, drawing mass crowds with his awe-inspiring illusions. Is it fate or chance that entwines their paths?
📖 The Honeycomb Bed and Breakfast by @daggerandrose (8k)
“I’m sorry, but where did we land?” He asks one of the flight attendants when he reaches the door.
“We’re in Bucharest.”
It takes a minute for Harry to process the location. “Romania? I was supposed to go to Rome, not Romania! How does that happen?”
or the one where Harry's work trip to Italy makes a tiny detour to Bucharest, Romania and he has to find a place to stay.
📖 i was at an all night diner by @yoursongonmyheart (5k)
"I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine."
//or, the one where none of the boys can sleep and they all meet at a diner where it's always 3 a.m.
📖 The kaleidoscope of your eyes by @greenblueish (4k)
They are greeted by a young, handsome man in his late twenties, dressed in wide black trousers and a purple silky dress shirt. Usually Louis is quick to judge such daring pieces of clothing, as this colour in particular can easily look like a cheap Halloween costume imitation of a computer game character, but at this sight, he can think of no criticism. Except that there’s no way in hell that this man has the medical knowledge to cure his neighbour’s tumour.
or, the one where Harry, disguised as an alternative practitioner, uses his magic to cure people's health issues and Louis doesn't believe in the faith healer until he meets him himself.
📖 'Cause I Just Wanna Feel Alive by @goldenkinglouis (3k)
“Oh, cheers, mate, but I don’t do dates.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you–” he waved vaguely.
Louis shook his head. “No, it’s just… been too long for me.”
“And how might I convince you otherwise?” Harry asked, his eyes glistening under the lights.
OR: Louis is a lost, lonely vampire. Harry is the witch who brings him home.
📖 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt (3k)
Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.
📖 all was golden in the sky by @daydreaming-sunflower (1k)
The Sun and the Moon are in love.
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
INTRODUCING YOUR FAVORITE BOTTLE-BLONDED SKEPTIC, THE REBEL. KNOWN MOST AFFECTIONATELY AS DANTE, HATER OF AUTHORITY & LOVER OF CARTHEFT.
NAMED DANTE NEVEK. KNOWN AS DON, DANNY. DOB OCTOBER 15TH, 1977. PLACE OF BIRTH AGADIR, MOROCCO. GENDER CIS MAN. PRONOUNS HE/HIM. ORIENTATION DEMISEXUAL. OCCUPATION PRO BOXER, POLITICAL ORGANIZER. FACECLAIM EMILIO SAKRAYA. POSITIVE TRAITS ASTUTE, DEVOTED, OBSERVANT. NEGATIVE TRAITS REPRESSED, CYNICAL, IMPULSIVE. RESIDENCE. CONVERTED FLAT IN BROOKLYN, NY. HEIGHT. SIX FOOT ONE INCH. EYES. DARK BROWN, FAWNING. HAIR. BLEACH BLOND, CROPPED SIDES + WAVY TEXTURE. ANNOMALIES. HEAVILY TATTOOED, FEW HAPHAZARD SCARS FROM FIGHTING BOTH IN THE RING AND OTHERWISE.
PRELUDE
you are coddled between the murky nowhere wedged between dreamy isle’s of palm & discarded american dreams. you’re a young thing with stars in your eyes; the others see this and smother you in their palms until you’re merely a streak of shimmering stardust because dreams aren’t for survivors. because your mother never wanted to be a mother and your father wasn’t the kind of man she’d trust with her heart, let alone you with your chubby hands and big eyes. giving you up was just the right thing to do, but at the very least, didn’t you deserve to dream a moment longer ? as it turns out, dreams are riddled inconsequential for little boys with hardly enough belongings to cram into a tattered napsack. but so long as you have the room for it, you hold onto this one thing: you’ll get out of here one day & by god, you won’t look back.
you’re nine when you pickpocket your first tourist, and ten when you successfully pull your first con. the descent is unseen, but occurs quicker than you realize and before you know you’re no longer the one cowling beneath the wings of those who came before you. you’re still the boy with the bright eyes but now, you’ve got even brighter ideas & happen to know your way around a shoddy hot wiring job or two. suddenly you’re fourteen with hardly a lick of peach fuzz dotting your features when you first become a ward of the court & you’re fifteen when a man who you had never known existed makes you one of the lucky ones. rather than aging out of a system that you had spent too long outrunning, you are withdrawn from juvenile holding on account of being placed beneath his conservatorship.
ACT ONE
sooner than you know, everything & everyone you’d known including your self-professed sibling with the kind eyes and the slit in his lip merely faded into a sunny break on the horizon. upstate new york becomes your new home & if you are to stay out of trouble you are made to make yourself something useful. days spent siphoning old gas & racing through the odd junctions of your seaside town come nightfall turn into even longer days as an unfavored ward. as you saw it, not even the dusty summer heat could sweat out that streak for havoc you had come to learn to know so far before your time—even seas away, you couldn’t outrun the law. teen years are spent pinned to the hoods of county cruisers just to be out of the pin come the end of the week while stark dreams continue to fade.
ACT TWO
you spend your latter years giving hell to whatever boarding schools your guardian could enlist you in. become someone different, still a blaring asteroid, but some of your edges have refined. you learn what it means to be a society man—how to properly despise such a title. though these efforts were not made to entirely change you, rather, another outlet was found. instead of brawling with whomever looked at you funnily enough, the largest portion of your time was spent training in mixed martial arts. if you're going to be violent, you will learn to honor your craft.
