#barrow siblings

[lilyharvord]

Do you have any Barrow siblings headcannons ? i’d love to hear them

OOOH alright, I'm taking a break from writing OtHatH for a moment on my double shift to clear out my ask box a bit. So here we go! Headcanons!!!

Bree as the eldest, takes it upon himself to be the defacto leader. He knows he's not the brightest, but he believes that if he is the strongest, then there is no match.

Tramy is the second son. He figured that because of that, and because there are well... three more after him, that he has an easier time hiding. Bree is strong enough for both of them, beating kids into the muck early. It allows him to develop a softer, gentler heart. Next to Gisa... he is their mother's favorite.

Shade is, well, Shade. He is teasing, and wit and quick sharp thoughts. He's not the strongest of his brothers, but he is the quickest. He thinks it's quite fitting that his ability is to jump between spaces faster than a human can blink. He's always been quick, it only make sense.

Mare, we all know about right now.

Gisa, the youngest, the brightest star. It's a heavy burden, being the one to carry the world on your shoulders. It's its even heavier to when you are the baby of the family.

When Mare was born, Shade was the first to hold her. He demanded it actually and pushed his older brothers out of the way and stepped up to his mother's bed side to hold out his arms expectantly. She was lighter than air it seemed. But when she opened her mouth and wailed, she had lungs like an ox. He had smiled down at her, and said quietly, "You have to make it."

When Gisa was born, all the children huddled around the bed with narrowed eyes and concerned pouts on their mouths. She was smaller than Mare when she was born, a little sickly looking too. "She won't last the winter" Bree whispered in Tramy's ear as their mother gazes adoringly down on the new baby. "She won't last the summer." Tramy whispered quietly in response. "She'll make it." Shade whispered between both of them.

She made it of course.

From the moment he was strong enough, the Bree would trail the officers in the Stilts, learning how they walked, how they talked, how they carried themselves. He'd come home and teach his siblings, show them what it was like to be a solider. They all knew at a young age that the Choke was their destiny.

Mare starts stealing young, she practices on local boys and girls, and Bree and Tramy beat up anyone that tries to come after her. Shade simply frowns but never says a thing, unlike their parents, unlike Gisa who perfected their mothers concerned scowl at a young age.

They play along the river bank together, swim in the river, daring each other to see who can swim out the farthest, who can brave the current the longest. Because she is small, Mare is determined to win every bet and she certainly tries, almost dies a couple times but she tries. The siblings have to explain that she almost died a few times to their mother, but there is normally just a long sigh and a shake of the head.

The night before Bree leaves for the front, he shakes Tramy awake and in the dead of night, drags him out of bed to the edge of the river and makes him promise on the river to protect the other siblings until he comes back. His voice shakes and tears gather in his eyes for the first time in a long time. Tramy promises and they sit by the river until dawn, the two eldest sharing a final moment.

The night before tramy is supposed to leave, he drags shade out of bed, and Mare follows them, determined to be apart of whatever it is. He makes them both swear to protect each other and Gisa, forces them to swear like he did on the river. Mare rolls her eyes and agrees with a snort. Shade agrees with his whole heart. They sit on the bank with him after that, and respectfully ignore the tears that stream down his face.

When Shade leaves, Mare almost takes the two soldiers out that come for him. It takes Kilorn holding her back, and Gisa gripping her arm to keep her from killing them. She screams for him, breaking free from their hold as the transport starts up and sprays mud. She chases the transport until it hits the main road and even then she tries to chase the dust cloud it leaves behind until her lungs burn and her cries become sobs as she drops to her hands and knees in the dirt.

Gisa dreams of painting, of never having to work for a sneering condescending seamstress. She dreams of her own shop, and not being the one that has to keep her parents warm and fed for the rest of their lives. She always wakes up with a smile that falls from her face quickly when she realizes that it's a stupid dream anyway.

When Mare is taken by the officers and Walsh, Gisa stands on the porch until that transport is gone. Then she goes inside and puts a blanket of her mother's shaking shoulders while she sobs. She puts a pot of broth on the stove and tries to figure out the best way to proceed. Without her hand there is no money. Without Mare there is no money. Kilorn comes by later, determined to learn where Mare is, and Gisa tells him the truth. That she was summoned to the palace. HE tries to go after her, as if he could storm a palace of silvers by himself and make it out alive. Gisa scoffs and drags him back, but he leaves in the dead of night, talking about Will Whistle.

Less than a week later, Bree and Tramy are standing on the porch, letters of leave in their hands, their bewilderment at the situation still fresh in their eyes. Their mother sobs, calls it a miracle, Gisa can practically hear the gears turning in her fathers head as he assess the papers, and tries to read between lines that dont exist. Shade does not come back with them, and the family mourns them. The siblings mourn Shade and Mare. Bree and Tramy have never felt survivors guilt like this. They both promised to protect their younger siblings at all costs, but while they were gone the unthinkable happened.

Anyway, that's all I have for now XD

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #barrow siblings #my writing #anway #its not much #but it's 12am honest work

[drewtanakagf]

actually obsessed with how mare and kilorn weren't really supposed to be together. Like they care for each other but instead of mare having to choose between her childhood friend and the prince she has to choose between the the more insane and teeth-gnashing option of two prince brothers. idk I liked that little subversion from the ya dystopian genre.

#like you get the sense that they mean a lot to each other but aren't quite lovers nor are they siblings. #now I want the mare kilorn qpr fic.... #the devil works hard but my mind also works hard... not harder but it does work!!! #mare barrow #kilorn warren

[imjulia-andilikecats]

You know, as much as I love Mare Molly Barrow a.k.a "My Feral Little Lightining Rod" with EVERY FIBER of my being, and will take a bullet for her at any chance I get (which would be often).

If I ever met her in real life, I might manifest a😙 whistle between my mouth and yell, "ATTENZIONE PICKPOCKET!!!". 📣🗣

#red queen #mare barrow #glass sword #war storm #king's cage #old meme #maven calore #random #cal calore #tiberias vii calore #guess who has been watching too much insta again #mare i love her I kove my wallet to be taken away from me #this probably applies to most of the RQ characters excluding kilorn #im a sucker for friendly looking people...amma add gisa in the list and the other barrow siblings

[vi-vis-posts]

Mare: Can you do me favor?

Shade: You're my sister Mare. I would literally cover up a murder you committed, plant falsified evidence at the crime scene, and take the blame for you.

Mare: Cool. Can you do the dishes?

Shade: No, sorry.

#mare barrow #red queen #cal calore #marecal #shade barrow #siblings #sibling love

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Fic Snippet: Twins Shopping

Okay, so, back when my knee first went zombie victim on me and I asked if there was anything I could do to make people happy, @elijahgeorgavic asked for a Thomas/Mary Twin snippet. Since my brain has threatened divorce if I so much as look at the Thomas-As-Heir fic at the moment*, I thought about scenes that didn't exist that could exist that didn't have room to exist and came up with the two of them shopping in Ripon. It was originally going to be a bit longer, but I decided I didn't like it and stopped here.

So here, @elijahgeorgavic, have some sibling banter.

