Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Reincarnation, Non-Linear Narrative, Angst and Tragedy, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Feels, Badass Porchay Pichaya Kittisawat, Kim Khimhant Theerapanyakun is So Whipped, Minor Porsche Pachara Kittisawat/Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakun, no beta we die like [redacted]
Summary:
Kim is an old vampire just going about his life. Porchay just wants to find his brother (and pay the rent loan).
oh fuck oh shit!! thanks bud!!!
oc pairing: flonita; titled: Hair Ritual.
want some writings from me? dialogue prompts here!
Hair is a ritual of sorts.
People tend their hair, brush their hair, and care for their hair. It is a ritual that hoped its results provided... good. Pretty. Beautiful. Handsome. Cool. Amazing.
Sort of obvious compliments and it’s great! It’s wonderful, but not to Anita. Their hair is long and unkempt. Wavy in its many directions and it was... Hard to care for it. But the day they finally had it, grabbed Tristan off their computer and shoves the hair clipper into their hands with a protest of “What the fu--”
“Do it,” Anita insisted as they sat in front of them and when Tristan asked ‘Are you sure?’, Anita was frustrated and stared at their cousin. It shut them up and the buzzing started.
-
Hair is a ritual for someone that looks good. Someone like Florencia liked to keep her hair touching the shoulders of hers and keep it messy and wavy in a way that runs in the family. Her parents were full of curls and waviness and she likes to keep it the way. She admires her roots, and always will.
She absolutely loves it.
Not until she meets Anita, not until she gets to know them after two years, not until she almost dropped the apple that causes her mother-- Felicia-- to scold her softly for that, but she ignores that. Florencia instead stares at Anita.
Two years ago, Anita had this long, wavy hair that Florencia wants to touch and brushes through. She did by then and still does. But now? When she sees them, looking rather... confident.
Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. Everything about them had made Florencia’s heart swell more and more.
She walks toward them, her eyebrow rises a little as she looks at Anita. Without thinking, without hesitation, Florencia raises her hand and brushes Anita’s rather short hair and the first thing that came out of her mouth.
“Your hair is... so soft.”
The words come soft and quiet as her hazel eyes focus on Anita.
Anita looks at her and their eyes widen, cheeks flustered, and a number of stuttering words that had so much explanation that Florencia brushes them aside, and she grab Anita’s face, her fingers still touching the shaved sides of Anita’s. The bang is slicked backward, in a way she can see their face as a whole.
Anita shrugs out of embarrassment and out of blushing.
“Are... you okay with this?”
Florencia looks at Anita, their eyes worried and biting their lip in worry. She laughs breathlessly and--
“Are you kidding me, Anita? You’re... You’re so fucking handsome.” And ended it with a kiss.
The Time of Renewal has come.
Porsche was born with no magic in a tribe of magic users whose numbers have been dwindling, and whose hold on their ancestral land relies on their treaty with Theera. This makes him the perfect candidate. Hopefully, his future wife won't mind that he can't use magic.
Kim is the youngest son of the royal family of Theera. As the spare to the spare, he is largely considered useless by most, including his father, and he prefers it that way. Unfortunately, it also makes him the perfect candidate. He'll have to make it clear to his new wife that they are to spend as little time together as possible.
Porchay has no intention of letting his beloved brother go off and marry someone alone.
Kinn was just trying to survive his diplomacy lessons and never expected to fall for his brother's betrothed.
What should have been a straightforward loveless arranged marriage gets thrown into chaos when the "bride" turns out to be a man and falls in love with his royal groom's brother. Meanwhile, the royal groom's eye gets turned to the young apprentice accompanying his spouse-to-be.
Intrigues of the court only serve to complicate things further.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
This story was originally started for the Tropetember 2024 prompt "Arranged Marriage":
Character A’s family wants/needs an alliance with Character B’s tribe/kingdom, and the easiest way to do this is to form a marriage between their families, with A & B being the chosen sacrifices.
It has been languishing in my WIPs since November 2024... For some reason, inspiration struck and I wrote 6k over the last 3 days, bringing this story to a little over 10k.
First fanfic line tag meme. I was tagged by @snickerdoodlles 😘 thank you lovely 😊
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have less!) & tag 10 people.
