#And i couldn’t like go outside or to the library cus there was a fucking tropical storm

[braiding-his-hair]

i hate my roommates i hate extroverts i have not having silence i hate being surrounded by party people grrr

[grogunotfound]

pairing ╾ college!matt murdock x f!reader

word count ╾ 2.5k

synopsis ╾ the consistent debates between matt murdock and his fellow law classmate escalate into something neither of them can come back from. all in the school’s library.

warnings ╾ angst, make out sesh

a/n ╾ hi i’m kinda back cus i have so many ideas in my drafts.. it just takes me awhile to sit down and write lol; p.s. i do not proofread so i apologize in advance for any and all mistakes!!

— — —

“Professor, may I interject?” You raised your hand steadily and straightened your posture. You glanced over at your opponent, Matt Murdock. He was leaning back in his seat, a sly smirk stamped on his face—as if you couldn’t come up with a better rebuttal for the case.

Your teacher sighed, already knowing that this debate would go on forever between you and your peer. “Go ahead,” he nodded. You grinned and strutted over to the front of the lecture hall.

“Although Mr. Murdock brings up a good point, he forgot to consider the facts of the case in correspondence with the landmark case of…” You grazed over minute details that Matt Murdock seemed to have disregarded—which was unusual given his try-hard reputation. His smirk faltered as your classmates applauded your defense.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’ve just won your case. Well done,” your professor shook your hand before taking his rightful place at the podium. “Okay, students. That concludes our debate for today. Please review our previous lectures and readings in preparation for an exam at the end of the week.”

Classmates congratulated you as you packed up your belongings and notes. The rivalry between you and Matt has culminated since the beginning of the semester. He was a fantastic rival—smart, prepared, and determined. The two of you countered each other like boxers in a ring. Each jab and block was fuel for the next fight. And this time, you weren’t going down easy.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” Speak of the devil. Matt approached you, “Good job today.”

“Aw, thanks, Matt. That means a lot coming from you,” you sneered sarcastically. You weren’t falling for his charms. No matter how endearing they were.

He let out a breathy laugh, “Well, you surprised me today. Won’t happen again.” He shrugged, “Guess it was your lucky day.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not my fault you weren’t prepared. Too busy with all your hookups to do some actual work?”

“Please. I know how to balance my time with work and pleasure. It’s a natural talent of mine.”

“Really? Maybe I’ll see you around the library this week instead of my roommate’s bed.” You once caught Matt with your dorm mate, probably to spite you.

“Again, I have my talents. I’ll see you back in your room. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He teased, “Want me to pay you a visit?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Murdock.” You puffed and strutted away from him.

Matt chuckled to himself before guiding his own way out of the classroom. He got a kick out of making you flustered. It was the one thing he was sure of—it caused a reaction within you. The way heat would flood to your cheeks or how your heartbeat would speed up. Foggy was waiting for him outside the lecture hall, “Jeez. What’d you do to, Y/N.”

“She did that to herself.” Matt shrugged, “She can’t resist me.”

“You mean, she can’t stand you? Give the girl a break,” Foggy shook his head. “You’re gonna give her migraines.” Matt grinned.

You stormed far away from your nemesis, catching your breath as you leaned onto the side of the building. You won today in class, but you can’t help but feel that you still lost something. Your dignity? Your sanity? All of the above? You needed to let off some steam, so you decided to head back to the dorms.

You half-expected to see Matt sitting on your bed, pulling his shirt over his head as your roommate scrambled to put her own clothes on. It was something he would’ve done to fuck with your mind. That couldn’t be legal. It was definitely immoral of him. You came back to an empty room.

But, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were missing something. You spent the next couple of hours trying to be productive, but your room slowly closed in on you. You needed to get out. You were suffocating yourself, trying to figure out what was wrong. You kept opening up your phone to text messages, or to check your calendar. All of these mindless tasks to fill the void of God-knows-what. You had to get out.

You packed your backpack to do some late night studying. Better now than later or never. You crossed campus to the library. It was a quiet walk, with only the chittering of crickets and the gentle howl of the wind accompanying you.

As you walked up a few flights of stairs to the study area of the library, your breath hitched in your throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Across the room was the one and only. Matt Murdock. Usually the library was empty this late at night.

He was tracing a couple of books with his fingers, his mind was racing a million miles per second as he processed the information. You could’ve just ignored him, he probably had no clue you were there. But, it felt wrong to not say anything.

“Murdock, fancy seeing you here.” You spoke up, ambling towards him.

“Wish I could say likewise,” he laughed heartily, his fingers paused on a passage. “Y/N, what brings you to the library at this hour?”

“Studying. And you?”

“Same here. Please, sit. I don’t mind the company.” He gestured to the empty chairs surrounding him.

“Of course you don’t.” You commented under your breath before taking the seat across from him. You pulled out your textbooks and a notebook to begin studying. You glanced over at Matt, who was already preoccupied in his own readings.

The two of you were playing a cautious game of cat and mouse—you were both trying to find the right moment to pounce. You knew that these cordial manners would disappear the moment the other showed any sort of vulnerability, and you weren’t ready to submit to his devilish tricks.