Thomas slowed to a stop, his eyes on the reflection in the store window. There was something about the image in the glass that made it seem otherworldly, like he really had fallen down a rabbit hole. The clothes weren’t his, even though he’d gone to London and been fitted for them the previous week. The hat wasn’t anything he’d wear, even though he had purchased it on the same trip. Little details in the cut and quality kept catching his eye, drawing his attention to the stranger that was him.

He might have stood there for hours if Mary’s voice hadn’t cut through his thoughts, amused but with a sharp edge of exasperation. “I know footmen are supposed to be handsome, but if you don’t rein in your vanity, we’re never going to get any shopping done.”

Tearing his eyes away from the window, he gave her a rueful smile. “Sorry. I’m not actually admiring my reflection, I’m more being unnerved by it.” She arched here eyebrows and he elaborated. “It’s the clothes. They keep catching me off guard in the reflection.”

Tilting her head to the side, she looked him over. “I suppose I’m so used to changing fashion, I don’t think much of it if my dress is a different cut than I’m used to. The look well on you, at least.” Her lips quirked at the corners. “It’s obvious you spared no expense.”

“Well, can’t very well uphold the honour of the family if I’m not dressed appropriately, can I?” he quipped back, his mood lightning a bit. It was still odd to be bantering with her, of all people, but if he ignored the little voice in his head telling him that Carson would have his hide, it was a familiar enough interaction that it came naturally. “I have to look my best.”

“Your best?” The claim earned him a very arch look. “I don’t know about that. People might think us odd if you did your shopping in white tie.”

“Is that your way of saying I looked better in my livery?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but something must have slipped into his voice, something unintended, because she gave him a startled look that held no hint of laughter. For a moment she looked almost apologetic and he was going to explain that he’d not been serious when she said, very slowly and deliberately, “No. It’s more my way of saying you wear black well.”

“Oh, well.” Uncertain quite what to say to that, he settled on, “That’s one of the many things we have in common, then.”

With a smile that put them back on easy terms, she asked, “So, was there anything in particular you wanted to pick up while we were in town?”

*I keep telling it that if it will just finish the revisions we'll be done and it won't have to think about it ever again, but it won't listen...probably because it knows I'll just make it think about part two at that point. >.>

#downton abbey #thomas barrow #mary crawley #fanfiction #fiction snippet #long lost twins #sibling shopping #gift fic

[whatevssatan]

Guy or Richard discussion is out, tired, been there, who cares. Lets bring back discussions on Thomas with the his family e.g. anyone living in Downton with him for the past 20 years or whatever.

#thomas barrow #enough with the shipping #guy dexter #barris #richard ellis #his family #the servants #downton abbey #downton film #i need more of thomas having everyday interactions with these guys #the show robbed us of some very obvious friendly interactions #cus he was mean all the time #pretty much just the early seasons if that can even be counted as mean to most #could totally just be counted as sibling rivalry #with only Mrs Hughes ie his mother being on his side #Carson very much not on his side #the only person actively hoping his mum and dad dont marry #i forgot my point #but #please #thank you #really appreciate it

[writingoddess1125]

hiya!

Could you do Prince Nuada from Hellboy 2 and reader?

This one has taken me a while- Also thank you for reigniting the LOVE I had for Prince Nuada! Ugh! So sexy!!

I do hope this is to your liking since it did take some warping.

1. I gotta keep Nuada and Nuala alive so the ending didn't happen

2. Introduce elements from the comics aka Hellboy had adopted siblings.

OKAY ENJOY! I TRIED HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Half Breed

Prince Nuada x FemReader

Support me on Ko-Fi I'm poor!

After the fortunately failed suicide attempt from Nuala which had horribly injured both twins- Nuafa had been captured and the two rushed back to the Bureau for emergency treatment, Which fortunately allowed the Elves to survive the whole ordeal.

Nuada had been placed in custody of B.P.R.D first as a high level prisoner for many months after his attempt to wipe out humanity.

After being in solitary confinement for far too long a deal was struck with him to work for the organization due to his knowlege of the world and to get out of solitary help all that had been damaged.

He had agreed- begrudgingly and because Nuala insisted.. it had been nearly a year of this all- When something interesting took place.

Nuala and Abe walked down the corridors together, talking about recent books they had shared before Abe paused.

"Oh?-" He looked around calmly before seeing the warning lights come down shining blue instead of the normal red for emergencies.

"Is there an emergancy?" Nuala questioned, a bit nervous of what it could mean, But Abe gently touched her shoulder with his gloved hand.

"No no- Just a old friend. Everytime she visits her and Red play a.. Game of sorts like tag" Abe explained, Nuala smiling at hearing this. Nuada who had just returned from a mission turned the corner seeing his sister and the fish man, frowning but looking to the lights.

"Whats this?" He asked shortly, Abe repeating his answer from before.

"Warning lights for a Game?" He questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well they are only allowed to have this game once a year and for 5 minutes- mainly due to the property damage that always happens" Abe said truthfully as the elven twins looked surprised by this. A childish game causing property damage?

As if right on cue there was a loud crash the trio turning to see Hellboy running full force in their direction like a train.

"MOVE MOVE!" He yelled loudly, as he ran past them. This was the fastest any of them had seen him run even in a life or death situation, right as he was about to turn the corner a black boot came barrowing down on the side of his cheek, knocking him to the ground hard before the smaller figure ran down the hall Red had just gone through.

"You're it!" She yelled and the trio watched- There running past was a women. Dressed in all black leather tactical gear with her silver hair in a long braid, the ends a sunset gold- (Y/S/C) skin with unique etchings found in only elvish culture paired with amber eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure see what she was-

"Timer Abe!" She yelled, Abe looking to the small watch he carried.

"4 minutes and 26 seconds left- Also happy youve returned safely" He called out to (Y/N) who dashed down the hallway.

Nuada eyes widened as he couldnt help but follower her with his gaze, something about her drew him in. The trio sticking to the walls as they tried to follow the action- it was like a massive battle taking black between a giant and a tiny titan. While Red was slamming into walls cracking cement with his weight and arm- (Y/N) was doing flips and hung to the light fixtures above to keep an advantage.

"Happy to see you too!!!"

He could only describe himself as being mesmerized by her.. Every turn, giggle and jump just seemed to bewitch him and it terrified him.. It wasn't till a loud alarm snapped him his gaze making him jump a bit in surprise- the game was over it seemed and Hellboy returned with his sister, the demon clearly glum from losing.

Nuala eyes widened as she watched (Y/N) jump around Hellboy with a happy smile at winning the game. Figuring what she was but disbelieving of course even after this entire endeavor. A leath-fola. A Half-Blood Actually existed in this world? The embodiment of a union between a human and one of his own kind-

"I win Red! So that's 28 for me and 25 for you. Best luck next you!" She said cheerfully as Hellboy grumbled and pushed her head away with his small hand.

"Yada Yada short stack-"

She noticed the looks of the two meeting their gazes and Nuada immediately felt his heart beat pick up- Confused by the sensation he glanced to Nuala assuming it must be her however she seemed calm and relaxed.