ACT THREE
as a young man, you fall into sync with the ballad of a runaway train, horn steadily blaring as you utterly veer off the rails while onlookers can merely speculate in utter horror. luckily enough, you’re not the only one in this dusty old house pushed to your brink out of boredom so you slot well into your place with the rest of the small town miscreants, the only difference is the tan of your skin but in time you would even adapt their mixed lilt; even if you didn’t quite look it, you were one of them & the truth is, you were no better than the rest. it’s a damn miracle you make it out of woodrow in one piece: running off into the night when you’re old enough, leaving nothing but tire marks in the driveway & a number richard could contact you at in the future. now you’ve been running laps in the game for too long, and the only thing you’ve been left to wonder is if this was the dream you had so fervently chased as a child.
AESTHETIC
james dean chic meets streetwear final boss. breezy linen button-ups, undone by the first two buttons. perpetually bruised, walking into the room like god sent him. adorns at least five tattoos he has no recollection of getting in the first place. bottle blond with a knack for trouble. smelling like camel cigarettes & sandalwood.
HEACANONS
ever in motion, always leaning in a doorway or drumming his fingers along the edge of a table.
easy to call, hard to get in contact with. has a phone but will likely not answer lest prompted by his manager; harder to contact since richard's passing.
began prizefighting at eighteen, became a super wba titleholder in 2002.
did not pursue higher education following high school but currently runs a community-led organization in brooklyn to help the underserved youth in the area stay out of trouble.
hairtrigger temper which is highly exasterbated under stress/pressure. sooner to seclude those he's close to before allowing them to be involved in his mess. needs a therapist sooo bad.
technically, the last time dante was seen at woodrow house was seven years ago. however, he was last present on the property five years ago per the request of richard. the reasoning and his appearance at large is still broadly unknown to the rest of the wards.
secretly really enjoys tennis, catch this man at the yearly u.s. open & wimbledon with your favorite wag on his arm.
got into political organizing around the age of thirteen after rallying a small network of underserved youth (for better or worse) against the local government. was arrested shortly thereafter for inciting civil unrest.
really into running, has ran at least a mile a day since he was seventeen.
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay, so because of Eliza's sister thing, I'm going to write a list of people that I'd THINK would be "normal" and wouldn't be jumping on the sister fucker train; The seaside sisters, Theanna, Abigail, Kass, Sawyer, Miriel, Pauline... Nikki... Raffie... and Nora.
I know there is a good chance that I'm going to be very wrong, but I'm gonna leap.
The sisters don't instantly jump to sister fucking. Theanna would need very ideal circumstances to make it occur. I could actually see it will Abigail if her sister was the ideal lady, perhaps it starts with her being a stupid kid and promising to dedicate herself to her sister who is the fairest lady she knows and then later in she starts to consider more things. Kassien would be normal unless they're her soulmate and a lesser demon, then it's on. It wouldn't fully make sense for Sawyer. Miriel probably wouldn't unless they're her soulmate but even then the sister would have to initiate the actual fucking. Pauline is a no. Nikki would if her soulmate is her sister and a lesser demon plus she literally doesn't know who she's related to so in her angel village she's somewhat likely to be related to anyone anyways. Nora might like if her sibling was made immortal too and has been her only reason to keep going for year but sister reader would need to initiate it. Raffie probably wouldn't but I still have ideas for it anyways.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
wip wednesday
Double-tagged by my beloveds @walkinginland and @theawkwardterrier 💜 Thank you friends!! I do have bits and pieces for chapter 9 of Seaside in the works, but everything feels a little spoilery at this point for this next arc, so dropping a whole scene from my tbbfiy wip instead, which just might end up getting shared piecemeal in tumblr posts at this rate 😅
Claire woke slowly, her awareness returning in pieces. It was dark in the room, and completely still; no crying children running to their bed for shelter or someone banging on the door for a healer. That wasn’t what had woken her this time. There was warmth over her belly — a hand, she realized belatedly, with the thumb stroking softly in half-circles over the fabric of her nightgown. Jamie’s hand. Jamie’s voice, too — barely above a whisper, and the only sound in the room.
“—and two wee sisters who will love and dote on ye. Faith may order ye about but she’s a fierce wee protector of those she loves, and ye’ll be glad to have her looking out for ye. And Brianna will just want tae be yer friend and playfellow. She’s never had a younger sibling, ye ken, so it’ll be new for her.”
Claire didn’t want to move or even breathe, lest she disrupt the conversation Jamie was having with the baby, but she felt a lump rise in her throat listening to him talk so. Had he felt the same as he’d described for Brianna, when his mother was carrying his baby brother? The one he never got to meet…
Don’t follow that train of thought, Beauchamp.
“—And what can I say about yer mam that ye don’t already ken? If ye decide to stay, you’ll have the most wonderful mother this life can give ye. She loves ye so much already… as do I.”
Tears were spilling hot down her cheeks, and she couldn’t even say for sure that her hormones had anything to do with those. “Stay put, mo chridhe.” It was the same fatherly tone he used with Fergus and the girls when he expected absolute obedience, when it was a matter of their safety and wellbeing — stern and protective in equal measure. She felt Jamie press a kiss to her belly and beg in a tight whisper, “please.”
It was the begging that did her in. She couldn’t lie there unaffected any longer; she reached for him, carding fingers through his curls and clutching his head to her belly. She loved him — endlessly, for a million reasons — but in that moment she loved him most for how scared he’d always been of the risks to her and any child she carried, and that he’d still given her this next chance, fears and all, when she’d asked it of him. She loved him for his wide-open heart for a life that might never be, especially when they’d already been down the path of heartache and loss before. “Come here,” she murmured to him. He shifted up the bed until his head was level with hers. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, deeply.
They would be alright, she knew. No matter what, she would be alright as long as she had him with her, for the good days and the bad.
But she hoped to god she hadn’t seen the last of Jamie Fraser’s face when he held his child for the first time.
I’m not sure who is currently working on a wip they’d like to share, so no-pressure tagging @lord-jen-grey @lara-frasers and @frasers-of-my-heart and anyone else who might want to participate, consider yourself tagged!
