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#BETRAYAL FROM MY OWN SIBLING??????
lunar-wandering · 10 months
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Miss rat wine..
WHY ARE YOU JOINING IN????? I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST YOU???? BETRAYAL!!! BETRAYAL!!!!!!
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nerdie-faerie · 1 year
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Thinking about how most of the times we see Kol in tvd he's acting as errand boy for his siblings, starting with Rebekah asking him to kill Matt at the ball. If he cared solely about killing someone to spit in the face of Esther's rules he could have killed anyone else after Rebekah changed the plan. The second time, he's in Denver with Jeremy and texts Klaus to let him know if there's anything else his brother needs from him. And later Klaus calls on him to use his presence with Jeremy to threaten Bonnie into undoing the linking spell. Then he's there again to kill Mary when he finds out from Klaus that the mfg are trying figure out who they're sired from after breaking his cover in Denver. He's not even in series 4 up until Rebekah gets undaggered and suddenly he's there to retrieve the professor for her
I just think it's interesting that he's characterised as the volatile and reckless sibling and in the originals we learn that he constantly feels like an outsider in his own family with Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah making up their own little trio with Finn daggered. And yet anytime they need something he's there, almost as though he's still desperately trying to endear himself to them until he inevitably lashes out and gets daggered for it, his efforts constantly unappreciated. The only time he asks them for a favour that I can recall is when he swears Rebekah to secrecy about the dagger he's working on against Klaus only for her to tattle and get him daggered
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dinosrawr · 1 year
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To the poor friends that have watched me deteriorate a bit in the tags this month: I think I know what enhanced the pain so much this year. And now that I (think) I know, I'll be more capable of dealing with it. On my own, I mean. And not at 4am in Tumblr tags because I need to scream into the void.
#my brother.#because yeah life is hard without a mom especially with I'm physically feeling with what I've got going on and she's not around to lean on#but the brother#as much of an asshole as he is. that's MY asshole. that's my little punk bitch to deal with.#that's my first best friend. my ride it die. the great person to ever see me as a person and accept me.#the first person i ever felt the need to protect. the reason i didn't give in to THOSE thoughts as a teenager.#y'all. of all the loss and betrayal I've experienced. this one is the worst.#if there's any one person that's supposed to see you through the world. that's supposed to be by your side from birth to death#it's your sibling#no one know you like that and no one ever will. i don't care how close you get to others throughout your life.#they LIVE with the disaster that was you in the middle of puberty and still decide to hang out with you as a teenager after school#they know every flaw. the ones you still have AND the ones that you grew out of. they know all the buttons to push for both anger and joy#you might be your own person. hell you SHOULD be your own person. but you have no idea how much of you is actually made up of your siblings#until they aren't there#and that. that is why this year got so much harder. they last sibling i had left is gone. 'dead to me' he said and meant#my first best friend broke my heart. left me. I've never cried like that in my life. (and it was in public too. holy shit)#i wouldn't wish this kind of pain and heartbreak on my worst enemy.#may all of you. every single one of you. always live in a world with your siblings.#no one else can lose them. it's not allowed. I've taken one for the team and I'm the only one of my friends who gets to feel like this-ever#i wish all of your siblings the longest of lives and happiness.
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bamsara · 3 months
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I'm new to this blog, what's dream lamb and dream narinder?? They're cool but I do not understand I wish to comprehend
Dream Lamb (And Dream Narinder) is exactly as the name implies; dream versions of the counterpart that only appears within Narinder's (Or Lambert's) dreams at night.
They are a visual manifestation of the subconscious, they are not real individuals. They can reflect what Narinder/Lamb's true feelings are about something/someone, or torment them about things that they perceive to be true.
One example is that Dream Lamb often makes Narinder remember how fondly he thinks of the Lamb ("You think of them so poetically" + all prior friendship he had with them in the gateway) or pointing out how his words contradict his actions; behaving and believing them to be a traitor and insufferable but doing things of his own will (resurrecting the crab, not killing their flock because it makes them upset, allowing Leshy to live, ect ect).
Dream Lamb ALSO points out the complicated feelings with his siblings; ie reminding him of how he used to help raise his youngers, and the mixture of emotions he feels towards individuals who he claims he despises.
Dream Narinder (Who is not into written form yet and is only in comic form as of this post) who instead of tormenting the dreamer with confrontation of feelings being denied, instead sews doubt and guilt. The Lamb feels even though they stayed true to themselves, they cannot help but feel like their perceived betrayal has damaged the friendship between them and Narinder beyond repair. Despite that grief for the loss of friendship, they'll accept what little companionship they can have from their best friend left over.
Dream Narinder fuels on this, often echoing their worst fears and worries ('You've done a good job as my vessel, so I no longer have a need for you.") So he acts non-nonchalant and often mocking/teasing, or even indulgent with the acknowledgment that none of it is real. Where as Dream Lamb confronts Narinder with feelings he's wanting to push back, Dream Narinder goes the opposite route, and calmly and casually reinforces what they believe to be the reality.
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Dream Lamb represents Denial of the Truth, While Dream Narinder is the Acceptance of a Lie.
However,
Because they are corrupted visuals of the subconscious, but still their subconscious nonetheless, this means that these behaviors can change or be different depending on how the dreamer thinks/feels, and how they're processing their emotions in relation to something. Especially when they're confronting it.
In other words, the closer Narinder gets to accepting his feelings and understanding the Lamb's reasoning for their 'betrayal', and the closer the Lamb gets to realizing Narinder's care for them still persists, the more accurate and truer the dreams become.
Like in this comic, where Dream Narinder is tormenting the Lamb, but after their snap back that Narinder would not say something so cruel to them, despite his outward attitude, they are practically rewarded with a praise for it.
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For Dream Narinder specifically, his eye remains closed....but opens a little more the closer and closer the Lamb gets to believing how Narinder truly feels about them, whether the real cat has accepted it or not.
As for Dream Lamb, they go from being very aggressive about their confrontation to something more docile, eventually as Narinder starts to process everything.
Another thing: the Dreams are linked. Not always, but they have to be on the same...wavelength for it. An understanding, perhaps. But they do affect each other, sometimes.
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The dreams can be nice too, depending. That's why they're not always nightmarish. Meaning, with enough push and pull, eventually:
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Why all of this dream and nightmare stuff is happening? Yet to be revealed.
Remember guys if you avoid your feelings in real life they might hunt you down in your dreams, and possibly bluetooth you to the object of your affections dreams as well if you're nice about it
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darlingofvalyria · 8 months
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❝Dragons do not seek permission, niece of mine. Dragons take.❞
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[ Betrayal clouds your judgement, for when Jacaerys' indiscretion takes the form of a child, your anger lands in the palm of the Rogue Prince. ]
[ +18 MDNI ] [ 3,412 ] | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen Niece!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Manipulative Aunt!Reader | this set in an au inside of in hightower green. | this is able to be read as a oneshot.
contains— canon divergence to the second power - an au of an au - targcest, use of 'bastard', infidelity, profanity, revenge, violence, pureblood Valyrian bullshit - thinking about death as a revenge but no suicide/suicidal ideation- angst, smut - two wrongs apparently make a right - mentions of children, pregnancy, childbirth - nsfw: rough sex, biting, degradation, breeding kink, smidge dacryphilia, creampie - no kinslayers, no kings, no betas.
a/n— special thanks to @ahristata and @hiraethrhapsody for kicking my pursuit of this thread!! i woke up (almost literally) to this line of inquiry, & though writing for daemon is difficult, i had a way, way too much fun with this one m'fraid. Ihad so much fun I started laughing at the absurdity. + comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!
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You can't breathe.
You stand there, your daughters by your sides, no more than five or so name days, dutiful as ever, the princess of the realm— the heir's wife, blindsided. Betrayed. Lied to. And you can't show them your grief, your anger, your shock— you smile, not betrayed, not realised, stupid.
Your act of stupidity protects you, for you can just tell that others, sharp-eyed as they are owning of sharper tongues, calculate the similarities between your husband and the child he is cooing at, at the arms of the Warden of the North's sister.
His bastard fucking sister.
You can't blink away as the facts, the threads, make a beautiful web in front of you. The conclusion is unmistakable. Jacaerys' consistent travels to the North, despite the campaigning for his mother's seat had not required the frequent stretches of long travels. How Aemond had remarked that the bastard is doing twice as much work in doing so, "as he should," Aemond murmurs darkly. "He casts a disgusting shadow on the Iron Throne, 'tis the least he can do."
The insistent of personally greeting the delegates from the North, you thinking it is just his wondrously formed friendship with the Lord Stark, had you dressing up and bringing your girls with him. So that your daughters can meet their father's fucking friend, one that occupied his time when he could have been at home, tending to his duties, his heirs.
And the woman who follows after the Wolf, the bastard Snow, his beloved sister. Dyanna had told you beforehand, as Lord Stark adores his only sibling. Their parenthood is unmistakable, dark hair and sharp chins. A Northern Beauty.
And then you stop, as there is a babe in her arms, no more than two name days at least.
And you see Jacaerys in his gaze.
His beautiful, warm brown eyes in the child in her arms, and as he stands there, your Prince of the Realm, too close for comfort, too close for platonic friendship, a familiarity one cannot deny— and that fucking, sweet-edged, tender smile on his face...
The same one he wore when you had given birth to his daughters. Soiled sheets, bloodied babes— it didn't matter. He held them to his arms with the very same smile, thanking you for birthing his babes.
A gut punch, a sharp inhale, an anger that coils and burns and roars.
Your bastard of a husband had fucked another bastard, and made himself a bastard little fucking family.
Life can ever be so cruel as it is humorous.
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Daemon could have laughed at the prediction you found yourself in.
He sits to the left of his wife, the Queen who— in enough of itself, the evidence of the turmoil the court is about to get under, amusingly is talking quick with her Lord Hand; Corlys and Rhaenyra had not stopped pointedly looking at her heir, words too fast but unmistakable what the topic is if their gestures, the knot between their eyebrows, and unmistakable sighs and determined noises.
He, on the other hand, is pointedly staring at you.
You, who tries so hard to piece together an armour of stupidity, an air of nonchalance. As if there is no anger in your visage at your husband's attention completely stolen by Wolf's little sister and her son... who looked completely like him. Dark colouring, the First Men blood thick in his nose, his hair, at the curled edges of his baby-cheeked giggles.
When standing so close, faces to each other, there can be no doubt a mirror.
Or the lovesick smile on the mother's face, watching the Prince of the Realm interact with her son.
Together, the trio of them don't hint as much as a bead of Targaryen blood. One is able to pretend they are nothing more than a small... brown haired family.
Daemon presses his lips, trying desperately not to laugh so loudly.
He admired the boy, truly. Rhaenyra loved each child from her bosom with equal fervor, and Daemon was prepared take him as purely one of his own... but after he broke the betrothal with his daughter (though Baela could give lesser of a shit, though mildly dissatisfied as she was to become Queen, and the girl held her duties between canines) to marry a Hightower cunt... he had distanced himself from the boy.
Daemon viewed it as a sign of weakness, for he knew you. You were just like your mother, prodding into softened parts of his family— that green whore with his brother, young as she had been, his good sister Aemma had not been cold in their memories before she had found herself weightily pregnant with new heirs, and then Jacaerys, new to womanly spells, new to cunt, and you had him making vows in the ways of the dragonlords.
Though he can surmise that much of your mother's movements had not entirely been her own... Daemon knew that calculative look you got in your eye. Blink and it's gone, but your gaze sharpens, your mouth curls in a winning, prideful little smirk.
You were Otto Hightower's granddaughter alright, and you had wanted the Heir's Heir.
But now, it seems like, once a vow broken, it didn't really matter if it was a betrothal or a marriage to Jacaerys.
It brings a sick pull of satisfaction in him, that tugs him to look at you. Every time.
You laugh, tither, still evermore the gem of the feast— a feast you organised with the Lord Hand for your husband's absolutely exceptional diplomatic achievements in the North, truly, Daemon is laughing in the sidelines as the jests and songs make themselves — but Daemon is overtly familiar with dragons. And anger. And you simply stink of it. The way your eye twitches, the occasional grind of your jaw to how your fingers dig crescent moons into your palm. He catches blood in one blink then smeared, then gone, in another.