"New Agents?" She questioned looking at the twins, Abe nodding with a 'smile'

"Prince Nuada of the Bethmora clan.. This here is my sister Princess Nuala" He introduced both formally, watching how her smile seemed to radiate as he spoke. It made him feel like he had had stepped into the sun for the first time in years..

"It's lovely to meet you both! It's so lovely to have new faces here in the facility" She said cheerfully, reaching out in a friendly matter and patting both twins on the shoulders.

It felt like Nuada had been shocked by the most pleasant bit of electricity that left him flustered and confused. His sister finally glancing at him as she felt his emotions and gaze a smile, a twinkle of what could only be described as mischief in her golden gaze.

"Yes.. new faces... now if you'll excuse me" Nuada said quickly before dismissing himself- trying to control the panic that was eating him on the inside and the warmth that bloomed in his body. He practically ran back to the space he was forced to call a room and lock himself inside. Nuada stood in his room pacing back and forth. His mind racing and heart uneasy- unknowingly for hours as he tried to calm himself from the sudden feelings that seemed to slam into him.

A knock on the door bringing him from his thoughts as he quickly opened the door, surprised to see his sister standing there in a evening gown.

"Sister, what are you doing up? You should be resting.." He said softly, allowing Nuala into the room.

"I can not rest with you so worked up brother" Nuala said softly. The prince sighing as he realized he had kept her up and took a seat on the corner of the bed, Nuala sitting next to him as well.

"Well- It sounds like she is your fated partner" She pointed out and Nuada immediately felt anger in his blood.

"You're thinking about the leath-fola (Y/N)? Right?" Nuala said softly as she rubbed her brothers shoulder to comfort him. He frowned at being so obvious and also for the form of comfort.

"Yes- She... makes me uneasy" He says, lying a bit to avoid the words he wanted to use. Nuala smiling at this.

"Do not speak such foolish things-" He hissed, Nuala flinching at his harsh words.

"I am not fated to a mortal of all beings" He started but Nuala held up a hand.

"She is not a mortal however brother.. You saw" Nuada was ready to argue but couldnt- his face twisting up.. The damn half-breed was not his fated partner NOR was it going to be the siblings of the demon.

He would prove it...

For the first few weeks that (Y/N) was there, Nuada had been rude and snide. Hissing insults about her mixed blood, shoving past her or even straight up ignoring her. He expected she would take the abuse since she didnt say anything about it but he had been wrong- so terribly wrong.

It took only one time calling her "Dirty" in terms of her blood to get the hardest punch he had ever taken to the nose- It made his eyes water and fall to a knee infront of her..

She grabbed his silver hair and pulled him close so they were eye to eye-

"Listen here- Keep insulting me like this and I'm going to tear your ass a new one. I don't give a Flying fuck if your a price or whatever- I will fuck you up" She hissed at him-

Nuada felt more confused then he ever had before- The pain seemingly going with the fluttering warmth he felt in his face and blatant arousal that was Damm near impossible to miss- (Y/N) seeing his widened eyes and the flush of color on his pale face, like he was frozen and her own golden eyes traveled down at noticing some new movement.

"O-Oh-" Was all she said- Clearly just as surprised as Nuada was at this point. Her fingers carefully releasing his silver hair as warmth went to her own cheeks.

Nuada wanted a blade to the heart at this point...

#x reader #hellboy #Hellboy Golden Army #prince nuada #Princess Nuala #hellboy 2 the golden army #hellboy 2004 #abe sapien #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #dark elf #elf x reader #half elf #teratophile #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster fudger

[specialagentlokitty]

Who I write for/Rules;

This is a list of fandoms and characters I write for (some may be missing) and some rules, if you’re curious about a fandom or character please message and I’ll let you know if it’s someone I’ll write for or not! If you’re looking for prompts please search the tag Lokittys prompt list

THIS BLOG IS STRICTLY NO SMUT DO NOT REQUEST IT AS THE REQUEST WILL BE DELTED IMMEDIATELY!!

Please if you’re requesting use some manners, say please and thank don’t demand I write something from you

This blog is for all ages, do not be hostile towards any member of this blog as you will be told to remove yourself immediately and if you don’t I will remove you, hate will not be tolerated this is a safe space regardless of age, sexual orientation, gender/pronouns, disability and such

If you’re wondering about a request you have but you’re worried or confused if I’ll write it or not or you’re just curious please reach out through inbox or asks and I’ll let you know! I write both romantic and plutonic requests for a wide range of characters!

Some things I will NOT write include; teenage pregnancy, smut(or related themes), underage!reader x older characters (these will ALWAYS be plutonic either a parental or sibling relationship). If you’re wondering about anything else just message! 💜

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[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 16-Too Late

Traintober 2023

Other Stories

Day 16-Purpose

Too Late

James was the one to find him. Thomas was hidden among the disused wagons behind Tidmouth. It didn't surprise James that none of the others had found him. Most tended to forget this part of the yard existed. James only knew because this was one of the spots he went to when everything became too much. As it had become for Caomhnóir.

The tank engine's fire had long gone out, his soot covering slowly washing away under the rain. Tear tracks covered his cheeks, but he was utterly unmoving. He had never looked so small to James as he did right then. Thomas had an energy that swelled past his frames, always moving, never still for longer than a second at a time. When he was upset it was easy to forget he wasn't as big as the main line engines. As Caomhnóir...there was a reason the likes of Flying Scotsman listened when he spoke. But right now? James just saw a little engine, bending under the weight placed on his frames.

James silently rolled to a stop in front of the tank engine, his crew walking away, leaving the two engines alone. For a long time, they remained in silence, James just letting him cry.

"I was too late." Caomhnóir finally whispered, his voice rough from crying. "She was already gone when we arrived."

James had no idea who he was talking about, but he could certainly guess at their fate.

"You can't save everyone." He reminded gently.

Caomhnóir's laugh was bitter and broken, "Everyone? Right now I'm failing to save anyone."

Well, that was enough of that.

"So you did dump that goods train on me last week for no reason."

Thomas looked up, confused, "No, I was..."

"And you had Henry sabotage the kipper the week before that for nothing."

"Of course not! I..."

"And Gordon derailed at Barrow completely by accident last month."

Thomas fell silent.

James raised an eyebrow, "Well? Did you or did you not need cover for engines sneaking in three times in a month?"

Thomas sighed, "I did...but it was not enough."

"No its not..and it never will be." James sighed, allowing his own grief to slip through. "But we can either accept that and help you save who we can, or let them take our kin unopposed."

"There's just so many." Caomhnóir sounded lost. "When I realized she was gone I grabbed who I could but..."

He was quiet for a long moment, " I moved as fast as I could but...." He looked helplessly up at James, "How do I tell Gordon Pretty Polly''s gone."

Oh. Well, that explained it.

"You don't," James said. "I will."

Thomas looked up to protest but James pressed their buffers together. "You have enough on your frames without this."

Thomas shook, "she wasn't supposed to be withdrawn yet. We had a plan, but suddenly they withdrew her, and by the time I got there..."

James took a deep breathe to steady himself, "it's still not your fault." He pushed on before the little engine could protest. "By all accounts, you made a sudden mad dash across the entire country undetected to try to save her. If you failed, then it was because there was no way to succeed, not because you failed in any way."