#wip wednesday#i say this every time but making steady progress on this wip actually. like ch1 of 4 is almost done for real!!#tbbfiy
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
After the vicar’s children grew up and left for college, he began doing Bible lessons for Trevor, every morning while Trevor is being steamed up, he brings his Bible down and reads a few passages to Trevor.
Trevor doesn’t mind this, he enjoys having company and being loved.
I also headcanon that the reason why Trevor loves children is because they simply love him back and they remind him of the good times which includes fall fairs, apple picking, Christmas tree cutting, and the seaside.
Because both he and George have the same operator, George developed a sort of sibling rivalry with Trevor. He views Trevor as the goody goody two shoes train lover and wholeheartedly believes that Jem Cole likes Trevor over him.
But then again I don’t blame Jem Cole. George is basically like the hellion demon child while Trevor is the angel child.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I know you've seen this one before but I'm trying out a bit of writing and I wrote a snippet for this drawing and I want the fic and the art to be together. Criticism is welcome but please be gentle, this is my first posted fic.
Edit - I originally made the mistake of thinking Whitby was in Cornwall so that line has now been changed.
‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚₊‧
"Carry me?"
–• Fandom: Thunderbirds, Thunderbirds are go • Genre: Fluff • Characters: Gordon Tracy, OC (Seasquirt Tracy) • Pairings: None • Warnings: None •–
• • • • •
Gordon had booked the day off to give himself and his so called apprentice a break, they'd both been training hard all week and had definitely earned a little down time. They'd taken a trip to Whitby, an old seaside town located in England, it definitely wasn't his first choice mind you but Lady Penelope had highly recommended the location for a relaxing day out.
Gordon and Squirt had had a chilled morning browsing little village shops and stopping for a light breakfast and coffee in one of the cafés, maybe filling a 12 year old with caffeine wasn't the best idea but it was Squirt's treat and no one was going to tell him off for letting the kid have a little fun, not Scott, not Virgil not anyone. Gosh his brothers could be so overbearing sometimes.
Currently they we're waiting for the sun to reach a high enough point to make the sea warm enough to swim in, in the meantime they'd both decided that sight seeing would be a good time killer, that and hopefully all the wandering around would use up that coffee energy. First stop the 199 steps.
They'd just arrived at the bottom where cobblestone streets turned into paved stairs, Gordon gripped the black painted railings and started his assent, one, two, three, four steps up when suddenly:
"Carry me?"
Gordon halted and peered over his shoulder at the source of the request standing a couple of steps below. Good god he'd wished they hadn't decided to ask this now.
"Aren't you a little old for that, Squirt?" He replied half smirking, turning around to face them.
"Scott carries Alan and he's 16." Squirt protested, jokingly pouting a little.
Squirt was right, there wasn't technically an age limit on being carried in the Tracy family, heck in their line of work it was common to need a little help to get around after exhausting themselves with missions.
"Yeah well Alan's a wimp." He chuckled "All that space flight is making his knees weak." Obviously not a true statement but since when did taking jabs at your siblings have to involve facts?
Squirt rolled their eyes biting back a laugh "Gords, you know that's not what I mean!!" They hopped a couple of steps up to meet their bro.
"I want a piggyback ride, wait no - uhh - a squiddyback!!" They exclaimed reaching their arms up "Please?"
Gordon laughed "Squirt I love you bub but I am not carrying you-" he paused to mentally count the steps "another 195 steps up the hill, come on you can't be that tired already."
He went to climb another step when Squirt grabbed the arm of his T-shirt.
"Pleeease."
Suddenly Gordon realised what this was about, it wasn't about not wanting to climb the steps or being tired or lazy, Squirt just wanted their big brother. Piggybacking was an expression of affection between the Tracy siblings and it hadn't really occurred to him that Squirt hadn't experienced that kind of love before becoming a part of their family.
He thought for a minute, it was a long trek up the hill but he could make an exception just this once. He sighed, turned away from his little sib and knelt down.
"Hop on."
The kid beamed and wasted no time in clambering onto the aquanaut's back, wriggling around and getting comfy as Gordon stood up and steadied himself under their weight.
"All set?" He asked.
"Aye aye, captain!!" They replied giving a little salute.
"Next stop, step 199!!"
• • • • •
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderfam#thunderbirds fanart#thunderbirds fanfiction#thunderfluff#gordon tracy#sea-squirt tracy#thunderbirds oc#squiddo's ocs#squiddo's fanfic#kidthunder's art#sfw interaction only
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
admiration
✧･ *✧･��:* what would some of the ATWOW boys admire about you :) ✧･ ✧･ﾟ:
pairings: neteyam sully x gn! na'vi!reader, lo'ak sully x gn! na'vi!reader, ao'nung x gn! na'vi!reader
warnings: none
𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭 ࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤 𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭 ࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭 ࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤 𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤 𖹭 ♡ Lo'ak Sully ♡
Your patience. He's a loose cannon, you know it, he knows it. And he's sorry, okay? He has tried to be more careful, to think before he acts or speaks, to be more like his brother, but he can't. His fists punch before he can get them to stop, his feet move without a previous warning. He's like that, spontaneous. Still, he can't help the stinging pain that settles in his chest whenever he sees your worried expression as you realize he's come back injured from a raid. He knows you're scared, worried and sad, he knows it and he hates it. He hates to be the reason why you're upset. That's why he loves you. Because despite how worried, scared or upset you are, you've always been patient with him, you try to understand why he does what he does. You try, which is more than what a lot of people usually do, and he's beyond grateful for that.
