#luke yang

[aktrashpanda]

When John Luke was nine, Parker stopped writing back.

It took a while before John Luke was sure, before he allowed the worry to slither into his bones, and take flavor and color away, and leave only trembling cold behind. Parker had never been quiet this long. Something had happened.

John Luke Yang wants his brother back. When he learns about a wish—offered by a god, in exchange for winning some kind of game—he's willing to leave everything behind in pursuit of it.

But the Dreamlands are not safe, and the King in Yellow has gone mad. The Games are not designed to be survived.

Luke has fallen into deep and dangerous waters. Fortunately, he won't be swimming alone.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup

Fic by @late-to-the-magnus-archives

Art by @aktrashpanda

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Blood and sand - Chapter One

When John Luke was nine, Parker stopped writing back.

It took a while before John Luke was sure, before he allowed the worry to slither into his bones, and take flavor and color away, and leave only trembling cold behind. Parker had never been quiet this long. Something had happened.

John Luke Yang wants his brother back. When he learns about a wish—offered by a god, in exchange for winning some kind of game—he's willing to leave everything behind in pursuit of it.

But the Dreamlands are not safe, and the King in Yellow has gone mad. The Games are not designed to be survived.

Luke has fallen into deep and dangerous waters. Fortunately, he won't be swimming alone.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup. Art by @aktrashpanda.

>>>>READ ON AO3 OR BELOW<<<<

----------

Chapter One: Before

When John Luke was nine, Parker stopped writing back.

It took a while before John Luke was sure, before he allowed the worry to slither into his bones, and take flavor and color away, and leave only trembling cold behind. Parker had never been quiet this long. Something had happened.

Phone calls were expensive, and even with what Parker sent every month, John Luke didn’t have much change. It all went to their older sister, Phoebe, who meant well—she really did—but she hadn’t planned on caring for her baby brother in the expense of San Francisco, not when she had her own kids to feed.

She’d never approved of Parker going back east, anyway. San Francisco was easier. Safer. There were more people here like them.

John Luke didn’t particularly feel like anyone was like him. He had no friends. He had his big brother, and that had always been good enough.

But Parker stopped writing back. So for a solid week, John Luke ran errands, washed windows, subbed for the paperboy (Toby would do anything to get out of work), and scrounged at last enough money to call Yang and Lester P.I., in Arkham, Massachusetts.

The phone rang and rang, and nobody ever picked up.

#

Phoebe finally listened to him because the money stopped coming, and she called the police in Arkham. That’s how they learned Parker was dead.

The body had been incinerated. They hadn’t bothered to contact next of kin (“Because he was a—” Phoebe’s husband said, and then used a slur that made Phoebe smack him). They’d sold all his goods at police auction. It was over. Parker was gone as though he’d never existed, and there was nothing left.

John Luke cried a lot. He probably wasn’t supposed to. Someone should, though. Shouldn't they?

Was there someone else? Adults always had other people, didn’t they? He’d peeked into Phoebe’s address book, but all she’d had was Parker’s name, office address, and office phone number… all of which had been lightly crossed out with a single, precise pencil line.

That made him cry again. He couldn’t even verbalize why.

He left her address book open as if forcing her to see Parker’s name could possibly conjure grief from her, too, and tried to continue his life.

#

When John Luke was ten, he discovered magic.

He hadn’t meant to. He’d been in trouble at school again—the kind he always got into by trying to be good. They said he was sullen when he was quiet. They said he was rude when he just struggled to make eye-contact. They said he was antisocial, when trying to talk to his peers felt like being a bug trying to swim in molasses.

(He knew about molasses. Phoebe and Parker had been living with their parents in Boston in 1919, and he’d never forgotten the nightmarish description of a spider trapped in that horrible flow, unable to lift its limbs to save itself.)

So he was in trouble. They made him sit in the corner with a dunce cap on, even though he had the highest grades in class. It was dark by the time he headed home.

He'd probably be in trouble for that, not that he was ever noticed any other time. He could admit it to himself in the crowded, smelly dark of this night: no one would be upset if he didn’t come home. If he didn’t come home, Phoebe would maybe cross his name out with a light pencil line, and that would be that.

Feeling sick, he slowed. John Luke passed irregular streetlamps and neon lights proclaiming CHOP SUEY and SHANGHAI LOW. Passed the alleys where (he'd been told) the Tong had fought for supremacy only a few years before. And then, he stopped. He stopped at the alley leading to the five flights of stairs that would take him to Phoebe’s apartment. Stopped, because he did not want to go home.