"I ran out of coal on the way back." Thomas admitted, "The midnight goods had to sneak me in."

Well, that explained why his fire was out.

"That only proves you did everything you could."

***

11 years later.

Thomas was resting at Tidmouth when he heard Gordon's whistle, joined by his siblings. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Gordon, Northern, and Scotsman.

Instead, a fourth engine was in front of him, the three expected Gresley's smirking on either side of her.

She, somehow was an A3 Pacific in BR Express Passenger Blue with the number 60061 on her buffer beam.

"I never got to thank you for trying to save me."

"POLLY?!?!?"

#Traintober #Traintober23 #Traintober 2023 #ttte fanfic #rws fanfic #fanfic #Prompt-Purpose #ttte thomas #ttte james #TTTE Gordon #TTTE Pretty Polly

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

re: Why the Coppernob/Cornwall war

thanks to @houseboatisland for helping me punch up the insult a bit ;) been carryin' my ass all day, actually —

To a large extent they just have just been instilled with different value systems. So they're constantly judging each other.

Could they have left all this behind when they both separately embarked on their preservation years? I mean I guess but that’d be boring for them both. Let ‘em hang on to what little they have left from those days. Also, there was An Incident that cemented Coppernob’s enmity, justifying it retroactively… and for the next couple hundred years… 

Scene: 1898. F.R. 3 and 4 are making their final preparations, preparing to be dismantled for the last time in the coming winter. 4 has the bright idea to write to Cornwall. Apologize for their part in the old quarrel. Wish him and his well in the years ahead.

It should be noted 3 was against this idea from the start. But 4 was feelin’ chipper with a warm sense of good-fellowship peace-on-earth-goodwill-to-man, so he went right on ahead with the project.

3: He'll never reply.

4: He doesn't have to reply. The letter says so.

3:  Well... don't put my name on it!

4 and 4's driver: *ignore him. 3's name is signed to this bullshit too.*

To everyone's surprise, they do get a reply. Aaaand it's basically 'lol get scrapped losers. couldn’t even remember who you were till cousin columbine reminded me of the two grubby little humpback radishes i used to leave in my dust. anyway lmao imma live forever bitch. hope hell's hot enough for ya… probably gonna be a big step up from barrow tbh.' Bonus: insults their long-dead sisters.

4: .... bit harsh, that

3: I told you! I told you!!

Of course in the end 3 is also preserved and now he can carry the memory of the time Cornwall basically spat in the face of all three of his dead siblings until the end of time.

***

But. 

I'm gonna be honest, I suspect Cornwall doesn't know the letter was sent. Like his attitude was "oh fuck them" and then he and his closest mates had a roaring session where they all tried to out-do each other on what Cornwall should write back but he has no idea some officious Company-proud shed employee dutifully wrote down all the roasts and sent the result back off to Barrow. Cornwall fully disliked the Copper-Nobs, and he is a jerk, but, like. He's not evil. If the engineman-turned-scribe had had the sense to confirm the letter he wrote up on his behalf Cornwall would undoubtedly have been like 'oh lmao no just rip it up.'

Which makes it all the funnier to me, ngl. Coppernob hates Cornwall intensely because he knows what a foul rat he secretly is. Cornwall thinks Coppernob is carrying a new degree of grudge because he didn't write back with kum-bye-ya we're-all-pals-now and scoffs at it. Other engines have picked up on the dark hints they've both thrown out about this incident and have had difficulty assembling them into a coherent narrative, for obvious reasons. It's a mess. If tomorrow they realized they were at cross purposes and Coppernob quoted that letter-he-totally-hasn’t-memorized Cornwall would be like 'WHAAAAT i never wrote that' and Coppernob would fuckin' die of humiliation when he learned Cornwall thought he'd been in a strop for a hundred twenty five years only because Cornwall left his apology on read and now his widdle fweelings were hurt. 'I'd never have given a fuck if there'd been no reply!! I never even wanted Four to send that stupid letter!!!!' 'real shit? haha that actually does make more sense lol your brother was such a loser — '

Aaaaaand I guess that'd be the beginning of the third phase of the endless grudge.

So maybe it’s inevitable. They gotta despise each other. It’s fate. 

#coppernob things #cornwall things #real true railway headcanon #chatter #'humpback radish' was allllll houseboat <3

[lilyharvord]

OMG UR LAST POST ABD SHADE AND CORI GOT ME SO EXCITED!!!

BEHOLD! The barrow calore siblings being stupid and showing tha they are 100% thier parents children:

LINK

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #coriane barrow calore #Shade barrow calore #I love the idea of shade just cussing up a storm left and right #and Coriane being the older suffering siblings like: PLEASE stop saying the word FUCK

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 29 - Out of Service

Oliver Wasn't the Only Engine in that Siding:

Oliver the Great Western Engine is thankful for the second chance that Sodor has given him. Every day, he wakes up and says ‘good morning’ and ‘thank you’ to Douglas before starting his day’s duties. Douglas never really understood the custom.

“Ye dinnae need tae thank me ilka day,” Douglas said one morning. “I do though,” Oliver replied quietly. “It’s important to me… to everyone. You saved us when we had no one to turn to, and it’s because of you that I’m here today. That alone is worthy of my eternal gratitude.”

Douglas left it at that, and puffed away to start his day.

Once Douglas had rounded the bend out of sight, Oliver released a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding in. The Caledonian couldn’t possibly know.

There are two days that Oliver will never forget: the first is the day that Douglas rescued him from the Other Railway, but the second…

The second is the day he arrived in that scrapyard; two months prior. He’d been out of coal, unable to find even a single lump of the black fuel source. He’d been captured by a smirking diesel, who’d dragged him up to the Barrow Scrapyard and left him in a cold, damp siding with his coach Isabel and his brakevan Toad. The trio thought they were alone, until an old, scratchy voice broke the silence.

“Welcome to the ‘out of use’ siding,” wheezed the voice. Oliver looked back. Behind him was a row of old, rusty engines. They were not Great Westerns like him – they were ex-LMS stock. The one who had spoken was a grimy Fowler 4F, who was missing both his tender and his dome. He stood right behind Oliver, but ahead of six other engines. Two were Jinty tank engines, one was a Black 5, one was a Stanier 8F, one was an Ivatt 2MT tank engine – and the last was Pettigrew D5, from the Furness Railway.

The other engines didn’t say anything. They just sat there – silent hulks leaving growing shadows on the ground.

“Hello, little runaway,” smirked an oily diesel. Oliver looked up to see a large, grease-smeared Class 28 rumble up alongside him. “We caught you at last.” Oliver glared defiantly. The Great Western engine refused to give the diesel the pleasure of a reply.

“Heh, not a talker?” sneered the diesel. “No matter. We’ve got a little treat in store for you. You’re last on our siding, so I hope you enjoy what comes next.”

And with that, men left the works coach the Class 28 was pulling, and made their way over to the first of the Jintys.