Your hold onto your armour— the Darling of the Realm, curated so painfully by a young, sly girl moving about the cesspit they call a crown's court — is breaking in pieces and tatters at each hour the feast went on.
It snarls. Like a dragon locked in the pits, tugging at reins, wishing to burn cities.
Maybe you aren't just another Hightower cunt after all.
Not purely at least, he thinks in distaste, staring at the dark green of your gown.
It is a childish tantrum, more than anything, for what is your Hightower green will do now? A bastard has been made, worse, a son. And though Jacaerys himself has muddied blood, he is still a Targaryen. His mother is Queen, prepared to make him an Heir to the Iron Throne as he had been legitimised as Laenor's son. A Velaryon. He bears the name, the crest, and the support of its house.
What is stopping him from marrying the Snow Bastard, legitimising the boy as his own, surpassing your own daughters?
Targaryens marry siblings, they also marry multiple wives.
It is a thought that he can see it dancing in your head— raw, enticing rage and bloodlust that tightens his breeches.
It is an interesting thing.
The green is disgusting, but Daemon can appreciate a young, fertile, Valyrian beauty.
Something your mother had ingeniously provided you and your siblings with, reining in her muddied blood to produce unmistakable Valyrian children. And as a smart little tart, you understood what to do with it.
When Daemon first met you, you were just one of the Hightower spawns that his brother had made to further his line. His brother's daughters—apart from Rhaenyra — were quiet things as babes and children. Odd the two of you were, but not really hostile. When you were introduced to him, your fat babe of a twin brother was teary-eyed and clinging to you, a quiet child with round eyes, staring at him inquisitively, as if challenging.
Then and there, Daemon disliked you so.
Even as you grew, the little of what he could see as he paid no mind of Viserys' other children, you grew up a fine royal, a princess of every word and sung note. Mentions of your progressive fight for the small folk, your charitable heart, your sweet nature that even his brother had made a note once or twice—
He thought it had been Otto Hightower who put you up to such machinations. Wouldn't be below him.
The night you bedded Jacaerys Velaryon, he was pleasantly surprised to find out it had been you all along.
And now here you are, betrayed as you had betrayed his daughter, delicious in your righteous anger and ripe (two babes before the year ended, Jace is an inglorious fool) for the taking. And youthful still. Smooth, soft skin, pretty lips and bright-eyed.
All your scheming, going as far as throwing your grandsire to Oldtown, it is obvious no one has wrangled the clever, spoiled little brat out of you.
As he sips his wine, amused and pleasantly hungry, he muses he might do a job or two of being the strong arm to do so.
He snorts, eyes straying back to the little First Men family.
There it is again. The jest that keeps on giving.
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It was pride, truly, that kept you for most of the feast. That kept your gritted teeth to yourself, ducking into corners whenever your anger burned at your eyelids, stubbornly brushing stray tears away.
All is not lost, you stubbornly thought. You just had to plot.
But when Jace had taken your daughters, your Daenera and Aemma, gently tugging them to his bastard whore and his actual bastard to meet— finding your eyes, at that very moment as Daenera's precious, pureblooded hand shyly took the hand of her bastard brother, a fool's tender fucking simpleton of a smile on your husband's face —
Something in your head had snapped. A clean break.
And your armour had fallen. Like limestone from a fortress. Caved in ruins at the pool of your feet. Dark, furious loathe unfurled in your chest. Unable to handle it anymore, you had taken your dress and got out of the feast, for you could feel the urge of unsheathing a sword and going on a bloodied massacre, crowns and titles be damned.
You may not have a dragon, but you have its bloodlust.
Just as you are rushing to your chambers, you stop and make a different turn, knowing that if your husband had caught wind of such an ugly expression on your face, he would try and find you, talk to you, and you don't have the patience to cater to him at the moment— you find what you know of is an empty chamber, reserved for guests at the Keep.
It is a simple room with all the usual accruements. Most of the fanfare, the sheets, are in storage.
You start with a candelabra.
Raise it high before you are violently smashing it against the dresser, shrieks and guttural screams out of your mouth as you tear through the room like a typhoon, cursing Jacaerys, the North, and bastards to the Seven Hells.
None will be the wiser, for you had built your network well. Your spiders will pivot guards and strangers from this area, ensuring you a reprieve where your anger and grief can unfurl and manifest.
So you lose yourself, a dragon untethered. You get so into your rage, quiet in your thoughts, that you don't hear an intruder entering until there is a low, amused laugh too close for comfort.
You whirl around, tear-stained and rage-filled, and though the Rogue Prince expects you to fall into stutters, your eyes slit and you grip— when had you picked up a tome? — the tome tighter to your chest, snarling, "Get out."
Instead of surprise, or even offense, Daemon laughs as if you are the most amusing thing to him all night. Jesters and whores alike.
"I shall not." He makes a noncommittal hum around the dark room. "I rather like it here. It seems this chamber holds a much better entertainment than anything beheld at the feast."
You let out a dark, incredulous laughter. "I have no time for your toying, uncle, get out!" You toss the tome with fervour, but he's a warrior and he anticipates your anger, sidestepping easily before he's back to casual prowling.
"I do not have time to play jester for your entertainment," you hiss, unable to stop the hateful tears from spilling, brushing them away harshly as you watch him watch you.
He raises an eyebrow. "I am not asking you to."
"Are you here then for my humiliation? Press a bitter wound while it's still bleeding, is that it? Is that what would make the glory of your night?"
He snorts. "What would make the glory of my night is a warm body and a tight cunt."
Your face scrunches. "You are disgusting."
He barks out a laugh. "Not as disgusting as your brother."
"Aegon is no longer—"
"— or as stupidly naive as your husband."
A sharp intake of breath before you're once more cracking in broken rage and ghastly pain.
"Of course you would notice, who would not, he looks so much like his fucking bastard."
"Watch yourself, girl," he barks. "You are still talking about the Queen's heir."
A beautiful guard dog, you think, you snort. You push past him, gasping into the crisp, cool air, holding onto the balcony for dear life.
"His already diluted blood makes this conversation entirely hilarious to me I'm afraid." You look down and wonder how fast you will fall. How messy would such a death be? How much care there is left in your wake? Will your husband even care, now that he has his heir? Borne out of true love no doubt, despite such bastardly blood— or is that what makes it thrilling for them?
Mangled bone, spread thin blood— if you die such a way, it should be pretty. You hope it haunts the Keep of so many before you.
But if you die now, you will be replaced so easily. So prettily.
And your daughters—who will care for them? Will Jacaerys even care, if his bastards soon no doubt fill your once home, your mother, your brothers— your daughters pushed aside to make way for fucking dogs.
There is no satisfaction in such a plan.
There are many others.
The Rogue Prince makes his presence known by standing close to your back, close enough that you can smell him, that his heat is your own, as he hums, peering below as you have.
"Have you been drinking, zaldrītsos little dragon?" he whispers, tangling his fingers through your hair, running a lone finger down your neck, up and down in a tantalising movement. You can't help it, it feels comforting, leaning close to it despite such a breathy huff out of your lips.
"Since when am I dragon, kepus uncle? Haven't you always likened us muddied blood, filthier than dragonseeds?"
"I see that I am wrong," he says, almost idle as if he isn't devouring you in his gaze. How you feel soft, pliant under one finger after weighted in wine and the ruins of your anger, how you're almost purring and sweet like this, your fire alive but consistent. "Aōha perzys burns jehikagrī. Nyke hae ziry. Your flames burn bright. I like it."
"Hm. You've had sons, don't you uncle?"
"I have," he replies, amused.
"And many a children." You reach for his chin, your thumb rubbing his bottom lip. He's old, sure, but men don't have the same bodily issues as women. You know he could reach your father's age and be able to produce five more brats.
But his shoulders are strong, spry only as a swordsman can be.
And he isn't like he's loyal to Nyra, turning fully to you with a hand caressing your side.
His hand comes for your neck, halting your movement as he tests a squeeze. There is only much hatred as there is lust. And his cock is winning over his mind, for when your free hand, watching him intently, reaches for the hardness straining against his breeches, giving it a stroke, his breath stutters into a groan whilst his hips push into your hand.
"Dragons do not seek permission, niece of mine," he hums darkly. "Dragons take, or do you have too much of your Hightower cunt of a mother that you—"
You curl your hand over his cock until his breath hitches.
"I want a son. Surely you'd rather want for your true blood to sit on the Iron Throne? Your wife would remain Queen, her and her heir none the wiser. Any son of mine would be King regardless." Your voice is barely above whisper, stroking him as your squirm in his hold, his breath heavy by each promise, each tale you spin so tall. "Wouldn't you like that better? I am a Targaryen, as are you. Our blood would be pure."
"I have pureblooded sons, riñītsos little girl."
"But will they be king? With my husband as your wife's heir?" When his hold softens on your throat, you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him. "Wouldn't you want your family's legacy, your legacy, unsullied with prettier blood?
"I want a son, uncle," you whimper, thickened with need and desire, willing him to bend and fold because men like Daemon are easy, because a loving marriage is one thing, a man who holds his house as his pride in another fist is another. "I want your seed to take root in me."
And it isn't like you're asking him to betray his Queen.
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Daemon is surprisingly a soft lover, prone in a way to worshipping you even as you had gotten impatient and tried to get your way. His punishments are quick and precise, a hit on your thigh, a tighter squeeze in your throat, a firm bite in your breast enough to draw blood. He's soft but by choice, almost as if he is amusing you in each caress while one hand is holding you by your hair, fucking you down into the sheets.
His words aren't better, spun in hisses and spits, mocking laughter and groans.
"Do you want my seed, you little whore?"
"What would your husband say now, his pretty wife mewling for another? Or would he even care?"
"Your tears are pretty, if you want my seed, I think you need to be sobbing, hm?"
When he finally spills inside of you with nothing less of a broken, guttural roar, hips chasing the high, meeting your sensitivity once, twice, again— you are shattered in pieces and contradictions, floating and wide awake, pleasured and in pain.
He slaps your face gently after he's cleaned himself up, tucked his flaccid cock back in his breeches as he comes to your eye line. "Come to me again when you want my seed, hm? I shall prioritise your wants for the good of the realm but I dare say—"
He cocks his head with a smirk, feeling stirrings at the sight of your fucked out state, his seed spilling from your pretty hole that he can't help himself as he chases it with a finger, forcefully pushing it back in while your body trembles and twitches.
"— you may be with child soon enough, niece. I shall congratulate you and my son with the happy news."
Your eyes flutter close at the echoes of his disappearing footsteps.
Nine moons later, through a hearty, blood-soaked birth that rocked the keep with your wails of pure pain— much more painful than when your girls had come into the world — a baby boy is born of pure Valyrian colouring.
A fat babe who cried murder in his first seconds of life, and it is Caraxes who snarls and screeches into the high noon sky.
"I shall name him Daemon," you say to your husband beside you as you beheld the babe with a wondrous smile and a full heart.
"After your brother and my father," Jace says, smiling. "That is wonderful, my wife. He does look much like them."
Your smile curls, a finger rubbing your babe's fat cheek. "He does. And he will be strong swordsman." Your lashes flutter to Jace, poisoned vowels in each word that he blinks, startled. "Just like his father."
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TAGGED @inkareds @marihoneywk @caterina-caterina @ahristata @xxvelvetxxxx @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @bunbunbl0gs @yazzzmints @bellstwd @hiraethrhapsody @watercolorskyy @fulla02 @menaosama @cookielovesbook-akie
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ghosts-and-glory · 2 months
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Hey girl, you want mini references.
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(I actually hodge podged multiple unfinished references together and spent like three hours just cleaning them up but shhhhh.)
Fighting my demons not spoiling my own plans. Originally I had three other design sets going further in the future but had to control myself. I’m so so normal I promise.
Design Notes:
The Lamb does acquire the Red Crown as an adult (around the age of 25-35) but crowns cause the bearer to grow beyond that of mortals. As they age into godhood they grow taller and horns begin to grow and curl.
The changes to the Lamb’s cloak are made slowly over time. They do not wear any old faith colours (black and gold) until after Narinder is killed.
