🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Peter Solarz
KIROKAZE
JVL
Cosmic Funnies
Origami Around
RMH
we're not kids anymore.
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todays bird
h
roma★
Mike Driver
blake kathryn
Cosimo Galluzzi
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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will byers stan first human second
NASA
occasionally subtle
seen from Netherlands
seen from Netherlands
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Libya
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Nepal
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@rvnclwsews
Nigel Farage got milkshaked again, what a time to be alive
What an icon
So that's how one's milkshake brings all the boys to the yard
And they're like "you splattered Farage"
"Damn right, I splattered Farage
I could teach you, but you might get charged"
its rude to reblog things from people you arent mutuals with fyi. :/
💀 my brother in christopher
it's true and you should say so louder
I don't know any of you, hitting the reblog button.
There is no social or monetary incentive to have followers here. Your posts are like your children: you don't get to choose who likes them, and their friends don't have to like you to like them.
Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.
I’m curious!
Because there are professional writers out there getting picked up from obscurity for their fanfic work! And if you can get feedback for the little things your big project is more likely yo improve.
Inspired By the Song Liar by the Arcadian Wild
Part 1 of 2
Summary
I’m not in a right state of mind, I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight, but I don’t deserve to win it.
Callum and Rayla have lost three children, too small to name and he will do whatever it takes to not have to bury a fourth.
He’d been moved to tears at the sight of him, their very alive son. Rayla had handed the baby, smaller than he could have imagined, to him with so much love and happiness even in her tired eyes he could hardly meet them. The baby boy in his arms, he realized with a painful jolt, looked just like him. He had a head of fine auburn hair and five little fingers on each hand. When his eyes opened, they weren’t lavender like his mother’s but a paler shade of green. He had the small nubs of elven horns just like Rayla’s brother had had when he was born, and his ears pointed just like hers.
For a few fleeting moments he felt overwhelming joy, this child was his, theirs… alive. The baby fussed and whimpered in need of something it couldn’t understand or express and Rayla had quickly gathered him back into her arms. There had been a few other well-wishing visitors, but Callum had hardly seen them, and perhaps none of them had really seen him either.
Now he sat beside the bed, his back against it as Rayla slept. Their son tucked close to her sleeping on his back. Callum placed his hand on his baby’s chest, his palm nearly consuming the whole of his torso. His little chest rose and fell as he breathed, and the impossibly rapid flutter of his little heart felt like a tiny hummingbird in his hand. Callum’s heart thumped agonizingly, the guilt too overwhelming. He drew his knees up and buried his head in his arms and the fresh wave of anguish overtook him. He couldn’t stay in here with them, he was going to wake them up, and if Rayla woke up he didn’t think he could keep his secret. Not in his current state of mind.
With a deep breath, he rose to his feet and moved to the door. With one last look back at his little family blurred by his tears, he wrenched open the door.
She was exhausted. Of course, she knew she would be, she’d been through labor before. But the elation of holding her living little boy in her arms had made it all worth it. The fact that he looked so much like Callum had made her heart melt even more, if that were possible. Callum’s reaction to meeting their son was understandable considering what they had been through the past couple of years. If she had thought she couldn’t go through that grief again, it was nothing compared to Callum.
The small gathering of family and friends that came to see them had been overjoyed for them, wishing them congratulations and excitedly talking about the new baby. It didn’t escape Rayla’s notice that Callum was there, but he wasn’t there.
“Hey,” she’d said when they were alone again with their boy. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” he looked up from the baby asleep in his arms. “Oh, sure. I’m fine. But what about you? You must be exhausted.” And he was right… “You should get some rest; he has the right idea.” He smiled but she could see it didn’t reach his eyes. But she was really tired, and worn out, and foggy minded, and all the things that new mothers were supposed to feel. So, she’d yielded and decided to address it later when she could pick a proper argument if need be.
Now she lay there, her eyes closed and breathing controlled. It was incredibly difficult to fool a sky mage when it came to her breath, but he wasn’t paying her any attention. She could hear his breath hitch and a stifled sob rip forth from his chest. Before long he rose and left the room altogether. Once she heard the door close, she waited all of two breaths before rising. She moved her little boy to the middle of their large bed and threw on a long dark teal dressing gown before slipping out after him.
The halls were quiet and lit with torchlight as she strode quietly through them. She didn’t know for sure where he had gone, but she figured his office would be a good place to start. She pushed open the door on to the open rampart that led to the High Mage’s tower. Now she knew he had gone that way, his fresh footprints left in the dusting of snow on the stone.