Oliver couldn’t bear to look – but he was forced to listen. Listen to the hiss of the blowtorch, to the screech of 1000 degrees slicing through metal, to the screams of the engine as it was slowly; agonisingly carved up and turned into a pile of parts.

The Class 28 shunted the parts into the smelter’s shed.

Oliver wanted to cry, but the look on the diesel’s kept his eyes dry. The glee – the sheer, unadulterated glee – in that engine’s eyes was sickening. Oliver wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing his sick, twisted game was getting to the Western engine.

The scrapper’s had waited a week before returning, with that same smarmy diesel. This time, Oliver got to read the engine’s number off its cab.

D5701.

Oliver noticed that the other Class 28s avoided this one. They looked at this diesel as if he was a monster. Oliver agreed with them. This diesel seemed to take enjoyment from the screams of his victims, listening in for the moment the screams dissolved into whimpers.

The torch worked its way through the engines in the siding. The Staniers and the other Jinty were gone by the end of the month, leaving Oliver with the D5, the Ivatt 2MT and the Fowler 4F. All four rarely spoke – especially not with the other diesels growling and sneering at them. All except the other Class 28s. The rest of that class seemed horrified at their siblings’ actions – and they were the only ones that came near them without bringing death.

D5703 rumbled up beside Oliver one evening, looking around fugitively. “Tonight, the Midnight Goods comes across from Sodor,” she hissed quietly. “We’re going to try and redirect their engine this way – but you need to grab their attention.” Oliver couldn’t find the steam to reply.

“We’ll try,” croaked the Fowler from behind Oliver. “Thank you.”

The night wore on, and the four engines, Isabel, and Toad all waited for signs of a Sodor engine puffing past. Instead, D5701 growled past, dragging D5703 behind as she hissed and hurled insults at her unfeeling sibling.

“Try and help those relics, huh?” he snarled. “Try and derail to bring those disgusting Nor-Westers this way? It’s such a shame that the company wants you gone, little sister.” Oliver watched with wide eyes as D5701 dragged their own sister into the smelting shed. There was the distinct hiss of smelting torches being fired up – and then a single, ear-piercing scream. D5701 growled out of the smelting shed, lip curled up in a snarl.

“And let that be a lesson!” he roared. “There is no escape!” The four steam engines said nothing, didn’t give the furious diesel the satisfaction of a victory.

The next day, the men came for the Ivatt, slicing the young engine up extra slowly.

That was when a second young Class 28 began to visit the trio. D5714 was an unassuming young girl - she wasn’t the youngest of her class, nor the oldest. She just was. She pulled her trains when her Crossley motor allowed her to, and she got her driver to play the radio for her when she couldn’t.

“What is the West like?” she asked Oliver one evening. “Well, it’s wonderful,” grinned Oliver. “Beautiful scenery – and all our coaches were painted chocolate and cream. But… the managers didn’t care about steam. Said we were too inefficient. They were… they were proud to claim their region was the first to… to… to abolish steam.” D5714 gasped. “That’s horrible! The same is happening to my class… they say we’re too expensive to keep running. We aren’t ‘revolutionary’ like the other diesels. Big brother 5702 said our best chance of survival was to learn from the steam engines, and use their wisdom to do better at work. Big brother 5701 wants us all to get into the… the scrapping business. He thinks if we do, we’ll survive on the scrap-merchant’s money. Big sister 5700 was scrapped though… and so was big sister 5703! I saw 5701 drag her off.” Oliver paused, realisation hitting him like a runaway freight train.

The Class 28s weren’t even ten yet. They’d been built in the late 50s! The young girl in front of her couldn’t have been older than eight years old. And here they were, being forced to debate the best way to survive. It was sickening – and it was all British Rail’s fault.

The D5 was the next to go. The poor old engine had been sat in that siding for ten years and had accepted his fate long ago. When the cutters came for him, he simply smiled at them. His voice had been lost during the last downpour, and the rust was creeping up his smokebox. He didn’t scream like the other engines – and Oliver could tell how much that infuriated D5701.

“Why was he so quiet? Are the torches not hot enough?” he demanded. The scrappers all shot the diesel dirty looks. “That engine was meant to have been cut up years ago,” one of them snapped. “You’ve kept him on this siding for nearly a decade, and that’s all you have to say?” Oliver felt sick to his boiler. That old engine had been sat out in the wind and snow and driving rain and baking sun for an entire decade. Longer than most of his replacements had even been alive.

And he could tell that D5714 thought her brother’s words were horrible too. “Don’t mind him,” muttered the Fowler softly. Oliver jumped. The 4F had been silent ever since D5703 had been scrapped. “I… beg your pardon?” “Don’t mind that bully,” the 4F said. “His type has always existed, and they always will. But you can’t let them win.” “How do you know?” asked Oliver. The 4F didn’t reply. Oliver had a sinking feeling that he didn’t want to know.

“The Midnight Goods is due in two weeks,” hummed D5714 the next evening. “I wonder if it’ll be that Scot again?” “Scot?” asked Oliver. “Yes – the last one was pulled by some engine with a Scottish accent. He spent a good few minutes hissing insults at 5701.” Oliver noticed that the young engine was no longer referring to her classmate as ‘big brother’.

That evening, D5701 came for the Fowler 4F. Unlike the others, he was dragged out of the siding.

“Well, old timer?” sneered D5701. “It’s your turn. How does it feel to be scrapped by the very people you once worked for?” “Like a cruel irony,” came the blunt reply. “And one I feel you too will come to know.” D5701 laughed – but his laugh was like shards of glass falling, the laugh of a maniac.

“Me?! Ever be shunted off into a siding like you? You outlived your usefulness as a scrapper’s engine, Fowl one, though that’s to be expected from such a relic.” “And what of you? Even as we speak, they are cutting up your class in the sidings of Carlisle. Five gone, and a sixth being withdrawn tomorrow. I do not envy you, if that is what you want me to say. I do not wish to be you, and I will not argue, or beg, or plead, or scream. There is no satisfaction in that. Not anymore.”

D5701’s engine roared at this, backfiring with a massive Bang! A fireball shot up, and he surged forwards, bumping the Fowler hard enough that the old engine went sailing into the smelting shed, joints creaking and groaning before suddenly giving way. The Fowler 4F’s axles shattered beneath him, and he toppled cab over wheels to one side, parts snapping off and smashing down all around the husk of an engine. D5701 smirked.

“You’ll be next, Western,” he said. With that, he rumbled off to deal with scrapping the remains of the Fowler 4F. D5714 sidled up next to Oliver.

“I have a plan,” she said quietly. “But I need you to have at least a little steam. Can your crew build a fire?” Oliver blinked. His crew was somewhere in Barrow – probably trying to find a way to speak to the Fat Controller across the bridge – but he hadn’t heard from them in well over a month. “If you can get them to me, we can probably get something started with all the overgrown weeds…” Oliver replied. D5714 smiled. “Good. When the steam engine arrives, I need you to get their attention, no matter what. Oh! Or if it’s D5702. He’s also a Sodor engine. If you can do that, I can distract everyone else.”

Oliver felt a smile slowly grow on his face. “Thank you,” he whispered. D5714 smiled. “It’s the right thing to do,” she replied. And then she was speeding away before her psychopathic brother could reappear.