Home was… home was… not here. Home was gone.

He missed Parker.

Strange, sometimes, how these moments hit, unexpected and unplanned, without any warning for how they changed one’s life course. John Luke could not know this was one such moment now. He only knew he could go where he belonged—to disapproval, to cold quiet, to disappointment he’d gotten in trouble, to early bed and (conveniently) no dinner—

Or.

He could walk in the traffic-clogged streets, and pretend he was like them, and stay out all night long, because who was going to stop him? Maybe a cop, but more likely, no one. And that, right now, felt better than going back. So, he walked.

He walked, head down, hands pocketed, unconcerned for thieves because he had nothing to steal. He walked, crying softly, wishing Parker were here, wishing the police had been wrong. He walked, and turned streets at random, and tried not to bump into anyone (impossible), and ignored pickpockets, and found a neon sign he’d never seen before.

CHANGE FORTUNE

That was silly. So silly. He knew all of that kind of thing was bullshit. He knew science was real. Math mattered. Magic was lies. There was no such thing as fortune or luck.

CHANGE FORTUNE

What good would it do to try, anyway? He had no money. (Toby got caught outsourcing, and now nobody could take turns for him anymore.) It didn’t even mean anything. It wouldn’t do anything.

He couldn’t bring Parker back. Not even the old-world stories Phoebe’s ancient mother-in-law told portrayed that as possible.

CHANGE FORTUNE

On the other hand, what harm could it do?

John Luke stepped inside the shop. It was a dark, creaky space, with creaky floors and creaky fans and creaky something that almost sounded like alien voices, some kind of insect choir, impossible beings squeaking some kind of song for whatever they thought songworthy.

The shop was narrow—one long room, lit only by the front windows, with shelves floor-to-ceiling on either side, crammed with unlabeled goods wrapped in dust and mystery. And at the far end, behind a glass counter, sat a little old man.

A little old man who beckoned him forward. A little old man with pale eyes, and lips that did not smile. A little old man who seemed to have fox-ears if John Luke didn’t look directly, and a fox-tail if John-Luke looked away. “You,” the old man said. “You look young, healthy. I need help. Can you help me?”

John Luke’s Mandarin was pretty good, and he understood. “Yes, sir?”

The old man tried to stand, winced (a grimace that showed his pointed teeth), and sat again. “It’s time to pay my rent, but I’m injured. Could you take my rent money to my landlord? He lives upstairs; it won’t be a terrible journey. This way, he won’t hound me, and I can recover from my fall in peace. Please help me.”

Well… what was John Luke going to say, no? It was obvious the old man (who was human, no matter what imagination claimed) needed help. John Luke understood needing help. He took the envelope.

He did not open it. Following instructions, he walked around the outside of the building, found the fire escape, climbed it, and knocked on the window of the second floor.

It was opened by someone he could not see. A darker shape in darkness, with round, frog-like eyes, glinting in the gloom.

John Luke swallowed and held the envelope out. “From the man downstairs.”

“Thank you, John Luke,” said the darker shape in darkness, and took the envelope with a hand (green, mottled, webbed) that fortunately did not make contact.

And John Luke trembled on his way down the stairs, and swallowed bile as he hesitated outside that shop door (CHANGE FORTUNE), and finally went inside because rationally, this could not be real, what he’d seen up there, and if it was, he had no name for it, but if it was real, then he needed to see where it went.

The old man smiled, and offered some steaming tea. “What do you want, more than all the world?”

John Luke did not live in a home or an era in which taking things from strangers was verboten, so he took the warm, fragile teacup and sipped. He didn’t know this brew; it was floral, a strange taste, almost dusty, but so good he suddenly had to fight the urge to gulp it down at once. “My brother.”

Why had he answered that?

“A challenging proposition,” said the old man. “I can’t give him back to you.”

John Luke’s heart ached. Ached. As if disappointed, but he couldn’t be, because that meant he’d hoped for the impossible. “I know. No one can, sir.”

The old man pointed his knobbly, wrinkled finger. “There is one who can. It will cost you; it will take much effort, trial, error, and triumph, but there is one who can. It will cost you. But there is one who can.”

The repeat mattered, made this like a vow, and John Luke stood there holding a teacup that was not his, trembling from head to toe, and suddenly knew this was the hinge his life would turn on. There would be a before and an after this choice—but if he could get his brother back, he did not care about the cost. “Please,” he said, and pretended tears weren’t leaking down his cheeks, hoping the darkness of the room would hide them.