♡ Neteyam Sully ♡
Everything. Dear Eywa, why are you making him choose? Neteyam is literally incapable of naming just one thing he admires about you. He's too whipped for you to do that. And honestly, how could he not? In his eyes, you're perfect. The most perfect living thing he's ever seen. There's not one single thing you do that doesn't have him kicking his feet and giggling way too loud. The way you talk, walk, hunt, fly, dance, everything sends him over the moon. However, if you really, reaaaally begged him to choose, he'd say how gentle you are. He's excepcionally good at noticing, and he notices how sweet and careful you are when you play with your siblings or Tuk, how you never raise your voice at him (even if he's driving you mad), almost as you feared he would break if you shouts, and how much time you spend taking care of Pandoran creatures. How gentle you were with your Great Mother's creation, fearing it could disappear any second. He's always known he wanted you to be his mate, and he can't wait to see how gentle you'll be when you're both playing with your kids one day.
♡Ao'nung♡
Your kindness. Like, he literally doesn't get it. You're too kind. He can't remember even one time you've been mean to anyone. He's always portrayed ypu as the kind of na'vi that always sees the good in everything and everyone, the positive side in every situation. You're always helping Tsireya gathering seaside plants and algae for their mother, helping her with Tsahìk training. And when you're not, you're fishing with Rotxo, chatting with Tonowari, looming with the other metkayina members, and you even are nice to the forest na'vi? Like??? They're weird, halfbreeds, slow swimmers and kind of ugly if you ask him. Still, you welcome them with a big smile on your face, hang out with them. You defended them when he started the fight with Lo'ak and Neteyam, you patched them up, and scolded him. Him! Even though you were mad at him, you make sure he wasn't hurt badly, you stay with him and cheer him up when he tells you how he hates them, because he knows you know he's not serious. He knows you know how scared he is of anything bad happening to his family if the sky people ever got to the reefs. He knows you know. And he loves you for it.
𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭 ࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤 𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭 ࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭 ࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚࿙𝆤 𝆤࿚࿙𝆤𝆤𝆤𝆤࿚ 𖹭
Hey!! So, this is my first post ever, and i hope its actually good :] keep in mind english is not my first language so i apologize in advantage for any grammatical errors. I'll be posting some more drafts soon, but feel free to request if you wish. That's all. Bye ♡
#atwow#atwow x reader#atwow x you#neteyam sully#neteyam x you#neteyam x reader#loak sully#loak x you#loak x reader#aonung#aonung x reader#aonung x you
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fern's adventures in the mists part 2
(a sequel to this thingo)
He felt the change in the air first. It felt lighter, more vacuous, as if it was only the suggestion of air grasping faintly at the real thing. But Mordremoth barely took note of it, as almost all his focus was directed at staying conscious. The gnawing absence where his power once sat grew more ravenous by the moment, and Mordremoth was reaching his limit. However, despite his crippling magic withdrawal, he had finally reached his destination; the mists of proto-reality encompassing Tyria. Leaning heavily against his staff, he weakly raised his head to take in his surroundings. The mists portal hummed behind him, a circle of ancient hewn stone enclosing a curtain of rippling energy through which the sounds of the ocean could be faintly heard. Wrapping around it in a protective embrace was a colossal fortress of grey stone, backed up against the jagged walls of a moss-blanketed cliff. The castle was abuzz with activity, mortals of all races engaged in training exercises, counting supplies or simply standing watch. The heavy guard presence around the portal was notable, but Mordremoth paid it little heed. This mortal foible was of little import to him, not right now.
He took a deep breath of air, bracing himself for the journey ahead, but he had barely made it a few steps when-
An explosion rocked the courtyard as yelling filled the air. With his dulled senses, it took Mordremoth almost a full second to focus in on the source, an asuran woman with a battle-scarred face clad in magi-tech armour wielding a buzzing metal staff, standing atop a swirling pink mesmeric portal. “Breach successful!” she yelled, “GO FOR THE GATE, NOW!”
The portal flared as 6 more warriors stepped through, rushing for the mists portal behind Mordremoth. The wardens of the mists gate moved to intercept, raising their shields in a defensive stance. The asura met Mordremoth’s gaze, and with cold indifference, she raised her staff, which began to glow as she rapidly recited a spell. It was aimed right at him, as she finished the final syllable, a blazing fireball leapt from the end of her weapon. He had no other choice, calling upon the very last dregs of his power, he unleashed his magic. And as the very last drop of power drained out of him, the void surged forth, and his mind slipped away. The very last thing he saw before falling unconscious was the asura’s look of surprise as a furious mass of vines pierced her sternum.
.
.
It was dark. And Mordremoth was alone. He could no longer see, feel, or even sense anything.
Ironic. His reach was once infinite.
But he didn’t see the humour in it. Instead, the fading embers of his mind reached back, to better times in aeons past. When he slept peacefully with his siblings under his mother’s coils, listening to the distant hum of the waves lapping at Mother’s seaside den.
It was dark then too, but back then it was… comforting, and warm. Now there was nothing.
He was nothing.
.
.
But, before he faded away fully, the barest hint of a familiar taste brushed against his tongue. Magic, blessed, glorious, transcendental magic! It tasted of new growths on a spring morning, and of the briar patch, triumphant in its overgrowth. It was barely a trickle compared to his former might, but it was enough. He guzzled it down, like a desperate traveller happening upon the pure waters of an oasis. The darkness receded, and his eyes shot open.
Coughing back to life, he awoke to a face full of fog. The back of his head was being held roughly by a sharp-clawed paw, holding him in place against a stream of fo- no, this was charged mists essence, he could feel the power returning to his limbs as he inhaled the vaporous matter. But just as he was regaining his bearings, Mordremoth was jerked back, pulled out of the stream by whoever had been holding him in place, and dumped roughly onto the ground. His eyes snapped around, taking in his new surroundings. Judging by the walls, he was still in the fortress, though clearly a different part of it.