Oliver’s crew were back the next day, tugging weeds out of the ground and laying them out in Oliver’s firebox to dry out. They took a floorboard or two from Toad as well. Even so, it was dangerous work. D5701 kept rumbling over to gloat, counting down the days with a manic grin that split his face in two, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. On any other engine, that smile would have been natural, reassuring – D5714 smiled like that sometimes, when Oliver told her about all his adventures back on his branchline – but on D5701, it just seemed sinister.

But he was nowhere to be found the day before the Midnight Goods was due to arrive, in spite of it being the day before he planned to scrap Oliver. D5714 was smirking when she pulled in.

“We’re in luck,” she said. “5701 is stuck at Carnforth due to some faulty points. It gives us an even better chance.” And with that, her driver pulled a sack out of the diesel’s cab and tossed it to Oliver’s driver. The driver opened the bag and gasped.

“Coal!” “It was the last in the bunkers on the branch,” D5714 said. “So use it wisely.” Oliver beamed. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said earnestly. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?” D5714 thought for a moment, then smiled shyly. “I would like… a name.”

Oliver stopped dead, stunned. “You don’t have a name?” “Not many diesels do,” D5714 replied quietly. “British Rail says it encourages deviant behaviour – but I heard that all steam engines have names!” “We do,” said Oliver proudly. “I’m Oliver… and you… what do you think of Eleanor?” “Like that American woman?” asked D5714. “The one who helped found the United Nations?” “Yes,” Oliver replied. “Eleanor Roosevelt. I met her when she came to Britian during the war. One of the most amazing people I’d ever spoken to. She wanted to help everyone… a lot like you.” “I… I like it.” “Then pleased to finally meet you, Eleanor.” Eleanor blushed, and was about to leave when the pair heard a disturbingly familiar horn echo through the yards.

“Quick! He’s coming back!” hissed Oliver. Eleanor sped away, and vanished just before D5701 finally returned. Oliver’s crew hid in Isabel, daring not to make a sound. “One night left, steam kettle,” sneered D5701. “I’m going to enjoy tomorrow.”

With that, he rumbled away.

Night fell. Oliver’s crew began building a small fire in Oliver’s firebox, having first checked his tanks had water. They were in luck. All was still in the yards.

Then, suddenly, the fire alarm rang out, just as a sharp, deep, Caledonian Railway whistle boomed in the distance. Oliver could see in the distance that the main sheds were on fire – and D5714’s plan was suddenly in motion.

Oliver could only hope that his crew had built enough of a fire to make steam.

Back to Master Post

#fanfiction writer #railway series #weirdowithaquill #thomas the tank engine #railways #traintober 2023 #traintober #ttte oliver #ttte D5701 #Class 28 Metrovicks #scrap #tw character death #prequel to Enterprising Engines 'Escape' #ttte douglas

[susiehunsecker]

im new to the terror so forgive me for this v broad question but ... what are The Ships here ... i know fitzier is big but what else is ... jopzier? is that what they're called? i wanna b in the kno so bad lol also feel free to use this space to talk about dynamics (romantic or otherwise) that ur rly interested in ^_^

AGH OKAY.. trying to wrackmmy brain into remembering all the relevant pairings . it's 4am forgive me if i forget.

fitzier - self explanatory, fitzjames and crozier. somehow speedrun being worstie coworkers to being in a 10 year long tender marriage over the course of a two/three year long expedition. my favorite to read fics for / talk about. they look like this to me 🦭🦙

joplittle - jopson and little. i will be real i don't care for them as much just because i care too much about jopson and crozier but i do get it. what if we were both busting our ass for a guy and only one of us got the praise from him for it ❤️ what if we we became responsible for an entire ship's worth of men on a doomed arctic expedition becahse our captain was too sick to think...together ❤️

bridglar - bridgens and peglar. one of the two canonical couples on the crew. very in love very married i'm not big on them but i understand why. they'll only resort to cannibalism if it means they'll both survive they fit together perfectly and when they die they'll wake up in the afterlife with the other in their arms. what's there not to love!

jopzier - jopson and crozier! dutiful steward and the captain he's dedicated himself to out of sheer love and respect And also because he sees him as a mother figure but i won't get into that. okay this one's my actual favourite i can't even pretend i'm not batshit about them. crozier does not deserve that man but it's okay whatever makes jopson happy ❤️ also when i mean jopson sees him as a mother figure the Him in question is himself. i don't believe in that He Wants Crozier To Mommy Dom Him line of thinking. anyways. what was this thread about. oh yeah pairings.

goodsilna - goodsir and lady silence/silna. i wish i could talk about these two more but i'm not articulate enough to convey what i think about them. they're traumabonded siblings they're the only ones who truly see the other for who they are they're completely incompatible they're all the other has they couldn't have possibly loved the other but they did. i need to rewatch the show just to solidify my feelings on them more but god they're one of the best dynamics the show has

hickeygibson - gibson and hickey! RAT MARRIAGE and the cause of most of my mental anguish ❤️ my two beautiful wives who love each other fiercely until the need to survive tears them apart what's not to love

hickeytozer - tozer and hickey. cop boyfriend with the mr beast haircut and his frequently unemployed gay boyfriend that puts his cigarettes out on tozer's arm. they're great i love hickey and his stupid dog he feeds chocolate to for fun

hickeycrozier - hickey and crozier. um. well. what if your captain loved your men more than god loved them but just fucking hated you in particular and used you as a scapegoat for all his frustrations and failings as a captain leading you to become the gay racist joker of the seven seas. and also what if you said a slur you couldn't reclaim in front of him and like 2 years ago he gave you a drink all flirty. well this all happened to my friend cornelius so you can imagine how he feels about that.

fitzfranklin - sir john + fitzjames. This is a sneak they're not at all popular but I have to shove them in somehow. You know how jfj is constantly trying to get older men to praise him like. Haha best walker in the service i told sir barrow that without blushing ❤️ Hey francis can I talk to you about how my dad didn't care about me and also how we're like brothers ❤️. This is the natural culmination of that to me especially considering how hard she dickrides for franklin in the beginning. Please consider them even though they barely exist. For me.

#the terror #Oh god its 4:14 goodmigjt

[blueteller]

The Issue of TBOAH's Narration – was it wrong??

As those who finished reading TCF Part 1 know (spoiler alert); Cale Henituse got his knowledge about the world he got transmigrated into from a series of books called "The Birth of a Hero", by "Nelan Barrow" – aka. Choi Jung Gun, Choi Han's uncle.

CJG wrote them as a "guide" for Choi Jung Soo, Kim Rok Soo's friend, who was originally supposed to be the one transported into that world to help Choi Han defeat the White Star. Plans changed, however, when he and Lee Soo Hyuk altered fate and saved KRS's life, at the cost of their own. So KRS-turned-Cale took CJS's place and the TBOAH series served as a guide for him, instead.

There are still many questions unanswered about this whole thing. For example: how did CJG know all the things he did? The novel was supposedly from TBOAH!Choi Han's point of view, and yet, it had some inexplicable details… like how to earn the Indestructible Shield (which supposedly was never gotten by anyone), or Harol Kodiang parentage – why mention such a thing at all? Was Harol somehow important in the TBOAH verse later on?