She moved quickly across the rampart, her bare feet freezing on the icy stone, the wintery wind tossing her loose silver hair around her face and shoulders. Quickly but silently she slipped into the tower. It was quiet. She stepped closer to the office door and listened, one pointed ear to the door: nothing. She pushed it open, expecting maybe he was only reading, but the office was vacant.
The large portrait on the wall that had been used to hide Viren’s diabolical dungeon was gone. A door had been put in its place. The dungeon had become a place for Callum to keep the things he felt were dark magic related, things he didn’t want in circulation lest another potential dark mage find them and seek to change their fortune. Now Rayla noticed that it was ajar. She arched an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Callum never ventured into that space, but something in her stomach twisted in an uncomfortable way. She could hear noises, very faint, coming from the doorway.
She approached it cautiously, listening to the sounds become clearer as she stepped through it and into the torchlit corridor. Fits of commotion broke the brief silences, the whump of heavy objects, the fluttering of parchment… the musical smashing of glass and porcelain. And then there was Callum’s voice, ragged and feral sounding, yelling in frustration and something else… pain? She reached the bottom of the steps, sure of what she would be met with now.
He was a mess. His hands were splayed against the table, elbows locked to hold up is sagging shoulders and hanging head. His dark hair was disheveled around his face. His white linen shirt was stained and hanging loosely around his body, his chest heaving in and out. After a couple of breaths another frustrated yell rose from some deep anguished part of him. He shoved the table away violently, and Rayla couldn’t watch him fall apart any further.
“Callum! What are you doing?” She took a couple of steps towards him. The glass in her feet stung but she hardly noticed it. His head snapped up and the look on his face was seared into her memory. Some deep hurt and rage and fear lived there now in the once sunny face of her love. He sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, still breathing rapidly. She quickly closed the space between them and took a knee in front of him.
“Hey, Callum,” She pulled his hands from his face and pushed his dark hair back, “what is it?” She lifted his face to look at her, pushing the last of his hair back and holding his face with both hands. She stared pointedly into his green eyes. He seemed to deflate in front of her. He took her hands from his face and held them in his lap, looking down at them. Their matching gold bands flashed in the torchlight.
“It’s- it’s blood magic.” He whispered.
“What?” Rayla replied, not following just yet, though she was worrying that his behavior meant he’d done blood magic.
“The baby… I- I couldn’t. Rayla, I couldn’t watch you do it again.” He took a shuddering breath, still staring into their hands. “I couldn’t bury another one.” Ice ran in her veins as the implication of his confession dawned on her. She pulled her hands back from his before she could even think of what she was doing.
“What did you do?” She whispered, rising to her feet. He didn’t try to hold her close or stop her, only stayed there, frozen in his guilt. He explained, quietly, tears falling into his lap as he refused to look at her. Her breath seemed to escape her, words failed her. Blood for blood, year for year. That’s what he’d said.
“Who’s blood?” She asked, barely audible. For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her. Finally he laughed humorlessly and replied: Mine. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stand in that dungeon another second. She backed away and bolted up the stairs, her need to collect her small and helpless child close and guarded was suddenly overwhelming. For some reason the danger seemed so much more omnipresent, another thing she couldn’t protect him from, any of them from.
She didn’t hear him pursuing her as she strode through the tower or back out to the rampart. The full moon shone bright now, her body felt electric and alive in it’s light but she still somehow felt numb in the cold of what she knew. Blood for blood he’d said. Somehow he’d used his own blood to give them a living child. Year for year. What did that mean? For every year their son lives would Callum have one less?
“Dummy!” She sobbed to the empty night, angry and hurt, and scared for the now two men she loved more than life itself.
What basically happened:
Rayla: This is bullshit! Do you want to die!?
Callum: Sweetie... this is the Queen you can't swear around her.
Rayla: We'll die unless we do this!
Callum: Um... okay, I'll just...
Callum: Time to intervene before you go off and say something bad!
Callum: We're just asking for help, isn't that right Rayla?
Rayla: ...
Callum: Rayla?
Rayla: ...
Callum: Work with me here...
Rayla: Yes.
A few moments later
Callum: This is bullshit!
Rayla: I know, that's what I was saying!
Callum: Then let's do something as dangerous as we always do.
Rayla: I'm listening.
Callum: Are you willing to break some laws?
Rayla: All the time.
I love the idea of Prince definitely raised to be a court diplomat Callum and his future wife, Lady runs her fucking mouth Rayla!
"Ideas live forever. The willingness to write them, not so much" (or something like that)
That’s it. That’s the experience.
Reblog to heal the heart of the person you reblogged this from.