He was slumped on the ground in front of a row of golden runic circles, inset into the stonework, that each surrounding a fissure in the fabric of reality from which the raw essence of the mists flowed forth. Mordremoth watched as the mist billowed up and then coalesced, condensing into a chunk of metal. From the look of the supplies piled up around the yard, they must have been pulling resources from the mist geysers for some time. Shaking off the last of the fatigue, Mordremoth climbed onto his feet, and turned around to see who had oh so generously dunked him in the mist geyser.
Behind Mordremoth two people, the first was an imposing, grizzled looking charr with two great metal-studded horns whose nicks and scratches suggested their owner was a veteran of many, many battles. He was standing fully upright with his arms crossed, gazing down at Mordremoth with an expectant look in his crimson eyes. The second was a human woman, elonian in origin, whose expression belayed a look leaning more towards incredulousness. She spoke first, turning towards the charr and saying.
“Commander War Razor, for the record, just because that worked does not mean you can just drag away my patients!”
She turned back to Mordremoth, giving him an apologetic smile.
“My apologies, I would have liked to have treated your malady in a more… dignified manner, but here we are. My name’s Radeyah, I’m the chief medical officer around here. Are you feeling better? Any symptoms remaining?”
She reached out in an attempt to shake Mordremoth’s hand, which he altogether ignored. He chose his next words carefully; he didn’t want her examining him and uncovering his true nature.
“I am… feeling fine now. I require no further aid.”
Radeyah frowned, though whether that was because of Mordremoth’s rudeness or because she didn’t fully believe him was unclear. Before the conversation could deteriorate any further, War Razor cut in.
“Anyway, you’re either very lucky or very unlucky to have walked in when you did. How the enemy breached our wards is a conversation I’ll have to have with my arcanists, but if you weren’t there, we might have lost our only link to Tyria.”
He paused for a moment, the look in his eyes reminded Mordremoth of the look pocket raptors would get when they spotted an injured pact soldier, as though he was eyeing some grand prize.
“Now, what I want to know is whether you picked a real bad time to get lost, or if you came here to join us in the mist war?”
This gave Mordremoth pause. His original plan had been to sneak away into the mists, but with these places of power… It might actually be to his advantage to play along with this ‘mist war’. And so, his response was blunt and simple.
“Of course I am. I came here to fight for Tyria.”
He looked up at the charr’s eyes defiantly, as if daring him to doubt his answer, but War Razor simply gave him a toothy grin, it was strangely unnerving, as if he was in on some joke that Mordremoth had yet to clock in on.
“Then welcome aboard, soldier. Now, what’s your name?”
Mordremoth’s eyes quickly darted around, he couldn’t use his true name, he had to think of an alias now! For a moment, his eyes settled on a small fern growing through a crack in the stone wall of the courtyard, then blurted out,
“Fern. My name is Fern.”
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
i INSTANTLY need to know more about cormorant da-ge
im sticking nie mingjue in a house by the river run by two lesbians with their younger siblings so he can make friends with some birds and be wildly overprotective of the kids to his hearts content
anyway here's what's going on to get NMJ sent to the seaside for his health like a jane austen character
JGS is making noises about how much more convenient his life would be if someone would Rid Him Of This Turbulent Sect Leader, Henry II style, and JGY has the idea to try out this cool new composition called the Song of Turmoil
Except he's never tried to kill someone with the Song of Turmoil before, and apparently those songs are powerful enough to kill people within three notes if played by a master! and this is a Modified Version that could conceivably do... Anything
So the first time he decides to try out the song. well. instead of a slow poison he's got a half-dead da-ge spitting blood on the floor 50% of the way into a qi deviation
PANIC. drag his sworn brother to the Koi Tower Basement to see if your half-baked stygian tiger amulet can do anything
the song is still in NMJ's head causing problems so he works out a plan with XY to try to just. erase the song and the memory of that afternoon. see if that does the trick
NMJ wakes up and says what the fuck. where am i. who are you
FUCK SHIT FUCK okay. we're going into crisis mode since we obviously can't send an amnesiac da-ge back to Qinghe when we were SUPPOSED to be doing medical care
Xue Yang go dump this guy in a river to get him as far away from here as possible while JGY does some DAMAGE control to make it look like NMJ left Lanling like expected and possibly disappeared on the way back home
1 terrible trip down the river later, local Yunping fisherman's cormorants find a body in the weeds. he fishes the biggest dude he's ever seen out of the water and OOPS this guy is still alive!! good thing his sister's "very good friend who shares a room with her and is raising a child with her" is the town's doctor!
Cue frantic life saving scene where eventually This Guy wakes up and tells them he doesn't remember anything about himself or his life. oh no he must have fallen off a boat somewhere and hit his head really hard :(
Doesn't even know his own name. He's pretty sure he can remember being called Da-ge by someone though
They'd feel bad if they just set this guy wandering off with literally Nothing to go on in the world. plus he can reach the top shelves in their house without having to get a chair
He can stay with them if he helps with the farm animals, learns how to fish, and helps out the family business. And even though his meridians are all fucked up he's got a little bit of cultivation ability so he can help their daughter build up her golden core. He's pretty good at this training thing!
They've got nine cormorants named after the Nine Sons of the Dragon. Baxia the cormorant is fucking obsessed with Da-ge for whatever reason
Domestic life continues with Da-ge out on a boat during the day and helping the cultivators out with developing their golden cores, training they normally wouldn't really have access to
One day the doctor says her cousin is coming to visit! she hasn't seen her since the end of the Sunshot campaign and she's excited to reconnect with her. oh look here she comes!! hi luo quinyang it's been forever since we've seen you!!