Or another example: why didn't the books mention the White Star at all? Surely, if past-volume-5 Choi Han's knowledge was given to CJG to write about, shouldn't he first and foremost explain to CJS who the Final Boss is and how to defeat him??

Or another: why was it so important for CJG to tell his grand-nephew just how pretty the Whale People are???

So many unanswered questions!!

Today, however, I will be focusing on topic of them in particular:

Was TBOAH's narration actually, 100% correct?

Here's the thing: I was re-reading one of my favorite fanfics recently, "In an Instant" by Messy_haired_bum on AO3. I got to the chapter where a certain part of TBOAH came up – namely, "the Last Survivor of the Wolf Tribe", the Wolf King Lock. The characters in the fic discuss a particular problem with that title: Lock wasn't the last Wolf.

Or, well, he wasn't supposed to be.

Arm's goal in attacking the Wolf Tribes wasn't exterminating them at all – it was abduction of their children. Lock's siblings, by all account, should have gotten kidnapped in TBOAH verse, not assassinated. It is important, because later on the races "abandoned by the gods" – like the Wolf Tribe, Vampires and Dark Elves – were meant to be used as sacrifices to the God of Despair, to summon the 8 Unranked Monsters from the demonic statues in Endable, as well as the Temple of the Sealed God in Puzzle City. Lock was part of the team who managed to rescue some of the abducted Wolves, himself.

The problem is this: did the TBOAH!Lock not know about the abduction somehow, only assuming he was the last one when that wasn't the case… or was the TBOAH's narration wrong, for some reason?

The characters in the fic are torn on the issue – neither argument supported by the omniscient narration (which was a clever move on the author, that's why the writing's so great in this) – and the two Locks despise each other: TBOAH!Lock believes his counterpart to be weak, while TCF!Lock thinks the other him was blind and failed to notice his siblings getting abducted.

However, there is a third option. Which is a theory I've had for a long time.

I do not believe that CJG's writing could actually be 100% correct – especially where it comes to subjective stuff, such as beauty or people's personal beliefs. He clearly has some idea of his character's motivations and personalities, and yet he had no idea about OG Cale throwing his reputation for the sake of his step-brother Basen.

On the other hand… I think CJG got his objective facts right, such as the order of events. Even if the timeline wasn't explained to Cale as clearly as he would have wished – causing him to encounter the Whales in the Ubarr Territory, despite visiting the shore way earlier than the events of TBOAH's volume 5… Still, CJG never wrote any lies. Sure, TBOAH!Lock believed to himself to be the last member of the Wolf Tribe when that clearly wasn't the case. However, I think the attack on his village could have been a complete assassination after all.

How, do you answer? One word: Redika.

Redika was the one who attacked Lock's Wolf Village in both TBOAH and TCF, but his actions could have been different in the two timelines. Why...?

...Because of Raon, of course.

Think about it: Cale's actions caused massive differences from the very beginning. From Choi Han's relationships, to the survival of the nameless village where Raon was being tortured at. However, most people forget that there was an important link between Raon and Redika. Redika was the one who sold the Black Dragon Egg to Marquis Stan – and the thing is? He wasn't supposed to do it!

No, in fact, the Black Dragon going on a rampage and dying at Choi Han's hands? It probably gave Redika a lot of trouble! Because he was never supposed to sell that egg!! It never should have been in his posession at all!!!

The Dragon-Half Blood, which was presumably Redika's teacher in magic, gave him the Black Egg in secret in order to "dispose of it" – aka. protect it. Redika agreed, then double-crossed him by selling it to a random low-ranked Arm member (because let's be honest, the Stans couldn't have been high in that hierarchy) for some BIG CASH. Everything went down well under the table of course, so he was pretty confident there would be no bad consequences for him.

...Except, he Dragon escaping and revealing himself in such a public way?? No way he could have covered it up! Redika was probably sweating bullets when he found out! If someone connected the dots about him being involved… oh boy. If the Dragon Half-Blood heard about it, Redika would be good as dead. If the White Star heard about it… he'd be worse than dead.

And I bet the news reached him juuust around the time he got the mission to abduct some Wolf Tribe children. What would a psychopath do in such a stressful situation?

Why, murder a bunch of children, of course!

It makes 100% sense. Maybe Redika didn't kill all the children in TBOAH – maybe it was just some of them. But it was enough to make Lock and others convinced that Arm's goal was assassination. Redika went on a rampage to let off some steam, and probably killed more of the "seeds" than he should have on this mission. He'd probably get even more in trouble because of that, but hey – YOLO, am I right?? 😂

I mean c'mon, it's not like Redika was a particularly restrained guy.

Of course, there were other factors: such as Choi Han and Rosalyn arriving earlier than in TBOAH, thus saving more lives. But I'm pretty sure that Redika's actions were different in TBOAH, as well. There's no way he would be unaffected when he about the Black Dragon escaping in TBOAH. The butterfly effect in TCF is super strong. If tiny differences like Choi Han not beating up Cale resulted in his actions being different, why wouldn't the same apply to other characters? We all know the moment Cale transmigrated, the whole thing went of the rails.

Basically: I think CJG was right in TBOAH, mostly. Except Cale's actions caused such huge waves of changes, the situation changed drastically. Lock believed to be the last of his kind because for all he knew, that was the case. But the attack on his village probably went differently in TBOAH from the start, not just because of Choi Han and Rosalyn.

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #the birth of a hero #analysis #character analysis #tcf theory #choi jun gun #lock #tcf lock #lark #tcf lark #redika #theory time #conspiracy theory #i've connected the dots #hurricale #hurricale effect #everything cale does changes everything basically #did you guys forget that redika was actually kind of important?? #well i didn't! #tcf fanfic #in an instant #tcf headcanon

[lec743]

Darksiders Concept Thingy with Fury (2)

Fury was tending to the bonfire that the human woman had started. It was something to do for the night for the sake of doing it, as the human needed to rest before she could continue. A part of Fury was annoyed by this. If the human wasn't here, they could keep doing their jobs like how they should be doing... Though, the other part of her was a bit fascinated by the human's needs. They are so puny, and yet before the apocalypse they had a global empire full of smaller empires that were full of stories and life and conflict. She's a living piece of that fallen empire and her weakness made Fury curious.

The human woman was carving into a log. It was about as thick as her leg and a bit longer than her leg as well. She's been awkwardly carving into it for a few days now, having barrowed War's smallest knife, which looks more like a small sword in her grasp. She seems to wield it expertly despite how the size makes it sit awkward in her grip.

"Your food is ready [still haven't picked out a name yet]," Strife said as he picked up the five sticks of skewered rabbit meat that he was cooking for her.

Fury saw her head snap up as she set the carving project to the side. "Oh! It looks great, Strife. Thank you." She doesn't get up from her seat as Strife walks over and hands her all of the sticks.

Fury saw the confused look on the woman's face as the firelight danced on her features.

"Are you not going to have any?" She looked to Strife as he sat next to her on the rotten log War brought over.