You're the One that I Want - "Wow. They really cranked up the AC in here," Chay mutters as he watches his favorite singer—who Chay will swear made eye contact with him just a moment ago—answer some prepared questions in front of the mix of university and hopeful high school students.
The Remote Debacle - "P'Kim, I can't find the remote," Chay whines from the couch.
Robot Boy - It's been a few months now since Porsche disappeared with only a letter left behind.
Dawn Dreaming - Chay wakes up feeling warm in a way that has nothing to do with the muggy heat he has come to associate with their air-conditioning breaking down again.
Fake Dating for Dummies - After waiting a few weeks for Porchay to respond to the song he sent him, Kim realized it wasn't going to happen, got completely drunk off his ass in the security of his own apartment, and then got back to work.
Just you lying close - It's been months since Chay decided to forgive Kim for the heartbreak he put him through.
Message Failed to Send. Please Retry. - Porchay's introduction to the mafia world was done through his first kidnapping.
Kim's horrible, no good, very weird day - Kim watches the other who looks like him, the one who is living in Kim's apartment—his hard won symbol of independence from his father—and seethes.
Kim's Flower Problem - Kim has had that itch in his throat since he moved out of the main family house.
Cook with the Stars - When Chay signed up for the new show Cook With The Stars, he expected it to be an easy way to get some exposure for his struggling restaurant.
In a turn of events that will surprise exactly no one, most of these are KimChay 😅 (the only exception is n°8 which is Kim centric and only briefly mentions KimChay being a thing).
Bonus: cookie did wips instead of published fics. I decided to do the regular one with bonus wip 😋 so, in alphabetical order of the files on my drive:
Chay! On Ice (YOI AU) - "Hey, Mae," Chay greets her as soon as she picks up the video call.
Crow's nest (witch!Chay AU) - Chay isn't sure how long Uncle has been gone.
Untitled KimChay vampire AU - The boy sitting at the bar can't be much older than eighteen, if that.
Tsurugi (FF7 AU) - Porsche is an orphan.
no way back (part 10 of the "need you to believe" 'verse) - Porsche walks into the ginormous fucking tower masquerading as a house that is going to be his new place of employment.
take me inside (and let me live in your mind) (FF16*) - He curves his body over Jill's as best as he can, hoping to spare her the worst of the blows that the horde of Ironblood heading towards them is sure to rain down on them.
Marriage, Magic, and Mayhem (Arranged Marriage AU) - "I'm sorry, baby, I wish there was another way."
* my only non-kp wip... despite the title being from wdys 😅
I have no idea who has and hasn't already been tagged in this so feel free to consider yourself tagged if you want to do it ✨
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/6
Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Porchay Pichaya Kittisawat/Kim Khimhant Theerapanyakun
Characters: Porchay Pichaya Kittisawat, Kim Khimhant Theerapanyakun, Background & Cameo Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, 5+1 Things, Fluff and Feels, Developing Relationship, Communication, Romantic Soulmates, Minor Porsche Pachara Kittisawat/Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakun, Fainting, Unconsciousness, Canon-Typical Violence, No Beta we die like elisabeth and sebastian
Summary:
5 times Chay got the Chills + 1 time it was Kim
Or, KimChay are soulmates, how does the time at which they find that out change their relationship (and canon events)
I have a few lot of stories in varying degrees of completion in my WIP folder. But this past week or so, I've had a surge of creativity on one of them, so I decided to share it a bit.
You will find below 5 snippets, all from a different part of a 5+1 soulmate AU fic. The concept of soulmates in this AU comes from this wonderful Teen Wolf fic by @disast3rtransp0rt (basic concept is that the younger soulmate gets Chills on their birthday if they've already met, and only contact with their soulmate can Warm them). It made me wonder how this would work for KimChay (because I'm always thinking about KimChay) and how Chay's birthday being at different times would change his relationship with Kim. If anyone wants to try guessing when Chay's birthday is based on the snippets, I would love to know what y'all think 👀 (part 2 doesn't count 😁)
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4.
5.
I still need to write a chunk of part 3, the +1, and give the whole thing a thorough editing. I'm hoping I'll be able to start posting it some time this month.
Comments and cheers, in the form of likes or reblogs, keep the muse alive.
Fandom: The Empyrean/Fourth Wing
WC: 571
Characters: Gaelach the Blue Dragon, Isobel ( OC )
Description Blurb: A snippet into the past. Gaelach finds that his rider's tiny offspring is more interesting than he'd previously considered. This is the first time he really took notice of her and was the seed of his future decision to bond her the way he did.