POV: you are Mianmian, you left the cultivation world a year ago and you're traveling around as a rogue cultivator now. You visit your cousin. Fucking Chifeng-Zun is in her front yard. He's been presumed dead for the last year. what the actual fuck do you do
meanwhile JGY is desperately trying to convince NHS back in Qinghe to accept that his brother is dead for his own sake <3 for his own closure so he can lead the sect in his brother's memory <3 please god stop looking into this <3
NHS: "haha yeah you're probably right sang-ge. anyway im going to go look into all of our historical records to see how i can get access to Dead People's Spirits to Find Their Bodies and maybe this will lead to me bringing my dead necromancer friend back from the dead. xoxo"
anyway eventually they reunite and it's a whole debacle. this is actually a v long way for me to make NMJ and mianmian accidental friends because I think it would be funny
#this au is parallel to the au in my head where the Mamas Nie disappeared because. they time traveled by accident. dont worry about it#things that can heal qi deviations: hanging out with cooler lesbians and being friends with birds#making more lesbian friends certainly fixed a lot of MY spiritual cognition. ANYWAY#nie mingjue#jin guangyao#nie huaisang#mianmian#mdzs#cormorant fishing au
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi Everyone!! Here are some more next gens for my Blossom Love AU. Smokey Ashes, Seaside Flame, Sprinkle Spark and Ocean Blaze's parents are Heat Miser and Sapphire Shores. Smokey Ashes and Seaside Flame are twins btw. Smokey Ashes is very kind and super generous and tries his hardest to understand and control his magic. He's also training to take over his father's job in bringing heat all around the world and to work alongside his cousin, Snow Miser and Ms.Peachbottom's daughter, Peppermint Blossom. Smokey Ashes got his cutie mark when he started to better understand his fire powers and was able to start making little fireballs that, thankfully, didn't cause too much damage to Heat Miser and Sapphire Shores's home. Seaside Flame is super spontaneous and loves to party a lot. She's also a famous celebrity as she's most well known for making beautiful sea-related jewelry out of seashells hence why she got her cutie mark and is also super well known for her workout video business that she runs on social media. Sprinkle Spark is a very curious filly and loves to learn about just about anything really. She also loves to read and trains to get better at her magic. Ocean Blaze is super silly and loves being the center of attention. He's also super bubbly and loves being near his siblings. Credit goes to Selenaede for the bases I used and to Warner Bros. Animation, Cuppa Coffee Studios, Lauren Faust and Hasbro for creating A Miser Brother's Christmas and My Little Pony:Friendship Is Magic as well as creating the characters Heat Miser, Snow Miser, Sapphire Shores and Ms.Peachbottom as well. I only take credit for my next gens, art, ships, stories and the Blossom Love AU. I hope you guys like them!!!
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers
Tagged by: @windwardstar. Thankie, Osie. (一一)7 Questions and answers put under the cut.
--------------------------
How many works do you have on ao3?
Um. (goes to check) 14.
2. What's your total ao3 word count?
1,084,241.
...That's bigger than I thought.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Currently, Fate/Grand Order and related. Trying to get back into Naruto for specific reasons. Still slow at that one.
4. Top five fics by kudos
1. Passing Days 219
2. Civilian Pianist 200 (which is amazing to me considering how it's incomplete and not fully matching the FFN version yet)
3. The Sea and Stars 88
4. Seaside Sibling Train 83
5. The Girl Singing Alone 68
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes. I do. I do my best to get responses out within a day or two, but sometimes, work, people, and a mix of both make it so replies are delayed. Also being used to some comments being a mix of "why didn't you write this" and "read this to like this one character better." Damn it Fate fandom.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Uh. (stares at AO3 works) Some short stories in Small Sparkles that involved Tomoko nearly dying or actually dying? That's really it. Angst is why Lang told me to cut down the old Danganronpa crossover way back and I'm glad I did.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Maybe all of them? Because I do want to keep giving happy endings. Least I can do.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
(stares at all the previous anons and guest reviewers who tried to get me to like Wodime and LB7 onwards for Fate/Grand Order) Yep. That's why my AO3 works are all locked to registered users only. Keeps the bullcrap out.
9. Do you write smut?
No. I tried once, didn't get into the actual act, only implied it, and immediately mentally combusted afterwards. Friends were very nice in encouraging me and being supportive.
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
No. Thank goodness for that.
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No. It'd be nice if someone did. I remember back when I was exclusively writing Civilian Pianist in my college days that someone asked about translating it into Spanish. Never saw more than that. Don't remember if they even got around to it.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
If you count me asking Os/@windwardstar and @langwrites for help in writing Kei and co in The Sea and Stars, yes! Also, there was Silent Feathers. Kinda went places.
13. All time favorite ship?
(squints) ...Do I gotta choose? Because I don't have an all time favorite.
14. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
...Civilian Pianist. I really want to go back to it, I do, but a combination of Boruto sucking ass whenever I try to look up reference, family deaths, and my own changing writing style means I'm floundering a bit. Still want to go back. I mean that much.
15. What are your writing strengths?
Per @partialdignity and @lovingempress, last I checked - fluff, exploring emotion, and hurt/comfort. Which I'm more than happy with considering I wanted to write for all three.
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
Fight scenes (thanks for passing your weakness down, Lang), angst, and occasional bouts of witty banter. Still working on all three. Some of my best Fate chapters I wrote from the memories of toxic work environments, racist things people have called me on public transit, as well as uncomfortable real life things, and I think it says something when my partner has to call me and distract me with talk about Kamen Rider to get me out of the dark corner because I can dive deep.
17. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I've been trying to use that sort of thing more in Passing Days since the little bits of Vietnamese I sprinkle in make Master Vy - and by extension the Chaldea I write for - so much bigger in how the Servants try to interact with a Vietnamese Master. It helps me look up and practice saying the accents I've always struggled learning with my parents when I was little too. Still a work in progress, though, but it's fun!
18. First fandom you wrote in?
Yugioh GX. On a word document that's long been deleted because old family laptop, middle school me writing, and being very embarrassed by it.