More in depth betrayal Narinder reference is here.
Narinder does have his talisman (excluding Not-Narinder) it’s just always hidden under his shirt/cloak at all times.
Narinder has a tear in his ear from betraying his siblings. Not-Narinder lacks this tear and the facial scar.
The design on chained Narinder’s robes is dried blood. Purged Narinder is deaf, mute and blind.
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wlntrsldler · 3 months
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i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace
fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.
athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)
series masterlist | previous | next
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fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 
“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 
oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 
he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 
luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 
“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 
luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 
luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 
annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 
“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 
“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 
the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 
“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 
you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 
you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 
you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 
the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 
“hey!” 
you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 
“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 
luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 
you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 
oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 
as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 
annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 
luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 
luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 
there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 
luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.
luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 
with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 
he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 
“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 
mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 
“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”
“yeah, they’re cute.” 
you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 
“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 
“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”
luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.
he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 
“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 
luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 
luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 
“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 
luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 
as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 
“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 
luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”
“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 
“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 
a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 
luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 
your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 
pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 
you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 
as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.
you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 
luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 
“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 
“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 
“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 
luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 
your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 
the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 
luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 
you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 
“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”
“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 
maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 
luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 
not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 
“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 
before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 
he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 
he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.
530 notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · 2 months
Note
A villain who doesn't want to harm the hero, is trying to take them down as gently as possible and thinks the hero is the one being crazy about this, while the hero is desperately fighting to protect the world.
Bonus points if the villain is the hero's big sibling or similar figure.
"Father wanted to put you in an institution," their sibling said. "There was no way I was going to allow that." They carded their fingers through the hero's hair, soothing, like they were still five years old and waking up from a bad dream. "Those places are awful. They'd hurt you."
"I can't move."
"It's okay. You're okay."
"The - the tea. You." The realisation of it choked off in the hero's throat. Sharp. Catching. Betrayal.
"I told father I'd handle it," their sibling said, almost absently.
"Handle me."
"Yes." Their sibling ducked to gather up the jagged shards of the fallen mug, depositing them on the coffee table. They met the hero's eyes. "Handle you."
The hero glared. They willed their noodled limbs to move, but all they got for their efforts was nearly crumpling to the floor again. Their sibling caught them, steadied them, pushed them back into the chair. The hero's heart thudded wildly beneath their palms.
"He wasn't having it though," their sibling continued. "He told me that you needed to be corrected, by any means necessary. He told me that it was just the place for a crazy person like you. That you'd bring shame on the family." They grimaced. "You know father."
The hero did, unfortunately, know their father.
They also knew their sibling though. They knew they were drugged up in their own living room, not being wrestled into a straight-jacket somewhere for some non-consensual therapy sessions.
"What did you do to him?" it came out raspy.
Their sibling smiled, small and grim. "He should have known better. Just like you should have known better, but you always were a little idiot, so no shockers there."
"...what are you going to do to me?" That was, perhaps, the better question. Their mind still felt sharp, after all, even if nothing in their body wanted to cooperate with them.
"Do you think I'd hurt you?"
"You hurt father."
"Father was a jackass. You're just stupid."
"I'm trying to make the world better!"
"Yeah," their sibling said. "Stupid."
"It's not stupid!"
"I'm not going to debate this with you."
"Just drug my tea!?"
"Eh, that was for your own good. For all his many sins, father wasn't totally wrong. You do need help. A friendly intervention."
"They'll come for me. My friends will come for me."
Their sibling shrugged. "I have no such reservations hurting them."
The hero swallowed. Their mouth still felt dry, sticky and cloyingly sweet. They searched their sibling's face for any sign of a lie. They found none.
"You know what father and his friends are doing is wrong," the hero said after a beat; maybe just frantic to see some glimmer of recognition of that fact.
Their sibling shrugged again, easy. "Sure."
"You could help us fight them. You could come with me. You could...keep me safe. That's what you want, right? To keep me safe."
"Your friends aren't going to kill you. You're perfectly safe like this."
"But what father's friends are doing - don't you - you have to care."
Their sibling raised an eyebrow.
The hero wanted to snarl. As ever, it seemed, their sibling did not have to care about anyone or anything. Who cared about the world if going along with monstrosity was easier?!
"Don't you care that I care?"
"You care about everything," their sibling rolled their eyes. "You held a funeral for the fish."
"He was my pet!"
"He was a fish."
"This is nothing like the fish!"
Their sibling straightened up with a sigh, looking down on them, hands on hips. "I've made my decision."
"Fuck you."
"I don't expect you to be happy about it, but you're gonna deal with it. You're underage. That makes you my responsibility. I'll let you go when this all blows over."
"You mean when father's friends finish wrecking the world?"
"Don't be so overdramatic."
"You drugged me and I'm overdramatic?"
"Overdramatic looks better on me. I have the cheekbones for it."
"This isn't funny!"
"No." Their sibling's voice shifted, abruptly. "It isn't. Do you want me to get serious?"
The hero...paused. The air suddenly felt oppressive.
"I am being very gentle," their sibling said. "And you are infinitely squishy and breakable. Father's institution would have crushed you into teeny tiny pieces, so shattered that you didn't even care anymore. You would kill your friends if they asked, by the time they were done."
The hero swallowed, stricken, horrified.
"Tell me again how unfunny this is," their sibling said. "Like you think I'm stupid."
The hero shook their head.
As swiftly as the storm had come, their sibling offered them a sunny smile. The tension vanished as they booped the hero's nose.
"We're going to get through so many film nights. It's going to be great. Now." They reached for the coffee table. "Have some more tea."
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
Text
Naive Sister
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Yandere Platonic!Percabeth x naive!little!sister!reader vs Yandere!Platonic!luke castellan
-♡ ask: Ok so basically it’s platonic yan percbeth (reader is Percy’s little sister) and reader sides with Luke and is like “I chose him!!” And they are like “lowkey nahh” @maria699669
-♡ ah honestly this is really short, but this was such a good idea so thank you.
-♡ warning: short, yandere behavior, sibling betrayal?, this is drama.
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he had left for too long. he hated to leave you at camp without him, but Luke swore to keep you safe. you weren’t aloud to come along, not like he wanted you to come anyway because it was too dangerous.
percy should have taken you.
you grew close with luke in the time percy was gone because he took you under his wing and reminded you of your big brother. he was kind, and taught you many things. even protected you from everyone! he told you the kids were acting nice but wanted to hurt you so you needed to stay with him. luke was your best friend.
his words got into your mind and took over your own thoughts. it was easy thanks to how percy treated you, poor you couldn’t think for your own. so when he told you how cruel the gods were and how dangerous they could be. even how your father treated your brother like a soldier and that was a perfect plan on his part.
“y/n, you shouldn’t be here.” Percy yelled as annabeth stood next to him with her dagger drawn. you creep closer with wide eyes at all the weapons pointed.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing! Go back to your cabin and stay there,” annabeth looked at you and tried to soften her features to make you feel safe, “we are all okay.” you bite your lip and nod along, you didn’t think of it and went to walk away.
Luke watched you turn your back, he couldn’t bare to lose you now. “Y/n, this is your time. Remember what I told you?” Percy glanced between the two of you. what was he talking about?
“The gods?” You turn back around.
“Y/n go back to your room!”
“No y/n! Remember the stories I told you? Come with me?” Percy tightened his jaw and glared at luke, wanting to stab him in that moment. You are his sister and he dare try take you away?
what surprised everyone was how you walked to him instead of percy. you grabbed ahold of his extended hand as the other hand pointed at percy with his sword. luke felt smug that you choose him. so he smirked at percy victorious.
“I’m going with him! I’ll make sure to be good!” even now you still didn’t understand what was happening. yet you sided with him? percy felt furious.
“you sly bastard! while I was out there risking my life you decide to take what is mine? I’ll kill you!” he stepped closer ready to lunge at him but stopped when you stood in front of him.
“Don’t hurt him! I promise brother it’s what is best, luke said so!” You point at the older boy. “He wouldn’t lie to me!”
annabeth got upset and rolled her eyes, “you think you can take her luke? in the middle of your war what would happen to her?” she moved closer like percy, “you can’t protect her.”
“Like you can? At least she will be on the winning side.”
Percy didn’t care anymore and went for Luke and pushed you out of the way, you fell to the ground with a cry. your eyes filled with tears at the small pain you felt and the two fighting before you. annabeth came over to check over you for cuts and patted your head while hiding you in a hug. she wasn’t mad at you, you were just too naive to see what was happening.
“She my sister now, Percy.” Luke smirks as the portal opens behind him, “just a matter of time before I get her back.”
Taglist: @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows @repostingmyfavs
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ch4singchase · 4 months
Note
can we get some luke fluff (or smut if your comfortable writing it 😩) i’m just in a luke mood rn
also, do you do anons?? if you do can i be this emoji?: 🩻
of course!! i was refering to asks about my fic but i can for sure write some asks in that case!!
I made it fluff, I hope you enjoy!!!
And also, I do anons, you're free to be 🩻 :))
LOVER | luke castellan x f!reader
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"Oh," Sam's voice, your half-brother, startled you, causing you to jump. "So that's what had been going on…"
Swiftly, you turned to face him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" Sam arched an eyebrow, nonchalantly chewing on his breakfast.
"No, I don't," you asserted, furrowing your brows while trying to focus on your own meal.
"Oh," Sam's voice, your half-brother, startled you, causing you to jump. "So that's what had been going on..."
Swiftly, you turned to face him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" Sam arched an eyebrow, nonchalantly chewing on his breakfast.
"No, I don't," you asserted, furrowing your brows while trying to focus on your own meal.
"So... You haven't been avoiding Luke," Sam's statement nearly made you choke on a piece of bread.
Regrettably, this time, there was no escaping the conversation. Especially not when your eyes involuntarily shifted back to what you had been discreetly observing from afar since you sat down.
Luke was in his own table with other kids from his cabin, you could recognized some new kids seated next to the head counselor. As usual, most of them were playing around and talking out loud, caught in their conversations to care about someone eavesdropping.
However, lately, Luke wasn't talking to Chris or any of his other cabin companions. Instead, every morning, an Aphrodite’s daughter has been sitting right next to him, talking for hours before they parted ways to their respective activities of the day. Or so, many would have thought.
Last week, you were training archery with others campers, you quickly spotted Luke, which surprised you. He rarely went there by his own, most of times he would go there was to help a new kid to discover their gift. But, that time, there were no new kid by his side.
For a moment, foolishly, you thought he might be there for you.
How wrong you were.
In the blink of an eye, the same daughter of Aphrodite was whispering and giggling with him as if sharing some secret.
That moment, for reasons unknown, planted a numb feeling in your heart, making your chest heavy. Since then, you couldn't summon the strength to talk to Luke again.
Every time you saw him, the memory of his laughter at the girl’s words haunted you. The same laughter he once shared only with you.
As Valentine’s Day approached, you were convinced that this time, you'd have a chance.
How wrong you were, indeed.
“Please,” you let your head rest in your hands against the table, “Can we forget about this? It's still seven in the morning.”
“Of course not,” Sam exclaimed, alerting some of their siblings, “I had suspect you were acting strange lately, I should have know that it had something to do with your crush”
“He isn’t my crush,” I groaned.
Sam looked at you, unfazed, knowing too well that you were lying.
"He has been trying to talk to you for days," your brother said. "And you always made us tell him your excuses. Now I know they were just that—excuses."
"Sam, please, can we not?" you tried to argue, raising your head just enough to stare back at him. "I don’t want to talk about Luke."
"If you're worried that he's going to confess his undying love for that girl or something, you're wrong," Sam teased, smirking.
"I'm not worried about anything," you retorted, attempting to brush off the conversation.
But deep down, you couldn't deny the unease settling within you. What was Luke up to? Why was he spending so much time with that Aphrodite's daughter?
Days passed, and you continued to avoid Luke, unable to shake off the strange feeling of betrayal. The approaching Valentine's Day only intensified the emotional turmoil within you. You convinced yourself it was just another day, and you'd get through it without any significant changes.