His rider, for all his merits and advantages, was only human after all. He watched him run after his mate, the bond seeped in exhausted frustration. Ah, so it was the same argument then. Gaelach snorted and rolled his eyes, unimpressed by the increasing frequency of this particular fight between the two. The Beauty would never be at peace with her mate's occupation as a Rider, despite her earlier claims in their youth. She was a Healer; compassionate and focused in her craft, yes, but her soul crumbled to ash in the vicinity of so much injury and death. Gentle creatures were not made for war.
Gaelach could hear them as they wandered further, though they tried to whisper to ward off his eavesdropping. He gave a small shake of his head and was about to take to the skies to hunt, when the Forgemaster spoke sharply.
“Don't leave Isobel alone until one of us is back.”
And then his shields went up and the whisper yelling got further in distance and louder in volume.
Gaelach gave him his space wordlessly and instead deigned to look down upon the small bundle still nestled in the wooden cradle by the blanket. Bright blue eyes nestled in a tiny pudgy face were watching him, small content gurgles of meaningless sounds spilling past smiling lips. One tiny hand with its impossibly short fingers managed to worm its way out of the blankets and reached up to him in invitation. It fisted, opened, fisted. She squealed louder as her tiny body stretched towards him.
Curious.
He thrummed softly, impressed with the infant's bravery. Many a human babe had screamed at the sight of himself or his brethren during their minimal encounters. He’d always believed that their primitive instincts were strong in that they undoubtedly recognized dragons for what they were-- dangerous predators. And yet, this tiny thing seemed to have the opposite reaction… He peeled back his lips to reveal his fangs, though no growl rumbled his chest -- after all, he wasn't threatening the small thing. No, he was simply testing her. Would she cry at the sight of sharp teeth? Would the implied reminder that he could tear her apart make her tremble and weep?
But to his wonder, she barely reacted at all except to squeal and reach more insistantly. Her other arm was still trapped in blankets despite her squirming, but that one little hand fisted and opened in repetition as it stretched insistantly towards him.
Gaelach tilted his head before slowly lowering it closer to the babe, inhaling her scent. She smelled like her mother's milk, the fresh linen blankets neatly tucked around her, and all the usual smells of a human infant. Nothing to suggest she was any different… except that she squealed in laughter as his breath ruffled the feathery strands of her dark hair. He looked at her little face full of undaunted joy and felt pleasantly surprised at the realization she was not afraid of him at all. No, she loved him, if her happy little infant coos were anything to go by. It definitely reminded him of the pipping of hatchlings just out of the egg.
Curious, indeed.
He settled onto the grass more comfortably, tucking his wings in as he abandoned the idea of a hunt. For now, at least. Once Colyn or the Beauty returned, he would resume his task to fill his belly.
DESCRIPTION BLURB: One of the first little writing tidbits I did of my original character I've crafted for the ACOTAR world. A sister of Drakon of the Seraphims, she is there at the Battle of Hybern when she scents the blood of her mate. After the battle, she requests to stay behind in Prythian to search for them.
Her lungs burned as she held her breath waiting for what her brother would say. In the corner of her peripheral, she could see Miryam anxiously watching them both with fingertips covering her mouth. The wind whispered around her sister in law, soothing and gentle, despite Saoirse's gaze never once breaking from Drakon's. He stared her down, cool and calculating. It was the face of the King of the Isle, not her brother. Assessing the pros and cons to her admission and request. One of his closest counsel, a princess of the Royal House of Cretea... but there, as the moment stretched, there was a softening of his gaze and it was now her brother looking at her.
“You could be searching for a long time. Decades... centuries even.” He murmured, voice grave and sad. Saoirse felt her chest constrict at the idea of so much time, at the truth of that reality. There was so much more territory here and all of it dissected into the individual courts with all their rules and politics. It could indeed take her much longer than she dared to think about to navigate it all and find them. Decades, centuries... it pained her to consider being away from home that long, of not seeing the nieces and nephews she loved so fiercely, of stepping away from her responsibilities to the Isle and their people...
But at the same time, she could feel it -- the squirming impatience to find them, find them, find them, that echoed with each beat of her heart. The thread was barely there now but she could still feel them, a distant ache that hollowed out a part of her she hadn't even realized existed. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she did: her mate needed her.
