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okamiprincess15 · 1 year

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Here’s a bunch of my ROTTMNT OCs I’ve made that I’ll never get around to writing stories with (I cannot plan out a plot for a story to save my life, essays were the bane of my existence in school.). If you want to use them in your stories, ask for permission first and and give credit. Same with art of said OCs.

This first OC’s visual design was inspired vaguely by Alopex in the IDW comics, although quite a bit is changed.

First name: Fuyuko (‘Fuyu’ meaning ‘winter’ and ‘Ko’ meaning ‘child’ in Japanese)

Last name: Hiramatsu (‘Hira’ meaning ‘level, even, peaceful’ and ‘matsu’ meaning ‘pine tree, fir tree’)

Age: About the same age as Raph

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Ethnicity: Japanese (Yokai)

Nationality: Second generation Japanese American

Languages: Currently knows English, Japanese, Spanish, and is currently working on Mandarin Chinese

Voice Actor: Erika Mendez (Think Ryuko Matoi from Kill la Kill)

Half kitsune on her father’s side (who currently has seven tails, being almost seven centuries old), Half Yuki Onna on her mother’s side (I’m thinking that in the ROTTMNT universe, instead of leaning more towards ghost then yokai like according to real life folklore, Yuki Onna are instead the purely yokai reincarnations of human women who die in the snow, born by asexual reproduction from other Yuki Onna. A Yuki Onna can choose to either have children this way, which produces only Yuki Onna daughters, or by reproducing through sexual reproduction with either yokai, humans, hanyou (half yokai half humans), or mutants, which produces half Yuki Onna)

Family: Her father (Hiramatsu Osamu, or Sam by his wife and close friends) is the CEO of a huge (we’re talking double digit billions) green technology company with a presence in both the human world (thanks to the kitsune’s in born ability to assume a human disguise. Kitsune can also assume a fully fox form but with their multiple tails as the only sign of what they truly are) and the yokai world.

Her mother (Hiramatsu Sumiko) is a former well renowned trauma surgeon, current housewife (Sumiko ends up encouraging Leo to pursue paramedic training in the yokai realm, after seeing his talent as a medic, informing him that the Hidden City had it’s own version of a GED, as well as a few colleges and universities that hold EMS training courses).

Fuyuko also has two younger siblings with her sister (Hiramatsu Yukiko, Japanese for ‘snow child’, two years younger then Fuyuko, Inattentive ADHD) being the middle child and her brother (Hiramatsu Rin, ADHD) being the youngest (five years younger then Fuyuko, as well as the heir to her father’s company).

Appearance (yokai form):

Hair: white hair with ice blue highlights (Think one of those long haired side braided faux hawk hairstyles) and white eyebrows

Eyes: Gold eyes (inherited from her father)

Body: Two white fox like ears on the top of her head with no human ears on the sides of her head. One white fox tail with ice blue tip. Pale, almost translucent skin (result of her Yuki Onna ancestry). Hourglass body type (due to her kitsune ancestry, kitsune have a bit of a reputation for being seductive according to real life folklore).

Appearance (in born human disguise): Now has two human ears on the side of her head instead of her fox like ones, skin is a more human looking pale, hair and eyebrows are now black (still in a long haired side braided faux hawk hairstyle), eyes are now dark brown, no tail. Looks like a normal human of Japanese ancestry. Still retains hourglass body type.

Usual attire: Tends to go for a ‘punk subculture’ clothing aesthetic (partly to irritate her father, and partly because she thinks it looks cool).

Casual: Light grey denim vest with rhinestones on the shoulders, white Trivium rock band logo t shirt (logo itself is black), silver chain necklace with padlock, three row black faux leather spiked bracelets, light gray denim short shorts, black tights, light grey high tops

Fun Night Out: black faux leather jacket, black short sleeve crop top, black faux leather choker with silver studs,red and black plaid thigh length skirt, black fishnet tights, black faux leather steel toe boots

Formal: White pantsuit with ice blue button up shirt, silver diamond snowflake necklace (birthday gift from her nine tailed kitsune grandfather, whom she holds more fondness towards then her father), ice blue high heels, silver wristwatch, white clutch bag

Swimwear: In a fit of stereotypical kitsune mischievousness, bought a cherry red string bikini after she and Raph get together (Raph’s brothers find Raph’s reaction to seeing her in it for the first time absolutely hilarious). Covers it with a green linen tunic dress when going to/from the beach/pool. Wears white flip flops with red straps, and red sunglasses with black lenses. Temporarily switches to stainless steel barbell piercings so her skin won’t turn green and so her silver ones don’t get damaged.

Winter Gear: (Being half Yuki Onna she can withstand the cold better then most, but tries to at least dress in a way that won’t draw too much attention to her in case she needs to use her human disguise) White Parka down jacket with grey faux fur hood lining, red long sleeve shirt with white snowflake pattern, grey polyester winter pants, grey mittens, white winter boots, white ear muffs, black and white horizontal striped scarf

Piercings: Has a silver barbell eyebrow piercing at the edge of each eyebrow, a silver curved barbell nose bridge piercing, and likes wearing non piercing silver cuff earrings since her ears change drastically between her forms.

Make up: Soft rosy pink lipstick, black mascara, black eyeliner in a vintage wing style with a line of white eyeliner along the top, light pink blush

Nails: She has them painted ruby red after she starts dating Raph, originally painted white with ice blue snowflakes

Unique Physiology: While her body temperature isn’t as cold as her mother’s, it’s still a bit cooler then a normal human body temperature. She wears a bracelet that makes it so she feels to others about as warm as the average human both to help her disguise, and because it’s more comfortable for others like Raph (and she does NOT want to risk sending him into brumation. Even if the turtles don’t seem to be quite as susceptible to brumation as their non mutated counterparts, likely due to their human DNA, what with them seeming to be fine in winter weather when they’re bundled up, as shown in ‘Snow Day’).

It also protects her from being a bit more susceptible to heat stroke in hot summer weather (full blooded Yuki Onna like her mother have it even worse, and their ‘heat regulation’ bracelets are vital to them living outside colder climates. Climate change has made things even more hazardous for them.).

Smartphone: Silver phone case with white snowflakes, with a ‘Death Metal’ Aggretsuko (Sanrio character) phone charm *gifts Raph a Pochacco (Sanrio character) phone charm*

Personality: Is generally a nice, cheery person, unless she’s under pressure, in which case she has quite the temper. Is a bit resentful towards her father for spending more time focusing on his career and the charitable projects he runs then spending time with his family (doesn’t understand why her mother is okay with this). VERY protective and loving towards her younger siblings (even if they tend to drive her up a tree with their antics at times). Is neurodivergent (AutismADHD). Suffers from anxiety. Can have a bit of a foul mouth (whatever you’re comfortable with) when ticked off, in a lot of pain, or feeling fiercely competitive. Big history and culture nerd.

Likes: Raph, Non caffeinated sweet baked goods (her favorite being cinnamon rolls),history, wintertime, satin, pure silk, Aromatherapy, Chamomile tea, melodic metalcore music, historical fiction, sociocultural anthropology, environmentalism, learning languages

Dislikes: Spicy Foods, rough wool, elevators (hates the feeling she gets when it goes up or down, plus hearing about the famous ‘Tower of Terror’ ride gave her a fear of any elevator she’s in possibly breaking and going into free fall), bees (terrified of them), historical inaccuracy, hot weather, country music, caffeine (makes her jittery and gives her heart palpitations), math, pollution, golf (cause she thinks it’s boring and her dad loves it), cultural appropriation, cultural inaccuracies

Hobbies: Ice Skating (during fall and winter), Embroidery, Roller Derby (loves getting her frustrations out this way), playing drums, researching sociocultural anthropology, learning languages, researching history, reading/watching historical fiction, watching historical documentaries

Combat Abilities: Ice Mystic Powers, two one handed Tessen (her tessen are mystic weapons that are enchanted to be able to deflect energy attacks in addition to physical ones.)

Okay, this next one is paired up with Mikey! (If anything seems problematic please let me know o I can fix it)

First Name: Gabi (Was born Gabriel, but after coming out as non binary allowed to change their name to the Romanian unisex diminutive)

Last Name: Sala (Occupational name for a worker at a manor house, from the Romance word sala meaning "hall, large room", of Germanic origin.)

Age: about Mikey’s age

Sexuality: Pansexual

Gender: Non-Binary

Pronouns: They/Them/Their

Ethnicity: Romani (Witch)

Nationality: Second generation Romani American (witch) on their father’s side, second generation Romani American (witch) on their mother’s side.

Languages: English, Romanian, Latin, working on Sumerian (learned/learning the latter two at magic school in Witch Town, them being magical languages.)

Human (Witch)

Family: Gabi’s father, Andrei Sala, is a first generation Romani American. Immigrated to Witch Town in the US with his parents (Felix and Elena) and younger brother (David) after the Romanian Revolution as a teenager. Parents opened up a Romani cuisine restaurant in Witch Town, which he eventually took over (with the assistance of David, whom he hired on as his sous chef. Not uncommon to see magic being used to assist in cooking there, as well as magical appliances). Very popular among the Romani American population of Witch Town.

Thanks to Witch Town being a popular place for Romani witches to immigrate to for centuries (to escape persecution), there is a large population of them there (in fact, it’s a popular place for actual human witches from around the human world to immigrate to, along with the ‘Witch Towns’ of other Yokai cities, so Witch Town in the Hidden City has a sizable human population).

Gabi’s mother, Bianca Sala née Dalca, runs an apothecary/potions shop. Immigrated to Witch Town in the Hidden City in the US after the Romanian Revolution (along with a large bunch of other Romani witch families) with her parents (Bianca’s father, Manfri Dalca, running a broom making business with Bianca’s mother, Kezia Dalca, being a housewife) and younger brother (Doru Dalca, works with his father, married to another Roma witch named Miruna, a bookstore owner, with a six year old son named Fabian, and a three year old daughter named Irina) as a teenager.

Only child due to Bianca having had bad complications during her pregnancy with them. Andrei voluntarily got the old ‘snip snip’ after nearly losing them both. Told his parents that he’s got a younger brother whom both will likely have a family of his own (David does end up getting married, and he and his wife have twin boys), perfectly capable of continuing the family business if Gabi, or whoever Gabi married, didn’t wish to (since Gabi was showing no interest in taking over the restaurant one day).

Appearance:

Hair: Black, in an asymmetrical cut

Eyes: Dark Brown

Ears: Yellow Gold Pentagram stud earrings

Make up: Nude rosy pink color lipstick, concealer for dark under eye circles, apricot blush and bronzer, golden brown eyeshadow, brownish black mascara, brown eyeliner in cat eye style, pink gold highlighter under the brow bone, down the bridge of their nose and corners of their eyes

Nails: peach nail polish, both on their hands and feet.

Body: Rectangle body type, light olive skin, neutral skin tone

Clothes:

Casual: Golden yellow short sleeved shirt with cotton orange neck scarf (Mikey secretly really likes seeing his color on them, even though they were wearing that scarf a while before they’d even met Mikey), lots of bangles on their forearms, navy bell bottoms, chocolate brown low heel boots (because if they ever have to run fast, they ain’t gonna be able to do it in high heels, even though they wish otherwise). Switches out for a long sleeve golden yellow shirt in colder months.

Fun Night Out: Creamy white short sleeve men’s button up shirt, forest green vest, maroon bow tie, forest green knee length ruffled skirt, creamy white tights, low heeled chocolate brown boots. Nibbles stays at home when they’re wearing this.

Formal: Turquoise double breasted coat and knee length skirt, with creamy white long sleeve button up shirt, turquoise tie, nude colored tights, and creamy white high heels. Nibbles stays at home when Gabi is wearing this, and their tarot deck is kept in a deck holder in their turquoise clutch bag.

Swimwear: Orange version of the Hirsuit by Otherwild from Poshmark.com, golden yellow sunglasses with black lenses, golden yellow flip flops with orange straps. Nibbles stays at home when they’re wearing this, and their tarot deck is kept in a deck holder in a tote bag along with sunscreen, goggles, and other beach items. Switches out earrings for plain stainless steel ones to prevent his ears from turning green and to prevent damage to his pentagram ones. No make up.

Winter Gear: Turquoise down jacket (wearing his long sleeved golden shirt underneath), forest green winter pants, turquoise winter cap with fleece lining and dark green circle scarf with fleece lining, forest green ear muffs, forest green mittens, chocolate brown winter boots. Nibbles stays at home when it gets cold enough for Gabi to wear this.

Smartphone: (Hey, just because they’re a witch doesn’t mean they can’t have a phone) Phone case resembles a dark starry night sky, has a Corocorokurin (Sanrio character) phone charm. Due to being cautious about homophobes/transphobes possibly stealing it, has an has an anti loss keychain for it, which is on a key ring along with their house key, a copper pentagram keychain, and an orange pepper spray keychain, all attached to a dark green key ring bracelet they wear all the time

Personality: If I were to describe their personality in terms of Zodiac signs, Gabi would be the Cancer to Mikey’s Pisces. (Sorry, this is the best I can do. The rest is up to you guys)

Familiar: Has a magical familiar hamster (A black coated Syrian Hamster if you were wondering) named Nibbles who likes to ride in a specially made pouch Gabi has attached to their belt. The master/familiar bond allows Gabi to be able to telepathically communicate with Nibbles, and while Nibbles can act independently, usually tends to obey Gabi’s orders. Gabi can also use Nibbles for reconnaissance with their master/familiar bond by being able to see and hear through Nibbles’s senses at will. Smarter then normal hamsters. Favorite snack/treat is sunflower seeds. Has a large cage at Gabi’s home, and also likes to use his hamster ball lot. Being a magical familiar he ages much more slowly then normal hamsters (has a twenty year lifespan instead of a few years, Gabi bonded with Nibbles when Nibbles was just fully grown when Gabi was twelve.).

Hobbies: Divination (their favorites are Cartomancy, Astrology, and Astromancy), broom flying, Magic the Gathering (trading card game), making potions, gardening, motorcycle riding (when he’s old enough), writing poetry, star gazing

Likes: Mikey, Divination, Magic, spicy food, broom flying, hamsters, fireflies, motorcycles, alternate rock, jazz, hip hop, art, potion making, gardening, poetry, the stars, lattes, make up (as an art form)

Dislikes: Magic skeptics, religious fanaticism, ‘overly’ sweet candies/foods, discrimination against Romani, geese (got bitten by one as a kid, takes a bit of a sadistic satisfaction in eating Christmas goose), country music, dubstep, herbal teas, sports (finds them boring)

Combat Abilities: Mystic Powers (Obviously) based around tarot cards.

Mystic Power “Focus”: A tarot card deck, the cards being made of paper from linden trees (In Baltic mythology, the linden tree was sacred to Laima, a goddess of fate. Which makes it a good choice for a wood associated with Divination). The black ink on the cards are made of a mix of Gabi’s own blood, alcohol, gum arabica, Raven feather (given freely) ashes, myrrh, and dragon blood resin (not made of ACTUAL dragon blood, but the resin of a rattan palm tree, called Daemonorops draco). The other color inks on them are from naturally made inks using mystical ingredients. They can be used in combat by Gabi channeling their mystical energy into the cards. Each tarot card has a different mystical effect (some are for attacking or temporarily hindering enemies, some are for healing, and some are for giving Gabi and/or their allies a temporary boost). Each card needs time to ‘recharge’ after being used. Also works as a divination tool. Keeps it in a card deck holder on their belt opposite of Nibbles’s pouch.

Divination ‘focus’: A ‘star globe’ (for design think the ‘Solstice’ star globe from Final Fantasy 14) that is a Sala family heirloom passed down to Gabi. Used in combination with their tarot cards (combining the power of the stars and cosmos with their tarot cards), allows them to be able to have ‘visions’ of the future that are much less vague and more far reaching then using their cards alone. Uses this to help foresee ‘large’ threats (from as small as endangering just New York City/ the Hidden City, to as large as endangering the entire world, both human and yokai). Can only use this method under a clear starlit night sky (in other words they can’t use this in anyplace with too much light pollution,indoors, or underground). Can be folded up to be carried on their back.

Okie Dokie, this last one is paired up with Donnie (my favorite Rise turtle!)

First Name: Anne (Anglicized from the name ‘Aine’, which means ‘radiance, brilliance’ in Irish Gaelic. The name ‘Aine’ is also shared with the goddess of love and fertility in Irish mythology)

Last Name: Breen (Anglicized form of Irish Ó Braoin meaning "descendant of Braon", a byname meaning "rain, moisture, drop".)

Voice Actor: Laura Bailey (Think her voice for Maka Albarn from Soul Eater)

Age: About Leo and Donnie’s age

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity: Irish (Hanyou, which means half human half yokai. There are a bunch of real life Japanese legends of hanyou it turns out, most of them being the children of kitsune. If you think about it, the turtles could qualify as this in the Rise universe, what with being half human themselves and ‘pure’ mutants practically being ‘artificial’ yokai.)

Species: Half Irish American Human, Half Merrow (Irish Mermaid)

Nationality: Irish-American (4th Gen on her father’s side, 2nd Gen on her mother’s)

Languages: English, ASL, Irish Gaelic

Neurodivergent (Autism), sensory processing disorder, dyspraxia, asthma

Family: Her father, Connor Breen,a neurodivergent third generation Irish American human, is a marine technician who likes to visit Ireland (now visits with his family, but they now try to stay far away from where his wife’s former family lives) during his vacations to see extended family, as well as admire the local harbors and countryside. It was during one of these trips in his early twenties that he met, and fell in love with his now wife, Aisling Breen. Lives in the Hidden City with his wife and kids, where they live near, and Conner works out of, the local harbor (there are just enough pirates and fishermen, as well as wealthy yokai with private yachts like Big Mama, in the Hidden City that prefer more ‘modern’ style boats, that he makes a pretty good living). Loves fishing, diving, jet skiing.

Her mother, Aisling Breen, is a neurodivergent Irish Merrow who fled from her former birth family in the waters of Ireland as a teenager to escape her drunken tyrant of a father, and her persistent Merrow suitors, to try to become a marine biologist in the human world. She met her now husband, Brian, in her early twenties and eventually went back with him to the US, establishing a presence in the Hidden City working as a marine biologist in the Mermaid Lagoon. Loves harp playing, Traditional Irish Step Dancing, and fashion.

Aisling’s birth form has the stereotypical fin instead of legs that mermaids are known to have, however full blooded Merrow can transform at will to look more human (only their pointy ears and naturally dark green hair a sign of their Merrow heritage) to be able to traverse on land. However Merrow cannot survive in the deep water where they typically dwell to stay hidden from humans (they are born in more shallow water) without their ‘Cohuleen druith’ (Irish for ‘little magic hood’), which are magical salmon skin cowls (despite being described as ‘hats’ by so called ‘eyewitness’ human accounts).

Anne’s older brother, Brian Breen, who is about April’s age, is a half human half Merrow like Anne, but takes more after their Merrow yokai heritage in spirit then she does. Aspires to follow in his mother’s footsteps as a marine biologist. Loves Traditional Irish Step Dancing, fishing, and wood carving.

Appearance (undisguised):

Hair: Shoulder blade length black hair with hot pink highlights (originally dark green before she dyed it to help hide her merrow heritage without the need of a disguise broach)

Eye color: Hazel

Make up (usual): black eyeliner in a short winged style with neon pink eyeshadow, black mascara, black lipstick

Ears: Slightly pointed ears with neon pink rose earring studs on her earlobes and three black hoop cartilage on the upper parts of each ear

Nails: Nails painted neon pink with black tips

Body: Irish pale skin, women’s triangle body shape, slightly webbed hands, dark green fins (resembling that of a dark green Siamese Fighting fish’s pectoral fins) along her forearms, and dark green tinted scales from the hips down (she has legs in her birth form, unlike her mother.). Slightly webbed feet (can fit comfortably in shoes thankfully).