19. Favorite fic you've written?
Honestly, it's coming up to Passing Days even though I've poured a lot into every story I've written. Because Fate/Grand Order has so many characters, shaped up by the story and my own experiences playing through the story - writing out things that could've happened or interactions I wish could've played out help me challenge myself. Push me outside my "fluff/comfort" bubble.
Because not everyone takes nicely to the tiny stubborn Vietnamese girl who wants to fight for her family. It's a good personal challenge.
20. Tagging: @partialdignity (who was mentioned earlier), @abalisk, @teddog, @tackypies. And anyone else who would like to. This is for fun and totally optional. :)
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
I recently discovered your page and my first reaction was: OH MY GOD, this woman is an amazing writer!!
No seriously, your Yandere one shots / scenarios are amazing, I would like to read more!
Since I first saw Karate Kid Part III I have this very dark but fascinating scenario in mind: The reader (friend of Daniel Larusso and Mr. Miyagi) is kidnapped by Terry as he is madly obsessed with her (but she does not return his love). When he forcibly takes her to the majestic Ennis House, he wants to get her pregnant to prevent her from escaping.
Can you make the scene please? (with nsfw if you want) Maybe it's a bit too extreme scenario, but Yandere Terry Silver in the 80's is something amazing.
---
His revenge in Johnny's name never involved this.
But, much like a greedy child in a candy store on a sugar-high, Terry wanted it all.
John, lounging on some wicker sunbed in Tahiti, soaking up the seaside heat, bronze like a god and oiled up and admiring all the grass hula skirts that were attending to him had never called him up to say Fuck your children into somebody, Terry and make that part of your revenge. Go all the way, Terry. For me. --- no. In fact, trusty Johnny was very old-fashioned and deeply conventional with his vendettas. Blood to blood. Fists to fists. A healthy addition of dirty moves and strategizing when required, but never to this extent. Of course, Terry admired the rawness of such sentiments, the type John had and lived by, but sometimes a delicate touch was required to make pain truly stick and that pain was laying on his King Size bed, in his bedroom, in his mansion, on Glendower, overlooking all of LA. Was it insanely petty and morally questionable. To kidnap someone that little pipsqueak and that old coot held dear? A treasured, kind neighbour? A friend, he even dared say? To be the cad and the seducer, whisking them away whether they liked to or not and simply have them --- ravaging them --- tying them inadvertently to himself so he can later pull them out of the drawer, flaunt them like his own special prize and say Look what I did? I did that to them. They're mine forever, Danny-boy and everything you ever felt close to is to be taken from you for crossing John Kreese and Cobra Kai. Nothing and nobody in this world is safe from me. Not from the closest contact to the most distantly familiar acquaintance.
Then there was the fact that he very much liked them.
Not a feeling yet returned as much as he wanted, but it would be.
Naturally, everyone always fell to his charms, sooner or later, sometimes against all better judgement and it would be no different now. He had a scheduled timetable on when he was taking them raw, holding them hostage on estate grounds, surrounded by walls and cameras and security. Early morning seven o'clock sharp. One time before noon. One time afternoon. In the evening. And going free reign at night. Terry trained and Terry fucked. When he called up John to tell him all about it he was met with an expected: -"You did what, Terry!?"- His voice was laced with disbelief and amusement on an international overseas call and Terry throws his head back in his tub filled with foam in unadulterated joy at the sound of it once all the details and his war plan were mutually laid out bare before his Captain. He was on the verge of stroking himself beneath the bubbles in excitement. Yes, he was going to knock the fuck up one Larusso boy's neighbour living in the same apartment block. Much older than the punk, but upon closer inspection, someone the little Italian twerp admired like an eager kid admires a big sibling or an aspirational adult. -"You're crazy."- John adds. -"And you love it!"- Terry practically cackles, the phone at his cheek, his little project safely locked upstairs, exhausted for last night's trysts. He'd go one step further, he decided. He'll wine, dine and romance them until it is abundantly clear they're with him of their own accord. I'm sorry, Daniel. Terry imagines them saying, apologetically. Pitifully. It just happened. You don't choose who you love.
Ah, it was like something straight out of The Dynasty and he loved it.
-"And what happens after?"- John inquires lazily, with a trace of strictness.
-"Huh? After what?"-
-"After we're done playing? C'mon, not gonna toss your own kid and the woman out in the streets once you've proved a point, Terry? Not how I taught you to do things."- Oddly honorable John. He loved the man to bits and pieces.
When their revenge is concluded and the old man and the kid are cut down to size? The streets? Tossing someone out? Someone his? No, no. Terry remembers how his little beloved mewled under him last night, fearful yet wanton, guilt and desire intermingling, they wanted it even though their head pleaded them not to, so beautiful, vulnerable and sweet, frightened and needy in a great castle on a hill, just like in the fairytales. Why should a dragon relinquish his treasure? John had nothing to fear. Terry was self-aware about being a great many things, but someone who forsakes something belonging to him he most certainly wasn't. He laughs in response, jubilantly. -"Well, I suppose I'll be a father, Johnny! What belongs to me, belongs to me."- The cackle echoes from his jacuzzi out into the steam filled hallway. -"You'll have your dojo locations, your rightful trophy, your champion, your victory at the All Valley, your name cleared and I'll have, well ---"- In listing off all their goals one by one, Terry feels the blood rush into his cheeks, his chest and lower still, into his cock. He couldn't even say it. I'll have a spouse and I'll have a kid and It'll be oh so sweet and I would've usurped and conquered them in the name of retaliation, so instead, he just trails off cheekily with a giggle.-"You know!"- Terry snorts suggestively, finding he was hit with an uncharacteristic amount of excitement at the idea of procuring himself someone who was his and who in turn would birth someone even more his outside of avenging his Captain. Enterprise, it was called. Enterprise and expansion. -"I know, I know. You're a real piece of work, I swear."- John shoots back, knowingly. They laugh together in mirth, over the phone.
