#LIKE IT WAS SO FUN WITH ALL THE GOATS AND SHI

[cxthycc]

OMG PE WAS SO FUN LIKE WE GO TO PET ANIMALS SICNE WE WERE BEING INTRODUCED TO OUR LIKE AFA CLASS OMG OMG

[soumyajitg461]

😞Maybe you cried after reading this 😔

Master Tigress Origin: In the ancient China, tiger's protect everyone from the Evil spirits and demon's. In that time a famous emperor rules Over the "Lanzhu" City. Name - "Qin shi huan"- he build the "Great Wall of China" to protect everyone from the demon's and monsters. He also created terracotta army tradition, And he is the first emperor who unified all States in one piece in China. He had Two Son's - Name - Fusu his Eldest son and Wuxi his youngest son. After his father's death. One day a powerfull demon attack in "Lanzhu City" and attacks on everyone and Steals everyone's life force. Wuxi died during that war. But that demon is still alive. Fusu attack that Demon Until he sickly Injured, Fusu and his wife somehow Escape from there, fusu Oaths i will kill that demon someday! and Travel through lands and lands for Help. They found a Village and they start living there. After a Year they have a Child a girl with beautiful eyes, and smooth fur they give her a name- (Àixīyǒng) after some days later that demon Attack that village also. Fusu attack that Demon but his wife says we need to protect our Child first. Fusu: Agree with his wife but Hesitatedly. He realised he needs to protect his daughter first. So they leave that Village and came in the valley of peace They found this valley covered with mountains and bamboo forest, but there everyone gets fear from them and says you are a monster leave our village! because they never seen a tiger before.. so Fusu and his wife were leaving. They see a Orphanage near at the valleys End. They leave (Àixīyǒng) mean Tigress at the front door. And go away... The End.

Ok maybe you was thinking.. why valley's people are so rude and mad at them. because in that time, in the valley of peace only Sheep's, goats, goose's, Rabbits,Ox Resident's. I means This all are prey of tiger so They hate tiger's. We seen this before in the Kung fu panda secret of the furious 5 (master Tigress episode) That's why when owner of the Bao gau Orphanage and other Children discover that it's a baby of tigers they are so fricking mad. That's why they call her a ( MONSTER )

But this is not truth She is just so much powerful and she has sharp claws and sharp tooth's.

When I was a kid i wonder why tigress get's so angry all time? But now I know Why she always look like she is angry. But actually She is firm, disciplined, focused, careful. And another reason is Shifu's rude behaviour you know always mood off person 😁 from Tigress's childhood she lost her parents, her home, and shifu rises her through hard training without any friends, and shifu never show Pride and much love to her. Cause shifu afraid from ti lung's past happens. Ohh that's so horrible 😨 for tigress. When Tigress is younger shifu train her like this.. tigress wake up in the morning and starts kung fu traning and it's end's at afternoon. I mean she missed all Fun,happiness, humour, friends. Ohh my god! Just think guys, like She is a robot that just Obbying Shifu's Oder. That's why she looks angry always. But truth' is She is empty from inside. She is always tries to be serious and focused. Also She knows how exactly someone feels when someone lost their parents. that's why she understands Po. And THAT'S WHY SHE IS WORTHY FOR THE DRAGON WARRIOR TITLE. ( KFP 4 sucks 😞)

And one last thing... (Àixīyǒng) It is Chinese name. That Means-

* 愛 (ài):Love

* 希 (xī): Hope

* 勇 (yǒng): Bravery, courage

[s30620]

Story 75: The Shikisai Festival

Master Shiguma? More like Master Shi-GOAT-ma lol. Gotta tighten the loincloth... of your heart that is! All of the ani-san are so silly this chapter. Koguma with his socially anxious side and his performance side. Kyoji getting drunk on wine chocolates. Maikeru being... Maikeru?? lol. What a fun, wholesome chapter.

[ehlnofay]

ask meme!! (sorry these are not in list order 😭)

for Arabella: 🙂🎨🔮🧸🤝

AND. for Efri: 🐾🎁🔮♦️🍳

for arabella:

🙂: What are three of their personality traits that others would generally consider positive? this is a very interesting question, because I think generally character flaws are neutral traits gone too far and arabella doesn't do anything by halves... arabella is a very charismatic person and easy to get along with when she wants to be, which makes her likeable. she is undeniably courageous and copes well in dangerous circumstances, so she's a good person to have around in dire straits (providing she's not the thing causing them). as unreliable as she can be she is almost never motivated by malice; fundamentally she would rather help people than hurt them, and will gladly go out of her way to do so (if she feels like it; and as long as it doesn't conflict with her self-interest.) 🎨: What is their color scheme? Or at least colors you associate them with? I associate her mostly with red - I think in part because it's so bright and bold and just suits her well, and partly because I think it's one of the most accessible types of pigments in green pact valenwood. when I draw her I tend to use blue as well, for contrast, and because I think for her it represents luxury - since in valenwood it's only available as a mineral pigment, which is more expensive and difficult to acquire than animal-derived dyes like cochineal. 🔮: If they were to feature in the art of a tarot card, which one would it be and why? the tower. arabella shies away from stability; she's become most comfortable in upheaval. she is an unforeseen catastrophe. plus the imagery is cool 🧸: What was their favorite childhood toy and why? I think she had one of those whistles that's shaped and kind of sounds like a bird. carried it in her pocket everywhere for a few years. thought it was hysterical to blow it at surprising and inopportune moments 🤝: How do they express platonic affection? When does an acquaintance become a friend for them? hmm... I don't think arabella draws a great distinction between an acquaintance and a friend. she's a) a very social person, b) used to moving around a lot, and c) used to just lying about everything all the time. circumstances have not historically lent themselves to close and honest relationships, so anyone who she has fun talking to is a friend in her book. there's a much wider gap between a friend and someone she would be willing to put herself in the not-fun kind of danger for or be at all honest with (things she ranks on Exactly The Same Level) - she's very chummy with brynjolf from day one but it takes months and a strong external incentive to tell him anything about the reasons she acts like she does, and even then she can only manage it if they both pretend that's not what she's talking about. (she's ridiculous. I love her so much.) she's very physically affectionate regardless - enjoys touching her friends in the manner of a sibling trying to be irritating - but is mindful of their comfort and is rarely the first to initiate contact.

for efri:

🐾: How do they feel about animals? Do they have/want any pets? Do they have a favorite animal? efri's primary experience with animals is of course her old herd of goats. they were livestock, not pets, so she never developed any specific attachments to any one or the other of them, but she viewed the herd as a single unit as a sort of companion and still thinks of them fondly after she leaves them in a cave. she thinks animals in general are very cool but doesn't particularly want the responsibility of a pet. her favourite animal is whichever one is currently in her line of sight 🎁: If they needed to give a friend a gift, how would they go about choosing one? Would they buy it, make it, or do something else? Would others consider them good at gift-giving? she might be more likely to buy if she had money and access to more interesting shops, but generally when efri gives gifts they are found or made; she gives jouane flowers, sissel one of her twin brooches, kazari a cool blue rock (looks nice on a shelf). she is very good at gift giving if you are the kind of person who likes a cool blue rock, but as a child with no money she doesn't have any way to give you much else 🔮: If they were to feature in the art of a tarot card, which one would it be and why? knight of wands!! its associations with impulse and adventure are very fitting, efri can very easily see herself as a knight-adjacent figure, and it has a STICK ♦️: Are there any motifs you associate with them? What do those motifs represent thematically? since I'm still figuring out efri's storyline it's hard to say... one that I would say is her light. earlier on in her story there's this whole scattered narrative using magic light as representative of freedom/happiness/self-sufficiency (without the counterdepencence) which I like a lot and which might develop further as the storyline unfolds 🍳: Are they good at cooking? Do they like to? Why and how did they learn to cook, or, if they didn't, why didn't they? efri's cooked for herself for a while now. she's not good at following recipes but she enjoys improvising meals and seeing what she can come up with. when she's travelling with kazari and sissel, she's usually the one trying to figure out how to change up the fish they've caught from the creek to make it a bit more exciting; she's delighted to learn from the cooking of the khajiiti caravan afterwards

[hulijingemperor2]

Jingyi and Rusong: *walking down the hall with A-Yao*

Yao: firstly we'll go meet A-niang, and then we'll head to my secret room.

Jingyi: whaaatttt??? You have a secret room?!! So hanguang Jun was right! Well he always is.

Yao: yes I do have a secret room.

But now it's situated in Jing Manor. Well in my bedroom.

It's only accessed by a mirror.

Jingyi: that's so cool. Rusong, did you go there?!

Rusong: yup. Only very few people can go into A-Die's secret room. Team d, Xichen, Nainai and myself.

If someone out of that circle wishes to enter, they have to ask A-Die for permission, and go under his supervision.

Jingyi: what's so secretive about the place.

Yao: hence the name, secret room.

It has manuscripts, books, various weapons and torture devices that I collected from the Wens and the sunshot campaign. Some fox spirit stuff as well. My secret room is kind of the treasury of the empire.

Jingyi: wow.

Yao: my collections would always help the defense force in some way.

Jingyi: isn't your secret room in jinlintai?

Yao: it's here now.

Thanks to Minshan, he moved all my relics here, with the help of his teleportation talismans.

He brought my mirrors and everything.