Appearance (disguised, only uses this for when she goes swimming in public in the human world, doesn’t want to risk losing the broach which her brother typically uses when visiting the human world. Is careful about keeping her half Merrow heritage hidden because her mother warned her and her older brother that there are creeps in both the human and yokai realms who have a ‘fetish’ for mermaids, unlike their father who fell in love with her before ever finding out she was a Merrow, and while surprised when he found out, didn’t think it a big deal in regards to their relationship): Her arm fins are gone and her scales on her legs are replaced with skin. Normal rounded ears and the slight webbing between her fingers are gone. Normal human feet.

Clothes:

Casual: Wears a couple of black and pink wool dread falls on each side of her head (check out the black and pink ones at cyberloxshop.co.uk, if you want an example), candy pink goggles with black strap and lenses on her head, wide black choker with metal ring in center with thinner pink choker along the middle of it, A bubblegum pink t shirt with a black biohazard sign, cotton forearm length fingerless black and pink horizontal striped gloves, Super Skull Bondage Pants-Pink from Cryoflesh.com, black platform boots (Optional: Has a bubblegum pink comfort hoodie for cooler months)

Fun Night Out Outfit (Things like EDM events, and other events where appropriate): Typically adds black and neon pink cyberlox to her hair, neon pink goggles with black strap and lenses on her head, EDM Rave Girl Outfit from Evolution Division but the gloves are long enough to cover her forearms, black tights (to hide her scales), black platform boots

Formal: Hair unadorned and let down, instead of her usual eyeshadow, has a line of hot pink eyeliner right above it along her usual black eyeliner, blue red lipstick, coral blush, faux hot pink pearl earrings (a black crystal above each pearl) and 20 inch faux hot pink pearl necklace with black crystals in between each pearl, black satin arm length ballroom gloves, a (made of satin) Black/Hot Pink Morilee High Low Mermaid Prom Dress from Frenchnovelty.com (unfortunately discontinued but the picture is still there), nude colored tights (to hide her scales), black low heel shoes, black evening bag clutch purse

Dancing: Hair unadorned and put up in a stylish bun, instead of her usual eyeshadow, has a line of hot pink eyeliner right above it along her usual black eyeliner, blue red lipstick, coral blush, Long sleeves Latin Dance Dress Tassel Elegant Sexy Women Tango Ballroom Salsa Stage Dance Costumes mesh Patchwork Dancewear from wholesaledancedress.com, nude colored tights, TTdancewear Brand Black Dance Shoes for Women Low Heel Ballroom Dance Shoes

Swimwear: No makeup, pink sunglasses with black lenses, pink with black polka dots string bikini, black flip flops with pink straps, white sun hat with black band, white linen tunic dress (for going to and from the pool/beach), replaces all her earrings with plain stainless steel studs (so her ears won’t turn green in swimming pools, get her good earrings damaged, or get caught on anything)

Winter Gear: Black nylon, down filled parka jacket with neon pink faux fur hood lining. Black long sleeve Daft Punk shirt. Neon pink polyester winter pants. Neon pink nylon gloves. Black ear muffs. Hot pink scarf with black biohazard pattern scarf. Black winter boots.

Smartphone: sparkly bubblegum pink phone case (because if she loses it it’s easier to find a bright color then a dark one) with a black biohazard sign in the center with a Kuromi (Sanrio character) phone charm (has an anti loss keychain for it, which is on a key ring along with her house key, a circuit LED keychain, a pink personal alarm device keychain, a pink pepper spray keychain, all attached to a black key ring bracelet she wears all the time) *ends up gifting Donnie a Badtz-Maru (Sanrio character) phone charm along with his own custom purple satin bomber jacket with a black turtle shell insignia on the back for either Christmas or his birthday*

Personality: Leans more into her human heritage unlike her older brother. She has an introverted disposition (partly due to a low ‘social battery’) although she does hold an interest in people, especially on a societal scale. While she is something of an idealist, it’s balanced out with a sense of pragmatism, as well as being well aware of just how much injustice and cruelty there is in both the human and yokai realms, especially as a hanyou. Has a loopy sense of humor and an empathetic nature. She is detached yet sensitive and may disconnect from anyone or anything she views as toxic to her emotional well being.

Is slow to open up to new people, although she opens up faster if she finds out the other person shares at least one of her interests. Can be as much of a shit stirrer as Donnie at times. Her ‘meanness’ comes out as having a little bit of an ego (especially about her computer and dancing skills) and being a bit of a Machiavellian type schemer, although it’s usually done with good intentions (this can sometimes backfire on her). Thinks science and technology is more interesting then magic (doesn’t hate magic per se, just is desensitized to it’s wonders due to growing up surrounded by it in the Hidden City, and living close to Witch Town, despite being born and raised in the most human world esque, tech friendly part of the Hidden City.). Is passionate about dancing.

Hobbies: Ballroom Dancing (Specializes in tango. Working towards entering into professional competitions one day.), computer programming, Video Games, Anime/Manga (While her favorites are series like Ghost in the Shell, Gundam, and Cowboy Bebop, she likes Donnie’s guilty pleasure, the various JoJo series, too), building Gundam model kits, swimming (she isn’t part of her school/college’s swim team because she thinks her Merrow heritage would be ‘cheating’), charity work (preferably stuff where she doesn’t have to socially interact much)

Likes: Donnie (takes a while to get there though), EDM music (She’s a big fan of Swedish House Mafia, Skrillex, and Daft Punk), Electronic Rock music, Latin music, Jazz music, Celtic music, dancing (speciality is tango, but knows foxtrot, waltz, as well as Traditional Irish Step Dancing thanks to her brother who is even more into it then she is), pink and black (Just as obsessed as Donnie is with purple), computers (wants to get a PhD in computer science one day), fashion, cyberpunk genre, sci-fi anime/manga, MMORPGs, JRPGs, satin (introduces Donnie to the existence of SATIN BEDSHEETS), fleece, swimming, non slimy seafood, caramel, bloody virgins (the mocktail you weirdos), environmentalism, roses, pearls, golden retrievers, bubble gum, her comfort hoodie, her smartphone (another comfort item, one that she’d, like Donnie, have a meltdown if lost or suddenly taken from her without warning)

Dislikes: slimy stuff (her sensory issues), rap, country music, country rap music (shudders), spiders, corduroy (her sensory issues again), fantasy genre, pollution, high heels (hurts her feet), fashion disasters/emergencies, first person shooters (the rampant sexism and homophobia in the online multiplayer community is a huge turn off for her), high energy dogs (like springer spaniels or border collies), doing dishes (hates touching dirty dishes due to her sensory issues), dusting (her asthma), alcohol (due to her maternal grandfather), smoke from smoking (her asthma again, as well as the SMELL), carbonated drinks (sensory issues due to bubbles), licorice (taste AND sensory issues due to texture)

Combat Abilities: Celtic style spear (mystic weapon, can be ‘summoned’ back into her hands after being thrown, chose it because nine times out of ten in a fight of pure skill, both combatants being equal, a pole arm can beat a sword due to it’s range), Water Mystic Powers (without a body of water nearby she can instead extract water from things like plants to use for her attacks, or as a last resort control the water in living things. Think something akin to water bending and blood bending from Avatar: The Last Airbender. She does NOT like using the latter ability, as it’s considered a taboo among merfolk yokai to use it. Donnie actually doesn’t mind her mystic powers as much because they at least follow SOME kind of scientific logic.)

#rottmnt original character #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #save rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt oc

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stele3 · 2 years

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Timshel, reposted

So a while back...God, nearly 10 years ago now, I published a queer YA fantasy book called Timshel through Etopia Press. I don’t know what’s happened to Etopia since then, but my book has been taken down from anywhere legitimate where it might be sold, and instead when you search for it now, there’s only a bunch of weird cryptocurrency-related sites. I have no idea what happened there and no one from Etopia has responded to my queries.

I checked my contract and their right to publish has expired, so I’m putting the book up for free, chapter by chapter, here on Tumblr. They also never sent me an author’s copy, lol, so I am having to copy and paste the chapters from the Kindle version that my wife bought. I might try to self-publish through Lulu Press or submit it somewhere else, but for now I mostly wanted to reclaim the story from whatever weird internet rabbit-hole it’s fallen down.

Here is Chapter One.

Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a village East of the mountains and North of the sea. The village was called Summerton and the boy’s name was Eiland…

Eiland had lived in Summerton all his life. His father was a healer, and his mother had borne five children. They were well respected in the village, if not wealthy, and though their bellies did not hang over their belts, they never went empty either.

Being the youngest of three brothers, Eiland was not his father’s successor; Granpapa had always said Eiland possessed a rare gift for healing, but tradition bestowed the family trade on Marcus, his oldest brother, and Eiland had yet to find anything else that interested him. Neither was he a particularly eligible match for any of the young women of the village. He was handsome enough, with a small but wiry frame and a shock of black hair, yet the dowries of his two older sisters had sapped the family’s wealth enough that the mothers of the village politely looked elsewhere to send their own daughters.

Thus he had reached the age of ten-and-seven summers without taking up either a trade or a wife. It was the cause of some embarrassment in his parents’ minds. Two years ago Eiland’s father had even tried to send him to the village temple, but the priests had sent him back with the complaint that neither his feet nor his mouth would stay still long enough to learn the Writings.

His mother had been happy to have him returned. Of all her children Eiland had shown the most skill at gathering herbs, roots, and flowers in the woods that surrounded Summerton. It had never been entirely appropriate for a woman, even a healer’s wife, to assist in her husband’s work, and she was only too happy to pass on the task to Eiland.

For Eiland, that simply meant more time spent in the woods, wandering its paths with a stick swinging back and forth in his hands. Eiland loved the woods, had always delighted in following animal trails and making a few of his own. He spoke the tongues of every bird and knew the branches of every tree. Such adventuring made him an oddity in Summerton, whose residents shunned the woods and clung to the light of the temple fires. Yet his family’s reputation and his own open smile made him a harmless oddity, and despite his advancing age he was still the baby of his siblings. So his parents indulged his wild, trampling ways and did not press him too hard about finding a proper trade.

Afterward, the priests would say that was his downfall.

One day, in the green, princely days of summer, Eiland was cutting through the apple orchard on his way home when movement caught his eye. Two rows over, the top branches of a small tree shook violently back and forth, yet Eiland felt no breeze. Walking in that direction, he ducked around one of the burn piles that peppered the orchard to find a strange boy who he did not know. The boy gripped the lowest boughs of the tree, shaking them hard. Apples, mostly the half-withered, worm-riddled survivors of the harvest, rained down around him. A small pile already sat beside a battered travel pack on the ground.

“Hello,” Eiland said.

The boy let go of the branches and whirled around. He was younger than Eiland, with a lean face and longer-than-fashionable brown hair. His skin looked surprisingly dark, darker even than Eiland’s shoulders at the end of summertime.

“Are you stealing apples?” Eiland asked.

The boy scowled. “No. So what if I am?”

Eiland considered it then shrugged. “We’ve already picked most of the harvest. You’re welcome to anything that’s left, I suppose; it’s all just worm food anyway. Yuck.”

He made a face and kicked one of the fallen apples, sending it rolling into the tall grass. The boy still looked suspicious, which piqued Eiland’s curiosity. Everyone in Summerton liked him—well, anyone who wasn’t trying to teach him holy verses—and he was accustomed to being met with smiles, not nervous fidgeting and glares.

He sat in the grass and took out the small meal his mother had given him this morning. The boy eyed him suspiciously at first but he did eventually accept some of Eiland’s bread and peaches and milk, and sat nearby listening to Eiland prattle about the many crops and orchards around Summerton. There was a great deal to tell. Something always needed to be gathered up and sold in town or put in carts to be exchanged for goods at one of the king’s trading posts. As the youngest son of a healer Eiland had been exempt from much of the harvesting duties, for which he felt thankful. He found such work deadly dull. Which could really be said about the rest of Summerton as well.

“Then why don’t you leave?” the boy interrupted to ask.

“Oh, don’t be silly. Where would I go?”

The boy only shrugged and took another bite of bread. His fingers were deft and strong, if rather dirty, and he tore off bits of food like a squirrel rather than shoving it all in his mouth at once.

When he bit into the peach he gave a surprised groan of pleasure, his eyes closing. “Do they not have peaches where you come from?” Eiland asked, though he couldn’t imagine such a thing.

The boy’s eyes snapped back open. “I’m not from anywhere.”

A beggar boy, then. He did look underfed and for all his fastidiousness, he finished his portion of the food in record time. Eiland felt a pang of sympathy; Papa always said that his heart was too soft. Too often his meals found their way into the bellies of the village’s stray dogs.

“Want my bread?” he offered, waggling the remains of his bread crust in the air.

“No.” The boy looked away, his mouth pressed in a line.

“Oh well, I’ll just throw it away, then.”

“What? Don’t do that!”

“But I’m so full,” Eiland said, letting the bit of bread dangle from his fingertips. “And it’ll just go stale and moldy if I save it for later. Better let the birds have it.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at Eiland. “You’re just trying to get me to take it.”

“Well, yes.” Eiland cocked his head to one side and offered up his best smile, the one that Mama said could charm an egg out from under a hawk. “Is it working?”

The boy eyed him for another moment before extending his hand. Eiland tossed the crust to him and watched one corner of the boy’s mouth tick up into the tiniest smile.

“It’s good bread,” the beggar boy said softly after taking a bite. “Thank you.”

“We’ve all the best food,” Eiland responded around a mouthful of peach. “The best bread, the best peaches…and there’ll be strawberries in springtime. That’s why I can’t leave, you see. I’d hate to not be here for the strawberries.”

“So long as you don’t have to pick them,” the boy amended in an undertone. He shot Eiland a sidelong look.

Eiland pretended to be affronted. “I do my part! I fetch Mama everything she needs to make the draughts and salves for Papa. He’s the town healer, but Mama makes a lot of his medicines, even if she doesn’t like me to say so. Mama says that I’ve a keener eye for roots than anyone she’s ever met.”

The boy appeared unimpressed. “Are there many healing roots in an apple orchard?”

Eiland stuck his tongue out. “I’m taking a rest.”

“Because looking for roots is such hard work?” the boy shot back.

“It’s skilled work,” Eiland insisted, and the boy rolled his eyes. “And you shouldn’t poke fun, you were in the orchard stealing apples.”

The beggar boy’s little smile dropped away. He rocked forward as if about to climb to his feet, like a wild animal ready to bolt. Perhaps Eiland really had spent too much time in the woods, because he immediately wanted to make him stay.

“Have you hurt yourself?” he asked quickly, pointing to the boy’s hands. His knuckles were wrapped in thin, dirty bandages.

The beggar boy froze in place, halfway onto his knees. “No.”

“Yes, you have. I have something that can help with that.” Eiland slung his herb bag around into his lap and dug through it, coming up with a handful of numeria stems. “Here it is! Now come on, give me your hands.”

The boy didn’t move, so Eiland got up on his own knees and shuffled closer. Reaching out, he took the boy by the wrist, clucking his tongue at the grubby bandages. “See, now, it’s a good thing I’m here. You’re just bound to get the pus if you don’t change these.”

“What’s the pus?”

“I’m not really sure. But whatever it is, it smells terrible. Here now, hold still.”

Unwrapping the bandages, Eiland went still. Underneath, the boy’s knuckles had gaping splits, just like the ones the farmers got in wintertime…and the ends of the last two fingers on his left hand were missing. The skin at the tips of the shortened fingers was smooth and pink with healed scars.

The boy crouched on his tense legs, ready to spring away at one wrong word. So Eiland bit his lip and said nothing. Squeezing the numeria stems, Eiland let a few drops of their juice drip into the cuts. He expected the boy to hiss and pull away, but he stayed completely still.

“If you come to my father’s house tonight, he’ll re-bandage that for you,” Eiland said. “He’s the best healer in the world.”

“In the whole world?” the boy asked softly. When Eiland looked up their eyes, and the expression in them only heightened Eiland’s impression of a creature peering out of the brush, anxious and ready to bolt, yet filled with longing. His eyes were bright green, brighter than a newborn’s. Eiland didn’t think he’d ever seen eyes so green.

“Well,” Eiland amended just as quietly. “The best one in this part of the world.” He smiled again.

The boy pressed his lips together but relaxed slightly, watching as Eiland tended to his cuts. Over their heads, the leaves of the apple tree fluttered in an actual breeze.

Finishing, Eiland cast aside the crumpled numeria and climbed to his feet, dusting off his backside.

The boy stood too and blurted out, “You won’t tell anyone I was out here?”

Eiland hadn’t planned to, but he was the youngest of five children; he never passed up an opportunity to tease. “What will you give me if I don’t?”

The boy’s cheeks flushed hot. “I haven’t got anything.”

“Oh, that’s all right. Do you see that apple?” Eiland pointed to one above their heads that looked perfectly round and red and not at all like the worm-picked, overripe ones that had fallen off the tree. “If you climb up and get me that apple, I’ll promise not to tell anyone,” he said then hesitated before impulsively adding, “and I’ll give you a kiss.”

The boy looked at him sharply. Eiland didn’t know how to decipher his expression. It didn’t have the suspicion that signaled Eiland to quickly turn the whole thing into a joke, nor the nervous excitement that would hang heavy between them until it drew them together like rocks sinking into a pond. Eiland knew that some boys would let him lead them behind the mill, or would lead him instead. Both were lovely and strange and strictly forbidden by the names of every god—but they didn’t lie down with one another, they only ever kissed. In the autumn or maybe the winter of this year, Eiland would finally be matched with a wife just like all the others boys in town, so he didn’t really see the harm in a little kissing.

This boy didn’t act like the others, though, no suspicious frowns or shy smiles. He just stared at Eiland. “Would—would you really?” he stammered. “You’d kiss me?”

Eiland considered it. The boy’s hair needed washing and so did his clothes, but his eyes were really quite green and his face, if sun-brown and thin, had a strange handsomeness to it. And besides, he was a beggar boy. Who would he tell? “Yes. I’ll kiss you if you fetch me that apple.”

The boy stared at him for another moment then transferred his gaze to the apple. It wasn’t that high in the tree, yet the boy looked as though it sat at the top of a mountain. When he finally grasped the lower limbs of the tree and hauled himself upward, Eiland was disappointed to see him moving clumsily, his limbs stiff. He clambered up the tree and back down with all the grace of an old man. Eiland thought it a rather poor performance.

Still, a promise was a promise and the boy presented the apple to him with an expression of such nervous hope that Eiland let his satchel fall to the ground, took the fruit, and dropped it on top.

The boy watched with wide eyes as Eiland stepped forward, smiling coyly through his eyelashes before tipping his head back—and oh, that was a lovely feeling. Eiland wanted for size but he was still taller than most of the girls in town, and it had always given him a strange thrill to lift his chin, arch his neck, and stretch his shoulders upward for a kiss.

At first it was just a dry brush of skin, almost invisible in the darkness underneath the apple tree, surrounded by the drone of insects. Such a small thing, just their lips pressed together dry and close-mouthed, yet the boy held as still as if he’d just seen a bear. Then Eiland started to move away and the boy’s hands shot out, stuttered, and tentatively settled on Eiland’s shoulders.

“Is that it?” he asked plaintively, his eyes fluttering open, and Eiland laughed, surprised and happy, before stepping back in and catching the boy’s face between his hands.

“Well, if you insist,” he whispered. The boy caught his breath and held it. Eiland drew out the moment of contact, leaning in slowly, slowly, so slowly that it was almost a shock when their lips touched again.

The beggar boy did not kiss very well. He pressed too hard at first, he didn’t tilt his head quite right, and he didn’t open his mouth until long after Eiland had. Normally this would have been an additional disappointment, but somehow Eiland could tell this was his first kiss and thus felt inclined to be generous. He put his hand over the boy’s jaw and guided him until their mouths met at a better angle.