On the night before Valentine’s Day, you skipped the bonfire, trying to return to your cabin. Staying there grew more scrutinizing with Luke's piercing gaze following you. The best you could do for yourself was to leave.
Yet, a hand grabbed you by the arm, forcing you to turn towards the owner of that hand.
Luke.
"What happened? You've been avoiding me for days," Luke's tone carried a tinge of sadness, shattering your heart even more. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, you didn’t," you pulled your arm away from him. "Please, Luke, I don’t want to talk right now. We can talk about it tomorrow."
"Look, if there’s something wrong, I really want to make things right now," Luke pressured, taking a step closer to you. "Before tomorrow."
"I really need to go, Castellan," you raised your hands, taking some steps back before continuing your way to your cabin. "If you really want to talk with someone, talk with Sandy."
On Valentine's Day morning, however, reality hit you like a ton of bricks. Luke wasn't at his usual spot in the dining area. The absence of his laughter and presence left a void that you hadn't anticipated.
Panic set in, and you frantically scanned the room for any sign of him.
To make matters worse, the Aphrodite's daughter was also nowhere to be found. Confusion and frustration bubbled within you. What was going on?
Unable to contain your emotions, you excused yourself and headed towards the lake. You needed some space to yourself. The lake was one of the only places where you could think when everything became too loud, even your own feelings.
Usually, you'd ask Luke to go there with you; he helped you get your head back in its place. But his presence wasn't likely to help this time.
As you approached the familiar lakeside spot, you noticed something different. There was a blanket spread out, flowers arranged delicately, and a small basket filled with goodies. Confusion clouded your mind. Why would someone set up a romantic picnic by the lake?
You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to investigate further or leave. But a sinking feeling in your chest urged you to stay. As you got closer, you saw Luke, putting the finishing touches on the setup.
"What is going on?" you asked, wiping away some tears that were already gathering on your face.
Apparently, your presence caught Luke off guard. When he turned to face you, his eyes widened, and some of the plastic plates that he held fell upon the blanket.
"Hm, you weren’t supposed to be here right now," Luke scratched the back of his neck. "That wasn’t on my plan."
Your heart sank as confusion deepened. Was he referring to the Aphrodite's daughter, and you happened to stumble upon their secret rendezvous?
"I'm sorry," you stammered, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion. "I didn't mean to ruin anything. I'll just go."
"No, no, it's not that," Luke reassured, stepping closer to you. "I just wanted everything to be perfect, and, well, surprises work better when they're, you know, surprises."
You couldn't shake off the suspicion that he might be trying to cover up the real recipient of this romantic setup. "Perfect for who, Luke?"
Luke hesitated, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment. "Well, I... uh, I thought maybe you'd enjoy a nice Valentine's Day surprise."
The realization hit you like a wave, crashing over the doubts and confusion. But you didn’t give ears to it just yet, too afraid of the idea of being a fool once again, “That’s for me?”
Luke nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but you showed up a bit early."
You couldn't believe it. Yet, Luke sat on the blanket, silently inviting you to do the same.
As you settled onto the blanket, the air was filled with a mix of awkwardness and unspoken tension. Luke seemed hesitant, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that he might have misunderstood your avoidance.
"I've noticed you've been avoiding me," Luke finally spoke, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.
You sighed, feeling the weight of guilt settling in. "I'm sorry, Luke. I just... I thought you were… I don’t know, dating Sandy"
Luke's expression shifted to confusion. "The daughter of Aphrodite? No, she's a friend. She was helping me plan this surprise for you, but I wasn't sure if you'd like it. You've been avoiding me, and I thought maybe... well, I thought maybe I'd misunderstood something."
A pang of regret hit you. Luke had put so much effort into planning a surprise for you, and your avoidance had made him unsure if you would even appreciate it. You took a deep breath, deciding to be honest with him.
"I was avoiding you because I was jealous," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the blanket beneath you.
"Jealous?" Luke echoed, surprise evident in his voice. "Why?"
"Because I saw you at the archery range with Sandy," you confessed, avoiding eye contact. "I thought you were there for me, and then I saw you talking with her and… It’s complicated."
Luke's expression softened as he reached out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I was talking to Sandy because she helped me with the date's idea, nothing more. And... Well, I've always watched you training."
Your eyes widened in surprise, "What?"
Luke nodded, a shy smile on his face. "Yeah, I've been skipping my own training to watch you. I didn't want to disturb you, so I just watched from afar. I just... I wanted to see you in your element, doing something you love. You always have that twinkle in your eye when you’re at archery."
A mixture of emotions washed over you—surprise, joy, and a tinge of embarrassment. Luke had been secretly watching you, and all this time, you thought he was spending it with someone else. The misunderstanding that had fueled the distance between you suddenly seemed trivial compared to the truth that unfolded.
"I had no idea," you whispered, a genuine smile forming on your face.
"I wanted today to be perfect for you," Luke said, his gaze filled with sincerity. "I hope you like the surprise."
Your heart warmed by his words, you leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek, close to his lips. "It's more than perfect, Luke. Thank you."
As you both settled into the Valentine's Day picnic, the awkwardness gave way to warmth, and the day unfolded into a new beginning for yours and Luke’s life.
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xxwritemeastoryxx · 9 months
Text
Intertwined
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Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.
Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
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It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him. 
Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings. 
Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings. 
Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him. 
Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her. 
Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently. 
He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part. 
But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity. 
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with. 
She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to. 
They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?
That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of? 
The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore. 
The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out. 
“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”
Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly. 
“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”
She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”
“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”
Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe. 
He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so. 
“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”
Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted. 
“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here." 
After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated. 
Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark. 
Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not. 
She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?
It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.
Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured? 
Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years. 
She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that. 
At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.  
“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah. 
Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win. 
“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries. 
“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to. 
“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.” 
Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?” 
There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now. 
"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being. 
As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.
"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. 
She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon." 
With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue. 
"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is." 
"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through. 
Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time. 
Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried. 
Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing. 
That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel. 
Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there. 
Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago. 
Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.  
Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up. 
"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements. 
Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood. 
She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way. 
All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse. 
He had found his soulmate like she thought.  But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend. 
Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark. 
She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop. 
He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away. 
The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need. 
When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.
Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.
There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?” 
“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest. 
Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes. 
Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard. 
It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison.  While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had. 
"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised." 
"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”
A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”
His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”
“A small village.“ She responded.  “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”
He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”
“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”
That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time. 
But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.
Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.
Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts. 
"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt. 
Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "
The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door. 
The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him. 
He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-" 
"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made." 
"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me." 
She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it." 
She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared. 
She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade. 
At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop. 
"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything." 
"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."
Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would. 
"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-" 
"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life." 
He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears. 
"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly.  A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."
Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid. 
He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes. 
The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it. 
But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend.  The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed. 
After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”
The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words. 
“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”
A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.
There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.
“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. 
“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips. 
She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.
“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other. 
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u3pxx · 1 month
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PLEASEEE can you elaborate on the gavinners i cant stop looking at them theyre so pretty
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sometimes i forget that outside of my friends and servers, i don't really talk much about my gavinners boys* huh! so basically, i originally wanted to make them so i could beef up turnabout serenade in my roleswap au, kind of like turnabout samurai where you have a lot more characters which in turn means a lot more suspects!
but then i realized, wait, i need to make them in the canon-verse first before i could make their swap au counterparts! and so now they exist pftt
here y'all go, i'm gonna be copy-pasting the character descriptions i wrote for them during art fight pftt <3
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🥁 DEIDRE MINUENDO
Height: 5'7" (170 cm), 5'9.5" (176) with boots on Birthday: Jul 7 ♋︎ | Pronouns: He/Him, She/Her, They/Them
Deidre is the seemingly gloomy and stoic drummer of the band The Gavinners! At first, it could be difficult to get a read on them but despite all that, they're just like that because they prefer saving their energy. It might not look like it, but Deidre enjoys company even if they're not the most chatty with it and thrives the most when they are around other people (she prefers it if she's around the people closest to her though). Deidre is pretty sensitive and an emotional person even if they don't outwardly express it. To the people close to them, Deidre has a sarcastic streak and can be pretty snappy when it comes to teasing. She can dish it but she can't take it however as they can get slightly irritated when they're teased back. Even if they are a rockstar, they can get embarrassed when people praise or say nice things about them to their face, he tends to brush affection if even if he is secretly flattered by it (he's not gonna admit it though pftt) They also enjoy doodling here and there and like stuffed animals (they have a few of their own!)
Deidre was the closest to Daryan so the events of 4-3 affected him immensely. They felt betrayed and confused and tried to deny that Daryan would be capable of taking another person's life; they scrambled to do everything to protect Daryan from omitting information and even lying on the stand. In the end, all of their efforts were for naught and they felt incredibly guilty for what they've done, especially since she started antagonizing Preston when he was starting to suspect Daryan. They cut themselves off from the group, their job, and stardom. They ended up severely depressed and started to rarely go outside anymore. Only Doremy (Daryan's twin, also a close friend of his) was able to reach him during this time while Viva tried to but he kept refusing to see him. It took them a long time to finally be able to reconnect with the group and it took them a lot of help and support to be able to be well again. Deidre carries Daryan's betrayal to the group heavily and it took a while for her to start forgiving herself.
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⚡ VIVA CHI
Age: 25 | Height: 5'9" (175 cm) Birthday: Jan 1 ♑︎ | Pronouns: He/Him
Viva is the lively and energetic bassist of the band The Gavinners! Though he may seem goofy and a little unserious, he actually is pretty responsible and is the mediator of the band (as the eldest brother of his siblings and the eldest of the band, he kind of made that his responsibility). He's a forensic scientist and has always had an interest in science alongside music ever since he was young (he thinks Ema is very pretty but she finds him annoying pftt). Viva was the last one to join the band when they were all in high school and despite his extroverted personality, felt a little shy at the time getting to know a new group of people (it's because Preston was there who he may or may not have crushed at while in high-school.) He's a lover of all things caffeinated (especially energy drinks though he should really pace himself) which isn't always the best match to the fact that he's got terrible anxiety and thinks himself down a spiral when he gets too worried.
Once the band disbanded after the events of AA4, Viva, though left in a bad place with his anxiety shot through the roof, fared better compared to the other members. He tried his best to keep in touch with everyone with varying successes despite Daryan's arrest being fresh and hurt. - visiting Daryan in prison to hear his side of the story - popping in to check at Preston in his office because the guy started to take worse care of himself - contacting Deidre even if she was trying to isolate and cut herself from everyone and looking out for Klavier even if he buried himself in his work He took a break from music like everyone else, he still hopes one day they can meet up and play music again, not even as a band, but as a group of friends who loved creating music.
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🦇 PRESTON KEISS
Age: 25 | Height: 6'1" (185 cm) Birthday: Oct 25 ♏︎ | Pronouns: He/Him
Preston is the mysterious yet magnetic keyboardist of the Gavinners! Tall, dark, and bewitching; Preston is aware of the impression people have of him at first glance and likes to use that preconception to surprise and even catch people off-guard by purposely being silly or crass. He has a number of odd quirks and mannerisms that he doesn't realize he has, people tend to notice but they often let it pass because he is very handsome (pretty privilege lmao). Preston can sometimes be mischievous and finds certain things amusing only to him even if others don't find it as funny. He's always had an interest in horror and the macabre ever since he was a young boy which developed into a great fascination with the special effects used in old and new horror films alike. (He can be a bit jumpy when watching movies even if he loves to do it, he can't help it if the movie gets to him!) He plays up his whole immortal vampire schtick because the fans tend to theorize if he really was one. (He is not, he'd love to be one though pftt) Preston is very stubborn and adamant about his opinions and can be difficult to sway if he thinks he's correct; he is also quite awkward when it comes to personal matters, as can be seen in his strained relationship with his older sister and whatever romantic thing he's trying to achieve with Viva. He's used to acting larger than life when the cameras are on but being raw and honest has him feeling a little embarrassed and stilted. Preston smokes and keeps it a secret. (Don't tell Viva that!)