The old man nodded. “Good luck, John Luke.” He held his hand out, palm up, and blew on it, right into John Luke’s face.

And John Luke woke up at home, on Phoebe’s spare children’s mattress. Beside his head, a pile of ancient, mold-spotted books in various languages waited to be read.

#

Of course, CHANGE FORTUNE was gone. It was an abandoned laundromat, flooded out, walls and floors ruined by water too thoroughly for anyone to bother renovating it. Mold climbed the walls. He doubted the apartments above were clear of it.

He walked around the side of the building, and found that the fire escape was rusted off, broken, completely missing from the third floor down.

Right. So.

It had happened. He knew it had. By kindness to an old man, he’d earned… something.

A chance, his gut said, which was not a guarantee.

It was ludicrous to believe. Insane. Crazytown.

John Luke believed, and in hope he would somehow resurrect his brother, he went home and opened the first book.

[chapter two] [masterpost]

[raps-hellion]

non-main-seven demigods who know how much an average loaf of bread from the store costs:

luke castellan — had to figure out some way to feed the demigods in kronos's army. probably looked at the cost, went "that's stupid, i have a sword", and robbed the store at sword point instead.

ethan nakamura — luke's bread-stealing accomplice.

clarisse la rue — now that she's in college, yes. she's not happy about it, and even less so when someone (sherman) tells her she sounds a lot like percy when she gripes about it.

sherman yang — clarisse keeps him updated and he likes to annoy her about it.

travis stoll — yeah, but price is an illusion to him. anything can be free if he tries hard enough.

connor stoll — only because travis sends him letters from college bragging about how he hasn't been caught yet.

non-main-seven demigods who do not know how much an average loaf of bread from the store costs:

thalia grace — she was a tree.

will solace — has too many responsibilities as head counselor to even consider bread prices.

reyna ramíez-arellano — new rome has a far more stable economy than the rest of america and their bread is unrealistically cheap and/or free depending whether or not it's magically sourced.

drew tanaka — absolutely not.

bianca di angelo — lotus casino for 70 years then straight into military academy. no time for bread.

silena beauregard — camp half-blood provides food magically.

charles beckendorf — too busy looking at silena.

[archonoelle]

the category is: fictional men who would have “husband” in their instagram bios

[percexe]

thing thats been plaguing my mind today: lukes hair getting lighter the more he spirals into the kronos-cyclone-of-kronosism (pitched by charlie bushnell to some pjo design people)

i think its really fun because- if you know me you know i LOVE physical changes that match a characters mental state, ESPECIALLY when freaky magic stuff is involved. and while i sit here and ponder logistics, it brings me back to things like the grey streaks from holding up the sky and ways to show the aftermath of taking a dip in the styx for invulnerability.

both are the result of "curses", and it makes sense the curse of achilles would have some physical changes other than the obvious. i've been wanting to find a "grey streak equivalent" for the curse of achillies for a while, and the wider discussion of intense stress bringing physical design changes just brings that right back- because the styx would have a similar (if not worse) effect with stress-induced-makeover. my first thought was "oh just turn their whole head grey/white", but obviously that would mess up a lot of design stuff. second thought was add more streaks, which is probably the route i'll go with for styx stuff, because its an obvious change while still keeping recognizability (+ some minor traits im still thinking over)

very excited to mess around with "luke off the deep end" designs with new ideas. luke castellan goes grey at age 22 from triple threat stress (held up the sky + curse of achilles + kronos takeover). that or he just has the worlds most botched highlights

[mr-president]

HIT THE SLAY BUTTON 🚨🚨

i was and am absolutely sick and floored that i couldn’t find a single drag queen jamie headcanon or design. i, frankly, absolutely despise designing things, especially fashion, so i grit my teeth and went into agony to deliver this concept.

seriously, how can you not look at this kid and go “a DRAAAG QUEEN???” anyways…here’s my design notes

if i’m referring to jamie in his drag persona, i’ll be using she/her pronouns as is customary with drag queens. and forgive me for any historical or chinese errors; i cannot read or write chinese i can only speak it, and my buddy vinnie stopped answering my questions after a while.