After that the beggar boy seemed to pick up quicker, letting his lips part and even scraping his teeth over Eiland’s chin in a way that made Eiland’s scalp shiver. The boy ran his hands over Eiland’s shoulders as they kissed, rising to touch the back of his neck then running down his spine. Eiland shuddered like a cat shaking off the dew. The fabric of the boy’s threadbare shirt caught on the calluses of Eiland’s fingertips. He could feel how the skin underneath was a little damp with sweat. Eiland cupped the sharp jut of the boy’s shoulder blades and vaguely wondered, as their mouths turned and met again and again, what it would be like if he were not wearing a shirt. He’d never done that before, never dared, but something about how the beggar boy pressed against him told Eiland that he wouldn’t say no if Eiland asked.

For the first time ever, this didn’t feel like just a little kissing.

Eiland tucked in closer, greedy for contact. The boy was only a little taller than him but his arms reached all the way around Eiland, enfolding him completely. Eiland had missed being touched. Ever since his sister Imra had left for her betrothal he’d had to survive on his mother’s too-brief hugs and his father’s distance.

Now, pressed together from shoulders to knees, he felt drunk with physical contact and still he wanted more. He pushed up onto his tiptoes, not knowing what he meant to do except that he needed to get closer. Their bodies rocked together. The boy tore his lips away and gasped. They stood with their arms locked around each other, breathing into each other’s mouths.

From the other side of the orchard, Eiland’s mother called his name.

It felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water against Eiland’s back. He blinked and stepped away, struggling out of the muzzy-headed haze that he’d sunk into.

“Crickets,” he gasped, scooping up his herb satchel and the apple. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” The boy grabbed Eiland’s sleeve. “Wait, please—what’s your name?”

Eiland hesitated, a trifle alarmed at the gleam in the boy’s eye, but then his mother called again, “Eiland!” and he could only roll his eyes and shrug awkwardly.

“I’m Charon,” the boy said.

“Eiiilaaand,” his mother called from much closer this time. Eiland rocked up onto his tiptoes again to press a quick kiss against Charon’s mouth before twisting away and hurrying out into the bright sun. His mouth felt heavy, obvious, and he took a large bite of the apple to hide how his lips were slick and swollen.

His mother stood where the paths of the orchard forked. When she saw him hurrying towards her she put her hands on her hips. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for that gyman root, young man.”

“I’ve got it here, Mama.” Eiland pulled a long, gnarled brown root out of his satchel.

Her frown remained in place. “I know you can’t have spent half the day looking. You’ve a sharper eye than that.”

Eiland pressed his lips together. He’d always been a bad liar. “I wanted an apple,” he said finally, holding up the fruit in his hand.

“Eiland, the miller’s son has been ill for two days! They came to your father for help, it is unkind of you to keep them waiting while you go climbing about—oh, good day, I did not see—”

She broke off, staring past Eiland with wide eyes. Turning, he winced when he saw that Charon had followed him out of the apple grove and stood in the middle of the trail. He didn’t look at Eiland, though. His gaze was fixed on Eiland’s mother.

Fingers closed tight around Eiland’s upper arm, and his mother jerked him away so sharply that he stumbled. The apple slipped from his hand.

“Mama,” Eiland protested, struggling to keep his feet as she pulled him down the path toward the village.

“Hush,” she said without turning. Her face looked deathly pale.

When they reached the fence between the orchard and the wheat fields, she darted a quick glance back over her shoulder. “Every name of the gods. Did he try to talk to you?”

“What—he just—asked me my name.”

“You didn’t tell him. Eiland!”

“He heard you calling me!”

They drew up short and she grasped his shoulders with both hands, her expression wild. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? All the gods, did he Curse you?”

All the blood in Eiland’s body went still at once. The Cursed ones. He’d heard about them all his life. Every child had heard the story of the first sons and how the elder had killed the younger for jealousy. As punishment the gods had laid a mark upon his brow.

A mark that became the Curse, the great sickness that had darkened the land since the beginning of time itself. Yet unlike any of the illnesses his father treated in the village, this Curse did not pass by touch or chill or poison. It was given. The Cursed ones had the power to wish their misery upon others.

All it took was three words: I Curse you.

Eiland had never met a Cursed one before. They were wanderers, traveling the land, stealing what they could and threatening for what they could not. It had been years since one had come to Summerton, though the children kept the memory alive in their own games, pointing fingers at one another and shouting, “I Curse you!” then falling to the ground, their legs kicking in imitation of the terrible Agonies.

It had never occurred to Eiland that a Cursed one could be young, or handsome. In his mind they were always old crones, twisted with age and disease, glaring out at the world with hateful eyes. There had been nothing hateful or cruel about Charon—yet suddenly Eiland remembered the bits of cloth wrapped around his fingers and how slowly he had clambered up the tree, as if his clothes hid some terrible wound.

A wound that maybe Eiland had pressed against. Crickets, he’d kissed a Cursed one! He felt sick.

“No,” he said finally. “He didn’t Curse me.”

Relieved, his mother put a firm arm around his shoulder and rushed homeward, chiding him all the while. Eiland listened with vague ears as he looked back over his shoulder, back through the low boughs stripped of fruit. If Charon was still watching them from among the apple trees, Eiland could not see him anymore.

#timshel #my writing

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tonguetiedraven · 2 years

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I have a question!

In your fanfic for BigBang event, you made a tongue tied Bon took care of Ravens. You said it was inspired by a fairytale.

The question is: is your name also inspired by the same tale? If so, what is it?

Btw, love the fanfic, can't wait to know the conclusion!!

They are absolutely inspired by the same fairy tale :D It was my favorite fairytale as a kid. My grandparents told me the story of the 'Six Swans' but their version had ravens instead of swans, and also had some of the 'Twelve Brothers' blended in.

The basic story is that a man with seven kids (six sons and one daughter) marries a new woman (a witch) and he hides his kids in fear that she'll do something to them. The new wife finds out about the kids and enchants the sons with magic shirts so they're all turned into birds -- ravens in the version I was told.

The boys tell their sister that there is a way to break the curse. She'll need to hand make them each a shirt made from thistle, and put it on them. She also cannot make a single sound for the six years she's making the shirts. If she does, they'll be permanently changed into birds, and she'll also be turned into a raven.

In the ultimate show of sibling support, she agrees to do it.

She hides away for several years, making the shirts and being silent while her bird-brothers hang about, until one day a king finds her and promptly falls in love with her. He takes her silent self to his palace and marries her (I do hope he got her consent despite the speech problems).

Unfortunately, our heroine's new mother-in-law is a right jerk and accuses her of being a witch. Her husband refuses to believe the lies, but she can't come to her own defense, and because she can't refute the claims, he eventually tearfully agrees she must be a witch. (Her husband seems to be an utter idiot.)

Our heroine, realizing time is short and that her tongue-tied deadline is quickly approaching (the same day as her execution, what a coincidence!) works extra hard on the shirts. Her brothers are fluttering around, pecking anyone who bother her and just adding to the whole 'she's a witch!' thing.

On the day of the execution, she has finished all the shirts, but one. She's missing the sleeve on it, but she shoves them on her brothers anyway. They all turn into humans again -- except the youngest brother with the partially finished shirt, he's human with a wing for an arm -- and they save her from the pyre and explain what happened. The evil mother-in-law was burned in her place and the king and our heroine lived happily ever after.

I don't really know why it was my favorite, but it certainly was and I thoroughly enjoyed blending it with the story in Thistle Threads <3 I'm so happy you're enjoying the story!

#asks #fairy tales #my grandparents had names for each of the brothers #and the sister #Adelaide was her name #I want to use it somewhere #but haven't found the right place yet ;)#if you were going to make one of bon's ravens not turn fully human #who would you pick?#who should get the bird wing?

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1962dude420-blog · 3 years

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Today we remember the passing of Toots Hibbert who Died: September 11, 2020 in Kingston, Jamaica

Frederick Nathaniel "Toots" Hibbert, OJ (8 December 1942 – 11 September 2020) was a Jamaican singer and songwriter who was the lead vocalist for the reggae and ska band Toots and the Maytals. A reggae pioneer, he performed for six decades and helped establish some of the fundamentals of reggae music. Hibbert's 1968 song "Do the Reggay" is widely credited as the genesis of the genre name reggae. His band's album True Love won a Grammy Award in 2005.

Hibbert was born on 8 December 1942 in May Pen, Jamaica, the youngest of his siblings. Hibbert's parents were both strict Seventh-day Adventist preachers so he grew up singing gospel music in a church choir. Both parents died young and, by the age of 11, Hibbert was an orphan who went to live with his brother John in the Trenchtown neighborhood of Kingston. While working at a local barbershop, he met his future bandmates Raleigh Gordon and Jerry Matthias.

Hibbert, a multi-instrumentalist, formed Toots and the Maytals in 1961. He could play every instrument used in his band and would later cite Otis Redding, Ray Charles, Wilson Pickett, and James Brown as key influences. According to Hibbert, Maytals is a reference to the Rastafari term for "do the right thing". There are also statements attributing the source of the name to Hibbert's hometown of May Pen. The band was originally a trio with Gordon and Mathias, and later added Jackie Jackson and Paul Douglas.

Much of Hibbert's early recorded output, such as "Hallelujah" (1963), reflects his Christian upbringing. He was also known to write about Rastafarian religious themes, and in an early Maytals song, "Six And Seven Books of Moses" (1963), he addressed the folk magic of obeah and its use of the occult literature of Biblical grimoires, such as the Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses.

The Maytals became one of the more popular vocal groups in Jamaica in the mid-1960s, recording with producers Coxsone Dodd, Prince Buster, Byron Lee, Ronnie Nasralla, and Leslie Kong. This success included winning Jamaica's National Popular Song Contest three times with songs Hibbert wrote: in 1966 with "Bam Bam", which won a national song competition, 1969 with "Sweet and Dandy" and 1972 with "Pomps & Pride"

The first Toots and the Maytals album released and distributed by Chris Blackwell's Island Records was Funky Kingston. Music critic Lester Bangs described the album in Stereo Review as "perfection, the most exciting and diversified set of reggae tunes by a single artist yet released." Chris Blackwell had a strong commitment to Toots and the Maytals, saying "I've known Toots longer than anybody – much longer than Bob Marley. Toots is one of the purest human beings I've met in my life, pure almost to a fault."

Hibbert also appeared in the groundbreaking Jamaican film The Harder They Come, in which his band sings "Sweet and Dandy". The film's soundtrack included the Maytals' 1969 hit song "Pressure Drop". The Harder They Come features fellow musician and actor Jimmy Cliff in the leading role as Ivan, a character whose story resembles Hibbert's.

On 1 October 1975, Toots and the Maytals were broadcast live on KMET-FM as they performed at the Roxy Theatre in Los Angeles. This broadcast was re-mastered and released as an album entitled Sailin' On via Klondike Records.

In 2004, Hibbert was featured in Willie Nelson's Outlaws and Angels. Hibbert carried on touring the world, and his band's True Love won the Grammy Award for Best Reggae Album in 2005. Nelson released a reggae album entitled Countryman (2005) which featured Hibbert on the song "I'm a Worried Man". Hibbert was also featured in the music video for the song, which was filmed in Jamaica.

In 2006, Toots and the Maytals covered Radiohead's "Let Down" for the Easy Star All-Stars album Radiodread, a reggae version of the English rock band's OK Computer. At the end of the year, Hibbert joined Gov't Mule for their New Year's Eve concert, documented in their Dub Side of the Mule release.

In 2009, Hibbert collaborated with MCPR Music and Steel Pulse's Sidney Mills, who produced Jamaican percussionist Larry McDonald's album Drumquestra. His track is called "What about the Children?" The same year he also performed vocals with Iowa reggae band Public Property on their album Work to Do.

In 2011, Hibbert was featured in the documentary Reggae Got Soul: The Story of Toots and the Maytals which was airred on BBC. Described as "The untold story of one of the most influential artists ever to come out of Jamaica", it features appearances by Marcia Griffiths, Jimmy Cliff, Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, Willie Nelson, Anthony DeCurtis, Ziggy Marley, Chris Blackwell, Paolo Nutini, Paul Douglas, Sly Dunbar, and Robbie Shakespeare.

In May 2013, Hibbert received a head injury after being hit by a thrown bottle during a performance at the River Rock Festival in Richmond, Virginia, U.S. forcing him to cancel several months of live shows. The bottle was thrown by William C Lewis. Lewis was facing a charge of malicious wounding, but he pleaded guilty to lesser charges. Despite Hibbert pleading in a letter to the judge, "He is a young man, and I have heard what happens to young men in jail. My own pain and suffering would be increased substantially knowing that this young man would face that prospect," the judge gave Lewis a six-month sentence.

After a three-year hiatus following the incident at the River Rock Festival, in 2016 Toots and the Maytals returned to the stage and began touring again. Hibbert's vocals appear in the Major Lazer and Bad Royale 2016 collaboration, "My Number", which samples his band's earlier song "54-46 That's My Number".

On 25 July 2018, Hibbert performed on the U.S. television show The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon with Toots and the Maytals where they debuted an original song entitled "Marley" as well as performing their classic hit song "Funky Kingston" in a live performance.

Toots and the Maytals have been cited as inspiration for other music artists as per career longevity. Jamaican artist Sean Paul explained this in saying, "I've seen some great people in my industry, you know, people like Toots…Toots and the Maytals. Toots, he's a great reggae artist and he's still doing it…He's up there in years and he's doing it. Those kind of artists inspire me. I know I'm just going to keep on doing music as long as I can."

In 2010, Hibbert ranked No. 71 in Rolling Stone magazine's "100 Greatest Singers of All Time". In August 2012, it was announced that he would receive the Order of Jamaica, the country's fifth highest honour

In August 2020, it was reported that Hibbert was in hospital "fighting for his life" in a medically induced coma. On September 12, 2020, a statement on the band's Facebook page announced that he had died, at the age of 77. The Gleaner and Rolling Stone later confirmed the announcement, reporting that Hibbert had died at the University Hospital of the West Indies in Kingston, in a medically induced coma. It was later confirmed that COVID-19 during the COVID-19 pandemic in Jamaica was the underlying cause of his death.

#September 11 #2020 #Toots Hibbert #R.I.P.#Reggae

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

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Would you please write a fic about alex and jo help their daughter with her homework, they would be kinds cute help them study

cross my heart, hope to die, please stick this pencil in my eye

there’s a reason this took me forever. reason number one, two, and three; proofs. i was unable to write this because of proofs. i got this ask and LIKE A CHILD decided that i wanted to make my fictional characters suffer as much as i did. so once i was done with proofs, i had to write something about proofs, which made me exhausted because i hate even talking about proofs

that made no sense, but here’s this thing that i made. lots of it was my real life monologue, screaming at my computer bc of fucking proofs. enjoy. (also, let’s appreciate the fact that i updated three whole days in a row)

(also, another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much” series, where i name jolex babies after his AHS characters)

Alex Karev sat in the drivers side of his SUV, making a right onto the upcoming street as he listened to the song playing on the radio. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel absentmindedly, pulling up to the curbside of James Madison Middle School, waiting patiently in his seat until he heard the five minute warning bell ring.

When the loud bell goes off, he exits the car and makes his way to the other side, learning against the door so his kids would know it was him. Too many parent’s owned black range rovers, and the last thing Alex needed was for either one of his kids to climb into the back seat of some stranger's car.

He didn’t need to wait long for children to start piling out of the school in large crowds. Middle school was so different from elementary, for his kids at least. He remembers when they would come sprinting out of the building as if their lives depended on it, but now they just casually strolled, no matter how much they liked or disliked school.

A few minutes later he catches sight of his daughter, who’s eyes light up when she sees him. He wasn’t supposed to pick them up today, the nanny was. But he had gotten off of work early and had insisted with Jo that he be the one to pick up the kids. It was a task he wished he got to do more often.

“Hey.” his daughter greets him with a smile on her face. He steps aside and lets her enter the side door, where she flops her black backpack on the floor and settles into the seat, pulling out her phone and begins to start scrolling through it.

“Dad!” he hears another voice exclaim, quickly tracing it to his son, who was currently running to the car, backpack bouncing up and down behind him. The sixth grader moved across the property quickly, greeting his dad with a fist bump before sliding into the back seat.

He closes both of his kids doors before making his way into the driver's side, revving up the car’s engine before he drives down the long block, whatever music his daughter decided on playing through the radio.

Alex winces when the music begins to blare through the car, “Brynn, turn that crap down would you?”

Brynn’s face looks scandalized. “It’s not crap. It’s art.” she emphasizes, turning it up even louder and screaming the words. (Poor Brynn couldn’t sing, and she knew it)

“I came in like a wreeckingggg ballll I never hit so harddd in loveeee all i wanted was to break your walls all you ever did wre-e-e-ck meee.” she yells, using her phone as a microphone, hair flying around wildly as she moved up and down, side to side in her seat.

Alex rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his lips. His wife and daughter were too much alike sometimes. He turns the knob himself, sending his daughter a look, silently telling her not to do it again.

“I think it’s crap. Just like how I think you sound like a dying cat whenever you sing.” his son pipes in from the back, a signature Karev smirk plastered on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on his phone.

“Shut up Rory,” she sneers, “Nobody likes you.”

Rory fakes a laugh, looking back to his phone, and then to the scenery outside his window. They passed house after house until they finally reached their destination, John Quincy Adams Elementary School.

“Wait here,” Alex instructs the two kids, who murmurs their we know’s, more focused on the devices in their hand to the words coming out of his mouth.

He makes his way to the ‘log cabin’ that sat at the front of the school, giving a friendly smile to the woman sitting at the sign out table, a crappy fold out plastic table that had definitely seen better days. “Faye and Bridgette Karev.”

The woman slides the forms across the table, handing him a pen. “Sign here and here. I’ll go get them right now.” She stands up from her seat and heads inside to tell the two girls that their father had arrived.

Alex sprawls his messy signature onto the page, huffing before leaning up against the gate. His girls could take anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes to pack up their things. Luckily today didn’t seem to be the latter, because before he knew it, the two youngest Karev’s came bouncing towards him.

“Daddy!” “Daddy!”

The seven year olds gave him a large hug, showing him matching toothless smiles. When Jo and him found out that she was pregnant for a third time, they were overjoyed. They had always wanted more than two kids, but hadn’t really been actively trying. They were excited to expand their family of four into a family of five. When they discovered that she was not carrying not one, but two babies, they were shocked. Jo wasn’t expecting to get pregnant at thirty-nine, much less with twins. Brynn was seven at the time, and Rory was five, so they were worried about how their kids would react when they found out two new babies would be joining the Karev household.

Rory --surprisingly-- took the news really well. He was excited with the fact that he could have baby brothers. (Oh well. Alex Karev only seemed to make girls, Rory being the one exception.)

Brynn was a bit more reluctant. She had heard from her friends at school how much babies cried and stole all the attention. She loved both her parent’s equally, but she was a Daddy’s girl through and through. The thought of losing both of her parent’s focus was terrifying. What if her Daddy called her new siblings names like Bug or Princess? Those were her names, and her names only. She couldn’t let the new babies steal her names.

It took a while, but after multiple long talks and countless acts of reassurance, but Brynn eventually came around to the idea. Before they knew it, Brynn was just as excited for the upcoming babies as they were. Jo was worried throughout her whole pregnancy. Since she was almost forty, she was now considered to have a geriatric pregnancy. Just the word ‘geriatric’ did nothing to soothe any woman’s nerves, but add that to the fact that Jo was a surgeon and knew all the risks of pregnancy, and she was practically a mess the first few months. As it turned out, the twins ended up being her easiest pregnancy, since Brynn decided to make her entrance into the world four weeks early and while she was carrying Rory she had the occasional spotting that terrified her to her core every time, worried that she was miscarrying.