Preston was the first person in the band to start suspecting Daryan which he mostly kept to himself at first but wouldn't deny when you asked him (Deidre did not like that.) After Lamirior accused Daryan in court, Preston was determined to make Deidre confront the truth (unfortunately, not taking in why Deidre might be upset and in denial about it) which caused them to have a fight (with Viva being unsuccessful in de-escalating it.) After the Gavinners disbanded, Preston didn't feel very well after Daryan got sent to prison and lost contact with Deidre (whom he hasn't talked to since the case. [he misses them.]) He seemed fine afterward with his workload seeming to increase though upon closer inspection, he's started taking worse care of himself, skipping meals, and losing his interest in music. Preston has a lot of baggage to sort through regarding his friends and his family that will be difficult and painful for him to confront, but rest assured, he's gonna come out of it happy and well.
and here's a compilation of some very old turnabout serenade drawings too :^]
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(i didnt make dei's bday turnabout serenade on purpose, it was a tragic happy accident DFGHDJ i wanted his bday to be 7/7 bc i made daryan 6/6 but then the date. i realize the date orz)
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bosbas · 1 month
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Chapter 7: something gave you the nerve to touch my hand
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in Spanish, idiots in love-ish moments (maybe idiots in non-hate?)
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
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June 1, 1816 – A few whispers have been floating around about Lord Arthur Barlow’s whereabouts following his escapade with Miss Barrington at the Bridgerton ball, but this author must sadly say that she has no credible information on the subject. The Duke has likely paid his staff handsomely to avoid any news reaching the curious ears of the ton, much to our disappointment. While propriety suggests that his wedding plans to Miss Barrington should be in full swing, Lord Barlow is not particularly known for his propriety, and therefore we cannot assume anything.
Among other Montclair-related news, two of the Count’s children arrived in London yesterday: Lord Philippe Montclair IV and Lady Isabelle de la Torre, accompanied by their respective spouses and children. Is this unexpected gathering somehow linked to Lady Y/N's recent entanglement in scandal, or is it merely a coincidental family reunion?
You wrung your hands nervously in your carriage bound for Hyde Park, not quite able to sit still. Beside you sat Leonor, Philippe's wife, while your sisters, sitting opposite from you, observed your anxious demeanor with growing impatience. Isabelle, in particular, seemed annoyed by your restless gestures, her irritation palpable in the air.
“Y/N, for heaven's sake, it’s not like you’ve been compromised in any way!” said Isabelle, exasperated. “You’ll find someone else, and the Duke’s betrayal will be but a distant memory.”
It was easy for her to say; after all, her own search for a husband had been nothing short of a fairy tale. Unlike the rest of your siblings, Isabelle had had a love match from the beginning, and it only made it easier that Carlos, her now-husband, had strong ties to the royal family. Though her love story had been one for the ages, the fact that it had happened so easily was making her quite unsympathetic to your loss of a Duke you weren’t even properly interested in. 
“I might as well have been! Lady Whistledown is still mentioning my involvement in the scandal, and your presence isn’t helping.” You thanked the universe that your mother was on another carriage with Louis, Carlos, and Philippe, and hadn’t heard you being rude toward your sister.
"And why should we care about the musings of this Lady Whistledown?" retorted Isabelle with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“These English people treat that gossip column like gospel,” said Charlotte, crinkling her nose in disdain. “Though I dare say, Y/N, your predicament isn't as dire as you're painting it," she added, casting you a knowing glance.
"You two can afford to be cavalier about it, being safely married," you sighed, feeling defeated, and turned your gaze back out the window.
As your carriage rolled into the park, Leonor leaned in, placing her hand over yours. “No te preocupes, cariño,” she whispered reassuringly, so only you could hear (Don’t worry, sweetheart). “En todo caso, te vienes a España con tu hermano y conmigo” (In any case, you can come to Spain with your brother and me).
You smiled at her, resigned, but grateful for her offer. As you surveyed the bustling crowd outside, predominantly comprised of eligible men, the allure of Spain beckoned. It would certainly have better weather than London. And at least there was no Lady Whistledown in Salamanca. Though with the seemingly endless sources the woman had, you wouldn’t doubt her abilities to follow you there, too.
Stepping down from your carriage and walking toward the crowd of people in the park, you made eye contact with one of the gentlemen who had called on you yesterday. Though his poem had nearly put you to sleep, you smiled politely anyway. Perhaps he would be the first to talk to you today and ask for a turn about the park, and you would be able to finally relax in the knowledge that at least one person was still interested in you.
Though you hadn’t seen or heard from Lord Barlow since the Bridgerton ball, he still lingered in your mind. He ended up being just like any other man, you thought, annoyed. You hadn’t necessarily expected him to be the picture of attentiveness and love, especially not when you had only known each other a little over a month, but it was still disappointing to see how it had all turned out. 
"Lady Montclair," a voice interjected, drawing your attention to your right. Startled, you turned to see Colin Bridgerton, sporting an uncharacteristically earnest smile.
“Mr. Bridgerton?” you inquired. 
You had thought your dance two nights prior had been a one-time event, a small courtesy on his part, for Eloise, so you didn’t look a complete fool upon your re-entry to society. So why was he here now? Had he come here to resume tormenting you? You weren’t quite sure you had the energy for that today, already feeling the familiar flutter of nerves as you thought about how many men you would have to impress and the intense scrutiny you would face from the rest of the ton.
“Would you care for a promenade?” his voice, a gentle invitation, broke through your thoughts.
“A prom- What?” you said lowly, careful that no one would hear you. “You already danced with me once, and it was more than enough,” you assured him. 
Colin was fighting an internal battle. He was torn between still being absolutely enchanted by you after one dance, and the larger part of him that was annoyed that you apparently didn’t want to speak with him today. Yet, true to form, Colin’s more combative side won out.  
“Well, I don’t particularly see gentlemen lining up to speak with you today, so I rather think you might need some more help,” he shot back. 
You felt your face flush as you gasped in offense. “That is so patronizing. I’ve barely been here three seconds! I hardly think that amount of time is indicative of whether any suitors would like to speak with me today.”
It was true; Colin had rushed to greet you moments after you had stepped down from your carriage. But aside from the fact that he was embarrassed by his eagerness and trying to cover it up, he was not about to let up, not against you. 
“Do you think, for once in your life, you could engage with me without throwing a fit?” he asked you, anger seeping into his words. 
You were speechless, your eyes wide as you stared at him. Your instinct would have been to get mad at him, but unfortunately, he was right. You were struggling to let yourself be vulnerable with Colin, never mind how good of a time you had had dancing with him. But you were too stubborn to accept his offer to walk with him. You simply stared at him, your eyes swimming with uncertainty, and silently willed him to keep pushing you to accept his help. It was the only way you would allow yourself to do it, and you were relieved when he held out his arm for you to take.
“Come along,” he said, rolling his eyes. “For both our sakes, we should just walk to avoid a scene.”
“Very well, then,” you relented, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow. You were momentarily distracted by the feeling of his arm beneath your touch. It lit a fire inside of you that you weren’t familiar with, and you suddenly found yourself out of breath. 
“My sister can chaperone,” he suggested, gently guiding you toward where his family was situated. 
You could only nod dumbly in response, the flutters in your lower abdomen only growing stronger when he placed his hand over yours. Vaguely registering Daphne and Simon waving at you, you smiled and greeted them, grateful to have something else to focus on that wasn't Mr. Bridgerton's very well-sculpted arms. 
As you began to stroll, the Bassets a few paces behind you, you felt that your voice was stable enough to begin a conversation. “So, Mr. Bridgerton, indulge my curiosity and tell me more about your travels. Have you ever been lost at sea?”
Colin smiled at you, unable to hold back his fondness for you once again, and his breath was stolen from his lips as he made eye contact with you. You looked back eagerly, staring straight into him, and he was momentarily speechless. But you blinked, indicating that you were still awaiting a response, and he realized he had forgotten himself once again in your presence, an alarmingly increasing trend. 
After clearing his throat, Colin answered, “A few times, yes. Most unfortunate was the time we became lost in the twilight hours when it was freezing out, but the stars proved an exceptionally useful tool in helping us find our way.”
“The stars?” you asked, curious. Could it be that you and Colin had yet another thing in common? It was hard to parse who he had been with you the past few days with the man you had a rivalry with practically from the moment you arrived in England. Who was the real Colin?
“Yes, indeed,” affirmed Colin, his voice revealing a hint of excitement. “They’re actually quite a useful tool. Regardless of our whereabouts, we look at the same constellations, albeit from differing vantage points. For instance, if you look up at the sky any of these nights, and you see three stars close together arranged in a line, that’s-”
“Orion’s belt,” you finished for him, your voice soft. Then, seeing his amused, and admittedly curious, smile, you explained, “My governess used to take me outside at night, even in the winter, so I could look at the stars. I know a fair few constellations, and I always like to know which ones are visible to me.”
Colin shook his head in wonder. The universe was a cruel thing, to make you so perfectly suited to him and make you hate him more than you hated, apparently, anyone or anything else. But it wasn’t like he liked you any better, he reasoned.
“I’d wager you’d be a wonderful navigator, then,” he said. “I’m certain you’d never get lost in treacherous waters.” He had to physically bite his tongue to keep from suggesting that you go with him on his next trip around the world. 
You hummed softly in response. It never quite felt like you had a grip on where you were going. Usually, you just felt like you were groping around in the dark, desperately trying to find the right way to go. 
The promenade stretched on longer than anticipated, with both of you engaging in pleasant conversation throughout, and more than a few stolen glances. It was a shock, really, when Daphne cleared her throat politely behind you and Colin. You suddenly realized that you and Colin had been walking together for longer than was typically appropriate. 
“It might be time for Lady Montclair to promenade with someone else,” she suggested gently, a sympathetic smile on her face as she looked at Colin's crestfallen face. Turning away from you, she leaned over and whispered something unintelligible to Simon as the pair walked away back toward the rest of the Bridgertons, allowing you and Colin a few moments of privacy.
“Thank you,” you smiled at him, finding yourself slightly disappointed that your time together was ending. “I’m not quite sure I would have needed your saving again, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
Suddenly, you noticed a piece of lint on the lapel of Colin’s jacket. You reached over, almost instinctively, and picked it off. Your fingers barely grazed his chest, and his words caught in his throat as he saw your hand reach toward his chest in slow motion. 
The two of you stood still, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, one of your hands still extended toward him. Realizing your actions necessitated an explanation, you hurriedly brought your hand back to your side again and averted your gaze, avoiding eye contact with Colin.
“Lint,” you explained awkwardly. “On your coat.”
Oh, how could you have done something so brash? And in such a public setting, too, you scolded yourself. 
“I-Th-Well, I-Thank you, Lady Montclair,” Colin stuttered out, his brain short-circuiting from your intimate gesture. But you were already walking away, fists clenched at your sides as he saw you walking back to your family. 
Once more, you were intercepted by what could only be described as a horde of men vying for your favor. But, just like two nights prior, all Colin could feel was a pleasant warmth spreading through him as he watched you walk away, your laughter ringing like music in his ears. 
He knew what that was like now. To have you genuinely laugh at something he said. And it was different from how you were with these men. Even different from how you had been with the Duke. His heart warmed when he realized he had something of you that no one else did, and he wanted to bottle up your laugh and keep it in his breast pocket, forever a reminder of you near his heart.
A short distance away, Carlos observed with amusement as Colin stood there, seemingly transfixed by your departure. Standing beside him was Leonor, who had also been privy to the entire spectacle. The two often found themselves together during family outings, enjoying speaking in Spanish for a change. 
“La ama,” Carlos said to Leonor, his tone tinged with amusement at Colin's evident infatuation (He loves her).
Suppressing a chuckle, Leonor discreetly cleared her throat. “Y cuanto tiempo crees que será hasta que se de cuenta?” she quipped in response (And how long do you think it'll be until he realizes?).
---
In the late afternoon, you found yourself seated by the pianoforte, the pleasant notes of your scales filling the room. Across from you, your mother quietly engrossed herself in a book, while Isabelle diligently worked on her needlepoint. Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere of your sitting room was disrupted as your butler made an unexpected entrance. 
“Lady Montclair, a visitor,” he said politely, bowing slightly. 
Your fingers stopped playing and you looked toward your mother, who had a questioning look on her face. 