Professionalism was a mutual respect for both of you. They say to keep your friends close but your enemies closer. You studied Matt’s mannerisms, the way his head cocked slightly as he concentrated, his furrowed brows intently absorbing whatever he was scanning. Everything about him felt familiar—as if you’ve known him your entire life. The majority of your college career has been centered around being the best, and Matt Murdock was the one obstacle in your way. He was the competition. But, of course, the two of you always kept things professional. Aside from the snarky remarks in class and the sarcastic comments on each other’s works, you could coexist with him…as long as you weren’t the one losing.

Matt once beat you to a very prestigious internship with your current media law professor. It frustrated you how you were so close to securing your dream experience only to have Matt Murdock charm his way into the professor’s heart. He didn’t even want to be a media lawyer, he was more interesting in criminal defense. You were sure that he just wanted to one-up you. Despite losing that opportunity, you still found success with another media law firm, specializing in entertainment law—which was extremely profound in NYC. You were sure you had a job lined up after graduation anyway, so why do you care?

Because Matt Murdock angered you. He constantly undermined your efforts, despite working just as hard to be accepted into Columbia Law. He claimed to barely recognize you on campus, going as far as to not even politely say “hi” or acknowledge you as he flirted up with your friends. Plus, your friends ate that shit up. The way he seemed to consume everything your friends would tell him—it drove you crazy. Were you not worthy enough of his attention span to be treated so poorly? As if you were lower than him? At this point, everything you did felt like it was out of spite for Matt Murdock—because he’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted.

Matt enjoyed stirring the pot between the two of you. It was like a game to him, it made his college experience much more entertaining. It’s true, he did every infuriating thing to spite you, but he did it out of admiration. It was unjustifiably expressed, but what fun would it be without a little friendly competition? He knew you were calculated and determined, and he knew you were hot-tempered. The amount of times you’ve cussed him out underneath your breath always brought a sly smile to his face. He was your motivator, and you were his ambition.

It was no use denying Matt’s attractiveness. His dark brown hair, his athletic physique, his cocky smile. Your bicker battles always through you into a loop, elevating your heartbeat and internal temperature. He sensed when your sneaky glances in class lasted a little too long. He could feel the way you squirmed in your seat whenever he said anything daring. Matt wanted to see how far he could push your denial before you eventually exhausted yourself and gave in to him. He desired you as much as he detested you and your smarts and your wittiness. You loathed him as much as you wanted to grab him by his stupid tie and kiss him fervently to let out your pent up fantasies.

At this point, you weren’t even bothered with studying. You were bothered that even faced with one-on-one attention, Matt Murdock didn’t seem to care about you at all. You groaned, getting lost in your own thoughts and slammed your textbook shut. You forgot you were with company, but Matt didn’t seem to flinch at your sudden movement.

“Too hard to understand? Do you need help? You know, you could always ask me.” Matt sat back in his chair.

“Did I say I needed help?” You spat out unexpectedly. You were fuming underneath the fluorescent lights of the library. Luckily, it was just the two of you.

He let out a fake gasp, “Looks like the little kitty does have claws.”

“Go to hell, Murdock.” You scoffed and began packing up your belongings. You can’t believe you dragged yourself into this mess. You didn’t have to sit there with him. You could’ve just left the library without a word, he wouldn’t have noticed. Why did you stay? Why did you stay and put yourself into this situation knowing only one of you was going to make it out with your pride?

Matt stayed silent this time. He opened his mouth to say something but promptly closed it. You finished packing up your stuff and turned to face him. He was still sat in the same position, looking as if he were caught red-handed.

“What? Don’t have anything nice to say?” You said. “You know, I work harder than everyone in this entire place. I don’t have time for any of your little games anymore. So, let’s just go back to never speaking to each other ever again. Okay?”

No response.

“Okay?” You reiterated. You paused, seeing that he wasn’t going to respond anyway. You claimed this as a victory of your final battle and started to head for the exit.

“Y/N, don’t leave.” He finally spoke up. You stopped abruptly in your tracks. You didn’t turn to face him but knew he was making his way towards you.

You gripped tightly onto the straps of your backpack. What else could he possibly be want to say that hasn’t already destroyed you? You felt his hand lightly touch your upper arm. You flinched underneath his touch, but you didn’t pull away. Why didn’t you pull away?

Matt motioned for you to turn around and face him. So you did. He dropped his hand and ran it through his once-perfectly combed hair. He took a deep breath before repeating himself, “Don’t leave.”

You gulped, wondering what kind of restitution Matt, your full-time enemy, could be offering. “What’s the matter with you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer to you, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You frowned before straightening your posture, “You. You’re what’s the matter.”

Matt started to say something, you were hoping for some sort of apology, but he stopped and leaned in closer to you. Your faces were inches away from each other. You could feel his hot breath on your lips, his breathing started to deepen as if he were preparing himself for something. Matt spoke in a low voice, “You drive me crazy, Y/N. But I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t pretend anymore.”

“What do you mean—“ you asked breathlessly. Your eyes searched your own reflection in his thick, black glasses. Your heartbeat quickened and sweat began to form on your forehead.

He took a step back and grunted, “Y/N, stop lying to yourself.”

You furrowed your brows, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You knew exactly what he was talking about. This game of cat and mouse that consumed both of your every waking moments. Why else did either of you entertain these hellish debates? You were trying to prove to yourself that you didn’t care about each other when deep down that wasn’t the truth. The truth was that you cared a lot about Matt. You just weren’t ready to face it. You summoned up courage to close the distance between the two of you, “Matt Murdock. I—“

Matt pulled you towards him with a gravitational force so strong you couldn’t help but collide bodies with him. He kissed you, hard, and then you were kissing him back. Your eyes fluttered closed as you brought your hands up to cup his face and his onto your waist. It was passionate, desperate, as if you were his lifeline. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not your internships, not your textbooks, not even the approaching exam. It was just the two of you in the quiet, empty library.