The twins ended up being born at thirty-five weeks, perfectly healthy. The only thing that gave Jo any trouble at all was the severe morning sickness, which turned out to be all day sickness.

But in the end it was way more than worth it. Faye was pretty much Jo reincarnated, just like Brynn. Every aspect about her was exactly like her mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face shape, chin. The only thing that she inherited was the Karev crooked grin, which all of their children had. (She didn’t even have a big Karev head when she was born!)

Bridgette on the other hand, was all Alex, except for the eye color. Between her potty mouth, sassy attitude, and overall appearance, she was the female mini evil-spawn.

The Evil Spawn Jr, title belonged to Rory, who was basically the male version of Bridgette. Same spunk, same mischievous smirk. Jo was always telling him that she didn’t know what she did to deserve three devil’s in her house. Alex always found that one really funny.

“You guys got everything?” he questions the two, who nod their heads up and down enthusiastically, skipping to the car and greeting their siblings.

He drives the twenty-five minutes back to his house, the twins chattering about in the back seat.

“And then Julie showed her her math problems, and I tried to tell her they were wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen!”

“Tommy was sooo annoying. I kept telling him to stop making noises with his pencil, but he just rolled it back and forth so many times!”

Alex laughs under his breath, listening partially to the twins’s conversation. They sounded exactly like how Cristina and Mer used to rant about completely different things to each other, so it never failed to make him think back to the ‘olden days’ as he and Meredith liked to call them.

If someone were to tell cocky, intern Alex that he would be happily married to the love of his life for (legally) fifteen years, father of four kids, and lived in a house that literally had a white picket fence on the outside of it, he would’ve sent them to a long term psychiatric care facility, because there was no way he would ever have that life. (A life he always secretly wanted, tucked into the very tiniest corner of his brain so it could never venture farther than a fleeting thought here or there).

“--We’re here,” he calls out, shutting off the engine as he parks in the driveway, the kids unbuckling their seatbelts and scrambling out of the car, eager to escape the confines of the vehicle and enjoy the peace of their rooms.

Once all five were inside, he watched as the four children parted ways. “Faye, Bridge, you have thirty minutes of reading down here. Ror, you have that history test you need to study for, and Brynn, you know what you need to do.” he says, his two oldest tromping up the stairs as the twins take their place in the living room on separate seats, already engrossed in the books they needed to read as part of their daily homework assignments.

Alex lets out a tired sigh as he flops onto the couch, more than tempted to grab the remote from the side table and flick on ESPN, but knew that he couldn’t. As much as the girls loved reading, they got distracted from books really easily. Loud horns, cheers, and buzzers wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted any work to get done. Instead, he plucks the iPad from the coffee table, picking up where he left off that morning with an online medical article.

Before he knew it, Faye and Bridgette’s timer had rung out and they started on their math homework on the kitchen island, something that they finished with ease. Another trait Alex was grateful the children inherited from Jo, her smarts. (Specifically in math)

“Ugh!” he hears a loud exclaim from upstairs, causing him to look up from the device in his hands and glance towards the steps, half expecting an angry looking Brynn to come storming out at any moment. He huffs, focusing his attention back to the iPad in hand when no mini Jo comes down.

“No! There are no other ways!”

Another loud groan of frustration.

“Son of a butthead! There are NO more ways! None! I don't know how the frick to prove that the freakin angle is congruent!”

Alex debates ignoring it and letting his daughter figure it out on his own, that is until he hears something hit a wall. He quickly makes his way up the stairs and to Brynn’s bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, trying to observe the scene.

Brynn’s normally pristine room had books scattered on the ground, blankets thrown to the side, and an open notebooks posed at an awkward angle on the floor.

Well, at least he knew what hit the wall.

Brynn sat on her bed, literally glaring at her computer screen, partially debating whether or not to throw the expensive device across the room. She didn’t break eye contact, as if she was in a staring contest. Alex wanted to laugh, but he knew a deathly glare would be sent his way if he did.

He knocks on the wood door, sending a questioning glance Brynn’s way as she finally breaks her stare with the inanimate object. “Everything okay?”

The brunette huffs loudly, bouncing back onto the bed as she lets out a groan.

“I hate proofs.” she turns her head to look at her dad, Jo’s signature puppy dog face plastered on her features. He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was crazy how much Brynn looked like Jo. Add that onto the fact that she too shared a love for flannels and jeans, she was pretty much what he imagined a fourteen year old Jo to look like. When he first found out that Brynn was going to be a girl, he said to Jo, ‘I’m gonna need a gun.’

Luckily, that never happened, partially because of the fact that Alex hated guns and Brynn had yet to have a boyfriend. He was more than thankful for that. Especially since he’d seen couples at Brynn’s school canoodling in what they thought was private, even though they were in full view of everyone. He’d be fine with his not-so-little little girl dating when she was twenty-five, no earlier. Any man before that would not be very fortunate.

“I’ll help,” Alex says, taking a spot next to her and Brynn begins to show he dad the problems on her screen, going on about how she was struggling to figure it out.

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

____

Jo Karev was thrilled when Bailey offered to take over her service for the rest of the day. Her husband had gotten off early, and Bailey knew how much of a struggle it was to spend quality time with family as a surgeon.

She thanked Bailey so many times she lost count, all while boasting a large smile. She couldn’t remember the last time both she and Alex had been home before five o’clock. All she wanted was to go home, snuggle with her babies, and spend time with her husband. Well, her babies weren’t technically babies anymore, Brynn was fourteen, Rory was nearly twelve, and the twins were seven, but nevertheless, they would always be her babies. (Who cared if Rory was five foot three and already almost as tall as her? He was still such a mommy’s boy.)

She drove home with a smile on her face, humming along to the songs on the radio. She was so happy. She wanted to take her kids in her arms, and watch action movies on the couch while they pigged out on pizza together.

When she pulls up in the drive she practically bounces up the steps to the house, swinging open the door and dropping her coat carelessly onto the rack. She hadn’t texted Alex to let him know she was coming home early, in hopes to make it a joyful surprise.

Her heart stopped momentarily at the sound of yelling coming from upstairs. Arguments between Brynn and Alex were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were nasty. Alex always felt like crap for days afterward and Brynn stayed quiet, both at home and at school.

“Do the reflexive property again!”

“Dad we already did that!”

“Well do it again!”

“Why?!”

“Do you see any other way to do it?”

“How is that going to help!”

“It just is!”

“Dad, we've done the reflexive property five times now!”

“You think I don’t know that!”

“Say that segment DA is congruent to AD.”

“But-”

“There are literally no other fucking ways to do it! It’s fucking shit! Thats what it is!”

“You act as if I didn’t already freakin know that!”

A loud groan.

“What the fuck even is this one! We’ve managed to do three of them already. Try proving the triangles congruent now. Push random ones, like Side-Angle-Side.”

“This is crap! ‘You don’t have enough proof to show that the blah blah blah.’ Stupid freaking thing! Freaking worthless!”

Jo is unable to suppress her giggle, clasping a hand over her mouth, trying not to make too much noise. It was a relief to know that the current screaming match going on wasn’t an argument.

“They’ve been at that for an hour and a half now.” she hears her son pipe in, drawing her attention to where he sat on the couch.

Jo sets her bag down on the table, greeting her son with a large hug, “Hi bubs.” she mumbles into his hair, feeling his arms wrap back around her. In private, Rory was the biggest cuddler, touchy-feely person you’d ever met, but in front of his friends he tried way too hard to show he was ‘too cool’ for hugging his mom, so Jo took in these moments and held them close to her heart.

“An hour and a half huh?” she chuckles, running a hand through her son’s gelled hair.

Rory snickers, hazel eyes shining with mischief, “Yeah, dad won’t stop cursing and Tissy just keeps screaming alongside him,” he sits back onto the couch. “I’m surprised neither one of them had lost their voice yet.” he smirks his crooked Karev smirk, focusing his attention on the TV where he had opened up netflix, where he was currently binging Bates Motel. The name ‘Tissy’ came from when he was younger and couldn’t for the life of him say either Brynn nor Sissy. It seemed to have stuck all these years, and he was the only one who ever called his older sister that, even ten years later.

She sees him cringe, “I never called you mother right?” he asks, eyes not leaving the screen, where a certain Norman Bates is practically spooning his own mother in the bed, claiming that he couldn’t sleep.

Jo snorts, ruffling his hair fondly, “Definitely not. And if you ever do, you’re dead Ror, hear me?”

Rory rolls his eyes playfully, giving his mom a grin. “I won’t. Promise.”

Jo heads up the stairs, the loud yells continuing to echo through the halls, which she chooses to ignore.

“Dad for the fiftieth freaking time-”

“--What’s going on here?” Jo questions, causing both her husband and daughter to break away their concentration from the computer screen.

Brynn’s face lights up at the sight of her mom standing in the doorway, more than thankful to have someone who actually knew stuff help her with her math. “Mom!” she exclaims, getting up from her place on the bed to give her mother a hug.

“Hey baby. Care to explain to me why the second I walk through the door I'm greeted with screaming?” She questions, eyebrows raised as she sees Alex sheepishly avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the pictures that hung on the wall very interesting.

Brynn smirks, “Well, Dad sucks at math so-”

“--Hey!” Alex interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t done this crap in like thirty years!” He defends himself.

Jo rolls her eyes and smiles of her own gracing her lips as she reaches the bed and takes a look at the problems on the computer. “Proofs?” she asks from confirmation, earning a nod from her husband and daughter.

She hums, “Given: segment CA bisects angle BAD and segment CA bisects BCD. Prove: triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC.” she murmurs to herself.

The brunette laughs when she sees the fact that the pair had put down some form of the ‘reflexive property’ not one, not two, but seven times.

She grins triumphantly as she remembers how to do the problem, the skills seemingly coming back to her after years of them being dormant. “Next statement is angle BCA is congruent to DCA because…” she scrolls through the possible options the box provided, smirking when she found the right one. “An angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”

She watches as an angle pops up on the screen, only encouraging her to continue, “Then… angle DAC is congruent to angle BAC because an angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”

Another angle comes up.

“Finally,” she smirks, glancing to the side of for a brief second to take in the draw dropped stares of the two behind her. Brynn was a whiz at math like her mom, but proofs was something she’d been struggling with since they’d started learning them yesterday. Geometry was no joke. Her and her dad had already gotten almost all of the problems done, but it had taken so long to do a few measly problems that they’d lost track of just how long they'd been sitting in the room, arguing back and forth over different possibilities to try.

“Triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC, reason being Angle-Side-Angle.”

She grins, wiping her hands together as she hits the submit button, a large green check with a correct! floating on the screen, going over the ways to solve the problem.

Alex glares at her. He’d been working on these fucking proofs for so long now, and Jo just comes in and completes it in less than a minute?

“I hate you.” he gruffs, still glaring at both his wife and the computer.

Jo giggles, leaning over and pecking her husband’s lips. “Love you too.”

She begins to walk out of the room, stopping and calling out over her shoulder as she reaches the doorway, “Now you just need to make sure the twins did their homework!”

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arlenianchronicles · 3 years

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Hello 😊 First of all, I want to thank you for everything you do. Every time I look at your drawings it makes my day better. <3 Just out of curiosity, do you have any headcanons for Fëanor's sons personality? I read The Silmarillion a long time ago, so I don't remember if Tolkien described their personality more detail, but I only remember he wrote that Caranthir was "quickest to anger" and that he described Curufin as "being the most like his father" but that's not a very detailed description. XD

I'm not a native speaker so I'm sorry if I wrote something wrong. Have a nice day/night! 😄

Hello anon! Thank you so much for your warm words!! I’m very happy to know that my drawings make your day better, and thank you for your support! <33 And no worries, your English is great! :D

Hmm this is a tough one for me since I hardly think about the Fëanorians loll ^^;; What headcanons I do have for them were made because I was busy developing headcanons for the Nolofinwëans. I’ve posted some of those in various tags, so if anybody’s interested, I can put them in a post like this someday!

But back to the Fëanorians … The only information I have on them is from the Silmarillion (since I haven’t started reading HoME even though I have the books now ldkfskldkls). I suppose I should start from oldest to youngest hahaa But keep in mind that most of these are currently woven with my Nolofinwëan headcanons, aka how the Fëanorians behave towards them. I’ll try not to focus too much on Fingolfin’s fam here XDD

And for the sake of finding names easily, I’m going to bold each of them in case you wanted to scroll to the one you’re most interested in.

Let’s start with the Fëanorians as a family. I imagine that Fëanor doesn't generally give his sons as much affection and attention as they’d like (or perhaps need). However, Curufin is his favourite, so he spends the most time with him and showers him with lots of praise. I also think that their family would be quite the rowdy one given that there are seven brothers stuck in one house ^^;; Nerdanel must get a headache quite often!

Now let’s turn to Maedros. Some of y’all know this already, but for those who don’t, I don’t ship Russingon, so my view of his friendship with Fingon is simply that: a friendship, albeit a close and platonically loving one. Why is Fingon Maedros’ favourite, I’ve wondered? His brothers are wondering that too. I headcanon that Fingon’s company appeals to him because it’s a big contrast to what goes on at home. My version of Fingon is quiet and solemn (as you’ve seen from my art loll), but he’s also kind and gentle and compassionate. I imagine that they’d take walks through the markets, maybe with Finrod or some other, or just sit in the gardens and chat.

Maedros is also adored by his brothers and is seen as the perfect elder sibling. Not to mention the rest of the city might adore him as well, given how handsome and charming he is. I think he’d be able to shoulder the attention very well, and perhaps even enjoy it; he also returns his brothers’ love and cares for them all. But deep down, he looks to Fingon as the shining example of an older brother, a prince who cares for the people, someone perfect who can do no wrong. He admires him a lot. Perhaps that’s where half (or most) of his friendly love comes from. Does Fingon know about this? Beats me loll But if he does, it’d certainly affect him in some way (again, if y’all want those Nolofinwëan headcanons, let me know XDD)

Next is Maglor. What do I do with Maglor? He adores Maedros, yes – all the brothers do loll I remember trying to develop him for my time travel au fanfic, and I wrote him as a perfectionist. I think that’d work here: Fëanor doesn't give him and his music a lot of recognition, so Maglor believes that he must make every song perfect to prove himself and gain validation. I imagine Fëanor’s perfectionist nature rubbed off on Maglor too, which in part leads to this.

Of course, as he goes through the First Age on Beleriand, he becomes disillusioned and loses all that snobby, perfectionist stuff. By the time he’s with Elrond and Elros, he’s humble and solemn, and his songs are quiet and sad. But being with the twins and teaching them how to make music brings back that old spark -- the one that gave his music so much strength and power, etc.

Now for Celegorm. Boy oh boy. I see him as the wildest of the brothers, which could tie into his love for hunting and all. His name means "hasty-riser," so I'd imagine him as quick to be reckless and stubborn and angry etc. He loves Maedros dearly and is most jealous of Fingon, partly because Fingon is Maedros' favourite, and also because Fingon gets lots of affection from Fingolfin. Celegorm wants his father's love (or more of it, since Fëanor loves them in his own way already). He ends up treating Fingon badly, both out of anger and jealousy, and in an attempt to gain his father's approval.

I imagine this is what leads to Celegorm sticking with Curufin most of the time. Curufin is most like Fëanor, so getting his approval is likely second-best to Fëanor's, or something like that. But at the same time, Curufin isn't Fëanor; he has his own issues stemming from a desire for Fëanor's approval, and I imagine his behaviour is more insidious – rather like in the Lay of Leithian, where Curufin is whispering into Celegorm's ear and Celegorm just rolls with it.

Speaking of Curufin, I think of him as the most crafty (scheming-wise alongside metalworking). And probably the most apathetic to others' hurts or concerns. If there's nothing in it for him, and it doesn't directly concern his family, then he doesn't really care. He only truly cares about fulfilling his father's wishes and all.

Then again, I'm sure (or I'd hope) that he cares when Maedros is taken captive, but he'd busy himself with work and getting things done instead of dwelling on it. After all, Maedros must be dead after all this time, and what's the use of fretting over that?

And then we have Caranthir. The quickest to anger, as said in the Silmarillion. I imagine it's because there's not much that's remarkable about him, at least to start with. Nobody pays much attention to him, except perhaps Nerdanel and Maedros. For that reason, he'd draw closer to them, but he’s mostly frustrated with other people and especially himself. But out of all his brothers, I imagine he’s the best at numbers and figuring hahaa

Last are the twins, Amrod and Amras. I wasn't quite sure what to headcanon for them, since they seem to be the most carefree and easygoing of the brothers. I mostly imagine that they'd follow their father and brothers' example, especially with regard to how they treat the Nolofinwëans, but they're not sure about it because they don't think the Nolofinwëans are bad people (as Fëanor would paint them). Tbh I'm still thinking about the twins, and Caranthir for that matter ^^;;

So there we have it! My headcanons for Fëanor's sons. I may come up with more in the future, but this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for messaging me, anon! I hope I answered your question to your satisfaction, and I wish you a good day/night too! <333

#asks #anon ask #lmao i said i hardly think about the feanorians #and look at how much i wrote #then again there's hardly much for some of them #i spent more time thinking on fingolfin's fam and developing them #so they'd have a long post i'm sure #tolkien #silmarillion #headcanons #feanorians #house of feanor #also i was at work today #so i'm sorry i didn't respond sooner!#i ended up working on my reply during my breaks loll #meta

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cas-kingdom · 4 years

Text

A Very Peaky Christmas

A/N: Not altogether too pleased with this, but there’s no harm in posting it nonetheless. Reader is 10- enjoy! <3

Find the OC version of this fic here.

Title: A Very Peaky Christmas

Summary: What’s worse than being sick? Being sick on Christmas Day. Fortunately, the Shelbys are renowned for cheering up the baby of their family.

Words: 2381

Tommy had an internal alarm clock on Christmas morning. He didn’t even think it was purposeful, but years of being jumped on and startled awake as soon as the sun began to rise, with screams of “it’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” ringing in his ears must have had something to do with it.

Now, he always managed to wake up approximately ten minutes before he was ambushed, just so he was able to mentally prepare himself for what was inevitably going to come.

And this Christmas was no different. Nineteen-twenty. A house with two children aged eleven and ten. Not ideal for a man who’d barely returned from the war and hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over four years. Thankfully, the eleven-year-old had enough sense to jump on Arthur instead, who didn’t seem to mind as he was always just as excited for the holiday as the kids. The ten-year-old, however... well. Tommy was most definitely the favourite sibling, there.

Despite his mental preparing, he was quite surprised when the pitter-patter of little feet entering his room and readying to leap weren’t heard, even after fifteen minutes of lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, willing his eyes not to close from utter exhaustion. Of course, he wouldn’t be so puzzled if it were any other instance, but this was his sister. And it was Christmas morning. And he was worried.

So, with a groan as his tired limbs protested to the movement, he slowly sat up and swung his legs around, flinching when the coldness of the wooden floor seeped through his socks. He heaved himself up to his feet and grabbed the woollen blanket at the end of his bed, uncharacteristically sniffing and wrapping it around himself. It was way too early for him, but for his sister, he was quite sure it was way too late.

Thankfully, the intended room was only next door, so it didn’t take him long to walk out of his own room and shuffle towards the other. He could see the flickering candlelight under Arthur’s door, and the hushed talk his ears picked up signified that Finn had already made his attack and the two brothers were waiting for everyone else to wake up so they could all trek down to the living room together to meet with the rest of the family and open the presents.

Quietly, he pulled the handle down and gently pushed the door open, peeking his head in just enough to see a small dark lump under the bed. He rose an eyebrow. So… the monster still slept.