Stay, stay, stay... the fledgeling bond begged of her.
She couldn't imagine turning her back on them now that she knew they were alive, could not stomach the thought of what agony such abandonment would cause both of them. Saoirse supposed her decision must have shown on her face because Drakon's tightened into a tired frown across from her. His wings drooping ever so slightly in defeat and he let loose a long, heavy sigh. Her brother knew her better than any other person alive and he'd no doubt read all of her thoughts as the emotions had flickered across her face. Miryam made a soft, pained sound as she realized the decision had been quietly settled between the siblings. She inhaled a shaky, steadying breath before launching herself forward to wrap around Saoirse in a tight hug.
“Promise us you'll be careful. Promise us you'll come home as often as you can. We can fix the wards to let you through, okay?”
Words couldn't form as her throat tightened with emotions, so she simply nodded in agreement with a tight lipped smile. She could have found her way home despite the wards, honestly, but Miryam knew that. The wind would guide her anywhere she asked it to. What mattered was the intention behind the reminder -- she would always be welcome home. Saoirse buried her face in Miryam's dark locks and inhaled her scent for the last time in probably a long while. She committed it to memory, fighting the tears that burned her eyes as she finally pulled apart from her sister in law's embrace. Miryam's eyes were also glassy with tears, a few of them falling to leave wet tracks across her cheeks.
She turned towards her brother again. He looked stiff and uncomfortable, shoulders pinned back ramrod straight even though his wings dropped behind him. The last time they'd been separated… the memory was an ugly scar neither of them liked to talk about. Judging by the shadows in her brother's dark eyes, he was nonetheless recalling those memories. The trauma he'd been exposed to, the sight of her alive but lifeless before they'd been reunited. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly and she could read the hesitation in the movement. Saoirse jumped to defend herself before he could change his mind.
“I'm not a child anymore.” She reminded him quietly. His eyes met hers and she held her breath as he simply stared at her with that haunted, hardened gaze.
“I know.” He finally replied, stepping closer to grasp her shoulders. “But you are my younger sister and a princess of the Isle. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”
She shrank back, eyes wide and heart thrashing. Please don't make me leave, her thoughts begged him. But before she could speak a word, Drakon shook his head sharply and her lips pressed tightly together. Her King was speaking and she was to listen.
“I have watched you grow strong, little sister. But I have also seen you break apart before. And it is no easy task to watch you fly away into foreign territories when there is still much upheaval in these courts, all to search for one soul amongst thousands…” Her heart sank and the wind howled briefly outside the tent, an echoing wail of her grief. Drakon tilted his head, expression unreadable as he peered at her. “But I also know what it is like to have that bond with someone. I cannot deny you that happiness while I get to experience mine... You may go.”
Saoirse bit back a choked noise of excitement, although the twitching of her wings and fluffing of her feather betrayed her absolute excitement at his approval of her leave of absence. She beamed at her brother, who sighed and lifted a finger for her to slow down.
“But, there are conditions. One, you must keep in touch with Rhysand during your journey -- he is the only one I trust complicity here.” When she made a face, he chuckled softly and stepped closer to ruffle her curls like he always did. Saoirse ducked out of the way, but it was a half hearted attempt to escape and they both knew it. Who knew when the next time they'd get to goof off together would be? Drakon continued, “You don't have to tell him what you're looking for, I grant you that privacy, but let him know where you are on a regular basis. It calms my mind to know that if something were to happen, he would have a general idea of where to start looking.
Two, you must respect each individual Court and their rules. I will not have you embarrass our Isle by stirring up trouble. You are a Princess of Cretea, and thus you represent us to each and every court you visit. And, as of this moment, an official Emissary of Cretea as well. Do you accept the responsibility, Saoirse?”
The wind stilled around the camp in the way that Saoirse always had considered to be the world watching and waiting for something momentous to happen. A decision that split the road into two, each leading to a different destination. Saoirse took a steadying breath, stretching and flexing her shoulders and wings as she widened her stance and brought a fist to her heart. A heart that beat wildly behind the cage of her own ribs, clawing for a way out to search for the one it'd felt nearby.
“I accept.”
She thought she could hear the wind sigh at her choice, a soft sound laced with homesickness, yearning, and hope.