When you pulled away for air, you felt dazed. Matt wiped his mouth, breathing heavily. “Y/N,” he said in a low whisper. “Do you still—“ Hate him. Think about him. Want him.

“Yes.” You gulped. “Yes,” you pulled him back to kiss him again. He backed you up onto the closest bookshelf, the wood crackling underneath the pressure. No matter how badly you wanted to destroy Matt Murdock, you wanted to rip his clothes off simultaneously. He snaked his arms under your blouse, far enough for you to feel his warm hands on your skin. He lightly grazed your torso with his fingers, running them up and down to feel you shiver underneath him.

He pulled away to place his forehead on top of yours. He breathed heavily, “it’s hard to hate you when you’re under me like this, submissive and breathless. Gorgeous, really.” He leaned in towards you once more, pushing up against you as if he couldn’t stand being away from you, which was a complete 180 from all your previous interactions. Your lips collided urgently.

“Murdock,” you whispered in between kisses. He hummed in response, a smirk crept onto his lips as he sensed your heartbeat speeding up once more. “I think I win this time.”

“Just this time,” he chuckled and placed a gentle hand on your cheek before pulling you in to deepen the kiss.

Let’s just say not a lot of studying got done that night as you familiarized yourself in Matt’s dorm room.

[misstressshelby]

Lost Boy

Summary: You try your best to take care of the youngest Shelby and put him on the right track

Warnings: Language ( I really like the work fuck lol)

Word Count:1.358

Paring: Tommy/Reader (Reader is GN)

(A/N This is completely self-indulgent but while rewatching S2 I just got the urge to take care of Finn. He's just a baby and he deserved way better...also I have no idea how to UK school system works)

You hadn’t been married to Thomas Shelby for long, going on six months next week. You two had only known each other a year before he proposed and you had excitedly said yes. The wedding was simple with both families squished into the church. The reception was a different story. Cousins of cousins filled the Garrison and the streets outside. The party had gone well into the next morning. Long after you and Tommy had left, lost in yourselves and the thought of consummating the marriage.

You had taken up helping in the betting shop alongside Esme after your wedding. Slowly you were welcomed into the family meetings and dinners. Now you were ushered into the nook at the pub with open arms and jokes shared between the brothers. While you were getting closer to the Shelbys you still weren’t blood. You and Esme sat in on the meeting but never said a word. Occasionally you’d both share knowing looks or whisper about ongoings in private.

You had noticed during this time how the youngest Shelby was left unsupervised. Often forgotten in the chaos of Peaky business.

“Does Finn not go to school?” you asked your husband one night as you laid in bed.

“What good would it do? The boy can’t even read?” he chuckled before getting up to light another cigarette.

“We could get him a tutor, Tommy. We can afford it now.” You got up with him preparing for a fight.

“Where does he even stay most days Tommy? I always see him running around the street following Isaiah or in the pub. He should be in school getting an education.” You were starting to work yourself up now. Tommy just sat on the edge of your bed rubbing his hands down his face before tugging on his hair.

“I’ll deal with it.” He grunted and left for his office.

For the next couple of weeks, you saw Finn around the house more, usually in search of food. You had started sitting with him and eating the dinner Tommy would let get cold. You couldn’t help but grow fond of the freckled face smiling up at you. He would always wind up sweet-talking you into giving him desert. After these dinners, you had started sitting with Finn. Both of you would open a book and let him slowly sound out words for himself. You had set up a bedroom for him in one of the spare rooms. You slept better knowing he was safe at night. But it didn’t last.

It was payday so you and the other workers were at the Garrison drinking the money away. The other girls and you had downed a bottle of gin within an hour. You were tasked with getting another in the back of the pub. There you saw the lanky redhead bent over a table cutting Tokyo with an older peaky boy.

“OI, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’ You screamed seeing red.

The other boy ran off leaving Finn alone looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I-I was just having some fun. Me and boys-’ he stuttered out.

“Fun?! You’re not old enough to have fucking fun. Do you know what that shit does to your head eh? ”You marched over to him and grabbed the blue bottle out of his hands.

“The boys do it when we’re blue sometimes is all.” He winced when you grabbed him by the ear. Dragging him out of the busy pub ignoring the looks from the others you started towards the shop. The door bounced off the wall, shaking the pictures that hung there.

“Sit!” You pointed at the couch in the middle of the living room.

You found Tommy where you’d left him leaned over his desk with a cigarette in his hand. He looked up with his eyebrows pulled together as you barged in.

“Do you know where I found this eh?” You threw the small bottle at him, “ You fucking brother yeah was cutting it up. Fourteen-fucking-years old and doing snow Tommy?! You said you’d handle it.”

“I did-” He started with a drag off his smoke.

“Does it look handled to you, Tommy? Now I’ve tried not to say anything cus I know I’m not blood” Tommy scoffed at that. “But that boy needs some guidance before he ends up on the fucking streets.” You continued pointing towards the door.

“Yeah? Do you think I don't have enough going on?! I can’t run the bloody business, deal with London, Campbell, and chase after Finn all fucking day can I?!” Thomas got out of his chair.