He walked into the room, clutching the blanket around his shoulders, and softly walked towards the bed. Once he was close enough, he reached out and leaned over a little to peer further. A frown creased his forehead and his eyes narrowed the moment they caught sight of the look on your face. It was scrunched terribly together, and your hands were tightly clutching the blankets, so, with a little flutter of concern in his heart, he sat himself down on the side of the bed and placed a hand on your shoulder, shaking it a little. “Y/N? Sweetheart?” he gently called out. A second later he was greeted by an exhausted face with drooping eyes and a forehead sheening with sweat. Concern immediately filled him and he shifted, dropping his hands and consequently the blanket in favour of leaning over to look closer at you. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said quietly. “Are you okay?”

You groaned pitifully. “Feel sick,” you mumbled, lifting your arms in clear askance. He had no trouble complying and swiftly set about picking you up and cradling you on his lap. His hand rested on your forehead as you snuggled up against his chest, and he frowned at the heat radiating from your skin.

“You’ve got a little fever,” he told you.

You whined. “But it’s Christmas, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your tousled hair. “I know,” he said, “but that’s fine. We can still have a good day, alright? At least it saves me from being jumped on at a godawful hour of the morning.” His smile grew as a little knowing smirk appeared on your lips, and you sniffed, blinking tiredly. Of all the days to be sick, he couldn’t help but think, it had to be Christmas day, didn’t it? As much as he dreaded being woken up in the manner specific to the day, there was always an ounce of happiness that accompanied it. Having two little children in the house – though he was sure it was probably dwindling down to one, now – who believed in Santa Clause and his reindeer and anticipated each day as any little child did was absolutely magical, especially to a family affected by the hardships of the war and all the destruction it had brought along with it, both mental and physical.

The door creaking as it opened caused the both of you to turn your heads towards it. Finn immediately leaped into the room while Arthur merely peeked his head through the crack. “What’s this then, eh? Almost seven in the morning and you’re still in bed?”

Tommy grimaced when Finn jumped onto the bed, nattering on excitedly about the presents he was hoping to receive once they all trooped downstairs. Tommy glanced over his shoulder and removed a hand from around you to gently grasp his younger brother’s bouncing form. “Oi,” he said, “oi! Calm down, Finn. Your sister’s sick.”

He stopped jumping immediately and a look of genuine concern crossed his little face. “But- but it’s Christmas! She can’t be sick on Christmas!”

“I can’t help it, dumb dumb,” you grumbled, leaning over Tommy’s arm and pushing at Finn’s shoulder. The man rolled his eyes before standing to his feet, taking you with him and perching you on his hip the moment Finn made to shove back.

“She okay?” Arthur asked as he walked towards him. “You okay, sweet girl?” He reached a hand over to brush a few straggles of hair from your hot forehead and stroked a thumb across your cheek. You nodded with a yawn before resting back against your brother, who waited for Finn and Arthur to join him before moving to walk down the stairs.

As expected, Polly was curled up in her night robe on the couch in the living room, sipping daintily on a cup of hot coffee, one of John’s children cuddled up next to her. The other three were sat around the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, bouncing on their knees and getting curious hands batted away by John from the presents underneath the greenery. As Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs, Ada was just walking out of the kitchen with her own mug, and she smiled widely when she saw both her younger siblings, reaching a hand out for Finn and rushing with him into the living room as Arthur and Tommy followed slowly behind, you in the latter’s arms.

“Merry fucking Christmas!” Arthur laughed while he walked into the room, throwing his arms out and immediately becoming assaulted by John’s kids. Tommy followed in a little quieter, keeping his arms locked around you and making his way immediately over to Polly.

“Hey, Katie,” he said softly, nudging his niece next to Polly, “why don’t you start setting out the presents in piles for your siblings and Finn and Y/N, eh?” Thankfully, she nodded happily, leaping off the seat and giving him room to sit down and arrange you comfortably on his lap. Polly kept watchful eyes on the both of you.

“Y/N, darling,” she said after a while of looking thoughtfully at you, “you do know it’s Christmas, yes?”

She smiled softly at your little nod and Tommy bent his head to press a kiss to your hot cheek. “She’s not feeling it this morning. Just a little fever, I think,” he told her, and she rose both eyebrows.

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that. First time in ten years I haven’t seen you bouncing around the place come Christmas morning. If I’d have known you weren’t well, I wouldn’t have gotten up so early.” A teasing glint sparkled in her eye as she reached over to gently tickle you under your chin, and you smiled, cuddling closer into your brother’s chest. She took another drink from her mug before calling out to silence the loud and excited chatter which had begun to echo around the room. “Alright, children! I’m talking to you, too, John!” Tommy chuckled at the small giggle that produced from you, leaning back in the chair. Your little arms entwined around his torso and he placed one hand on the back of your head while the other went to rub between your shoulders.

“Here, Y/N.” He looked up at his niece, who was holding out a brown parcel. “It’s from my dad.”

“There we go, little one,” Tommy said, “first present of Christmas. Thank you, Katie.” He took the parcel from the little girl and rearranged you on his lap so you were able to open it while still leaning against his chest. He glanced over at John, who was busy helping the youngest of his children not wreck the room with wrapping paper. He and his brothers typically shared with each other what they were buying for their youngest two, but now that he thought about it, John had kept his secret this year. Frowning, yet not in concern – at least he hoped. You could never be too sure with John Shelby – he craned his head a little to watch you open the box.

“Oi,” he heard John from across the room, “fucking sit down and let’s watch Y/N open her present, yeah? Come on, kids. Sit.”

You reached up to rub your eyes and unconsciously fell back against Tommy’s chest, who had since slumped down in his chair. He let out a little noise as you did so, but quickly adjusted to the new seating arrangement, tucking your head under his chin and loosely wrapping his arms around you. “What-” He glanced down as the tiny exclamation left your lips. “John,” you said confusedly, “I’m not a dog!”

John laughed and stood to his feet. “You sure, pup?” He ruffled your hair and you pushed his hand away before sneezing.

Ada craned her neck to see. “Seriously?” she asked with a frown. “You bought her a dog collar for Christmas? I mean, Finn would’ve been fine with one of those, but- hey! Don’t fucking push your sister, you little shit!” She shoved her younger brother over in irritation, despite the grin on her face.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together and he took the small black collar out of your hands. A sick sort of feeling settled in his stomach and he turned – now concerned – blue eyes up at his brother. He wouldn’t… would he? “John,” he started, in the firmest tone possible.

John nodded, a toothy grin gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

His stare darkened. “You do know you don’t live in this house anymore, right?”

“’Course.”

“And that this house, that you don’t live in, belongs to me? And your aunt?” He nodded towards Polly, who was sipping her tea quietly on her side of the couch. A double-take was needed entirely when he noticed she was smiling, and he realised with a flutter of butterflies in his chest that she was in on it. He rolled his eyes and tossed the collar across the couch with a huff before dragging both hands down his face. “We’re not having a fucking dog in this house.”

Your eyes lit up like the lights on the Christmas tree. “A dog? We’re getting a dog?”

“Hell yeah, we are!” John said, clapping his hands and immediately setting his children off into excited giggles. “Curly knows a man whose dog had pups a few weeks ago, and he’s bringing them ‘round later today for you to pick one out.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Head in his hands, Tommy groaned.

“Never had a dog in my life!” Arthur said with a grin before swinging one of his nieces up and onto his shoulders. He chuckled at Tommy’s utterly depleted look. “Oh, come off it, Tom. Look! Look at our little sister! She’s got a fever yet she’s still all smiles!”

You giggled at his words. True, you still felt hot and completely tired, but the prospect of introducing a puppy into the family was absolutely amazing for any child. You were, of course, no different. The only reason you’d never had a dog before could be thinned down to one word: Tommy.

You turned around in said man’s lap, giggling madly. “It’s just a puppy, Tom.”

He peeked at you through the small gap between two of his fingers. “A puppy I’m gonna end up looking after.”

“Oh, shut it, you,” Polly said, kicking his leg. “I live here, too, you know, and I agreed to it. I told John not to tell you because I knew you’d say no.”

“And what’s to stop me from saying no now?” Tommy asked, dropping his hands and raising an eyebrow at his aunt.

Polly tutted. She leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her nephew’s forehead, and then stood up to pour herself another drink. “That little girl’s face,” she told him simply.

Tommy turned his attention to you, and the moment he saw you, teary-eyed and snotty-nosed but still wearing a toothy smile and chatting excitedly to John’s kids and Finn, he sighed in defeat and gently grabbed you, pulling you towards him in a hug. “You’re picking up its shit and giving it its baths and taking it for its walks, alright? I don’t want a thing to do with it, Y/N.”

You nodded against his chest. “Promise.”

“I give him two days,” Ada whispered to Polly as she passed, “and he’ll be all over that puppy like it’s his baby.”

Of course, Tommy would never admit that, two days later, his sister’s words had come to pass, but… well. The puppy was pretty adorable.

Peaky Masterpost

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kob131 · 3 years

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True Name: Uther Pendragon Class: Saber Gender: Male Alignment: Lawful Good (believes he is Lawful Neutral) Parameter: Strength: B Endurance: A Agility: C Mana: E Luck: C NP: B+

History: Uther was born as the youngest of three brothers, himself, the Black Dragon Vortigern and the Paranoid Prince Ambrousis. After their father Constantine was died, the eldest son Ambrousis took the throne at the young age of 14. Due to an innate paranoia, the treachery of royal politics and persistent rumors of his father having been poisoned, Ambrousis sought to weed out all potential traitors and dangers to himself In his madness, he killed civilians for speaking unfavorably and nobles for dealing with other nations.

Unable to tolerate his eldest brother’s actions, Uther, alongside the middle child Vortigern, staged a rebellion against Ambrousis, uniting several lords and knights across Britan to wage war against his enthroned and madden kin. Through numerous bloody battles, he forced Ambrousis to met his demise by his own hand, with no small amount of grief and sadness. Soon after, the lords of the land agreed to name him King, something that would come to frustrate his last living brother.

Throughout his reign, he came into conflict with his neighbors/arch enemies the Saxxons. The two kingdoms went to war with each other many, many times, almost always with Uther just barely managing to edge a victory. During these many wars, he was always noted to be seen wandering near lakeside, gazing wistfully out upon the water. One night, on the last of his many walks to the lakes of the land, returned with two twin newborns in hand, girls who he would name Morgan and Morgause and claim as his children. No one is quite certain who the mother of these two was...

Later in life, as the strain of his life came to haunt him, he began to seek an heir to which take his throne upon his increasingly likely death. However, due to lacking a wife and having only daughters who could not be accepted by his kingdom, he looked to his old and trusted friend Merlin. Together, they hatched a plan for Uther to impregnate the lovely Lady Igraine with the king impersonating her lover through Merlin’s magic. Alas, though the child was blessed with the blood of a dragon, it was also yet another daughter, named Arturia. Distraught and despondent, Uther gave up his quest for a successor and left the child in Merlin’s care.

This turn of events alongside the death of his legitimate child Morgause left Uther in the worst of health. His body deteriorated day after day, for years on end until one day, seven years after those events, he died due to a combination of sickness and poison by his lifelong enemies....*

Personality: Quite unlike his successor, Uther is open and friendly man who ruled through trust and familiarity, while not being the best at administration. He warms the hearts of both his retainers and his people with his honesty and openness. Alas, this warmth also lends itself to a certain...fiery temperament in battle.

A man tried to uphold honor and dignity during his life, helping define the code of honor that many among the succeeding generation would uphold as their standard. That said, he could not always uphold it as the conception of his youngest child will tell you.

Below his surface though, he holds a great many regrets. He laments his killing of his brother, his inability to stop the tyranny of his other sibling, his failure to properly raise the children under his care, his shame at the manipulation of Igraine born from a moment’s weakness and lust and his perceived abandonment of his youngest child. Because of this, he feels rather uncomfortable around most British servants, especially those from his era as it reminds him of his failures. Though, he still trusts and respects Merlin (even holding the distinction of being one of the few people able to catch the flower magus off guard).

He also regrets not having tried to defy the laws of inheritness during his time, as he sees this inaction having caused the many conflicts and pain of his successors.

Noble Phantasm:

Flame Sword of the Dragon King: Caliburn Classification: Anti-Personnel Rank: B+

Born from the legends that he himself wielded Caliburn before lodging it in it’s infamous stone as well as the misconception that he himself had dragon blood- Uther wields an altered version of Caliburn of similar quality to it’s true self. In battle, he can ignite the sword with dragonfire and enhance it’s power before releasing it in an inferno the swallows the opponent. The Noble Phantasm itself is not the sword but rather the technique and skill that Uther uses when swinging the ignited sword.

Relationships:

Merlin

Still views him as a trusted advisor and friend. Wishes he would not inform him of his daughters’ sex life. Holds the distinction of being one of the few people to catch Merlin off guard.

“Ah, Merlin. My old friend! You are truly a sight for these sore eyes... Would I like to hear about my child? ... I know you better than to answer yes.”

Arturia Pendragon

A father in name only, he believes. He feels nothing but shame and remorse upon seeing her, believing he does not deserve to be considered among her family. This despite Arturia’s admiration of his own rule.

“... Of course, she is here. The noble King of Knights who did what I could not... No Master, I do not wish to speak with her. I had that chance long ago...”

Arthur Pendragon

Is VERY confused why he has a look alike calling him ‘Father.’ While accepting of the man, Uther can’t help but feel bitter about how things seemed to have worked out for his other self.

“Master? Why is that lad giving me such a strange look? ... Arthur Pendragon? My son from another world? ... *sigh* Of course I find an heir I could truly pass on to NOW of all times...”

Lancelot

Is quite confused (then amused) that his daughter’s greatest knight is a Frenchman. Uther shares a kinship with him as a fellow knight ashamed of his past. Helps that Lancelot is the first Servant he meets upon arriving at Chaldea.

“Ah sir Lancelot! I was wondering if you and I could partake in a friendly spar sometime soon! Yes yes, I shall try to keep from getting too excited like last time.”

The Orkney Siblings (Gawain, Agravain, Gareth, Garehis)

Uther feels deeply conflicted with the siblings, knowing that they are the children of his one surviving child and yet his own failings as father caused them harm indirectly. He is, however, forced to put these feelings aside as the knights all deeply admire and adore him, having been raised on stories of his heroics. Especially the eldest Gawain.

(Gawain) “Oh, you are...yes, Gawain. Morgan’s eldest son. I shall take my leave. ... Wait, You want me to stay? You want to know about my battles? Haha, I-I don’t know what to say.”

(Gareth) “Oh, young Gareth. What a surprise, what brings you to me? ... A jousting battle? Young lady, do I appear to be of the Lancer Class in any manner? ... Now it’s a sparring match?!”

Vortigern

The mere sight of his elder brother deeply enrages Uther. The pain of his brother Ambrousis’ death dredged up at the sight of the sibling he believes he should have slain, there is no chance that Uther will ever cooperate with Vortigern.

“VORTIGERN! Damn you to hell, you inhuman tyrant!”

Morgan Le Fay Pendragon

To say the sight of his eldest daughter brings Uther pain would be nothing if not an understatement. Pressured by the constant wars and responsibilities as king, along with no partner to help him in raising a family, he could never truly invest himself into Morgan’s life as he wished to. Because of this, the death of her sister and even his own, Morgan walked a path of sacrifice and failure, transforming her into the brutal witch she is known as. All because, in Uther’s eyes, he could not comfort her.

“Morgan, oh Morgan. You have suffered so much, despite never wishing for the throne yourself. Seeking it out for Morgause and myself... Forgive your fool of a father, for he could not save you from this.”

Mordred

He did not recognize her as his kin at first but greatly enjoyed her company. Upon learning of her full heritage, Uther resolved himself to make up for his failures with her parents and help guide her to a better life.

“Ah, Mordred. Come, come. We have much to talk about. Yes yes, I know you feel as though my talks are long winded and boring. But I ask of you: will you allow this old man to indulge talking to his grandchild? Ha ha, no need to blush, I should be thanking you after all.”

*Sorry to any Arthurian myth fans but holy fuck, not only is Fate’s iteration of the Round Table Myth really hard to faithfully adapt the original myth- The myth ITSELF gets really patchy when not directly concerning Arthur.

Like, the actual villain of early Uther’s life was VORTIGERN, who was NOT his brother. That doesn’t line up with Fate so I had to make the good guy Ambrousis a bad guy. And THEN it turns out that Uther fucked and married Igraine BEFORE Arthur which again doesn’t match up to Fate. So had to change the mother of Morgan and Morgause to someone else just for this to make sense.

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thethistlegirlwrites · 3 years

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OC Enneagram types!

@nade2308 I haven't been able to stop thinking about doing this since the Enneagram conversation came up in the Discord, so here it is! My seven main characters (sorry, Rowan, I'm not confident enough to type a tree just yet) and their Enneagram types, plus a short explanation and some quotes about their basic type and wing!