“I hadn’t been expecting anyone. And at this hour? Is everything alright?” she asked the butler. 
His face flushed slightly. “My apologies, I meant Lady Y/N Montclair,” he corrected himself. “It’s the Duke.”
But he barely had time to announce your visitor before Lord Barlow strode into your sitting room, hair disheveled and bags under his eyes. He looked positively ghastly, and you wouldn’t have doubted it if he told you he hadn’t slept in a week. 
He was panting and slightly sweaty, clearly having rushed over to your home for some unknown reason, when he took off his hat and crouched next to the pianoforte bench.
“Forgive me,” he addressed the other women in the room. Then, turning back to you, he roughly grasped your hand, placing a wet kiss on the back of it. You slightly cringed in disgust, not particularly wanting this man anywhere near you.
“Y/N, my darling, I am so terribly sorry for what happened at the Bridgerton ball. It was unforgivable. Except that you must forgive me!” he pleaded, voice full of desperation.
You were utterly confused, and more than a little angry. Who did this man think he was, barging into your home at this hour and demanding forgiveness? You shared a look with your mother, who looked equally as scandalized. 
“Lord Bar-” you started, but before you could finish, he interrupted you, grasping your hand even tighter.
“No! Not Lord Barlow. Arthur. Your Arthur. It’s me; I’m here. What happened with Miss Barrington was a foolish mistake, and it will never happen again. Marry me, Y/N. Marry me and make me the happiest man in all of Mayfair. In all of England, even. Please,” he begged. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Leonor leaving the room quietly, and your stomach churned uncomfortably at the idea of having to face this man on your own. You breathed deeply, calming yourself with the thought that your mother remained in the room before you addressed Lord Barlow. 
“I don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head. “What of Miss Barrington? She will be ruined if you do not marry her.”
He scoffed, throwing his head back and shaking his head in annoyance. “What of her? She is not as important to me as you are,” he said lowly. “I do not have with her what I have with you. I need you, Y/N. Please marry me.”
Letting the anger that had been slowly bubbling inside you take over, you snatched your hand out of his grip and stood up, towering over him. “Are you quite finished? You are completely unbelievable. I will not marry you, your Grace, and it is egregious that you would even suggest it. Do you truly have so little respect for Miss Barlow that you would leave her, ruined, as you married someone else? Do you truly think so lowly of me that you thought I would say yes?”
“Barlow, take your leave,” came a commanding voice from the doorway before the Duke could respond to you. 
With a surge of relief, you caught sight of Louis and Philippe standing firm with Leonor at their side, their expressions firm and determined, while she was looking anxiously between you and Lord Barlow. 
But the Duke was relentless, his desperation palpable as he pleaded his case, his words brimming with urgency. He stood up from where he had been kneeling and turned to face your brothers. "You don’t understand. I must marry your sister. I must!"
“I believe my brother asked you to take your leave, your Grace,” said Philippe, voice cold and cutting. “Louis, if you could be so kind as to escort Lord Barlow out.”  
Louis wasted no time, roughly grabbing Barlow’s arm and dragging him away from you as the man protested profusely. But your brother wasn’t going to let him hurt you again. It was bad enough that he had already done it once, but Louis would rather come to blows right now in your home than let the Duke stand in your presence for another second.
As Louis ushered Lord Barlow out of your sitting room, Philippe placed a protective hand in front of Leonor and pulled her behind him. Ensuring his wife’s safety, he turned to you, a concerned expression on his face.
“Y/N, are you alright?”
But you didn’t have time to answer, your father storming into the room with fury in his eyes.
“Was that Barlow I saw in the hall? Can someone give me an explanation?" he demanded, his gaze fixed on your stricken expression.
Your voice trembled as you confessed, still reeling from the shock of the encounter. "He asked me to marry him," you admitted, the words hanging heavily in the air. 
“She said no, of course. And put him in his place,” your mother added, eyes wide and fixed on the doorway still. It seemed that Lord Barlow’s unexpected appearance had been an unwelcome shock for her, too.
Your father placed his hands on his hips, staring at the two of you in disbelief. “Well done,” he finally conceded after a few moments of silence. 
You nodded meekly in response, not quite feeling anything right at this minute. 
“He is not worthy of you, Y/N. A title and fortune are important, of course, but so is honor. And he clearly has none,” said your father, disgust clear in his voice.
You’d heard this speech a million times, but this time the words rang loudly in your ears. A title and fortune are important, his words echoed in your mind. It was what your father always said, but this time you couldn’t help thinking: Colin Bridgerton, whom you had developed an inexplicable fondness for, possessed neither title nor fortune.
But as quickly as the doubt arose, you cast it aside. You reminded yourself firmly that Colin was not the sort of man a Montclair could marry. The reality was stark, and you refused to entertain the notion that such a match could ever be possible. You weren’t even sure that you liked the man, why were you thinking of marrying him?
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bamsara · 7 months
Note
feel free to ignore this ask if it's too spoilery, but what kind of sibling relationship did narinder have with the other bishops before the betrayal?
was it more of a "i have a formal obligation to you since we're related" or "gods forbid you ask me for a singular corn chip, but i would kill someone for you"
Def the second one. Please pardon me because I'm about to ramble for a long minute.
The relationship between him and his siblings are very much built on sibling rivlerly but also care. They might have had spats about godhood and domains and spars with power, but they still supported each other and cared for each other; when you're an immortal god, really the only company you'll have in the end who understands you is your immortal siblings.
They will scold each other, help each other, tease and mock each other, maybe playfully sabotouge eachother, but they were eachothers family.
I've put some hints into it in my fic so I hope it's okay if I explain/point out some of them:
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They helped each other with their domains and temples, respectivly, and sparred with one another, which is how I hc how Narinder is able to give The Lamb advice on how to fight them. They sqaubbled and bickered but it was all in care, and they had each other for eons.They were each other's support pillars.
At least back then. Now, there's a bitterness and resentment, not just between Narinder and the siblings but also the siblings themselves, possibly because of how the situation with Narinder went. Kallamar himself says to to kill Shamura and not him, and that it was not his idea to chain Narinder. Heket talks about grief and suffering:
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Heket's ingame dialogue:
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They both speak of suffering and grief. Possibly, suffering because of the pain sewn through the family when everything fell apart, and grief I can only imagine because they felt like they had to kill and/or chain their brother in the afterlife. Clearly there is love, or there used to be love in the family, and that love is lost or killed now. Suffering and grief. Resentment; because even after everything; Narinder, is STILL causing rifts and suffering for the family.
Kallamar's dialogue:
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Kallamar is absolutley terrified of Narinder, his younger brother, who is the God of Death, and states that it was not his idea to chain him for his 'ideals'. Possibly because Narinder's crime was to create resurrection, to undo death, which would be wonderful for somone like Kallamar who is so deeply afraid of dying and suffers from cowardice. I imagine that Kallamar did not agree with his sibling's will to chain Narinder but didn't have the spine to go against them when Narinder threatened to unbalance everything. Thus; some resentment.
Shamura's ingame dialogue:
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Shamura states that overtime Narinder grew discontent with being the limitations of Death. This is possibly when he began to look into creating the concept of resurrection, something that would reverse the 'absolute'. Possibly he would be very powerful with the ability to reverse death as many would seek that sort of safety. But it horrificly unbalances the nature of things.
How? The promise of Resurrection makes sacrifice and the fear of death useless.
Heket cannot control her followers with the promise of feasts or threats of famine if they can simply come back from death of starvation. Kallamar's followers would not fear disease or sickness if they were just going to revive after dying. Those who worship Shamura would not try to gain their favor for war, battle or knowledge if they were able to just resurrect if they lost. I'm not sure how it would affect Leshy's following, but I can imagine it's the same kind of outcome.
And still Shamura loved their brother, even aknowledging that they, the four siblings, were the ones to betray Narinder in the end. 'Of your own turned against you'.
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It was Shamura that made the decision to chain Narinder in the underworld. It was Shamura who blames themselves for planting the idea of change, that something could be better, into Narinder's head, and it was Shamura who realized that the freedom of change that was allowed to themselves could not be allowed to Death himself, and made the other siblings join them to seal The One Who Waits away.
I'd like to think that the siblings each loved their family, at least before. There's resentment and bitterness now, hatred from betrayal and animosity between not just Narinder but possibly a little through the four siblings as well.
That being said, Shamura clearly still cares about Narinder or at least thinks back on him fondly in the dialogue of the blame. I'd like to think that there's grief like Heket says, and the others feel the same. They grieve him.
And in my story, I'd like to think that Narinder grieves them too.
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So yeah. It was def 'a gods forbid you ask me for a singular corn chip, but i would kill someone for you' type of family, at least before it all went to hell.
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aryxchse · 2 months
Text
godly bonding day / platonic! hera x poseidon & percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.
a / n : people should give more about hera and her other siblings other than z*us fr. and call me crazy or whatever but i've always thought hera married the wrong brother 🤞🏻
warnings : hera apologist right here, poseidon and hera being sweet siblings, zeus cheating, maybe swearing
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"alright mom, that's it," you said, holding both of your mother's hands. "we're having a selfcare day together."
hera sniffed, looking at you with teary eyes. zeus once again cheated on your mother, and the gossip spreads around olympus very quick. specially when your mother has little spies that follows zeus' every movement.
instead of taking revenge -simply because she was sick of it-, your mother called you to olympus for cheering her mood. and well, maybe you reminded her the revenge she took from zeus.
"selfcare day?" hera asked, tilting her head. the goddess and queen of heavens was so vulnerable in front of you. and it made you think like she was a normal mother, who was crying because of her husbands betrayal. "what is that?"
"i'll call percy and we'll take you to new places in the mortal world," you said, smiling at her. the goddess sat straight, considering the idea. "who knows? maybe he'll bring poseidon!"
hera smiled at the mention of her favorite brother. "oh i love poseidon! he's the dearest to me." you nodded at her comment, caressing her knuckles. "i know mom. today is your day, we can't let a man ruin your mood, not anymore."
hera wiped away her tears as she smiled. "oh my lovely daughter, you're so kind to me."
"of course mom," you smiled. "come on, let's go."
‎ 🦚
while you waited percy to call you to say the suprise were ready, you and hera visited multiple shops and places. hera appearently loved iced americano with chocolate chip cookies. and she loved the style old money, since she had to change her clothes to more comfortable ones.
now you guys headed to some old but vintage beach, were percy and poseidon were waiting.
hera took a sip from her third iced americano, smiling at the taste. "i sure want these in olympus," she said, stopping to take off her shoes. "their taste is amazing."
you did the same as you took a sip from your own coffee, taking the shoes inside of your bag. "i know right?" you said as the smell of the salt water started to fill your nose.
you both heard percy and poseidon talk pationetly about something, but they stopped and smiled the moment they saw you.
"hey baby," percy said, hugging your waist and kissing your cheek. you hugged him back with your free arm, smiling immediatly. "hi!"
"poseidon!" hera cheered next to you, running on the sand to hug her brother. poseidon laughed and picked hera up in his arms, turning around with her. "hera, my lovely sister!" he cheered back. "good to finally see you on the mortal world!"
"thanks to my daughter," hera answered, finally standing on her foot but still not letting poseidon go. "she helped me open my eyes."
you blowed a kiss to her as you stand next to percy, your arm still lazily hanged around his neck.
"well sister!" poseidon said, turning her around to walk around the beach. "let's have some dinner eh?"
‎ 🦚
who would've thought god of the sea made the best meal?
you all eated happily together, which was a weird sight. you and percy never thought your godly side of the family would bound this much. but well, maybe they needed a little courage.
you and percy insisted on washing the dishes, letting the divine siblings have their moment. they eventually agreed, leaving you both.
you washed the plates and handed them to percy to dry, while watching your parents laugh together from the window.
"i thought hera would never smile," percy grinned, drying some plate you gave him. you washed a fork, chuckling. "that's because she has the worst husband."
poseidon picked hera up and throw her on his shoulders, running around on the beach like two little kids. some thunders appeared but the siblings didn't cared, laughing like crazy. you and percy started laughing with them behind the window, getting happier each second.
"she really needed that." you said quietly, giving the last spoon to percy. you closed the water and percy finished drying up the spoon, putting back to it's place.