“No you can’t Tom but we can’t just let him run wild either.” You lowered your voice a bit. Yelling at each other would get you nowhere but the silent treatment.

“Then what do you want me to fucking do?” Tommy lowered his voice too but the harshness remained.

“I want him to move in with us. I’m going tomorrow and signing him up for school. We’ll find him a tutor. He’ll have some catching up to do but that's fine.” You crossed your arms across your chest and continued. “He is a smart, sweet boy and it'll be over my dead body that he doesn't do something with ‘is life. He will graduate from school. If he wants to go to uni afterward then he’ll do that too.”

You closed the space between you and your husband grabbing his jaw before kissing him. You felt him relax a bit under you.

“Isn’t that the point of all this? So they can have a better life than us? Finn can have the things we only dreamed of.” Looking into his blue eyes you pleaded with yours.

“ He’ll move in tomorrow and you sign him up for Saint Andrews yeah.” He kissed your temple before leaving out the door to Finn.

It wasn’t easy taking in a teenage boy much less making him go to school. There were many nights spent screaming about homework or crying over mathematics.

But it was worth it because you loved your little family. After you moved out of Birmingham and into Arrow House things got a little better. You got Finn away from the older boys he worshiped. Tommy found him a tutor who came three days a week.

He wouldn’t admit it but he liked having Finn around the house too. The three of you had dinner as a family every night at your repeated request. Tommy and Finn would often ride horses together on the weekends.

You sat reading in the library when you heard Finn running through the halls.

“OI, where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you rounded the corner into the living room.

“A level marks were posted today, yeah? Let me see?” You held out your hand out expectantly. The young boy, well a man now, rocked back on his feet and avoided your gaze.

“It’s okay if you didn’t pass Finn, lots of people have to retake the exams.” You softly smiled.

Finn Arthur Shelby

Writing-B

Reading-A

Arithmetic-C

Nature Study-B

WoodWork-A

“You passed Finn!” You squealed while jumping up and down shaking the paper in the air. You hugged the boy that now towered over you and shook him too. Tommy ran into the room with Mary right behind.

“What? What’s happened?” Your husband asked with wide eyes.

Turning to him with a smile still on your face you started jumping again, “He passed! He passed!”

Tommy looked at Finn who was now grinning too, a blush on his face from the attention. Tom just put a hand on his shoulder and gave a slight nod of his head. That was the equivalent of the show you were putting on for Tommy.

“Finn we are so proud of you! You’ve worked so hard. I’ll have the cook make the custard you like for dessert to celebrate.” You kissed the redhead on the cheek. As you left to tell the cook of your plans you looked back at your two boys sharing a rare embrace. You couldn’t help but feel pride in the man you saw before you.

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Kingdom High Chapter 13

warnings: same as the last chapter

rating: SFW

And so here we are, Legacy Day. Where the students of Ever After High sign the Storybook of Legends, pledging to follow the paths of their fairy tale parents.

Or not.

Seriously? I'm narrating here!

“Maddie, Hana, you have to help me,” Raven said. “I don't feel like I can sign the Storybook of Legends, but I don't wanna let everyone down either,” she said.

“I feel the same way. My father has done some really bad stuff and I don’t want to follow in his footsteps,” Hana said. 

“And do not forget the whole, ‘If you don't sign, your story disappears—poof!—and you may vanish into oblivion!’” Maddie said as she gulped for air. “That's a thing you know, and it's gotta hurt.”

“But we don't know if that's true.” Raven said.

“But what if it is?”

“But what if it’s not?” Hana asked.

““But what if it is?”

“You're not helping,” Raven said. Maddie tapped her chin in thought.

“Wait a tick!” she said as she snapped her fingers. “I think I know who can help.” Meanwhile, Apple and Blondie were talking by Apple’s locker.

“No, but see, I am totally a Royal,” Blondie said as Apple shut her locker door.

“Ooh! Raven!” Apple said. “There you are. We have to talk.” Raven took Maddie and Hana’s hand and ran away from Apple.

“Oh! Come back!” Apple said as she ran after Raven.

“Apple, where are you going?” Blondie asked.

“I have to convince Raven to sign the book! My destiny depends on it!” 

~Small Time Skip~

Raven lead Maddie and Hana to hide in the library. She and Hana panted and was exhausted while Maddie knocked on a door. It immediately sucked them in the second before Apple came in.

“Raven?” Apple asked.

“If anyone knows the truth about the Storybook of Legends, it's Giles Grimm!” Maddie said.

“Feathers and friends! Together, alone,” Giles said as he bowed. Maddie clapped in excitement.

“He's speaking Riddlish! He was cursed with the babble spell. Makes him sound, you know...cu-roo-coocoo!” she said as she waved her fingers around her head. “He says it's nice to have us here.”

“Ask him about the book! If Hana and I don't sign, are we really gonna... uh, disappear?” Raven said.

“Mmhmm! Can the musical chair change its tone when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?” Giles tapped his chin.

“Hmm...the king who sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies,” he said.

“He says there's something wrong with the book, and that if you don't sign, your story will...”

“What? WHAT?” Hana and Raven asked. They saw Maddie set up some tea with Giles.

“Oh, sorry! If you don't sign, your story will continue,” Maddie said.

“Ah, really? Oh that's great,” Hana said.

“...I think.” Maddie took a sip of her tea.

“Huh?! You think?” Raven asked as she slammed on the table.