“it’s weird for queer minors to be friends with queer adults” oh my god. ohhh my god.
intergenerational community support, especially in a community that is split so much age wise as the queer community, is immensely fucking important. get to know older queers and younger queers. this is how communities frazzle out and die to infighting.
the hypothetical queer adult that people are mad over in the post this is refrencing is 35 years old. only 35.
its weird for any minors to be friends with any adults, queer or not. There should be no reason why unrelated adults or minors should be making close relationships in any sense outside of professional ones. I understand wanting education, but they can be taught when they are adults as well.
is this a joke.
Ahh yes, the internet purity culture is on the rise again, assuming that any engagement with another person be it real or fictional must be inherently sexual in nature and therefore all people must sequester themselves from anyone outside their narrowly defined category lest they be judged and condemned for being a goddamn person!
We've all been out here for years imagining the Rayllum halfling child and the first halfling we get is whatever the fuck THIS is.
I have a head cannon that Callum and Rayla don't get married so quickly. They are happy with being regular Callum and Regular Rayla, but they know a marriage will solidify them as Prince and Princess and bring a new host of geopolitical strife with it. But they do end up married eventually and the engagement goes something like this:
Callum: I want to marry you, and I get that you saying yes means I get a wife but you get a husband AND a title and that's a lot to ask of you. I completely understand if you don't want that responsibility... But I want you to be my wife... And my princess..."
Rayla: you want me to wear a crown for you."
Callum: only a very little one. And besides, you'll be overshadowed by whomever Ezran chooses to bring into his life.
Rayla *with mock drama* but I am the elven princess of Katolis and I will not be overshadowed! I will outlive you all!
Callum *excitedly starts running away*
Rayla: are you running off to tell your brother?!
Callum: of course I'm going to tell my brother! I'M GETTING MARRIED! *He yells for the whole ass courtyard*
Rayla *to Callum's back* I CAN TAKE IT BACK Y'KNOW! I DON'T EVEN HAVE THE RIGHT FINGER FOR THIS RING! CALLUM!
When your seven year old looks at you and says, "I think Bill Cipher is one of the other Archivists that was mean to the Collector."
We know Nico had a pirate phase and then Mythomagic became his next hyper fixation.
But I think it was actually probably more than just the card game. All of mythology was probably his new thing to geek about and the card game was just part of that
And he didn't grow out of the mythology phase at all. He knows more mythological creatures and gods than, like, anyone. Even gods themselves don't know as much as he does when it comes to other niche gods that have long been forgotten.
And, like, it's not weird necessarily to other people at first because they're demigods and such have to know a bit about mythology to survive. But he knows... so much. And he probably has to stop himself from info-dumping like 90% of the time.
He'd be like "okay, okay. I'll only bring up these fun facts when it's relevant" but it's ALWAYS relevant because they're demigods and mythology is real. I bet on his 3rd date with Will he started talking about Mesopotamia gods and went like two hours before realizing he'd been talking nonstop and then got all embarrassed and apologized and Will was just like "im going to marry him"
Nico is the only one who gives Persephone proper reverance because he's the only one that recognizes her epithet of, 'dread Persephone' and fully accepts that she is truly a queen in his father's realm.
Adult Nico head cannon: Nico gets interested in med school stuff while Will is there but has no interest in working with the living. He gives them weird vibes, etc. So he ends up becoming the medical examiner like Ducky in NCIS and he really can communicate with the dead. So they share what happened to them quite often and Nico has to pretend that he learned more from the autopsy than he really did because he can't tell the mortal agents how he knows exactly what happened. He just has to gently nudge them in the right direction.
This was purely for fun. I just think it would be funny.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jason Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano Characters: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Jason Grace, Octavian (Percy Jackson) Summary:
A Roman can be raised to Praetor by the Legion, but most are elected to their position. Jason was raised to power but Reyna fought for it from the day she entered Camp Jupiter. After the childhood she suffered she swore on Jupiter's stone that she would never settle for less than the very top. Getting there will be nothing but trials, enemies, traitors, blood, and gold.
Hey all, I've written a Will Solace
One shot, check it out. Feedback is loved!
Summary: After the Battle of Manhattan a young and world weary Will Solace seeks some comfort from his mother and struggles with whether the life of a demigod is even really worth it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
nico di angelo does not listen to emo/grunge bands like mcr or nirvana — they scare him.
he listens to old war time music and 2014 ariana grande, no i do not take criticism
I too have head canons about Nico's music taste. I think he would be most fond of wartime classics but also find some fondness for the Rolling Stones and similar era music. Sort of a nostalgic love of the music of his childhood and a familiarity in the lyrics and tone of classic rock music. I've clearly thought way too much about this...