Robin - 4w3 As a basic type of a 4, Robin sees himself as fundamentally different from other people. He isn't sure how to fit into the world, since his dual fae-human nature leaves him feeling on the outside of all of it. He feels broken and incomplete, and keeps trying to create a place that he fits. The 4 tendency to imagine a world where they can belong led him to idealize the hunter world and want to join it like his father, despite his grandfather's warnings against it. The 3 side of his personality is also involved in the effort to fit in, to make himself into an acceptable version that people will like. “Fours feel that they are unlike other human beings, and consequently, that no one can understand them or love them adequately. They often see themselves as uniquely talented, possessing special, one-of-a-kind gifts, but also as uniquely disadvantaged or flawed. More than any other type, Fours are acutely aware of and focused on their personal differences and deficiencies...Healthy Fours are willing to reveal highly personal and potentially shameful things about themselves because they are determined to understand the truth of their experience—so that they can discover who they are and come to terms with their emotional history. This ability also enables Fours to endure suffering with a quiet strength. Their familiarity with their own darker nature makes it easier for them to process painful experiences that might overwhelm other types.” “Threes learn to perform in ways that will garner them praise and positive attention.” John - 6w5 John is deeply tied to his roots, following the family tradition of becoming a hunter with no question of whether or not that was what he wanted to do. To him, duty is the highest thing to seek after, and individual personal goals must always be secondary to what has to be done. the 5 side of his identity comes into play in his work; John feels a sense of pride in working from the shadows, knowing about vampires but hiding that secret from the larger world for its own protection. Like his great-grandfather, he's the sort of person who seeks out a person to be devoted to. Until his brother died, Gabe was the tethering force in John's life. After his death, John drifted away from his home, searching for a new connection, but struggling to find it. “Sixes are the most loyal to their friends and to their beliefs. They will “go down with the ship” and hang on to relationships of all kinds far longer than most other types.”Wanting to feel that there is something solid and clear-cut in their lives, they can become attached to explanations or positions that seem to explain their situation. Once they establish a trustworthy belief, they do not easily question it, nor do they want others to do so. The same is true for individuals in a Six’s life: once Sixes feel they can trust someone, they go to great lengths to maintain connections with the person who acts as a sounding board, a mentor, or a regulator for the Six’s emotional reactions and behavior.” “Investigating "unknown territory"—knowing something that others do not know, or creating something that no one has ever experienced—allows Fives to have a niche for themselves that no one else occupies.” Kira - 5w4 Knowing she would struggle to fit into normal society because of her deafness, Kira seeks to make herself important to others by making discoveries and creating new things. She often called on the 5 tendency to rely on their knowledge and curiosity in her classes, and made a name for herself as the smart girl, not just the Deaf girl. Her passion for strange and new fields of study allowed her to keep an open mind when she first learned of the existence of vampires, and also helped her delve deeply into the lore surrounding them when she became a vigilante hunter. As she's grown, Kira has become more in touch with the 4 side of herself as well, accepting her uniqueness and seeing that as a gift. “Behind Fives’ relentless pursuit of knowledge are deep insecurities about their ability to function successfully in the world. Fives “take a step back” into their minds where they feel more capable. Their belief is that from the safety of their minds they will eventually figure out how to do things—and one day rejoin the world. Fives are not interested in exploring what is already familiar and well-established; rather, their attention is drawn to the unusual, the overlooked, the secret, the occult, the bizarre, the fantastic, the “unthinkable.” ” “Fours maintain their identity by seeing themselves as fundamentally different from others.” Cody - 2w3 Cody is at heart a giver. He grew up being the friend Robin needed, and that was such a formative part of his identity that when Robin left Rowan House to become a hunter, Cody felt adrift. As the youngest child of his family, he'd relied on his friendship with Robin as an outlet for his need to be useful and needed, since his siblings didn't seem to want the nurturing. Since then, he's channeled that into his work, where he enjoys helping people find the information or books or other help that they need at the library. While he's very selfless, Cody is also ambitious, deeply driven to create stories that he can share with the world. His drive to become a published, successful author is the main evidence of his 3 wing. "Being generous and going out of their way for others makes Twos feel that theirs is the richest, most meaningful way to live. The love and concern they feel—and the genuine good they do—warms their hearts and makes them feel worthwhile. Twos are most interested in what they feel to be the “really, really good” things in life—love, closeness, sharing, family, and friendship. Healthy Twos are the embodiment of “the good parent”: someone who sees [people] as they are, understands them with immense compassion, helps and encourages with infinite patience, and is always willing to lend a hand—while knowing precisely how and when to let go." "Threes are often successful and well liked because, of all the types, they most believe in themselves and in developing their talents and capacities. Threes want to make sure their lives are a success, however that is defined by their family, their culture, and their social sphere. No matter how success is defined, Threes will try to become somebody noteworthy in their family and their community." Maira - 9w8 Maira's basic 9 type has allowed her to navigate her world by finding the paths of lesser resistance. She's wise enough to know when to back down and seek another route to her goal, and this has gotten her far in her world. People respect her shrewd 'chess match' movements, but also like her as a person since she has managed to maintain a reputation of being even-handed, understanding, and willing to seek negotiated solutions. But making the mistake of thinking Maira is a pushover is a dangerous one. Her 8 side is strongest when she encounters an injustice or cruelty. Maira has her breaking point, and woe to the person who pushes her over it. "Peacemakers are the skilled mediators and counsellors in a group of friends or coworkers. They work hard behind the scenes in order to keep the group harmony steady and flowing. As children, they knew how to get along with each classmate, making them a great addition to any group project. They can easily see the many different sides to an issue and tend not to jump to conclusions quickly, if at all. Complacent and humble, Peacemakers are stable and gentle, willing to go the extra mile to avoid rocking the boat. Soft-spoken yet firm in their personal stances, they make an effort to neutralize tension and restore group harmony." "Eights have enormous willpower and vitality, and they feel most alive when they are exercising these capacities in the world. They use their abundant energy to effect changes in their environment—to “leave their mark" on it—but also to keep the environment, and especially other people, from hurting them and those they care about. At an early age, Eights understand that this requires strength, will, persistence, and endurance—qualities that they develop in themselves and which they look for in others." Emma - 5w6 Emma's 5 tendency to acquire esoteric knowledge is one of the reasons she's risen so rapidly in vampire society since her turning. She's learned a great deal about herself and her fellow vampires, and she uses that knowledge to her advantage. She's well known for being not only on the cutting edge of knowing what's happening in the city, but for being able to analyze that information and interpret what it will mean for the vampire community and the wider city population. Her 6 side is evident in her formation of a coven that accepts vampires who were not turned by its own members, giving outcasts or vampires who broke free from their sires like her a place of safety. "Fives think, “I am going to find something that I can do really well, and then I will be able to meet the challenges of life.” They therefore develop an intense focus on whatever they can master and feel secure about. Depending on their intelligence and the resources available to them, they focus intensely on mastering something that has captured their interest. Much of their time gets spent "collecting" and developing ideas and skills they believe will make them feel confident and prepared. They want to retain everything that they have learned and “carry it around in their heads.” " "Sixes rely on structures, allies, beliefs, and supports outside themselves for guidance to survive. If suitable structures do not exist, they will help create and maintain them." Arion - 7w8 Arion is perhaps the poster child of the dangerous side of the 7 type. A hedonistic pleasure seeker, he's driven by filling his life with whatever he enjoys. He has acquired a wide range of talents and interests. But his vampire bloodthirst is his most intense drive. Unlike some vampires who control and manage their impulses, Arion embraces them. He revels in the pleasure of drinking real blood, and sees nothing wrong with seeking it out. His 8 side makes him truly dangerous, because in addition to his craving for a life of comfort and ease, he has a powerful drive to do whatever it takes to attain that goal. While he is fully capable of luxuriating in his pleasures, he is also willing to temporarily put them aside in pursuit of one he believes will be even greater." "Sevens are enthusiastic about almost everything that catches their attention. They approach life with curiosity, optimism, and a sense of adventure, like “kids in a candy store” who look at the world in wide-eyed, rapt anticipation of all the good things they are about to experience. They are bold and vivacious, pursuing what they want in life with a cheerful determination. Sevens are compelled to stay on the go, moving from one experience to the next, searching for more stimulation." "Eights do not want to be controlled or to allow others to have power over them. Much of their behavior is involved with making sure that they retain and increase whatever power they have for as long as possible. They often refuse to “give in” to social convention, and they can defy fear, shame, and concern about the consequences of their actions. Although they are usually aware of what people think of them, they do not let the opinions of others sway them. They go about their business with a steely determination that can be awe inspiring, even intimidating to others."

Taglist: @nade2308 @cmvorra @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @catwingsathena @asloudasalone @anguishmacgyver @flowing-river24 @myhusbandsasemni @floh673 @teddythecat1234 @bkworm4life4 @viawrites-andacts @amarilloskies

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist for Magic & Silver stuff, just let me know! (Type description references taken from https://www.enneagraminstitute.com and https://www.truity.com/enneagram/9-types-enneagram)

#magic & silver #my ocs #robin #angus robinson #john stoker #kira burke #maira lawson #cody dayton #emma cole #arion #enneagram

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aelwynrights · 4 years

Text

the succession of stories

read on ao3 here

the sounds of war ring out through castle candy. the queen does not move from her throne. the knights stay standing at attention in the halls and the courtyard, frozen along the wall. the servants do not look up from their duties as shouts echo through the halls.

it is not real, of course. there has not been war in candia for years. the children, though, are fascinated with the subject, fueled by stories of their ancestors and tapestries depicting their heroism. they tumble down the corridors, wooden swords at their sides. they are cousins, siblings, but today they are the heroes of old, six out of seven figures whose statues line the courtyard proudly. the oldest carries a sword and a wooden horn that is a smaller version of the one on his mother’s hip. the youngest is falling behind, a stick representing a crossbow in hand as he pumps six-year-old legs that cannot keep up with his companions. one of them, in makeshift robes, notices and nudges his brother.

“sir theobald, pick up count liam! we have to escape!” the young lapin holds out one hand, pretends that his magic is what lets the little knight lift the younger onto his back.

behind them, the two girls - cousins, though they are so close in age their mothers have given up on convincing them that they are not twins - argue, both holding one end of a thin play sword. “i want to be princess jet!” one of them squeals, already looking the part with makeshift war paint across her cheeks.

the other shakes her head firmly, thrusting an unstrung bow at the other. “i get to be jet this time! you’re ruby! you can do magic if you’re ruby!”

“i’m older, so i say you’re ruby!”

the younger concedes and lets go of the sword finally, shooting a fake arrow at the imaginary enemies behind them. “fine, let’s go!”

in front, the play king amethar stops before a junction, holds up his hand. “sir theobald, lapin, princesses, i believe we may have an ally among us.”

the ally comes in the form of an older brother, who smiles as he sees their weapons and wartime stances. even so, he does not bring good news - he shoots a glance at his younger brother and says, “at risk of disturbing the heroes of candia, mother wants to see you, pollux.”

“i’m not pollux, i’m lapin!” his brother says, costume robes that pool on the floor wrapped around him.

castor indulges. “fine, little lapin, but the lady melia wishes to hear your counsel, dear chancellor.”

the others sigh as little lapin salutes them and runs off to find his mother, sending one last magical wave at them as he runs down the corridor.

“castor, will you play with us?” one of the girls pleads, the little princess jet with her sword sheathed for once. “we need a sir cumulous.”

castor glances around and drops his voice to a whisper, conspiratorially for his young cousins. “but princess jet, of course! i simply needed to conceal my identity from whoever may be listening.”

there is a cheer, and the little theobald keeps time with castor, his favorite older cousin, now the monk of stories, leading them down the hallway and through doorways, hiding up against the wall as servants pass, giving them a wink as he indulges his younger cousins. the knights along the way pretend to be fructeran guards that do not see their stealth; the maids who pass are happy to be called dairian allies as the learned cumulous practices his history for the game.

“and then we arrive at the great stone candy mountains,” he whispers outside the throne room, “and we have an audience with the queen.”

the doors fly open as the queen glances up from her throne, smiling as her son and his younger sister arrive with their cousins behind them, their oldest cousin castor giving her a play-along grin. “ah, i see we have the great candian heroes here to see me!” she exclaims. “to what do i owe the honor?”

her son, who is not her son at this moment but is instead king amethar of days of old, kneels in front of her. “my lady, we ask for free passage through your hall to the candy fields beyond.”

“and of course you shall have it,” she replied benevolently, stroking her son’s hair. “you are, of course, the heroes of candia.”

“not yet, mama!” the little princess ruby pipes up. “right now we are on the run from the empire.”

her mother raised an eyebrow and beckoned her daughter to her, lifting her onto her lap. “someone has been paying attention in her history lessons,” she said, then glanced at her nephew who stood to the side, the closest to adult supervision they had. “or perhaps castor has been teaching you from his books?”

“he’s not castor!” protested the little knight. “he’s cumulous rocks.”

“yeah!” said the little count liam, still on theobald’s back.

“well, cumulous, i give you leave to take the heroes through my land and beyond, and i trust that the king amethar will be protected.” the queen let her daughter hop back off and join her cousin, already whispering to each other conspiratorially. “look after the princesses, too, yes?”

castor bowed to his aunt. “of course, your highness. your wish is my command.”

the queen nodded and watched as the group darted out of the room, castor letting the pretend princesses hang off his arms as they walked, squealing with glee when he lifted them up and let them swing themselves back off. the prince already walked like the king he was pretending to be, and the imaginary crossbow bolts that shot from the littlest one’s toy took down enemies ahead of them as he clung to his older brother’s back.

oh, that the real story could be so simple, thought the queen as they left, that their enemies could have been imaginary and their weapons blunted. the future had been kind to the heroes of old, had let them be honored even when they were disgraced in their own time, but even time could not erase the losses that history had written.

she glanced at the tapestry that hung behind her: a weaving of her grandmother on the throne, scepter in one hand, the crown gleaming over furrowed brows and sad eyes. there were other depictions of her grandmother throughout the castle, and a statue of her in the courtyard, but those always showed younger woman, fighting alongside her father and her sister, brave in the face of accusations and danger, and never alone. they didn’t ever show the afterwards, when she stood alone for the first time, the promises she had once made to her sister sugar-dust in the air, and her sister not by her side, but buried in a peppermint wood coffin.

perhaps, though, with the children, the story would be different. perhaps in their version, they would stand in victory, without the tragedy of their ancestors weighing them down, with not one loss. perhaps the next generation could rewrite their mistakes, learn from them, avoid the cycle of more loss. perhaps there was a chance that someday, the children of the castle would pretend to be heroes of peace.

she hopes that they will only ever face imaginary foes.

#dimension 20 #a crown of candy #acoc #my writing!#a crown of candy spoilers #acoc spoilers #can you tell i wish i had grown up in a castle #king amethar rocks #sir theobald gumbar #chancellor lapin cadbury #princess ruby rocks #princess jet rocks #count liam wilhemina #cotton candy temple cotton candy monk #cumulous rocks

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karenjournaling · 3 years

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My Life as a Reader

Karen Echard Boyle

Introduction

The first books I remember as a child sre The Gingerbread Man and Pinocchio. Later, I read about Danny Dunn, Nancy Drew and Cherry Ames. Then in college, when I became an English major, I read Moby Dick and James Joyce’s Ulysses.

I learned to love great literature, but I also became a feminist, a vegetarian, a war protester, and a mother because of the books I read. When I became a mother, books taught me how to raise my three sons, what to feed them and what to read to them. Completing a Masters degree with a thesis on Elizabeth Gaskell and a PhD with a dissertation on Willa Cather taught me to be a literary scholar. But as a working class girl unprepared for college, I may never have finished the PhD, without learning writing practice techniques from Natalie Goldberg and Julia Cameron.

This memoir is an homage to the books in my life, written in gratitude for the possibilities opening up for me because of books. I write about important moments in my life, with reference to books that guided me along the way. I don’t want to write only about the books like a literary scholar, and I don’t want to assume that because I read a book, my life immediately changed. Instead, I hope this memoir pinpoints actions that I took because of reading.

Chapter 1: Cautionary Tales

“”Little Golden Books were designed as impulse buy items that parents would purchase not because an authority had praised them but because the books were affordable, visually appealing, and ready at hand” (57-58). Leonard C. Marcus in Golden Legacy (NY: Golden Books, 2007.

My parents knew nothing about books recommended by authorities, but they bought the six by eight inch books with the golden tape down the spine, available in grocery stores. These are the first books I remember, one called The Gingerbread Man and one a Walt Disney version of Pinocchio. Leonard C. Marcus says these books were meant to teach a lesson: bad things happen to children who don’t follow the rules (96). I was a child who worked hard to follow the rules. Yet I felt encouraged by these books to ignore the adults, run away and see the world. I loved that the Gngerbread Man repeated over and over, “You can’t catch me. I’m the Gingerbread Man.”

Pinocchio, the wooden puppet, also ran away and was swallowed by a whale. Pinocchio was returned home and given another chance, but the Gingerbread Man was eaten by a fox. Cautionary tales, yes, but didn’t these heroes also encourage defiance, adventure and the possibility that you could survive on your own wits?

Maybe the cautionary tales made me feel secure in the world of rules, but books also helped me imagine a life different than the one my parents provided. In 1949, I was born in Santa Cruz, California. My eighteen year old mother stayed at home while my twenty-three year old dad worked at a gas station. After marrying in Alliance, Ohio in 1947, my parents drove their 1939 Chevy to California, joining my dad’s two older brothers. All were World War Two vereterans on the west coast to find better jobs than in Ohio. While there they each had their first child.

My parents always told me that they returned to Ohio. when I was six months old because they were homesick and wanted to show me off to relatives back home, but dad did not get a job at Kaiser Steel like his older brother did, and my birth sent my mother into depression. My dad asked his boss’s wife to care for me for three weeks because mom seemed unaware of my existence. A picture of her gazing at me, a two month old infant cradled lovingly in her arms, indicates that she did recover and care for me.

Although they were in California with my dad,s older brothers, my parents, each the youngest of seven children, must have felt stranded three thousand miles from home, So when they got their income tax return in April 1950, they drove back to Ohio. By the end of 1951, my only sibling, Kathy, was born and six months later, we moved into the two story house at 33 W. Woodland in Columbiana, Ohio, a town of five thousand, twenty miles south of Youngstown.

My cousin told me that after Kathy’s birth, mom cried and read the Bible a lot. I was too young to notice but maybe mom was depressed as she had been after my birth. What I remember most is the blue steel car with rubber pedals and tires, that I received for my second birthday. My early memories of Kathy involve keeping her from interfering with what I wanted to do.

I had my own bedroom at the top of the stairs, but no privacy because the stairs opened into my room, providing the entrance to my sister’s room. Then the bathroom and my parents’ room had doorways off Kathy’s bedroom. I lined up stuffed animals and dolls on chairs facing a chalkboard, so. I could pretend to be a teacher. My sister might start out as a teacher, but she preferred more action, so she regularly shot her stuffed animals with a cap gun and threw them in the closet to punish them for not listening in class.

When Kathy was four and I was six, the boy across the street from us got the first swing set in. The neighborhood. Johnnie and I pushed back and forth, sitting on the double swing, flying much higher than we were allowed. When Kathy walked in front of the swing, the metal seat sliced right into her face. Blood spurted out of the bridge of her nose, like a tiny fountain. Reprimanded for not watching out for my sister, I understood for the first time that I was supposed to watch out for her.

Mostly, I saw myself as protecting my time and space from Kathy. In my desk drawer, I kept a treasured Viewmaster, a red plastic binocular-like toy, that you held up to your face to gaze at technicolor, two dimensional images. You could change the circular cardboard discs, in order to see colored slides of places like Disney Land or the Grand Canyon

Kathy took the viewer out of my desk drawer, and when I pestered her to give it back, she threw it down on the floor, making me so angry that I grabbed her by the shoulders. We teetered back and forth at the top of the stairs, probably imagining ourselves as cowboys wrestling on a mountain range. Although Kathy was two years younger, she was solid, tough and much more willing to fling me down the stairs than I was to endanger her life. But we stopped before anything bad happened. We were friends who watched out for each other.

#my writing #books & libraries #literature #poetry #poets on tumblr #writers

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enchantedbride · 3 years

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Okay So Lucifer/Joey Reincarnation AU

*flips hair dramatically*

TW: Death Mention (mostly because reincarnation, but there’s a vague mention of a death by non-specified accident), Self-Harm Mention (Because of mentioning Satan’s origins in Obey Me!)

Tagging: @goldenworldsabound, @curiousobsession101, @foreveryours-mouse

(If anyone else wants me to tag them in my Lucifer self-ship stuff let me know! Replies to this post/DMs/etc are all good! Whatever works best.)

Once upon a time, back in ancient times, when the seven demon brothers were still angels in the heavens, the youngest, Belphegor, used to love humans and would come down to hang out with them (sometimes with his sister Lilith or his brother Beelzebub). Lucifer in his days as a Seraphim didn’t really think much of non-angels (he thought humans were weak, foolish, prone to temptation and evil and undeserving of the assistance angels would sometimes give them, and he HATED demons). But one day Belphegor convinced Lucifer to come with him since Lucifer had an assignment that required him to come to the human realm.

And so Belphegor introduced her to his friend, a woman from a merchant family by the name of Jonna. Lucifer didn’t make a very good impression on this woman at first- he seemed arrogant and full of prejudice to her. But he changed his tune when he was struck by how kind and insightful this woman was. He was intrigued by her, and thus told his brother if he wished to have him come again he would.

It would take time, but he would eventually apologize for his initial arrogance, and begin to trust this woman. They came to listen quite a bit to one another’s perspectives and reconsider their own, and eventually they became good friends. She hadn’t quite managed to get him to discard his distaste for humanity, but she had put the thought in his mind that humans were not what he thought.

She certainly wasn’t.

Eventually to his surprise, Lucifer found himself growing romantically attached to her, and initially it frightened him because he wasn’t sure what such a thing would bring if he acted on his feelings. And he had a duty first and foremost to the Celestial Realm and his father. But, eventually with the help of his little sister, Lilith, and some nudging from his fellow angel and friend, Simeon as well, he eventually confessed his feelings to Jonna, and was relieved to find his love was reciprocated.

The lovers were initially happy together, and Lucifer managed to fulfill his duties and please his father. But then, something terrible happened.

Jonna’s life came into mortal danger when her family was set upon by bandits on the road. He was not meant to interfere with the event, but his fear for his love’s safety won out and he came to save her life and that of her family’s. Jonna’s family was grateful for the rescue, and gave them their blessing if Jonna and Lucifer ever wished to marry (and they wound up flustering poor Jonna with the whole proceeding).

But Lucifer’s father... was not so happy about this.

Lucifer had interfered where he was not meant to, and placed priority of his human lover over his duty to the Celestial Ream. And his father saw fit to punish him for this.