“Hey, Riddlish is not an exact language,” Maddie said. She flashed a polite smile at Hana and Raven and continued sipping her tea.

At last, it was Legacy day.

“Next we have Apple White,” Milton said. Students were cheering for Apple as she walked across the stage.

“I am Apple White, daughter of Snow White, and I am ready to pledge my destiny!” she said. A key appeared before Apple's hand and she took it and unlocked the book with it. Immediately the book sprung open with lifelike images of her and Raven's story. A mirror appeared in front of her and Apple viewed her future self: a perfect queen ruling over Ever After. She eagerly signed the book and the students cheered for her. Before she departed, Apple gave the crowd kisses.

“And next, Raven Queen,” Milton said. There was a lightning flash nearby and students were whispering as Raven stepped to the podium.

“I am Raven Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, and I pledge...um...I...” she said. Apple was watching from behind, eagerly. 

“Come on! Do it!” she said. (A/N: the music during this scene is fucking awesome. I wish I knew the name of it!) Raven looked back to Milton, who was in the background groaning in annoyance. Raven held out her hand and a key appeared. She took it and unlocked the book and found her own story unraveled, with each illustration worse than the next. Finally her mirror of her future self appeared and it was her in chains. Raven gasped in shock. The mirror transformed into a pen and Raven was hesitant to take it.

“I am Raven Queen, and I am going to write my own destiny!” she said as she took the book. “My Happily Ever After starts now!” She shut the book and the mirrors around her shattered. The Rebel students, including Hana and her friends were cheering.

“Oh I...I'm still here!” Raven said. She turned to Milton angrily. “I didn't disappear!”

“How could you be so...so selfish?” Apple asked. In support of Apple the Royals booed at Raven while the Rebel’s still cheered.

“I'm sorry Apple, but I...ugh. Hold EVERYTHING!” Raven said as she casted a spell on everyone, making them freeze in place. “Oh...I didn't know I could do that!” She stared at her hands in horror and unfroze Apple.

“I'm sorry Apple, but I don't want anyone to tell me who to be. I wanna figure that out on my own. And don't you understand? I'm not the only one who gets to choose their own destiny now. We all do! Even you,” she said. 

“But, I don't want to choose a new destiny. I liked the one I had. And because of you, it might not happen,” Apple said as she pointed at Raven.

“But it might.”

“I don't know. I...I just don't know.” Apple walked away, crying. Raven shook her head but found that the Rebels were supportive of her choice. She unfroze Maddie and Hana. 

“Wow!” Maddie said as she fell down comically. “You're still here. No poof, poof, POOF! Yay!”

“I know, it feels good!” Raven giggled. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Congrats, Raven. Now we can all follow our own destinies,” Hana said. 

“Thanks, Hana. I couldn’t have asked for better friends,” Raven said.

Life between the Royals and the Rebels at Ever After High would never be the same after Raven stood up for what she believed.

What she believed was wrong! She didn't honor her destiny, she tempted fate!

“Listen, Narrators! We are trying to have a nice moment here!” Maddie shouted. Her, Raven, and Hana giggled. Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Milton was staring outside the window.