Jingyi: didn't know that loser could do anything, than copy Hanguang Jun. I can't believe I have to see that book stealer.

Yao: *a little furious*

Rusong: Jingyi.

Yao: as er Dianxia, you should have respect for my team. They're my elite.

Insulting them is like insulting Huangdi.

Jingyi: mn. Ok Huangdi Diedie.

Yao: right.

*smile*

Jingyi: i like xue yang out of the three by the way.

Yao: suit yourself.

But team dimple is one. They move and function as one.

Jingyi: ohh. Diedie, what will we do afterwards?

Yao: we'll party.

Jingyi: are you serious!!

Yao: well yea! You're my son now, so obviously I'll throw a party.

The empire must recognize you as the second Wangzi.

Jingyi: gonna be lit!!!

Yao: however, Yi'er, there are some things you got to learn. It's just minor things. Song'er will teach you.

Rusong: *smile*

Jingyi: ok. I'm up for it. And Rusong isn't old and boring like Lan qiren.

Yao: *laughing* right!

Rusong: yes A-Yi, I won't put you to sleep, lol.

Rusong: first lesson.

Let me tell you how to greet taihou, our Nainai.

Eternal flower Pavillion 📍. (Meng Shi's residence)

Yao: A-niang.

Meng Shi: hi Yao'er, works done? *strokes head*

Yao: yes.

Rusong: Nainai. *kisses her hand respectfully*

Yao: I have adopted someone, A-niang. Introducing my second son, Lan Jingyi.

Jingyi: *bows* greetings taihou. *kisses her hand like Rusong*

Meng shi: awww! What a darling. Lan too?

Jingyi: yes.

Meng Shi: cute cute. Just call me Nainai, dear.

Stressed about the lan sect?

Jingyi: very stressed! I hate the long boring classes. And I decided on having a better life with Rusong and Huangdi diedie.

Meng Shi: oh my.

Jingyi: but I would miss pranking that old goat.

Meng Shi: *cracking up* old goat! Loooll!! You seem like a handful, Yi'er. You and Song'er are planning on wreaking havoc in Jing Manor?

*pinches their cheeks* then you're going to spend all your Diedie's money.

Rusong: that's my job, Nainai.

Jingyi: and it's mine too!

Meng Shi: ahhhh, what a pair! A-Yao, you have beautiful children indeed, and a beautiful family.

Yao: I agree, thank you.

A-niang, we're having a party later.

Meng Shi: splendid! Your hulijing citizens would love to see your fabulous fam! *fixing A-Yao's hat and hair* cutie pie.

Yao: *smiling*

Meng Shi: A-yi, if you're clueless about being a Wangzi, look at A-Song. He's a natural.

Jingyi: ok Nainai. I'll master it!! But I'll still talk shit.

Meng Shi: *laughing* so be it.

Yao: just be you.

Jingyi: of course! And I know you guys have a reputations, so I'll try to be on my best behavior.

Meng Shi: marvelous. And Song'er is here with you.He has adapted A-Yao's elegance, politeness and sophistication, and he's now moulded into a well respected Wangzi.

Rusong: *wraps his arm around his neck in a friendly way* yea dude. We'll have fun.

Meng Shi: so you're maybe very fond of Zewu Jun. He's Lan gui fei here, as he's married to A-Yao.

Jingyi: ahahahaha! Lan gui fei! Yes! But I like his brother, Lan Wangji!

Meng shi: oh. The guy who attacked my son.

*sarcasm* Lovely.

Jingyi: but he was awesome doing it! I aspire to be Hanguang Jun!!!......... I'm very sorry, Nainai.

You guys got bad blood with the lans.

Meng Shi: not quite. I like Lan gui fei and Madam Lan.

Jingyi: Madam who? Qiren had a wife????????

Rusong: no Jingyi. She's Qingheng Jun's wife. Lan wangji and Lan Xichen's mom.

Jingyi: huh. Guess I forgot. I'm mostly absent minded.

Yao: Song'er went to the cloud recesses for 5 years. But under private tuition under my Lan xichen. He used his Jin name, Jin Rusong. And he hid his hulijing identity and status.

Jingyi: riiigghhhtt!!! He used to hang with us, and Jinling would be overprotective just because he's his cousin.

Meng Shi: ohh. See, you know our Song'er.

Jingyi: yea. But I didn't know that he was a Wangzi.

Yao: lol. Well that was the plan.

To have him completely camouflaged.

~~

Afterwards, they went to A-Yao's secret room.

Jingyi: *sprinting all over the room, observing every relic* wowww!!!

Is that a hulijing weapon?! Are those razor guqin strings?! Talismans! Swords! This dagger?

Yao: I see you're very interested in my collections. And that dagger belonged to Wen Ruohan.