-"Betcha!"-
Terry pounces on the statement with an interjection of his own.
#people are still discovering me after all this time!#i'm so flattered#thank you infinitely#and here we have it#terry being villainously giddy about being a papa#and john encouraging him to be morally despicable YET responsible#meanwhile daniel and mr. miyagi are like 😨😨😨#kk3#cobra kai#tw; dubious conset#tw; kidnapping#tw; hostage situations#implied cobra husbands#terry silver x reader#terry silver x beloved#and a lot of murky ethics
74 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can i have platonic headcannons for the diasomnia students (seprate) learning that the reader (who is from another world so she'd be Yuu basically) is Lilia's daughter (who even Lilia didn't know existed) considering at first the them AND the reader just thought she was a normal human. Even though the reader did have the pointed ears but the reader was just told her whole life that it was just some kind of genetic deformity of some kind and nothing else.
ooh, i've seen this ask on @twstwonderlandstuff 's blog recently. and i'm more than happy to take on this req ✨
apologies for answering so late.
mc's parent here is female, if you don't mind.
WHAT?
No way. There is no way Master Lilia could've had a child. Despite travelling from country to country, he would never have been able to encounter your birth mother! You were from another world for gods' sake!
And he still can't get over that fact. You? From another world? Do you qualify on being an alien? Like in those science fiction documentaries...?
Enough of that!
There's no denying that you indeed possessed some fae characteristics, albeit watered down by the other blood that runs through your veins.
Chimera...
Truth be told, he was once curious of finding other people like him— born with the blood of Fae and another. It was a long time ago, to the point that he had almost forgotten about it completely.
He didn't expect to find someone so soon. And in the form of you, the infamous Prefect, too?
Since you've missed out on many of Master Lilia's heroic travels, Sebek would be more than happy to share them all with you!
Let us begin with his tales of the Scalding Sands. And proceed to Pyroxene, then to Jubilee Port!
Though not related by blood, I wish for us to have the same camaraderie of true siblings.
Silver couldn't describe the feeling that welled inside him. Delight mixed with anxiousness and... Jealousy...?
He didn't mind most of those feelings. He was more focused on sharpening your skills— swordfighting, survival and if possible, magic. Basically, everything that Lilia had taught him since he was but a child.
After all, Lilia was a high ranking official and a personal friend of the royal family, surely someone would be after your head. If news broke out, that is.
To the best of his ability, he will make sure you are protected and secured. He considers you as his sibling, so he will do what he can to become a reliable older brother.
An older brother...? Don't mind me, it merely feels strange on the tongue.
A product of Lilia's many exploits? What tales do you tell, I wonder?
Pray tell, child of Lilia, what stories do you have of your mother? Your hometown? What songs and lullabies have your folk sang to you as a babe?
What was your house? Was it of brick or stone? Or perhaps wood and glass? What of your hometown? Was it a lazy town by the seaside? A bustling jungle of concrete and lights?
Or perhaps it was a plan and simple countryside? He had so much to learn, so much to see and to hear.
Pardon me for the sudden questions. I could not resist but to wonder of your origins. Much more that you're related to Lilia by blood.
Give and take. For each story you tell him, he graces you with knowledge privy to the inhabitants of Briar Valley. If he feels up to it, he might tell you a meaty secret or a tidbit of knowledge from hidden tomes.
Malleus saw potential in you, and it wouldn't hurt to have Sebek train you with your magical abilities. He made a note to make sure of you had magic in you.
And he could have Silver or maybe Lilia himself to train you in your physical abilities as well.
I have a child? Amusing!
No child of his would be as helpless as a ragdoll, of course! A classic Vanrouge-style training ought to be useful to you.
A week of survival in the mountains, or maybe hand-to-hand combat with Sebek. Ooh! Or maybe a rather extreme training camp led by a good old friend of his!
How foolish he was to not consider that his gleeful galavanting would bear fruit. Aside from rigorous training, he has a lot more plans in store to make up for lost years.
He's read countless books about foreign cuisine, and it would elate him so if his dearest daughter would get to taste them all.
From chocolate-coated shellfish, to strawberry flavored pasta! Everything that has been cooked under the sun he'll gladly whip up in the kitchen.
Oh! And before he could forget, he plans on throwing many birthday parties for you. So buckle up and prepare for an eventful afternoon!
My daughter, it still feels rather strange to call you that, in this time we spend, I pray that we would be able to do some catching up with each other.
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#fem!reader#female reader#twst fanfiction#twst headcanons#twst imagines#twst scenarios#sebek zigvolt#malleus draconia#twst silver#lilia vanrouge#answered ask#platonic
115 notes
·
View notes
Note
🍂 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞: send me a little bit about yourself and I'll give you a song that reminds me of you and tell you which character you remind me of most and why!
i'm baran! i'm from and i live in seaside, florida as a student! i love surfing and watching movies and i have a 13 year old brother. i have a terrible relationship with my parents, but oh well, i try to avoid them as much as i can. my favorite movies are jurassic park, the nice guys, bullet train, the hangover trilogy. my favorite shows are: the office, obx, euphoria, friends, the morning show, stranger things. my favorite artists are: brent faiyaz, kanye west (oops🫣), ashnikko, billie eilish anddd i guess that's it!!!
omg hi b!!
i have no particular reason as to why i think this but a song that really gives me your vibe is "freakin out on the interstate" by briston maroney! (one of my fave songs!!)
and NO bc your taste in film and music is sooo giving rafe to me like,, immaculate taste babe (also that older sibling energy is unmatched and also you're slayinggg)
thank you sm for sending stuff in for my celly!! I've missed you omg how are you doing ml???
9 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