“Raven does not know the forces she has released. This must be contained before her dangerous idea spreads!” he said. Suddenly the mirror started to laugh. But it wasn’t just one voice. It was two. Milton looked closely and saw the Evil Queen and Xehanort inside. 

~~~~

The Evil Queen had released her spell into the air but it did not work. She growled and headed over to the man who gave her the spell. Xehanort. 

“What the hell?! That spell you gave me didn’t work!” She yelled.

“Hmm, interesting. I thought that it would work for you. Guess not,” Xehanort mocked.

“Excuse me?! Weren’t you the one who wanted this spell to happen?!”

“Yes. But not someone like you.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” 

“Unlike you and your daughter, mine has a stronger connection to the darkness. Only I can perform the spell.”

“Grr...you just know how to make things difficult! Fine then, perform your pathetic spell, I got business to attend to.” The Evil Queen walked away and headed over to Wonderland. 

[little-ideas]

Life in the Devildom

I’ve spammed playing Obey Me for ~1 week and have just begun chapter 16, so if anything is addressed in the series later, I haven’t gotten to it yet > < I tried to leave these ish outside the realm of the plot so hopefully they’re not too crazy :)

MC getting sick and the brothers freaking out because the last time they dealt with human illness was the bubonic plague

Time difference shenanigans:

The devils and angels say they’ll get something done “soon” or “briefly” and MC constantly having to ask for clarification

MC’s current schedule is fairly light, but they’ll be that rad senior citizen who’s always got something going on during the weekends

Zaramela concerts with Levi in 2058

Cheering on Luke & Barbatos w/ Beel in the Realms’ Centennial Bake-Off

Tea time with the Angels once a month

Convincing Diavolo to let the brothers in to the human world and getting true history/purpose on items in museums

Getting kicked out of various antique shows with Mammon until they’re both permanently banned from every single one

MC getting asked if they remember the name of that one book about ___ from the library of Alexandria

Just constantly being asked if they recall things/events/people from history

“Guys wtf that was millennia ago” 

“Wasn’t born yet”

“Ask my great, great, great, great, great grandparents”

Asking the non-humans questions from ancient Earth’s history

“So like, what really happened with the dinosaurs?”

“We don’t talk it. Too soon MC”

“It was 65 million years ago, wtf do you mean ‘Too soon’?!?”

Brothers had to crash course human world info before MC showed up since going to the human world is limited to Barbatos, Diavolo, and Lucifer

Asking about religions and how true they are

MC probably asks Lucifer to curse their door after they learn he can do that so the others stop coming in uninvited

MC honestly is probably struggling so hard in their classes regardless of how much help and studying they get/do. MC’s common knowledge or background info can’t top what’s common knowledge to the devils.  It’s a school for those who have lived for freaking ever what more can they learn about???

Upon accepting the reality they’re in the Devildom, MC starts making a list of people/souls they’d like to meet

All the things MC can’t do without help because they can’t fly or the task requires magic so is just constantly calling the brothers for help

Has Mammon on speed dial because he’s upset whenever the called help isn’t him

Honestly at some point MC just snaps at all the others because they keep calling Mammon stupid/fool/idiot (was implied that this has happened even in their angel days) and not only is it cruel, Mammon’s behavior may have started out as a desire for attention that’s now just habit because he’s canonically good when it comes to bets and things that get him money and is very emotionally cued in to MC

He’s also just 2nd most powerful after Lucifer yet still gets walked over by everyone

A lot of his actions just seem like he’s trying to do something to stand out or gain praise even if they’re not good

Many years ago I heard something on NPR or someplace that said class clowns are often highly intelligent and act in such ways because they’re bored, so MAYBE MAMMON’S THE SAME WAY AND NOT ACTUALLY STUPID *glares at the rest of the OM cast*

Look Mammon annoys me but he doesn’t deserve all the shit he gets from everyone else, ESPECIALLY since it’s been going on for millennia and he’s been hearing such things from so long he’s probably internalized it and is acting in such a way that makes it true

So MC stands up to everyone else about Mammon and they are all sHoOk

And thus begins MC’s reign as Mammon’s champion of justice and they have sleepovers where MC re-assures Mammon and helps him see his true worth. Continues even after their yr in the Devildom they have a pact Mammon gets summoned for self-worth night fIgHT ME

Stands up for Luke, too

And Levi as not being a “worthless” otaku (he’s an otaku, he takes pride in that, but he ain’t worthless)

Just extends this to everyone because all-powerful beings can still be insecure and struggle with emotions and self-value, especially when they’ve already been defined as powerful and are held up on a pedestal by others yet make fun of and put each other down a bunch

Humans may be the weakest and shortest living but don’t for a second think they wouldn’t and couldn’t kick demon and celestial ass if they have to

Are social beings by nature protecting friends and processing emotions is kinda our thing

Do the Celestial Realm and Devildom have therapists? Because MC’s the leading advocate for them now after seeing how mentally unhealthy everyone is

TBH Diavolo probably allows MC to get away with so much shit

Want an MC who’s not afraid to curse in front of him

And yeah MC will respect the established hierarchy, but still calls out the others’ BS and isn’t afraid to challenge him

Something that the others clearly are hesitant to do

So this puny, fragile (by demon standards) human having no qualms about voicing their opinion to Diavolo amuses the heck out of him and he probably appreciates it

They have an interesting relationship going forward, complete with their own set of jokes and clapbacks and they probably give Lucifer a heart attack the first couple of times

MC doesn’t realize anything’s amiss and is just interacting with Diavolo as normal, but Diavolo is purposefully messing with Lucifer

Lucifer bristles and is about to tell MC off when Diavolo just laughs or silently waves him off

Probably either questions Diavolo directly or asks Barbatos about it afterwards

MC just not giving a damn about the human-devil-celestial differences

“You want my soul? Fucking work for it”

[zer0-ner0]

Mr. Høcker’s execution and torture price list!

Well, while researching for my comic, i found a bit of fun info that i thought i would share! A price list from 1698 of the services that Norwegian executioner Augustus Høcker provides! 

-But, since it’s only in Norwegian, your humble servant will present to you an English translation, and afterwards some history and facts for the ones of you feeling extra frisky!