"believe me, he needed that too." percy said, stading behind you and hugging your waist. you gladly appreciated the love, hugging back his arms and resting your head against his cheek.
poseidon finally put down hera but the siblings hugged eachother, hera's laughter echoing through the beach. the lightning get really loud, but the siblings made a middle finger to the sky, clearly saying 'i don't give a fuck about you!' to their most annoying brother.
you smiled. "appearently gods need to have a bonding day too." percy nodded, kissing on top of your head.
"siblings are siblings everywhere after all." he whispered, and you chuckled.
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xmalereader · 9 months
Text
Miguel O’Hara x Bunny! Male Reader
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|| Masterlist ||
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Authors note: I’ve had this idea in my head for a very long time now and couldn’t stop thinking about it! This is technically an OC of mine but tried my best not to make there characteristics too detailed or anything that gives away too much OC. This is also an inspiration from MLB, I don’t care if it’s a kid show I have a love and hate relationship towards it and had some things changed for the character, either way hope you enjoy!
Summary: Miguel was the protector of multi universes, what happens when he meets someone who isn’t a spider and is able to do the same, protecting the timeline and making sure that it doesn’t get destroyed, changing the future and clashing within Miguel’s line of work.
Warnings: Angst, reader is a hybrid, time traveling, semi crossover, not mucha of Miguel honestly, language, slight lore, betrayal, hurt no comfort, mentions of genocide, slight depression, enemies to friends but not lovers, slight magic use, miguel is a bit OOC, bunny ears and tail, slight fluff, coping mechanism, readers hero name is Bunnix.
Word count: 5.4k
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In his universe hybrids and humans co existed. In his universe he was a rabbit hybrid born in a large family with many siblings, in his universe he was seen as a monster due to the things he was able to do as a hybrid. His sense of smell was stronger, his hearing better than others and faster that a normal human being. He had the features of a rabbit, long ears and a tail big enough that reached his lower back, who he tends to have issues with whenever it came towards buying clothes for himself since most stores didn’t have much clothes for hybrids that he worked for hours making a hole big enough for his tail and to make sure that it didn’t pinch each time he slipped them on.
He was a normal hybrid trying to survive in a world where he is hated and possibly taken advantage of whenever rabbits fall into heat. He worked at a normal job and had a normal family until at the age of twenty he received a gift, heirloom to be exact from his great grand father who he watched him grow an eventually passed away when he was only a teenage. Y/n would visit his grandfather as a kid, listening to him ramble on about his past life and the things he saw and did.
Due to Y/n being a kid he would believe his stories while his own parents, even his siblings wouldn’t believe their grandfather as he spoke about time traveling and seeing their futures. Everyone disregarded his stories as plain fairytales or crazy due to how old he was getting and growing delusional that no one listened to him, but Y/n.
After his grandfathers death he left his will to the rest of his family, providing his parents and siblings small things. He never received anything that day and thought that his own grandfather hated him and that the idea of leaving something behind to the only child who listened to him was ridiculous. Only to be proven wrong when his grandfathers lawyer approached him that day and told him that his grandfather did leave him something, but was not ready to receive until he got older.
After years he finally got that gift.
When the package arrived he was quick to claim the box into his hands and dart towards his bedroom, closing and locking the door. He knew his family should be around to see what he received from his late grandfather, but something inside him was telling him to do it in private. When getting the package opened he’s met with a letter folded on top of a small box that he picks up to read, noticing his grandfathers handwriting.
My dear child,
I hope this gift got to you at the proper age that I assigned.
And hope for you to take very good care of it.
All those years you were the only one who listened to my stories of my time as a time travel and wish to gift you my most prized possession.
A watch.
This item will show you everything you need to see. It was once my duty to take care of the future and to make sure that no interruptions were made and to decide the right path that our world must face. I know this duty will be hard for you, but I trust that you will know how to use it. I only advice that you do not let this power blind you and don’t let others tell you what is right and wrong of your duty.
If you accept this gift then you will be in charge of our future.
Y/n had opened the small box that held a silver pocket watch, picking it up in his hands as he examined the outside before popping it open. Instead of seeing a regular watch on the inside a bright blue light quickly surrounds him, seeping into his body as his grandfathers life flashes before his eyes, witnessing the pain and suffering he went through, the glee of saving a future, the hesitation of having to choose the wrong path in order to save another. He saw his grandfather at a much younger state and the power that he held in the palm of his hand.
Everything went by fast that when he opens his eyes he’s still in his bedroom, panting heavily knowing that his life changed forever that night.
He figured that he watch helped for this moment only to realize that the pocket watch worked as a safe for his power that was deep inside of him, feeling it coursing through his veins. He kept the gift from his grandfather a secret from his family, knowing that they wouldn’t believe him. If they didn’t believe his grandfather than why believe him?
The hybrid would spend every night trying to practice his ability, which grew difficult since his grandfather never really left instructions on how it worked. He didn’t figure out how to open a portal until three weeks later when he was playing around with a ball and bouncing it against the wall of his apartment, bored out of his mind that when the ball bounced off the wall and towards his open palm, all of a sudden white portal opens, startling the poor rabbit with wide eyes as the ball disappears into the portal.
When first seeing the portal he grows cautious, primal instincts triggering him as his ears fall flat against his head while he nervous reached inside the portal, his hand disappearing and when pulling away he is surprised to see his hand still intact. It took him a few minutes to finally gain the courage and step through the portal where he finds himself in a white abyss full of different portals that showed him the timeline of his universe, witnessing future events before his eyes and being able to see the various outcomes of a future event. He’s able to jump from one timeline to another, visiting different areas and seeing their world before he was even born. The amount of power he had was dangerous and now realized what his grandfather meant by how hard the job would be. Having to keep everything organized, making sure that everything is intact.
Y/n first started off small, seeing his friends future and fixing their life events, picking paths that worked best for them. He sometimes felt guilty for picking a path that didn’t work out for them, but didn't;t have a choice but to decide a bad path in order to get a better one with time. He had the control of the future in the palm of his hand.
It wasn’t until three years that he made his biggest mistake.
His world was going through a war with hybrids and humans and the human government had seen the hybrids as a threat, claiming that they didn’t feel safe living, eating, or working with someone who was different to them. Someone who could do things that no human could and were coming up with ways to exterminate everyone who they saw as a threat. Y/n was only twenty three when he witness the genocide of his people, watching as his family and siblings were separated from him, being taken away. He climbed inside his burrow that night, checking the different outcomes of his worlds future hoping to find a positive end to this situation only to find nothing.
His people were meant to die and he couldn’t save them.
That day, Y/n stayed in his burrow, watching his world kill his own people until none were left but him.
Leaving him on his own without his family or friends, without the comfort of someone like him. Y/n had mourned for days, feeling so alone as he watched his universe future thrive without hybrids, watching as humans celebrated the extinction. The image alone hurt and wanted nothing to do with his own world that with time in the burrows he figures out a way to travel through different universe, alternate ones where his family is alive and safe, ones where he and his family never existed.
Even though he was suppose to keeping things small and protect the future of his own universe he decided to expand his work and protect the future of all universe, traveling from one place to another, hopping from dimension to dimension. The hybrid spent six years learning new things and setting his own rules of balancing out the future.
Each time he visited a dimension he made sure to keep his identity hidden, wearing a black and blue neon stealth suit with a hoodie over that allowed his ears to pop out from the holes he created along with a domino mask over his eyes along with a hole in his suit for his tail as he worked faster in the suit whenever he needed to escape a universe before being noticed.
The hybrid would also spend his time in universes, either trying to coexist or to stay in for awhile since he couldn’t stay in his burrow forever. He mainly stayed hidden on top of large buildings or found ways inside empty apartments in order to get away from the harsh weather conditions. He didn’t think much of his disturbance when hopping from universe to universe until one night he met a flash of red and blue.
He was visiting a earth-4837, noticing an error in the timeline that he’d been trying to fix only for his ears to perk up at the sound of fast movements, catching him off guard as he’s suddenly pinned against the ground, gasping for air at how hard and sudden the push was and regain his breathing only to come face to face with a larger build that stood before him.
“Finally caught you.”
Y/n can only stare with wide eyes under his mask, ears falling back against his head in both worry and fear as he stares at the mask stranger before him. It takes a few seconds for his brain to respond back to him as he tilts his head to he side with furrow brows. “What, what do you mean caught?” He asks, clearly confused.
He can feel the other man’s grip tighten around his stealth suit, pulling him closer as his eyes narrow down at the hybrid. “I have been chasing you through universe and you are always escaping me. You keep disturbing the universes.” He clarified. “Now I have to take you back to your proper universe.”
At the mention of being returned back to his own universe caused a switch to go off in him, reacting quickly as he grips the others mans wrist, using his own strength to kick his feet up and kick him in the chest, sending him falling back with a grunt. The hybrid watched as the masked man coughs under his mask and groan, placing a hand against his chest as he slowly sits up. “Shit, that was a really strong kick.”
Y/n finds satisfaction in the mans words only to gasp when he comes charging at him, making him move quickly and ducking away from his grip, reacting quickly as his instincts as a rabbit take over.
“I am not going back there.” He hissed out, ears pinned back and tail puffing up in anger while the other turns around to face him, taking notice of the movement of his ears and tail. “Those things are real? I thought they were some weirds thing that went along with the suit you wear.”
“I could say the same about those.” Y/n nods towards the strangers hands, noticing the talons from his finger tips. “Thought they were fake, but I guess they aren’t if you have a good grip on that building.”
His words cause the stranger to look over at his hand, talons deep into the wall that he had struck after coming after the hybrid and letting out a small laugh as he detached himself from the wall. “Now you listen—“ When turning back he finds the rabbit gone, earning a disappointed groan.
“Lyla.” He speaks up as the artificial intelligences appears on his shoulder. “Yep?”
“Find me the rabbit.”
From then on, Y/n’s grew careful of his work now that someone as after him. Spending more time in his burrow and less time in other universe and whenever he was in one he would make sure to stay in alert while buying himself to eat and keeping his features hidden from the public, trying to blend in with everyone else.
He figured that he wouldn’t see that same masked stranger again until a week later. He didn’t know how he got involved, but one minute he’s working on keeping a stable future and the next he’s being tossed around by a man dressed in a rhino suit.
“You okay? Whoa—never seen you before.”
That’s how he met the cities hero known as Spiderman.
His suit was similar to the guy who was hunting him down for some unknown reason, but this one was far nicer than the other. The hybrid got a good feeling about the kid and was quick to jump in and help him out as the two take down the rhino, Spider-Man using his webs to keep him from running off while Y/n worked on getting rid of the suit in breaking it apart.
“We make a good team.”
Y/n can only give a small smile. “Guess we did.”
The kid can only tilt his head in questioning and asks. “What do I call you?”
Y/n hesitates, not wanting to give away his own name and doesn’t know how to respond. The hero takes notice of his hesitation and is quick to step in. “I guess you don’t have a hero name?”
“I’m not a hero.” He is quick to cut in, his work wasn’t seen as a heroic thing.
“No worries,” The hero holds his hands up as he suddenly blurts out. “Bunnix.”
“What?”
“Bunnix, can I call you that?”
Y/n thinks about the name and can’t help but feel comfortable with it, finding it fitting. “Sure.”
That day he was given a new name by the cities hero who he later befriends. Y/n doesn’t tell this universe Spider-Man why he was there and what he did, only following him whenever he needed help and fighting off the villains in the city while Bunnix did his work on the side. There’s moments where he’s given the opportunity to save a future while working alongside with Spider-Man, fixing them without notice and when checking his work he left in shock by how much he is able to do.
Things were working well while staying in that universe and once again he let his guard down this time he’s met with the same stranger after helping Spider-Man fight off electro. His body was already sore from all the fighting and tired and all he wanted to do was get back to his place where he could lie down and relax only to be picked off the ground which shocks him.
Eyes wide as he frantically squirmed and looked up to see the familiar red and blue. “You!” He points at him with a deep glare, yelping when he nearly slips from his grasp, the rabbit holds back a cry as he climbs the mans body, keeping his legs and arms wrapped around him. “Hey! I can’t see!”