Instead of Jonna passing onto an afterlife in the celestial realm where she could be with Lucifer forever upon her eventual death, her soul would instead passing into another human life upon the earth. And, her memories of her previous life would be repressed, so if Lucifer sought her out, she would have no memory of him.

Lucifer was distraught over this. Essentially it would be Jonna who would suffer because of his actions. It became another among many things he would resent in regards to his father, and it would feed the growth of a being that had emerged inside of him, born from his feelings of resentment and rage (an entity that would split from him and eventually become the demon Satan).

He apologized profusely to Jonna and begged her forgiveness, but she consoled him, and told him the solution was simple: he would just have to find her in the next life, and win her heart again. They remained together for the rest of her days, and he even married her, though his work made his often absent. He had to ensure he would not be punished further, and Jonna would suffer no more because of him.

And with her eventual death, thus began the cycle. He would travel the earth until he found her in her next life, and would attempt to win her over. he found out that her memories of her former life were simply repressed and not completely wiped, and that if he tried, he could get her to remember him. This certainly helped with things, but as he sadly found it, it did not guarantee she would fall for him again.

Still, he succeeded enough that he didn’t give up trying.

Eventually, his sister Lilith faced the wrath of their father for saving her own human lover by stealing special food from the celestial realm, and the punishment was to be death for her. This was the last straw for Lucifer. It was bad enough what happened to him, to Jonna. But to wipe his sister from existence as though she were garbage, a mistake, when she was simply trying to help her lover, was against everything he believed.

And thus he rebelled against his father and began the Great Celestial War, rallying his siblings and other angels to his side. But he lost, Lilith was killed (and brought back as a human due to his request of the demon prince Diavolo in exchange for his eternal servitude to him), and the once mighty seraph fell alongside his brothers and became a demon. And, to top it all off, in a fit of anguish and rage he tore out his wings, two of which transformed, and thus Satan became a physical entity separate from himself.

For a time, he stayed away from his love, too ashamed of events that had transpired and fearful she would reject him now that he was a demon. So he threw himself into his work for Diavolo and helped himself and his brothers to become established in the Devildom.

Eventually however, he sought out Jonna’s new incarnation again, and this was thankfully a life were he managed to win her over again, and she accepted him as a demon. And thus the dance of reincarnation continued. But as before, sometimes he succeeded, and sometimes he did not, but his successes kept him going, and one day he hoped to find a way to break her from the cycle so they might live together for eternity.

But, he was also deeply affected by trauma from the Celestial War, and as a demon, he had become an embodiment of sin, specifically the sin of Pride. It deeply affected him, and unfortunately it made things more difficult for him, both in general and in his pursuit of his love.

He had one wonderful success with Jonna some five hundred years ago, but then... a string of terrible failures to win her heart in subsequent lives. In some, to the point she rejected him entirely and wanted nothing to do with him. He grew increasingly desperate, anguished at his failures, and his heart enflamed with jealousy in the instances where she not only rejected him, but found someone else to love.

But then, in the life just before the current one, he wasn’t even able to meet her. This version of her came into mortal danger because of a terrible accident, but he wasn’t able to come and save her in time. She was alive when he came for her, but it was too late, and she died in his arms.

And so The Morning Star fell into depair, and swore he would never seek her out again.

But then... one day, Diavolo makes arrangements for an exchange program between the three realms (human, demon, and angel), and with Lucifer’s help, selects three human to attend the program. Little does he know that one of them is Jonna’s current incarnation.

A woman by the name of Joey Andrews.

#devils and dead girls (lucey)#verse (obey me au: reincarnation)#this is a basic rundown of the au but i'll make a post about some specifics later

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slivermxgic · 3 years

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{cis woman; she/her; questioning} – illyana rasputina/magik who comes from marvel has been spotted in sydney. they are nineteen years old and are a mutant. they have been called +loyal, +powerful, -cunning. it seems like their memories are faded. i’ve also heard that they are a dead ringer for anya taylor-joy.

“Dear Scott Summers, It is Illyana Rasputin. If you are reading this message that means you realize that I broke a rule today. But I had to. I had to see for myself. Things have been so tumultuous for all of us. The mutant race has not caught a break in so very long. We live in chaos. Charles Xavier is no longer with us... The original X-Men live in present day with seemingly no care for how it will affect us in the long run... The X-Men are split right down the middle over how best to serve all of the new mutants popping up all over the world. And still the humans hate and fear us. I just had to see. I used my powers to slip into the future. I just had to see for myself... I had to see for myself that the future was worth fighting for“

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖: illyana nikolievna rasputina/rasputin

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖: magik (superhero name), lightchilde, darkchilde/darkchild

𝔸𝕘𝕖 : nineteen

𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤: inter-dimensional teleportation magic,sorcery,dimensional energy empowerment,soulsword summoning, eldritch armor generatio, portal creation,telekinesis

𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤: mutant (half demon queen)

ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕟: siberia, russia

𝕆𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 : college student

𝕊𝕖𝕩𝕦𝕒𝕝 𝕆𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 : questioning

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤: single

𝔹𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪: September 5th, 2001

𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥: escaping facility that doctor rayes was keeping her in along side some other mutants after it is destroy while fighting the demon bear

𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 : evil/good

movie canon :

illyana was born to Nikolai Rasputin and Alexandra Rasputina on September 5th, 2001 she is the youngest and only female and has an older brother named Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin also known Colossus (in the comics she still the only female of the three siblings and the youngest , in the comics she also have a brother named Mikhail Nikolaievitch Rasputin)

as a young child she was taken as a sex slave

limbo an imaginary dimension in illyana’s she created due to all the suffering she went though . she transported herself here along side her dragon Lockheed (outside of limbo Lockheed is a stuffed dragon toy, in limbo he is very much real ) to to be safe she is a very powerful sorceress.this place has become real to her after spending so much time there (in the comics limbo is a very much real place at the age of six after being saved she lived at the x mansion with her brother and she tagged along when the her brother and the current x men were setting up a base of operations on a mysterious island , while the xmen were busy , illyana was lured away from the xmen and safety and was taken into limbo by Belasco , the xmen followed her into the dimension in tempt to recuse her. this wasn’t the first time the xmen were pulled into limbo, the current members that fell into limbo with illyana an alternate group of the same current xmen from a different reality were pulled into there years prior and they couldnt escape two of those current five of the alternate realities self were killed, the alternative reality storm who goes by ororo , she hold off Belasco’s demonic hordes so the newly trapped xmen can escape with the young illyana however not everything went as planned at the last minute Belasco pulled illyana back into limbo, after he pulled her away from kitty and back into limbo he forced a piece of her soul into a bloodstone ororo attempted to stop Belasco but with her old age and the power of the blood stone she was no match , lucky the alternative reality kitty came to the scene she drove Belasco away , her and ororo took the young girl to ororo’s garden sanctuary , the alternate universe version of storm attempted to sever the magical link Belasco hold on the young girl but she failed so instead she decided to tutor the girl in magic which would allow the young girl to better defend herself kitty then left being upset after a while of training with ororo cat snuck back into the sanctuary to convince the girl to leave with her, cat brought the girl to limbo’s savage land where cat taught the girl how to fight with a sword after three years of teaching the young girl cat brought here back to where Belasco’s territory with the intention to send the girl home and far away from Belasco they got through the alternative version of nightclawer who was under Belasco’s control, they had made in to Belasco’s alter before they could send her home Belasco’s came to further corrupt her and transformed her into his dark chilld, her further muntanted cat so she was now under his control, his plan has work she had cut herself and make Belasco a second blood stone , she spend another two years under his control, she had also attempted to use the same magic the alternative version of storm taught her but she couldn’t even conjure a single acorn, during those two years the demon sim would punish the young girl at the smallest mistakes or for even no reason at all. it was during this time the girls mutant powers manifested. for xx amount years she was in limbo until she used her own mutant powers to bring her back to her time and place, with only a few seconds passing in her time , she was in the hellish dimension for limbo for seven years. illyana was now a teenage)

illyana along with lockheed and her sword she killed eighteen men , including the men that used her as a sex slave. this cause her to be landed in Milbury Hospital where she meet three other mutants one who she doesn’t get along with when they were first admitted into the hospital

when Illyana first meet Dani Moonstar she hated her she tried to kill her more the once .

dani was the one who summed the demon bear to fight against dr reyes, after the bear killed dr reyes and the barriers keeping the mutants there fell vanished , Illyana takes on the demon bear and wins

after that she and the three other mutants are free and get they stuff and head to town

#fadcd.intro #sex slave tw

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dismas-dumbass · 4 years

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Mom says that a house is like a body. And every house has eyes and bones and skin. A face. This room is like the heart of the house. No, not a heart, a stomach.

-The Haunting of Hill House

Hackett Siblings wanted for some absolutely chaotic drama!

CW: suicide, ptsd, mental trauma, death, substance abuse

henlo, welcome to the ad where i lose my shit cause i’ve lost control of my life. anyway! i have the idea for a rather messed up group of siblings slightly based off the Haunting of Hill House show. The basics are that there’s a large house, there’s a large family, something reaaaallyy rreeaally bad happens to the family when the kids are young that have fucked them up for the rest of their lives, fun stuff like that! obviously the situation is more subtle/personal rather than what goes on in the show [i’ll try to be vague due to spoilers] but i think it’s still something that can be rather creepy~ pretty much 95% of the info presented in this version of the ad is rather flexible and flimsy and i definitely don’t mind working with y’all to make it something amazing!! also, no knowledge of the show is needed whatsoever but just be a tiny bit careful if you do wanna see it/don’t like being spoiled mostly just due to the fact that with the themes that will be in the ad the show will probably be discussed as well!

a loooootttt of the details aren’t set in stone btw! i’m pretty much outlining my thoughts and the general concept but things may/will change and things will be added/subtracted as more people contribute to the idea!

if you have any questions or even if this strikes your fancy you can contact me on discord [mine’s dismas#9766]! if there’s more than one of ya then we can get a group chat going so that way we can see what ideas we all have for this! i can’t wait to write with y’all! <3

Backstory

alright, so the gist is that the Hackett family used to live in a rather big and fancy house. why they were there is up in the air so here’s a few suggestions: A. like the show, their parents were fixing it up. now, whether that means they’re going to sell it right after or live in it is open since both angles are rather interesting! B. they inherited it. from who? who knows! could be a relative that one of the parents knew, could have been random. it’s just a harmless house right? it might be good for the family! C. they just moved there. weird house for a good price? why not! it might be fun!

whatever the reason, the siblings were in the house for some time. whether they’re natives to Dyrne or outsiders is open since all of the concepts can cover those possibilities easily! there’s no strict timeline yet as to how old they were when they were in that house but more than likely the youngest [twin] siblings were no younger than 6 so make of that what you will with the age ranges~ i would say that they were in that house for about a year or so? technically not too long in their lives but enough to cause lifelong damage?

their parents were good people. they had their flaws obviously and raising literally seven kids was an undertaking but they managed fine enough. mostly through the power of having the older siblings taking care of the younger. but even then they were loving parents. their father was a bit of a mess but well-meaning [think: one of the little siblings learned a swear word from an older one and their father tries to track them down, shouting throughout the house ‘get your ass in here now or else you’re grounded!’] and their mother was more organized yet didn’t hesitate to create a tiny bit of harmless chaos every once in a while. they loved each other, they loved their kids.

now, obviously, there’s the subject of the house itself. what’s the history behind it? that’s definitely left open due to the very reason why they’re there. but there’s probably something wrong with the house. physically? spiritually? mentally? whoever walks those halls won’t exactly be coming back out the same, that’s for sure. And that’s sort of what happened. the official story was that the Hackett family lived in the house for year, doing whatever, and then a fire broke out which caused the death of their mother. the rest of the family was able to escape and the father gave the testimony that it was an electrical fire -when investigated, he was proven innocent of any wrongdoing.

so what’s the actual story? It’s a bit of a mish mash of weird memories, mostly. it’s not really known whether the house is actually alive alive or if its history is just a horrible set of coincidences of bad stuff happening to people. the actual night was a blur to the siblings, all of them being ushered out of the house by their frantic father and herded into the car. when they asked where their mother was their father didn’t answer so they were just left crying after their missing mother. they didn’t even know that there was a fire even though maybe one of them said that they smelled smoke. they didn’t find out until one of the officers at the scene talked about it. for whatever reason, each and every one of them were silent on why they were brought out of the house by their father.

it’s still something they don’t know about.

to be fair, it was almost a partial relief to be out of the house. as i mentioned with the family they were held together well enough and were loving but things started to change when they moved to that house. slowly, surely, they started to encounter strange happenings, feel strange things, and started to view each other differently. what exactly happened to each family member is left open since they mostly don’t speak of their experiences except for the youngest. even their father, who may have experienced quite a lot, was tight-lipped about what happened to him, especially on the night of the fire. the experiences changed them, messed with them, and caused them to splinter and falter and break. after the death of their mother there was obviously quite a few years before everyone split up but they eventually did, going off to do their own things with their own scars hidden beneath their lies. some moved away, some stayed, but they still stayed in touch in some fashion. just not enough to be considered personal anymore.

what brought them all back together was the death of their father not too long ago. The poor man must have been consumed by guilt of some sort and took his own life, leaving his children behind to deal with the aftermath. they still never got any secrets from him nor any answers so all that’s there are feelings of confusion and loss. where the story begins is the revealed news that all the siblings are going to be living under one roof -in that house. the youngest daughter, for whatever reason, decided to purchase their childhood home back and has been in the process of restoring it. the reason why each sibling decides to go along with this is up in the air but the end result is the same: all seven siblings, plus any other family they may have, are now living in that house again.

Siblings

all the siblings except the one i’ll be playing are not set in stone! i’m going for a redheaded family sort of feel so the face claims i’ve put for each of them are something that i prefer but! tbh i’m super flexible and and at the end of the day it’s not a dealbreaker to choose someone else~ since i don’t wanna restrict folk’s fun over a fc choice! overall the sibling's interactions between each other are not that amicable -some may try to cooperate but old wounds come up and oftentimes a fight arises. they still have their weird traditions such as drawing straws if they need to do something and nobody wants to or they all fall silent at the same time [not often, obv., since they're mostly shouting over each other] that cause people on the outside to look at them strangely. at the end of the day, they can't escape the fact that they are siblings and are from the same disturbed family.

beliefs as well are varied and open! none say that they believe their youngest brother whenever he tries to convince them of what happened at the house though whether or not they believe that inside their heads is another matter entirely~

also! don’t feel as though you have to base your characters off any from the show! it’s just a nice start-off point and if you’re inspired but it’s definitely not a requirement whatsoever!

tbh a lot of the siblings aren’t fleshed out a lot & what happened to them in the house is also open so feel free to go wild!! i mean it; you can add as much as you want so that you can create a character that you’ll love to write for!

Eldest Son- 51. Toby Stephens.

being the eldest, he was the one to usually look after the younger children if their parents needed to do something. he built up a sort of protector complex where he has to make sure that he knows where all the other siblings are at all times. he fails constantly, of course, since he can’t even manage to have one of them listen to him. still, he feels responsible for all of his other siblings and takes it personally when he can’t get something done for them. he has his flaws, obviously, in that he tries to say that his way is the right way and can be as stubborn as an ox so despite his best intentions he clashes with some of the other siblings. this may be why none of them tend to listen to him.

Second Son- 50. Tony Curran.

He is one of the quieter siblings, preferring to be by himself when not needed. It isn’t that he dislikes his siblings; he just likes to be alone rather than among them. he’s kind and thoughtful so whenever one of the others needs help he’ll try to be there but besides that don’t count on him being somewhere on his own. Actually, it may be difficult to count on him in general because he loses track of time often and before he knows it he’s two hours late to moving some furniture for someone. this is probably the reason why he tends to be by himself -he doesn’t seem to grasp the passage of time as others have.

Eldest Daughter- 47. Sarah Rafferty.

she’s cruel. not absolutely cruel but cruel enough. she likes to poke and prod her siblings and see what sets them off. she thinks it’s funny and likes to observe the aftermath of her machinations. she likes to claim that she’s just bored but in reality she’s absolutely insecure herself and wants to bring others down to feel better about herself. don’t tell this to her face because she will absolutely try to turn it back on you and make you out to be the bad guy while she is the victim. also, don’t try to get revenge -she’ll just be more inclined to do something worse to you.

Second Daughter- 46. Amy Adams.

she’s neutral towards, well, everything. she kind of just exists and she doesn’t like that. not a lot of passion, not a lot of purpose. maybe she tries something daring once in a while to feel something but comes up short. it’s difficult for her to emotionally connect with others in a deep way and oftentimes she finds herself alone. she doesn’t like being alone, though, since being alone means she’ll be alone with her thoughts and she hates that. If she can even feel that properly, anyway. she’s not emotionless in the sense that she is sociopathic but her difficulty feeling things has caused her to have a sarcastic and thorny exterior towards anyone she meets, fueling her involuntary self-isolation.

Third Daughter- 43. Jessica Chastain. Reserved for spooky spice

she's the face of the family. the most energetic. the most chaotic. the one to threaten to break someone's kneecaps if they dare harm her siblings. she'll give a show-stopping smile and then tell you to eat shit afterwards. due to the minimal age difference she always had to watch the twins and therefore she is close to them, especially Thomas. some joke that she's actually Thomas' twin -she can sort of just sense whenever the youngest Hackett is in trouble. she's not happy about anything seeming messy, of course, so she spares no second to chastise anyone [including Thomas] about what they have done wrong. her status among stardom cannot afford any blemishes so catch her changing the subject whenever an interviewer brings up the fact that her younger brother is a drug addict. trust her, she knows. she knows all too well. and maybe her motivation for buying up the Hackett siblings' childhood house was to try to get Thomas some actual help after he failed out of rehab for the umpteenth time. their father's suicide may have just reinforced her decision to go forward with this.

Twin One- 42. Michael Fassbender.

maybe he’s one of the most normal. maybe’s he’s the most normal. maybe he has to be -his twin is an absolute trainwreck of a human being and his family is an equal amount of mess. maybe he’s just good at saving face and hiding the damage caused by the house [and maybe by his siblings]. some days, he sort of forgets that he’s a twin and that said twin is a drug addict. when they were young they were close though he would often play kind of cruel tricks on his younger twin such as locking the door to the basement after daring Thomas to go down the stairs, leaving him in a room alone with the lights off, and things like that. he grew out of it, matured, and tries to ignore the fact that he may or may not have been part of the reason why Thomas is the way he is now. he's too focused on being a professor at the college to fully see the cries of help his younger twin is showing.

Twin Two Thomas Hackett- 42. Michael Fassbender. Taken by Dismas.

so you’re asking me if i have a problem. i probably do. the youngest of the Hackett family; he’s probably one of the most heavily affected by the events at the house. for those familiar with the show think a combination of inspiration between Luke and Eleanor Crain, but also with even more issues maybe as well as none of the siblings being on his side whatsoever on anything. he had quite a few strange encounters ranging anywhere from encountering something in the basement when he was locked in one time by his twin to being trapped in a room with so much noise that he passed out for hours. now, figure, he’s a young kid when all of this happened [probably around 6 or so, could be a tiny bit older] so he doesn’t know how to deal with any of this. this really fucks him up. on top of that, whenever he told his family, none of them ever believed, further fueling the feeling of being unwanted. he was probably the closest one to their mother, being the youngest and the most vulnerable of the children, so he was absolutely devastated when she perished in the fire that fateful night. he blamed his father, thinking that he did something to her and tried to hide it with said fire. he never stopped believing in that, nor in the experiences he had in the house, and it pretty much ate at his soul. not only that but nobody still believed him so he always felt useless. he developed a bitter and angry attitude to try to hide this but the wounds were never able to be covered for long and so he eventually turned to drugs to soothe his pain. obviously, it never fully did so he just fell deeper into the rabbit hole. he dropped out of high school and started to do all sorts of jobs and favors in order to get his next fix, oftentimes winding up being arrested for petty crimes. he earned a bad reputation around town and the only reason why he didn’t face too much jail time is due to one of his siblings always bailing him out. wash, rinse, and repeat.

nowadays he goes between being sort of okay and having his own place to being absolutely drugged out of his mind and having to crash at a sibling’s place if they’re local -mostly his twin or the youngest daughter of the family. he’s failed out of rehab recently which may have been one of the reasons why the youngest daughter decided to purchase and fix up their childhood home; so that he can have a stable over his head for once and maybe recover from his habits. little does she know, or maybe care, that the house was the reason for his down spiral in the first place so he is not thrilled whatsoever to be stuck in the same building with all the same people who did not believe him. he hates it here.