Some disclaimers: i’ll translate it very literally, so that would be the cause of any fun grammar, also, i’m Danish, not Norwegian, so what I might believe to be weird spelling, might, in fact, just be Norwegian, haha.

without further ado, the translation of the price list found here https://no.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustus_H%C3%B8cker : 

Chart 1: Price list for the executioner 1698

• For a head with a sword to chop off - 10 Riksdaler, around 570$ in current prices 

• For a head with an axe to chop off - 8 Rdl., around 458 $

• For a hand or a finger to chop off - 4 Rdl., around 229 $

• For a head and a hand to be put on a pole*, for each 2 Rdl. - 4 Rdl., 229$

• For someone to hang - 10 Rdl., 570$

• For someone to take down from the gallows - 4 Rdl., 229$

• For someone to be put on the breaking wheel*² - 7 Rdl., 400$

• For someone to be put on the breaking wheel, and break their arms and legs - 14 Rdl., 800$

• For a body to be buried in the ground*³ - 3 Rdl., 172 $

• For a dead body to be removed from the town - 2 Rdl., 114 $

• For someone to be flayed and put on the wheel - 12 Rdl., 686 $

• For every pinch with burning tongs*⁴ - 2 Rdl., 114 $

• To brand - 4 Rdl., 229 $

• For flogging at the pillory - 5 Rdl., 286$

• To flog out of the city *⁵ - 4 Rdl., 229$

• To deport out of the city and the shire - 4 Rdl., 229$

• To burn a body *⁶ - 10 Rdl., 570$

• To write the perpetrators name on the gallows *⁷ - 2 Rdl., 114$

• To burn pasquinades or other similar things *⁸ - 3 Rdl., 172$

That’s it! At first it doesn’t seem too bad, huh? I mean, look at that paycheck! But upon further inspection, we can truly see how abhorred the handling of the dead (and soon to be) were. But well, i won’t take up anymore dashboard space for the uninterested, so further explanations, thoughts and info under the cut! 

Some facts on the “services”:

*  For a head and a hand to be put on a pole  - Putting the condemned’s right hand and/or head on poles, were of course used as a warning to show what would happen to whoever felt the urge to break the law. As is visible on the price however, this practice were usually reserved for cases were you really needed to prove a point - like if you had a traitor of the kingdom or an extra horrible criminal, not only would it be considered extra degrading having their rotting bodies on display, but people not making it to the execution might also get a chance to catch a glimpse of these special individuals! The poles would either welcome travelers outside the gates of the city, or outside the court.

*²  For someone to be put on the breaking wheel - The breaking wheel. You guys might be familiar with it, but it took the young me such a long time to grasp my head around. Because, it’s just a wheel. that’s it. That’s all there is to it. I was so angry as a kid at this. I read about all these gruesome creative torture devices, manufactured to inspire fear in even the most hardened of people! The chair of torture, the brazen bull, the Judas cradle, the iron maiden! AND LETS NOT FORGET WHEEL. you literally just strap a person to a wheel and break their limps with a big hammer. WHEEL IS NOT A CREATIVE COLOR.

*³ For a body to be buried in the ground - I’m not sure if this is supposed to be a living or dead body, on the next point [For a dead body to be removed from the town] it is pointed out that the body is dead. Either way, the burying of live bodies (with the victims head overground), were used as a method of torture. And for extra treatment, you would get honey and milk poured on you! - huh, sounds like something from a wellness brochure? Just wait ‘till all the bugs, worms, birds and critters starts pecking and gnawing your face!

*⁴ For every pinch with burning tongs - Now, it says pinch, but it should be understood as a pinch.. And a pull. Ripping the flesh off with scorching metal pliers - and a good place to start would be the armpits. cus, you know. try grabbing it. would be pretty easy to get a good chunk of skin off, right? uwaa..

*⁵ To flog out of the city - This was often combined with some other practices (many tortures were, i wonder if you had some 2 for 1 deals). But especially “adulteresses” would first be buried alive, then dug up, flogged at the pillory and then flogged out of the city. You wouldn’t go back after something like that.

*⁶ To burn a body - again, not stating whether this body is alive or dead, i can only imagine that - with a price like that - this would indeed be a living person. 

*⁷ To write the perpetrators name on the gallows - now, the meaning of this one can actually be explained pretty well with an old danish proverb “mit navn slaaet paa Galgen” which translated is “ My name put on the gallows “. If your name are put on the gallows - according to the proverb - people are saying bad things about you. And well, if people are walking past their local gallows and seeing “John Doe, child murderer, probably in league with the devil”, they might start to reconsider their friendships with the rest of the Doe household. And they might start to talk about Jane Doe, who has been acting weird lately. And who is to say that little John Doe Junior isn’t in fact the Antichrist? You get where i’m going? 

The schandbild/Pittura infamante - This is a good example of the degradation of being hanged and put on display - here together with their families coats of arms inverted. That’s some strong symbolism right there.

*⁸ To burn pasquinades or other similar things - this took me some research to figure out, because a pasquinade (paskville in Norwegian), is the hinge of a window frame in danish. And i had absolutely no idea how a small metal hinge could contain so much wretchedness and evil, that only an executioner could handle it. Well, a bit of research revealed that a pasquinade is in fact anonymous satiric writing that you would put up around town. It’s... medieval shit posts. And how many times haven’t you stumbled upon such anonymous internet writings and wished you could scorch them from the face of the earth? Still, this last one is just wonderful, looking at the price. Did the executioner have to walk around and collect these posts too? Or did he just fucking hate burning these stupid papers that much, feeling that it was definitely more exhausting than tearing off the flesh of a living being with hot tongs? Why couldn’t the court burn them? Were these papers really so unholy that only a condemned executioner could lay his hands on them? WHO KNOWS! I’m done with historical research for today, haha

  References and pictures:   Prices For calculating the prices in current money, i researched about a workers average pay now and then, and prices for bread and houses - we of course don’t use Rigsdaler anymore in Denmark or Norway (Norway were a part of Denmark at the time of Høcker, so we have the same coin), and i couldn’t find much info on what a Rigsdaler would be in our modern currency, so i had to do some math and research and calculations. And, well, i’m neither an historian, mathematician or economican (?), So the calculations are far from perfect, but they should somehow match up. I used the lowest prices that i acquired with my research, so he could in fact be earning much more, but still, it gives you an Idea. The reference sites are in danish!: http://www.thorshoj.dk/moenter_og_sedler.htm http://www.aros-innovation.dk/Stam/stam-2012-Opdelt/diverse/Rigsdaler.pdf