tentative drag name: xiao long bao—yun and yang are known as the white dragon (bai long) and blue dragon (lan long) respectively, but jamie’s title is a pun: “dragon” or “long” is the title, but the entire word “xiao long bao” jsut means soup dumpling. and that’s fitting to me as a nickname for jamie, but imo, it’s not a good drag name. it’s cute and it’s fitting, but it’s not vogue, it’s not a performance name. PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS IM BEGGING YOU

jamie really seems to like having chinese inspirations in his normalwear, so it made sense to me to have his drag persona be very inspired by hanfu (i believe this is uhhh tang dynasty; the one focused on very ornate patterns with the cross-body robes and emphasis on a waistline; though normally every chinese character pulls from song-dynasty tradition). since i’m not very imaginative, this look was pulled straight from Guangzong drag queen Yuhua Hamasaki

in that traditional chinese hairstyle, jamie has 4 loops in the back with the crown and 4 major pieces of clothing, and with every swig, the loop gets untied and a piece of clothing gets taken off (numbered in order of taken off) the top of the clothes is a zhiju (2, 直裾), dark purple with a reddish iridescent pattern, with a the red xiapei (霞帔) scarf on top. it’s tied with a “horse face skirt”—mamianqun (1, 马面裙) —giving that very long dress/skirt sillohette. underneath that is a jinru (3, 晋襦), another cross-body but shorter robe that’s red and hides the typical drag queen bodysuit (4) that she can then breakdance in.

i debated the logistics of breakdancing in drag heels, but turns out elektra fence has done it on drag race before so. i don’t need to justify its plausibility.

the other two designs are kind of jokes; i’ve (against my will) been forced to see that darkstalkers felicia jamie mod, and i think it’d be a really cool if this actually was a drag thing of his, especially with my hc that yang kind of treats jamie like a beloved stray cat. and felicia’s a performer and singer; i’m sure he could do it. i did adapt some things from felicia’s design; instead of an actual tail (or even a prop one)—which could fuck up jamie’s breakdancing routine—she ties her hair at the end, where it’s dyed white to act as a “tail.” i also hope you enjoy the paw high heel concepts i came up with.

i like jttw, it’s probably my favorite legend of all time and i blame sun wukong for 40% of my personality. but quan yin is absolute fucking mother, and we must pay tribute, so like with his usual routine, jamie strips and reveals the lotus dress underneath her robes.

yun and yang are surprisingly supportive of jamie’s drag hobby, and they’re willing to participate in performances or just show up to support; hence, i think they open up the quan yin act with a fight between sun wukong (yun) and the liu er mihou (yang) before jamie comes in and breaks up the fight by distinguishing the two. the reason for yang’s pensive expression is that, because sun wukong and liu er mihou look exactly alike, then yang has to look like yun, something he despises. would require heavy convincing, but i think he’d eventually budge.

i think jamie’s drag attitude (and attitude in general) reminds me a lot of wesley snipes—an actor typically in hypermasculine action films, who played a very flamboyant drag queen. i’m referencing his role as noxemma jackson in “to wong foo” of course; everything about snipes as noxemma absolutely reeks of jamie, and i could see this being a major inspiration and influence for him

i thought a bit about jamie on rupaul’s drag race, and i concluded that he would fucking hate it. drag queens are viscous, and jamie’s good at quipping insults back, but he’s also used to being able to throw hands afterwards. i can imagine he’d say things like “even the most aggressive, dangerous street fighter cannot match the viciousness of these girls.” i also think he would not like rupaul because rupaul is racist and the judges don’t like cultural performances.

ah yes. the lesbian fucking love drag queens. drag in general—they show the fuck up. jamie in drag would summon every dyke with a 50 mile radius immediately, tips and drinks in hand to be given.

anyways, someone please tell me i’m not insane for this idea that is totally canon, peer reviewed, no notes.

[grimbothefool]

Holy shit there's four of them

[narfedam]

They’re silly I want them back

[freddie-77-ao3]

Riordanverse in Shades of Rainbow

queer sexualities and genders of various campers, gods, and other characters in the CHB universe.

Percy Jackson- trans guy, he/him. bisexual/biromantic

Annabeth Chase- cis girl, she/her. bisexual/biromantic.

Thalia Grace- non-binary, they/she. lesbian.

Grover Underwood- non-binary, they/he. panromantic/asexual.

Luke Castellan- cis guy, he/him. bisexual/biromantic.

Jason Grace- cis guy, he/him. gay. comp-het hit hard.

Miranda Gardiner- cis girl, she/her. straight.

Katie Gardner- cis girl, she/her. pansexual/panromantic.

Sherman Yang- cis guy, he/him, straight.

Ellis Wakefield- trans guy, he/him/ gay.

Clarisse La Rue- trans girl, she/her. poly and pan.