Other Ideas

this is pretty much going to be only the possible family of the siblings woops but with the house being rather large there’s a ton of room for more than just the siblings themselves and more than likely some of the other siblings are going to be in some sort of relationship unlike Thomas. now, of course, maybe not all of the spouses/partners/children live in the house after all but then again they might! i have a few small ideas:

the loyal partner- this partner is loyal to the sibling they’re married to/with, always making sure they’re alright and making sure the sibling is well taken care of. maybe even spoil/indulge a little too much the whims of the sibling. they may seem a little more oblivious to the chaotic dynamics of the siblings and the strangeness of the house. they just think that everyone needs to get along and everything will be okay! except it’s never that easy and they probably just look foolish for suggesting that.

the angry partner- they hate it in the house. all the fighting and the tension and the drama; they think it’s a bunch of bullshit. they especially think all the spooky~ stuff that apparently happened in the house is all bullshit too and won’t hesitate to call anyone out if the supernatural is even entertained. they just want to live their life in relative peace with the sibling they’re with

the mediator partner- they may not necessarily believe in the unbelievable -in fact, their career hinges on finding out why people process stuff the way they do [ex. a therapist or psychologist]- but they still try to see all angles. they’re typically the one trying to quell the arguments between siblings and trying to see why the siblings feel the way they do about things (and about each other). they’re curious, however, about the house itself and may start poking around in the wrong places to try to discover the truth.

[one tiny suggestion! perhaps the mediator partner is married to Thomas’ twin brother and they have a kid with the face claim of Reece King? ;^; he has slightly similar facial features to Michael Fassbender + i think it’d be sweet if the partner tries to see why Thomas is fucked up the way he is and maybe even begins to sympathize/believe him after they start to figure stuff out?]

Plots

alright! so the obvious plots are going to be the interactions between siblings~ their personalities may give a hint to who they do or don’t get along with but in all honesty they all have bad enough blood with each other to have issues one way or another. so! drama! one of those ‘if you leave them in a room for long enough they’ll find something to fight about’ type of things! they do love each other -really, they do- but their experiences in the house changed them forever and there’s no gaining that back. they can only move forward.

they’re already living in the house for a short period of time [maaaybbe a month? a few weeks?] so they’re all settled in and dealing with the presence of each other and it’s not going exactly swimmingly for obvious reasons. maybe some try to cooperate with each other? others not so much. there’s plenty of fighting and slamming doors and shouting and leaving the area/the house to cool off. on more than one occasion Thomas has already stated that he’s leaving for good and going out on his own. he never follows through with the threat -he can’t. he’s as tied to the house as everyone else is and now he can’t escape. but you get the gist. it’s going to take a while for them to see eye to eye with each other. if they ever do, anyway.

future plots to explore are, of course, up in the air but they can deal with the siblings learning more about each other, learning more about their parents, and learning more about the house. and, of course, learning more about their town as well! Whether things start to get better or if they down spiral even further is going to be rather interesting to see~

for initial threads it could be fun [in a morbid sense] to do a past one where they’re attending their father’s funeral since that was kind of actually a shitshow. imagine all the siblings, with their awful traits, having to deal with the death of their parent and just in terrible pain. so, what else to do than to cause issues with each other and create quite a few commotions? obv. when the sibling’s personalities are solidified we can discuss this further! overall the first types of posts will be their interactions with the site plots, the town itself, and between them when they’re at the house so there’s plenty of room for drama!

#thirdeyerp #wanted ad~#wanted to do this before the dev stuff woops #have an absolute disaster of a family #pls love them kthxbaaaiii

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ardentmuse · 5 years

Note

Ahhhhh! Congratulations on 2k! I'm so happy for you! You definitely deserve it! Thank you for doing this fun celebration! Could I request 11 with Ned Stark?

Promises Swept and Promises Kept

Game of Thrones - Eddard (Ned) Stark x fem!Reader

11. Well, I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities: yes and no.

Wordcount: 3.4k (welp, I give up. I am clearly incapable of 1k word limit. Sorry, I’m the worst)

Warnings: angst, ugh just all the angst, and fluff at the end, talk of war and death, but nothing outside canon, takes place at the start of Robert’s Rebellion

Masterlist

A/N: There are only like 5 Ned Stark imagines out there. WHY??? Ned is such a beautiful soul. I feel so so blessed to have gotten to tackle this and I clearly apologize for the emotional rollercoaster below. Also, sorry for two GoT pieces in a row. I’m doing these in the order they came in.

You knocked lightly on the door to the solar even though you had been summoned. The door was ajar and you could just make out the form of Ned slumped over the desk, a crumpled version of himself, so small and withered compared to the massive force that was the man you were used to seeing so noble upon this seat, Lord Rickard Stark. But Lord Stark was dead now. And so was the young Lord Brandon. Your betrothed never seemed such a boy as he appeared now holding the mantle of Winterfell and the North upon his shoulders.

You knocked a second time, this one with more force, and with it Ned straightened his back and beckoned your entry.

“My lady, sit,” he said in a tone that mimicked his father’s voice so. The sweet nothings you were used to hearing from his mouth, soft late at night as you held hands upon the battlements, Ned begging you not to return home with your father’s men but to stay by his side until the end of his days, were gone. You were not meeting with your Ned but with Eddard instead.

You did as your lord commanded, settling your skirts as you leaned into the hard leather. Everything about this sight was imposing from the stout wood of the desk to the tension of Ned’s jaw to the stacks of parcels and parchments which created such a visible divide between you and the man you loved. You straightened your back, trying to appear the strong partner you knew he needed now in this time of loss and of war, but you felt yourself falter when he didn’t even look up to meet your gaze.

Ned lifted a hand to dismiss the maester you hadn’t even realized was waiting in the corner. He nodded and closed the door behind him, his chains making a gentle chime down the hall until they could be heard no more. But still, Ned did not look at you.

After several moments of awkward silence, Ned stood and walked over to your side. You smiled, thinking maybe he had wanted to wait for you to be properly alone before he offered your fingers a gentle kiss but he didn’t touch you. Instead, he grabbed the letter at the top of the stack, the seal already broken, and thrust it forward into your hands.

You looked at him in question but he had walked now to look out the window into the battlements below. The Lord’s chambers looked out into the courtyard, towards the stables and the western gate. The view of the hillsides stretched on your miles and if somehow the eye could continue on the horizon, you’d be able to see your own home. You had wondered often when you looked out on the horizon from your chambers in the years since your marriage had been promised if Ned was looking out at you too. And if the world were not curved, you might be able to look at each other. Only now, when Ned was indeed looking the way you had hoped all these years, it was to look at anything other than you.

You sighed and opened the parchment, prepared for news of another death or maybe a call to arms. Your heart clenched at the thought that it might be news regarding Lyanna, whom you loved as a sister, but when you took in the fish of the seal, you found yourself thoroughly confused.

As you read, you couldn’t even take in all the words. It was a jumble of phrases, each of which stabbed at your heart.

“Lord Stark… Catelyn the title of Lady of Winterfell… military support… promised in writing and word… Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell… shall see through and marry my daughter…”

The words were becoming even harder to read as you realized tears were rolling down your cheeks. Lord Hoster Tully wished for Ned to marry his daughter to fulfill the promise of her marriage to Brandon? Had the Lord not known of Ned’s forthcoming marriage? Of you?

You had been at Winterfell for well over a moon now, had come racing with your father and a few loyal men the instant you had received the raven regarding the Warden of the North’s demise at the hands of the Mad King. You had wanted to offer Ned comfort. Your dad had wanted to see you married before the inevitable horns of war were blown, but neither had yet to happen and now you understood why.

“Ned, my love,” you called, which made his back visibly stiffen, breaking your heart in one fell swoop, “what is the meaning of this?”

Ned turned and looked at you for the first time since you had entered his solar. His eyes were rimmed in red and his skin was much paler than you would have liked. Ned was often out in the woods hunting or working on his swordsmanship in the yard. His skin was often kissed by the sun just as you would have liked to kiss it yourself. You recalled the man you met upon your first visit to Winterfell just a moon after you first bled. Ned smiled beside his siblings as you exited the carriage. He kissed your hand with the softest lips, never letting his eyes travel away from your gaze. His cheeks had been red when Brandon practically had to pull you away from him so you could greet Lyanna and Benjen properly. You remembered wondering if it was a sunburn or blush upon his skin, hoping beyond hope that it was the latter. And when he stumbled in his sword work, finding himself completely pinned under his brother’s training blade when he saw you watching from the covered walkway above, you knew for sure it had been exactly that.

You were betrothed before the next feast day.

“It means that if we want the support of the Riverlands, I must marry Catelyn Tully,” he said, sounding much more firm than he looked.

“And how do you intent to respond?”

Ned looked at the floor and swallowed. “Well, I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities: yes and no.”

You felt the lump growing in your throat as you fisted your skirts. You hoped you would be able to get out words.

“Just like that,” you said, “One Lord comes calling and you consider throwing me away? Do you not love me anymore?”

“It’s not like that—“ Ned spit his words with what could almost be anger but he stopped himself. He took short steps forward before falling into the chair beside you. “It’s not about love. It’s about the promise my father made to Lord Tully and—“

“And what about the promise he made to my father? Huh? Or the promises you’ve made to me? You promised to marry me, Ned, to love me, to be my lord husband. Am I just supposed to ignore all those letters you’ve written, all those late nights by the fires hoping the servants might not see our stolen kisses, the times you’ve told me you’ve missed me and how you’ve longed for the day I’ll be in your bed and the names you’ve already considered for our children?”

You were screaming now, not so much at Ned for considering following through with this request – if Ned was anything, it was honorable – but at all the other insane circumstances that you knew would pull this world apart but that you truly had believed wouldn’t be able to take away what you and Ned shared. That was the rule wasn’t it? The oldest marries for politics, the middle marries for peace, and the youngest serves the realm? You were a daughter of the north, a house that served and honored the Starks for years, a house with a bounty of resources and wealth to match the Starks in power if you didn’t share your northern values. You and Ned were the smart match for the North if not for your own hearts as well. Would the North not want a lady of their own blood running their largest stronghold and providing council to the man who called it his?

“Sometimes the promises of a boy do not align with the responsibilities of a man.” Ned said the words to the floor, though his hand seemed to fumble upon the armrest of the chair, clearly desiring to hold yours but unsure if it wise given his indecision.

As you sat together in silence, the tears were flowing in earnest. As you hiccuped to catch your breath, Ned made his decision and reached over your skirts. He caught your fingers in his own and squeezed them, strong and sure the way you hoped you might be as man and wife someday, a partnership that leaned on each other for strength.

“I don’t know what to say,” you managed.

“Nor do I.”

Ned’s other hand came up to run along your jaw and soon your head was resting against his shoulder, his own tears wetting the crown of your head.

“Stay with me, Ned,” you whisper, feeling desperate for the man before you.

“What you are asking of me could tear apart the realm.”

“Any more than Rhaegar already has?” you spat, the anger flying through you more and more by the second, by each moment Ned doesn’t simply say yes to you.

A moment of silence passed as you held each other before you must break it.

“Is there nothing we can do? Can’t you promise something better to Lord Tully?”

Ned gave a sad laugh, “What greater honor is there for his daughter than to be Lady over the largest of the Seven Kingdoms?”

“Queen?” you said without thinking, though at the words, Ned’s grip upon your back tightened before he began rubbing gentle circles into your flesh, his hand a little lower than would be considered proper had you not been alone. Even in this moment of pain, Ned gave you a little glimmer of what life might have been like as his wife if he ever gave you the pleasure. Your corset made the rub of his fingers feel like a ghost upon your skin. You wanted desperately to remove the garment, to allow him to touch your skin as he should. Part of you even wondered that if Ned could not be yours forever, perhaps he might be yours for a night, to allow you to taste the love you’ve sworn to all these years. But you knew Ned would never defile you so. His honor simply wouldn’t allow him to ruin you for your marriage bed, but maybe in a moment of weakness…

“I must leave at once, my lady.” Ned said the last words so quietly, fighting back pain. You hated to hear him so, but part of you was grateful that this hurt him too. “I must go give Lord Tully my word in person.”

“Will you return to me?” you asked, knowing how pathetic you sounded but honestly not caring.

Ned kissed your brow as he pulled your face away from his shoulder. He looked haggard, decades older than his years.

“I cannot say.”

You nodded. There was really nothing else you could do. Your eyes found your lap as you clasped your hands together. You loved the boy before you and as much as he was breaking your heart, you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to make this any harder for him in turn.

Ned’s hand found your chin and tilted your head upward, pulling you to meet his gaze once more. He looked like he wanted to say something but the words just were not there. Instead he gripped you a little tighter than you were used to and pulled your lips to his.

His kiss was tentative, soft and tender in a way only Ned could be. Ned was not one for many words – he never was – but the few fanciful phrases you were able to pull out of him over your engagement always came after moments like this, where he held you in his arms and took your lips against his when he thought no one could see.

When you finally gave in, leaning forward and tasting what you could of his glorious mouth, he poured his passion into you. It became the kind of kiss you assumed the common men spoke of when they praised whores. Ned had never given you so much of himself. His hands found your ribs and held you tight to him, pulling you from your chair and into his arms. He sat you upon his lap like a man carried his bride, caressing your sides as he explored your mouth with his lips and his tongue. You couldn’t stop yourself from holding tightly to his face, taking life and breath from him as if you would survive not a moment without it. The musk of him was setting your senses on fire and you felt the pain pull tight in your chest as his mouth left yours for only a moment, returning as quickly as it could to love upon your jaw and your neck with renewed vigor.

“Oh, Ned. My Ned,” you breathed as you held tightly to him. He was sucking upon your earlobe now but at the sound of the word ‘my,’ he completely stopped his movements. And after a quite moment, only your mutual breathing filling the void, Ned buried his head in your neck and cried.

The tears raked through his body, shook his core, and echoed in the room. You worried servants would come to check on you the boom was so loud but they seemed to know better than to open a closed door. All the pent up sadness, at the potential loss of you, the only constant left in his life after the death of his mother, his father, and his brother, the kidnapping of his sister and the war brewing just a few hundred miles south, was finally being released.

In your arms, Ned found the comfort to feel the pain he hadn’t felt since he put on the armor of Lord of Winterfell. And in your arms, he would leave it.

Minutes it took for Ned to calm down. And without warning, when his breathing grew stable, he picked you up and placed you on the settee by the window, allowing you to lie down among his things in his sacred space. He kissed your brow, allowing himself the chance to touch your soft lips, now red and puffy at his attentions, once more with his fingertips.

“I must leave Winterfell at once. And so should you.”

With strong strides, he walked towards the door, leaving you stunned.

Just as his hand found the doorknob, he turned to you.

“My lady—Y/N—I, I love you. No matter what happens, I know that I have never lied about loving you. I love you now and I venture I always will.”

And with that, he left his solar, and your life, for the great unknown. You sat for hours in that room, watching the stables and courtyard out the window until Ned and a handful of trusted men loaded up horses and began the long journey south to the Riverlands.

A year had passed since you last heard from Ned, not that you asked for any updates. Your entire energy had been focused on supplying the northern armies with food and shelter as they headed south and keeping the women and children of your keep warm and feed throughout the chaos. Ravens were few and far between, just the rogue notes from your men as they stopped at the inns on the high road, given you estimates of their needs and their returns.

The first you heard of Ned after he called upon your father’s armies just a week after your return home was a message that the Lord of Winterfell and his men would be resting at your residence on their long journey home, now that the war was won.

There was no mention of a Lady Stark.

You consumed yourself with preparations, daring not to ask too many questions about the fallout of the battles in the south. You knew of the destruction of the city, the death of the Mad King, and the downfall of many of the great houses but the specifics could be left until Lord Stark called the noble houses to his keep to inform them of the new regime running the Seven Kingdoms.

And so when you stood in the courtyard alongside your most trusted advisors, ready to greet your father and your lord, you were preparing yourself for the painful sight of him helping a pregnant Tully bride down from her carriage steps as well.

Ned and your father came riding through the gate together, though no carriage followed. You ran to your father with tears of joy, so grateful for the gods’ protection in seeing him safely home. And when you turned to Ned and he smiled at you, you hoped he might have found it in him for once to listen to his heart instead of his head.

But then you saw it, the tiny bundle in Ned’s arms, the dark head of hair so similar to his own and the little arms that fought to get out of the wool swaddling cloth. A true baby of the north.

A lump grew hard and heavy in your throat as you remembered yourself and dropped in your bow at your lord.

“My lord,” you said, gazing at the ground. You saw Ned’s fingers out of the corner of your eyes, helping to pull you back to standing. You took them and looked at the man who had your heart since you were but two and ten. He seemed sheepish, so different from the warrior you assumed he had grown into.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lady L/N.”

“Lady Catelyn had a child?” you said with eyes down to the little boy, trying to hide the hurt in your heart at the thought that Ned’s first born would not be of your flesh and of your womb, a promise broken in exchange for another.

Ned swallowed, “Yes, she did, though this is not he.”

Your eyes flicked up to look at him full.

“The Baratheon babe is safely with his mother and father in King’s Landing.”

Ned was smiling full now, one of almost pride at you. Lord Tully was indeed willing to give up Catelyn’s place of Lady of Winterfell at the prospect of something greater. Ned took your council, the way a Lord should his lady wife. And the smile on his face let you know just now that he had spent a year fighting to guarantee that you could be just that.

Your heart swelled and you went to hug him, to shower him in the kisses you prayed you might be able to someday, but then the baby in Ned’s arms cooed again and you stopped yourself mid-motion.

And then everything came crashing down on your once more as tears filled your eyes. Ned fathered a bastard? The thought was so incongruous with the man you knew and loved. The idea of him sleeping with just anyone hurt even more than the idea of him finding another bride.

“My lady. My love,” Ned said, pulling your eyes to him once more, though the wheels of your brain just kept churning. His voice dropped to a whisper “I have never been disloyal to you. I would never choose to bring such shame upon your name. You will be my wife in truth and we shall only know each other for the rest of our days.”

“But—“ you began in protest but Ned’s body shot forward, keeping you close so his voice could maintain a whisper.

“How much did you love my sister, my sweet? Please tell me.”

You swallowed, feeling the loss of Lyanna acutely. “She was my closest and dearest friend,” you said in sincerity.

Ned smiled as he repositioned the baby so he might grip your hand. Taking a moment and rubbing his fingers over your knuckles, he continued, “Then, I need you to promise me that I can trust you with a very important secret.”

You looked down at the babe, at the dark hair upon his head and the cute button nose and the deep-set eyes so telling of his Stark roots. And immediately, like a candle flicking to life, it all made sense. You pulled Ned’s hand towards your lips and kissed it, nodding in turn as if your love for him was not confirmation enough, before taking the baby boy into your arms to surround him in motherly love.

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#game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #ned stark #ned stark imagine #ned stark x reader #eddard stark #eddard stark imagine #eddard stark x reader #asoiaf #asoiaf imagine #x reader #reader insert #ardentmuse almost 2k celebration #igotmadskills #lia talks

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