“Put me down!”
“How can I do that when you are blocking my vision?!”
The two banter with each other while the spider swings through the city, unable to see where he is going as he pries the hybrids hands away from his eyes only to see a building up ahead. The two scream and prepare for impact, but Bunnix is quick to act, opening a portal as they fall through it and opening another at a building where they fall on top of.
The same stranger groans as he lands on his back with the hybrid on his chest.
“How—?”
Bunnix scrambled off his chest, stepping away from him. “You could have killed us!”
“Kill you? You were the one blocking my sight!”
“You picked me up out of nowhere! Rabbit don’t do heights!” He shouted back at the man who slowly stood and rolled his shoulders, easing the pain from the hard fall. “Okay, I’m sorry, but also not because I am still here to take you back.”
“I already told you I am not going back to my universe.” Bunnix groans out, shaking his head while rubbing his temples. “I can’t have you roaming around universe, your disturbing them and I am fixing up your mess.”
Bunnix ears perk up at this. “Wait…what do you mean by fixing them?”
“Look, I don’t know what it is that you are doing but each time that you end up at a universe you cause a disturbance that can destroy timelines, let alone canons so I have to fix them—“ Before he can go on, the rabbit cuts him off. “You can fix them too?”
The others raises a brow. “What do you mean, too?”
Bunnix doesn’t know what to think, the fact that someone else is able to do the same as him leaves him in surprise. The hybrid allows himself to take small steps towards the man as he explains himself. “I can travel through universes without issue, my job is to fix the future and to make sure that no disturbance is caused whether good or bad its my job to protect it. I can’t go back to my universe because…” He hesitates before finding the courage. “My universe co existed with hybrids and humans and a genocide occurred with my people, I tried to fix it to find a better outcome of our future but found nothing and had no choice but to watch as the people I love die. I escaped and continued on with my duty and if I go back they will kill me.” His voice is full of sorrow and pain, not being able to read the others reaction towards his past.
He hears the other sigh softly, hand on his hip as he thinks. “That explains everything, all this time I thought you were an anomaly but your not your—your something else.” He finally says, understanding that the disturbances are the outcomes that Bunnix choose in order to improve the universe, at first Miguel thought that he was only making a bigger mess and whenever he checked on a canon expecting some mess he had to fix, instead he saw the canon already fixed for him.
Which only raised questions to the older man, giving him another reason to come after the hybrid.
As the two stand apart from each other it’s Miguel who speaks up.
“I’m not taking out back.” He finally says. “But I would be interested in seeing your work, perhaps you can help me.”
Bunnix raises a brow. “Help how?”
“You fix futures and I fix canons, together we can protect the universe from being destroyed.” His words intrigue the hybrid as he stares at the man before him, eyeing him up an down before sighing to himself and agreeing to his offer to protect the universe. “Good.” The rabbit flinched in surprise when the man’s masked is removed, dissolving away to reveal his own face. “I’m Miguel.”
Bunnix swallows nervously, but gains the courage to speak up as he reached up to remove his own mask. “Y/n.”
==
Y/n ends up working with Miguel in his universe for two years, being the only hybrid in base while everyone else was a spider felt off to him. Everyone knew him as Miguels second hand since he was their from the very beginning. Everyone thought that Jessica was Miguel’s best spider only to find out that its Bunnix. A simple hybrid that didn’t belong in any universe, but powerful enough to change anyone’s future and seeing that they couldn't.
His time working with Miguel made him realize how much the other spiders feared their leader due to his short temperament and the fact that he too had a beast inside of him. He once caught Miguel taking a serum that helped control the beast within him. At first the hybrid didn’t think anything of it until he decided to test a few things out, noticing how Miguel was sensitive to the bight lights and often kept his own lab under dim lighting, the noticeable fangs whenever he talked and now he used them in order to paralyze the anomalies that struggled the most. He already knew about the talons on the base of his finger tips, curious about them that he once approached Miguel and without asking he takes the mans hand into his hand and checks out the talons.
Miguel stares with a raised brow as the rabbit only hums to himself before dropping his hand back down and jumping off the platform while he continued on with his discoveries. Technically Miguel was a hybrid himself, but refused to say anything about it, Miguels own animalistic features bring some light comfort to the rabbit, feeling like he wasn’t alone anymore.
From their time together the two have grown comfortable around each others presence that Bunnix didn’t fear Miguels temper and whenever he grew upset about something going wrong during a mission he would usually come to Bunnix and rant to him, letting his anger out while the rabbit sat back and listened, watching the bigger man pace around the lab as he grumbled on about one of the spiders not listening to him.
Other times Miguel had grown to admire the rabbits tail, noticing how it flicked and twitched with each movement he made that without even asking his large hand reached down to touch the tail, fingers finding the soft fur while the hybrid tensed up. He’s caught by surprise and should yell at miguel to not touch him without asking, but the feeling of having someone touch his tail after so many years only brings back old memories of his family. He expected Miguel to be rough with his tail only to realize that the man was gentle, stroking the fur while he also concentrated on his own work.
It became a habit for Miguel to randomly touch Bunnix’s tail whenever he felt stress, feeling better after playing with the soft fur.
Their routine together grew and their trust for each other deepened.
Y/n only stepped into the whole canon issue whenever a screw up occurred, stepping into his burrow and meeting with Miguel two days before the moment happens, providing him instructions on how to handle the issue and what to do to fix it. Miguel had grown used to such moments happening, where the rabbit is hopping from past and future to present again.
The two worked well together and treated each other with respect.
As the spider society began to grow, Y/n started to see how alike everyone was and how their canons aligned with each other. He never questions Miguel as to why the canon events must remain intact or what would happen if one were to be broke. He kept those questions to himself while he watched Miguel command different spiders into different universe and getting the job done while also keeping the canons together.
It wasn’t until Miles came into the picture, he noticed a slight change in Miguel as their time together grew. The taller man used to be so blunt with him until he started hesitating that the hybrid started to notice. It felt like Ike he was hiding something from him and didn’t want him to know, as irritating as it was, Y/n would sometimes feel the itch to check his burrow, in hopes of finding his answer his questions, but promised himself that he wouldn’t due such thing. He could never look at his own future or know what to expect.
Bunnix had been working in the lab when Miles and Gwen show up alongside with Hobie, glancing at the teenagers while he works on a few of Miguel’s new gadgets.
“Oh! This is Bunnix, Miguels most trusted hero.” Said Gwen while giving Bunnix a soft smile while the hybrid nods in return before his gaze shifts towards Miles, noticing how the kids eyes widen a bit in surprise as he noticed his state. “I can tell from your staring you’ve never seen a hybrid before?” Said Bunnix with a raised brow.
Miles stutters out a nervous laugh. “I’ve seen weirder things.” The kids admits, avoiding his eyes while Bunnix chuckled and got back to his own work and allows them to approach Miguel. Y/n looks over his shoulder and watched as the platform lowers, rolling his eyes at how dramatic the man can be when trying to show intimidation.
The hybrid sets his work aside and turns around it make his way over to Miguel as the platform lowers only to gasp when a trash bin is thrown towards the teens way, causing the hybrid to react quickly as he grabs Miles by the arm and pulls him to the side, away from the hit.
Miles stares up at the hybrid who glared over to Miguel. “Miguel what the hell?!” Bunnix shouts, letting go of Miles once he checks him over and then turns his attention back to Miguel who ignored him and continued with his own rant. Y/n has never seen Miguel react in such way before, yes he had a temper, but it was never this bad.
The rabbit walks over to Miguel and jumps onto the platform. “What is going on with you?” He whispers low enough for Miguel to hear only to get a side eye from the bigger man a sense of irritation in his eyes before turning back to the teens. His actions only worry Bunnix even more, knowing that something wasn’t right as he takes a small step back.
His instincts were kicking in, telling him to run to hide, but from what?
While Miguel is distracted talking to Gwen and Miles, he takes the opportunity to step out of the lab, getting away from the others as he opens a portal and steps through, stepping inside his burrow and closing the portal behind him.
He’s surrounded by various timelines and universe, swallowing nervously as he approached one of them and placed his palm over it. Watching the scene before him as Miguel explains to Miles about the canons, fast forwarding Miles finding out about his father needing out die in order to keep the canon from breaking, from Miles escaping and Miguel chasing down the kid.
“No, no, what is happening.” He whispers as he steps away from the timeline and approached another with Miguel and Miles, watching as he chased the kid through the city. He can see the anger in Miguel’s body language, talons digging into the buildings and it sets an alarm off in the rabbit. He fast forwards to see the outcome, only for an additional timeline to show up, raising his ears in surprise as he moves over to check the two outcomes.
His looks into both outcomes, noticing how a third timeline appears. He’s never seen something like this before and it interests him as he checks everything figuring out the good and bad the right and wrong of his own choices that he is to make. When he connects all outcome together to create a new future he takes a step back, knowing that his next step could possibly ruin the trust he had with Miguel, but knew that it was the right thing to do.
It was his duty to protect the future.
The hybrid lets out a deep breath, extending out the palm of his hand as he opens a portal, jumping through and quickly holding onto the rail of the train that everyone clung onto. He can see as Miguel held Miles down, pinning him down as he shouted to the kid about how much of a mistake he was and how he wasn’t suppose to be a hero.
He can see the hurt in Miles eyes when hearing Miguels words only for it to grow worse when he finds out that his own friends knew the truth the entire time and never told him.
Bunnix holds on tight to the railing his movement getting Miguels attention, noticing the opened portal above them and hardening his stare. “I can’t let you go back.” Said Miguel, looking back to Miles as his grip on his shoulders tightened. “Bunnix, take him back to the lab.” His voice is full of demand, expecting the hybrid to listen and to take the kid back only to see no movement.
Miguel looks up to Y/n with a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Bunnix.” He hissed out towards the hybrid who can only frown.
Holding onto the rial he used his back leg to push himself up, eyes full of guilt. “I’m sorry.” He says, using the strength of his legs to push himself forward. “I have to protect the timeline.”
Miguels eyes widen when he finally realizes what he means, reacting too late as the hybrid uses his legs to kick Miguel off of Miles, sending him flying back. Y/n is quick to grab Miles, not letting the kid speak before giving Miguel one last look and jumping through his portal and disappearing from sight.
Both Y/n and Miles roll through the burrow together. “What—“ Miles starts as he stands from where he lies, only for his eye to widen. “What is this place?”
Bunnix grunts, getting up and rushing over to the kid, covering his eyes. “don’t look.” His voice is low and dangerous. He couldn’t allow anyone to see what he sees, not even Míguel had the privilege to look into his burrow.
“Hold on!” Miles starts again, reaching out to try and pry Y/n’s hands off his eyes, but Y/n tightens his hold. “You can’t see this, if you do it will alter the future and I can’t have that. happening, not now.” He is guiding Miles around his burrow, checking the different timelines while the kid began to ask.
“Why did you save me?”
The hybrids ears raise at his question before they fall back, forgetting to explain to him. “I know what Miguel is only trying to do his job into keeping the canons from breaking, but…I also have a job of my own which is to keep the future safe. I saw the outcome of Miguel’s doing and I had to fix it.” His voice is soft while leading the kid around, keeping his hands over his eyes still until he finds what he is looking for.
“Wait, so you can see the future?” Miles looks over his shoulder while Bunnix sighs, knowing his next questions as he opens the portal to where he is to take Miles, stepping through and into the rain. The sound gets the kids attention and his eyes are uncovered, looking around in confusion and then turning back to Bunnix who stood before him.
“I know you want to know if you make it to your dad on time.” Said Bunnix. “I know what happens, Miles and it’s something I cannot reveal. I decided that this path works best, whether its good or bad its the right one.” Miles is staring at Bunnix with a look of determination and desperation wanting to know if his own father make sit out of the situation alive and if he’s able to save him before its too late.
As Miles opens his mouth to speak again he is cut off by Bunnix holding his hand up, stopping him.
Y/n gives the kid a sad smile already knowing that Miguel possibly hates him for what he’s done. “Your path goes on, mine ends here.” At this point their is nothing he can do for him, knowing that Miguel will be searching for him and the only way to stay hidden without getting caught would be in his burrow until everything is complete.
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