Pictures Header picture: Detail of Les Grandes Misères de la guerre, Plate 14 by  Jacques Callot, 1633

Heads on the breaking wheel, Copenhagen 1727, from the royal library. - i unfortunately can’t find the source

The hanged men, Schandbrief der Grafen von Schaumburg, Staatsarchiv Wolfenbüttel, unknown artist, 1541-42 

WELL, I congratulate everyone who’ve actually made it to the bottom of this wall of probably incredibly boring text, BUT HEY THANKS FOR READING!

[pocharryfics]

hi!! do u mind writing a drabble inspired by harry and his motorcycle?

At this point in your relationship, you would have thought that Harry would have learned not to question your choice in movies - if you had selected something for the two of you to watch, it undoubtedly served some purpose in one way or another. Many of your favorites growing up had become matriculated into his own film collection and more often than not, he preferred the choices you made to his own.

But when you had cued up Grease 2 instead of its more universally popular predecessor, he couldn’t contain himself and his reservations had surfaced before he had the time or forethought to stop it.

“Why’re we watchin’ that one? It’s awful.”

You had heard that phrase recited almost verbatim anytime you chose to watch this film with someone and each time you gave the same response.

“Have you ever seen Grease 2 before?”

The immediate reply was almost always the same as well.

“No.”

“No? Well how do you know it’s bad if you’ve never seen it?”

That usually begets stunned silence, and you always seize advantage of that moment of disbelief to make your case.

“The problem is that people always compare it to the first one. As a standalone film, it’s not bad at all actually and it has pretty good songs.”

Harry was still unconvinced, looking as though he’d much rather just watch the original, but held out his arms open for you nonetheless and settled in for the movie.

Around halfway through the film is when it all started to piece together for Harry and he understood your obsession with the underappreciated film. Certain songs you would hum along to or contently nod your head at, but the “Cool Rider” scene in the auditorium is what really got you on your feet.

It was your favorite song in the entire film and while Harry wasn’t as entranced by the magic of it all, he was certainly endeared by it - for the most part just enjoying you enjoying the film.

“So he’s gonna become a greaser an’ try to win her over?”

“Oh Harry, it’s so romantic, too! He becomes this super cool biker badass and sweeps her right off her feet when she’s at work,” you cooed, humming along to the final notes as Michelle Pfeiffer danced off screen.

“Mmmm. Well thanks for the spoilers, love. S’not like I wanted to see it for myself,” Harry teased, pulling you back against his chest and tucking a bit of your hair out of his face.

“Sorry, I just really love that bit. Ever since I was a little girl I always fantasized about a handsome guy on a motorcycle pulling up and picking me up from school. I know it’s silly, but watching this movie just reminds me of that.”

Harry only nods and squeezes you a bit tighter. You were being so uncharacteristically adorable that he couldn’t help but soak it in as much as he could and when that particular scene came on, he understood the appeal. The masked motorcyclist had showed up to the gas station where she worked, rescued her from rude customers, and they had literally drove off into to the sunset together. Who wouldn’t be endeared by that? He had even swooned a bit so he couldn’t imagine how dreamy this would have been to you as a little girl.

A slow smirk spread across his face as an idea occurred to him. He quickly peered down at you to make sure your eyes were still focused on the screen. When he saw that they were, he grabbed his cell and thumbed a quick message to Ben Winston - he’d need to make an unexpected visit to his home very soon.

You were unbelievably exhausted. In what could have only been a few minutes, your political science professor had droned on for what seemed like hours on a side tangent about the electoral college. Usually you wouldn’t have minded this - it contextualized the lessons as well as helped improve your understanding and gave a brief reprieve from the vigilant note taking you had been doing - but the next exam was two weeks away and there was still material that needed to be covered.

It seemed that your fellow classmates held the same reservations, some going as far as closing their laptops altogether. The chances of your professor finishing up the tangent and providing any additional information pertinent to the exam in these last few minutes of the lecture were slim.

“You got any plans after this?” Your study buddy Sylvia whispered to you, trying to discreetly pack away their belongings.

“Nah, just gonna head up to the library and look over my notes,” you quietly replied.

“Good, cause I wasn’t here last class and had missed the lecture. Can I see your notes?”

“Sure,” you hummed.

“Well that’s about it for today, folks. The study guide is posted online and I’ll be available Tuesday and Thursday during my office hours if you have any questions. See you all on Wednesday afternoon.”

The lecture hall emptied out as if the building were on fire, dozens of dead-eyed and weary academics shambling for refuge outside. You knew that available space in the library was scarce at this time of day and that if you stood any chance of grabbing a seat then you would have to get a move on soon. A much-needed caffeine fix would have to wait until then and a proper meal even more so and you hoped that the sharp hunger pains wouldn’t dull your concentration too much.

A sudden and thunderous roar ripped through the campus quad - sleek, lean, and impressively glossy, a motorcycle drifted a corner and pulled up on the curb.

The masked motorcyclist had a thousand eyes on him, most everyone in the quad staring. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the engine of the howling machine had ceased its clamor as its rider turned the key. A plethora of coeds strutted past his bike, flipping their hair and waving in hopes of catching the mystery mans attention but he seemed to only have eyes for his phone. You and Sylvia rolled your eyes and shared an exasperated laugh as the spurned ladies huffed at the rejection.

A low buzz emitted from the right pocket of your sweatpants. You slid your thumb across the screen to unlock the device and the message that read nearly made you drop the phone.

Your head whipped up from your phone and you swore you could see the smirk underneath the helmet. In retrospect, you should have known it was Harry the second he had pulled up. Those famous boots were recognizable almost anywhere and if you weren’t so exhausted you would have noticed it sooner.

Just gonna stand there and pretend like you don’t see me?

No fucking way.