Malcolm Pace- trans guy, he/him. asexual, queer-- he likes girls and connor. Maybe boys? undecided, he's choosing not to think about it.

Lee Fletcher- trans guy, he/him. gay.

Michael Yew- trans guy, he/him. gay.

Will Solace- trans guy, he/him. bisexual/biromantic.

Austin Lake- cis guy, he/him, undecided.

Kayla Knowles- cis girl, she/her. lesbian.

Reyna Ramirez Arellano- cis girl, she/her. asexual, homoromantic.

Charles Beckendorf- cis guy, he/him, poly, bi.

Jake Mason- cis guy, he/him, bi.

Leo Valdez- cis guy, he/him, pan.

Nyssa Barerra- cis girl, she/her. lesbian.

Silena Beauregard- cis girl, she/her. poly, bi.

Drew Tanaka- trans girl, she/her. asexual, aromantic.

Piper McLean- cis girl, she/her. lesbian with a lot of comp-het.

Connor Stoll- non-binary, they/them. doesn't know, doesn't care. if you ask them, they'll start thinking, and then get distracted by something completely different. they're asexual though.

Travis Stoll- cis guy, he/him, bi.

Chris Rodriguez- cis guy, he/him, poly, bi (leaning toward guys)

Cecil Markowitz- trans guy, he/they. gay.

Nico di Angelo- cis guy, he/him, gay.

Lou Ellen Blackstone- trans girl, she/her. aromantic lesbian.

Hazel Levesque- cis girl, she/her. bicurious.

Clovis- trans guy, he/him. queer but doesn't care any more about it.

Frank Zhang- cis guy, he/him, straight.

Mitchell- trans guy, he/him. gay.

[tourouzann]

Year 3 dlc leak

[eye-candy-film-enjoyer]

Wes Anderson Movies + textpost part 6/11 (or until I give up)

Rushmore Edition

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Blood and sand - a Malevolent AU

When John Luke was nine, Parker stopped writing back.

It took a while before John Luke was sure, before he allowed the worry to slither into his bones, and take flavor and color away, and leave only trembling cold behind. Parker had never been quiet this long. Something had happened.

John Luke Yang wants his brother back. When he learns about a wish—offered by a god, in exchange for winning some kind of game—he's willing to leave everything behind in pursuit of it.

But the Dreamlands are not safe, and the King in Yellow has gone mad. The Games are not designed to be survived.

Luke has fallen into deep and dangerous waters. Fortunately, he won't be swimming alone.

>>>>READ ON AO3 OR BELOW<<<<

Playlist:

Before

Inciting Incident

A Progressive Complication

The Tavern-Keep

The Arena

The Test

Training

Lessons

Potential

The King in Yellow

Teamwork

The Priest

Drowning

Hastur

John

Dowd

Wish

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

In hindsight, maybe Annabeth should have known that dragging the Titan army *general* along with her after the battle was over may have some consequences. Oh well, that's a problem for future her.

OR

Alabaster is doing not so well and is also making it everybody else's problem

Aka Camper Al au 2 and Al antagonising every person with an orange shirt as much as he can.

[dalamjisung]

✿dalamjisung's directory✿

Hello there! Welcome to my masterlist!

I'm a multi-fandom writer focusing mainly on Stray Kids and Criminal Minds right now, but my works expand to GOT7 and BTS too! From series to one shots, I do it all >.<

Minors DO NOT interact with content tagged 18+!

Currently working on:

✧ a muted shade of green series (Criminal Minds!Spencer Reid) ✧ summertime's special series (Stray Kids collab with @catiuskaa)

Individual masterlists:

✧ Stray Kids ✧ Criminal Minds ✧ GOT7 ✧ BTS

[musewrangler]

Leia’s eyes flicked to Luke’s again. “Our agent has uncovered evidence from the very top levels that Lord Vader has two living children. The Emperor knows this.”

Piett’s shock was palpable, but he schooled himself admirably.

“Lord Vader has never given any indicator regarding that,” he stated firmly.

“There are a few possibilities for that,” Luke said. “One, he knows and is protecting them. Or two, he doesn’t know, but they are still a threat to Palpatine.”

It was odd to be speaking about himself like this.

Piett glared at his leg. He had the air of a man who needed to pace and that option was not open to him at the moment.

He opted instead to gently tap his finger upon the table top.

“I grant,” he said at last, “That this seems ridiculously elaborate as a way to get me to give you sensitive information. I would appreciate some time to consider my own course of action.”

[derangedfujoshi]

Hoyocest Fight Round One Poll 4