"No. Don't really need to eat all that often."

"Is something stopping you from eating?"

Fury wondered where she was going with this, "No... Nothings stopping me? Why do you ask?" Strife said, voicing Fury's questions.

"Well, if you aren't hungry, then that's fine. I just really want to share my meal with you if that's okay?"

"What? Do you think Strife went to all that trouble just to poison you?" Fury decided to ask.

Her eyes shined in the firelight as she turned wide-eyed at the giant woman. "No! I-I didn't mean to insinuate--" she turned her focus back onto Strife, "I'm sure your cooking is lovely! I don't think you would--

"Ignore her," Strife drawled as he shifted his helm up to expose his mouth while taking a skewer, "She's just not as nice as you are."

Fury furrowed her brow and picked up a pebble from the ground. Then with an quick flick of her wrist she nailed him right on his metal helm, making the armor ring loudly. She smiled as he grimaced from the sound.

"I'm sure she's nice in her own way," the human stated while Strife glowered at Fury. The human woman then offered a stick to the nephilim woman. "Would you like to eat with us?"

Fury still felt too confused by the offer. She raised her hand and shook her head. "No. I don't need it."

The three of them then heard the heavy foot falls of War as it announced his and Death's return from scouting out the area.

"W-welcome back," the human greeted with fear but Fury saw that she was smiling at her brother's genuinely. Then like what she did with Strife and herself, she offered the skewers to them. "Are you guys hungry? Would you like to eat?"

Death shook his head. "We don't need to eat."

The woman seemed to visibly wilt at the decline, but then War said, "I will join you." That made her smile a little wider as she stretched her arm out to the large nephilim as he walked over and grasped the small snack from her. Then he joined Fury by the fire before eating.

The human was about to dig in before there was a caw from the sky and Dust swooped down and landed on her shoulders. The night air rang with her laughter as she felt the crow preen her hair. Fury saw a soft smile on Strife's lips as he watched the interaction while he ate.

"Of course I'm going to share with you too, Dust. My favorite lil crow."

Fury huffed in amusement. Next to her and her siblings, the crow can be deemed as little, but next to the human, he may as well be half as tall as her. The human offered the strips of meat to Dust and the crow would have sat there and eaten on her shoulders if Death hadn't of walked over.

"You should keep the food to yourself. You need it more."

"The amount I have is enough. With how much horseback riding I've been doing, I'm not exerting a lot of energy. I'll be fine. Besides, sharing is caring."

Strife snorted. "Awe, does that mean you care about me?" He looked away from her as he threw his bare stick into the fire. Fury didn't miss the way he tried to hit her with it as he threw it. Fury then watched the human woman as she looked Strife in the eye with a straight and honest face.

"Yes."

She ate her meal as she continued to keep eye contact with him. It made Fury quietly snicker to herself as Strife would have said something quippy at this point and it seems for the first time in a long time someone has made Strife speechless.

The second eldest nephilim turned away from her honest gaze as he opted to stare at the fire. Fury gave him a smug smile and Strife cursed her out quietly in their native tongue.

Death called Despair for the human when she finished her meal and she bid everyone good night as she used the horse as a pillow. Fury continued to tend to the fire as her brothers found other ways to busy themselves. It wasn't until sunrise that she realized that the human also cares about her, someone that she's obviously scared of. She's not sure how to feel about that.

#darksiders #fanfiction #darksiders fury

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Can you tell us more about who England refers too as mother? And did you divide the UK siblings roughly into two pairs because of Roman Britain? I'm sorry you just keep dropping hints and no one else has asked 💌

Oh lord, okay. So disclaimer, working with prehistory is a fucking crap shoot. Archaeology has a lot of interpretations and not as many facts as historians and archivists like me, especially who studied modern history, would like. And even when history does come to the islands in the form of the Roman writers, that is also largely questionable because propaganda is as old as human communication. So I try to work with what we do know, but before a certain point, I'm basically writing fantasy. But also, no one has to work with history ever in a fucking stupid anime fandom. I'm just a diagnosed anxious headcase who copes with the uncertainty of existence by researching the fuck out of every choice I've ever made sober, including this shitshow of a blog and predecessors. Most of my focus is on much later history, so I'm taking a minimalist approach here and making as little work for myself as possible while at least taking some guidance from history to fit the themes I like so none of this is likely going to be the best take, tbh. That said, onwards into the breach, I fucken guess.

Can you tell us more about who England refers to as mother?

Yes. So most of the time, the conglomerate characters of "Germania" or the fanon "Native America," where dozens and hundreds and thousands of politically interlocked or entirely separate cultures are smushed into one character, make zero sense to me. In the case of Native America, it's downright racist, and in the case of Germania it's basically sucking Tacitus off 2,000 years after the fact. But Brittania could make sense. Being an island separated from mainland Europe made for some attractive socio-political and cultural unity hinted at in writing after the Roman invasion and before the fact in the archaeological record. But how long before the Romans? Where do I begin with Brittania, eh? The Red Lady of Paviland? The Creswell Crags? The Starr Mesolithic Site? Neolithic Chambered Tomb-Shrines? Stonehenge? The Iron Age Hillforts? Ah! There we go, the Celtic arrival in Britain. i.e. the option that makes me do the least work to get the job done. The Celts arrive in Britain about 1,300-800 BCE and in Ireland about 800-500 BCE depending on who you read. There is one tribe among the Celtic that had strong links to Britain and Ireland. The Brigantes were stuck in the border region between what is today Scotland and England, with at least some sort of material connections in Wales and Ireland. So my shortcut to a decent storyline that had some basis in fact, was to have her people interpret her as their patron goddess of Brigantia and link her tightly to Celtic paganism and weakened by the invasions of Rome but also the widespread adoption of Christianity in the 5th century. She was a proud woman who enjoyed the worship she once knew and who loved her children fiercely. She was every bit a Cartimandua or Boudicca. And when Christ and his nails bled her to death, her sons eventually dug her a barrow at the foot of an iron age hillfort, and her only daughter braided her hair and placed her golden jewelry on her one last time and their world was never the same.

And did you divide the UK siblings roughly into two pairs because of Roman Britain?

Yes and no. The Romans did take and hold England and Wales but Wales was much harder to hold onto. Under the Romans, life didn't change there or in Scotland nearly as much as in England. My main reason for splitting them into Brighid and Alasdair and Rhys and Arthur beyond much more modern politics is linguistic. Scottish Gaelic is much more related to Irish than it is to Welsh. And the Welsh word Cymru once referred to both the Welsh and Cumbrians. Now Cumbrian is a fascinating little language that is now dead, but it left a fantastic legacy in its counting system. @oumaheroes headcanons it as being something he uses to refer to his weans, and I, sobbing, concur wholeheartedly. I also have made random references to a shitfaced Arthur babbling in Cumbrian. So with that being a Celtic language in what is today England, et voila, two pairs.

#Britannia and her children || they made a desert and called it peace #the ask box || probis pateo #Alasdair || my heart's in the highlands #Arthur || stone set in the silver sea #Brighid || an bearna bhaoil #Rhys || my word for heaven was not yours