I have more daggars too.

Jingyi: can I touch them?

Yao: unfortunately no. They're spiritual weapons. You might get hurt.

Jingyi: do you trap fox spirits?

Yao: no. It's very inhumane.

Jingyi: *reading a manuscript* the way of a hulijing. Diedie! Can you turn me into a hulijing???

Yao: there's no need. And you're perfect just the way you are.

Jingyi: fineeee!!

Rusong, how aren't you astonished?

Rusong: I know everything here. Also I once fell asleep on A-Die's sofa.

Jingyi: cool!

What are those things on your desk?

Yao: maps of the empire, strategies and other things. Huangdi stuff.

*sits*

Have a seat guys.

Yao: other than defense strategies. I have some imperial stuff too. *takes a box from off the shelf and rests it on his desk.

Jingyi: what's that?

Yao: *opens* your guan.

Jingyi: is that gold and Jade?

Yao: mhm.

Wear this with your new outfit at the party.

Jingyi: oh heck yea! I'll be all dripped out!

But what do you mean new outfit? Do I have to go buy? Diedie I don't have money.

Rusong: *laughing slighly*

Yao: A-Yi, why are you so worried. Most of our clothes are custom made, and sometimes bought for us.

Jingyi: ohhh.

Yao: *opens another box* here's your ceal. It's for your protection, as it will prevent your energy from being sucked out.

Hulijings will identify you as their second Wangzi.

Also, it may grant you some abilities.

Jingyi: like?!

Yao: summoning hulijings.

Song'er has the same ceal, but since he's already a hulijing, he would give it to others he wishes to protect.

Rusong: yep.

Yao: everyone has a ceal.

Jingyi: interesting.

Yao: but don't misuse your power, Yi'er.

Jingyi: mn. I won't.

Yao: I believe that you would be responsible.

Now I must plan the party for tomorrow.

Jingyi: Diedie, will there be a chocolate fountain?

Yao: do you want one?

Jingyi and Rusong: YES!!!

Yao: well there will be a chocolate fountain.

Rusong: you're the best.

Jingyi: super awesome!

Yao: *smiles*

Both: *kisses him respectfully on his dimples*

Yao: you two will look really gorgeous in your new outfits.

Well the Mengs are known for being beautiful.

Jingyi: you got that right.

Rusong: well. Shall we go practice some things?

Jingyi: yea! I want to see how to be a Wangzi.

Let's go Rusong.

Rusong: mn. See you soon, A-Die. *smile*

Yao: yes. See you soon, Song'er.

Love you both.

~~~

Jingyi: ok Rusong, what's the first lesson!

Rusong: accessories.

Here's a fan.

Jingyi: uhh *awkwardly holding it* isn't this for women?

Rusong: no. It's for the gents too. I use it, A-Die uses it. And even Huaisang.

Jingyi: do I have to.

Rusong: yea, to convey elegance. And subliminal messages.

Jingyi: like?

Rusong: A-Die has fans that convey messages. Like for example, some of his fans have "peace*, "fruitfulness" and "splendor" written on them,

I also do the same.

Jingyi: that's awesome! Can I write F off on my fan?

Rusong: *laughing* no!

Jingyi: I find that would be hilarious.

Rusong: it kinda would be. But it's not the time.

Jingyi: got it!

Rusong: now lemme give you some more info.

Jingyi: all ears.

[chaingazer]

U can’t comedown if u high on life. Sometimes it’s just that I need a reminder. I love my family, I love my sister even though sometimes I don’t show it. I love my brother, he’s such a fun and weird creature I can’t wait to see him grow up. My parents are foreground human beings. Like fuck they’ve only ever wanted the best for me and sometimes I don’t really see it, I wanna say my thanks now so that I don’t have to overcompensate 10 years in the future when I realize all they’ve done for me. My life is really blessed. I know I’ve had some tougher times with my parents but I want to tell them one day it was because I was going through something like some depression shi but I overcame it and I want to be closer. I’m writing this to keep myself to this. Become closer with those close around you. I love you close friends. Mark you’re so nice, always calling me and shi genuinely such a kind soul, it hilarious and beautiful. I wish I could call him right now. Shamar ur the goat, we been off it together so we know how we feel. I really love you, I feel like we been through a lot together and I’m only pray in that we stay close. Maybe it’s the md taking idk. I don’t really have hella close friends ngl. Not a great thing but one or two more would be nice. It’s 4am right now with 2hollis and a great playlist in my ears. Chewing some gum on the bathroom floor. I like Hassan too he cool. Momo ofc. It’s all organic. I never want to be forced. I want to get better with my music, school is stress but I’ll try. Gotta achieve my dreams and have my fallbacks lol

[stirringwinds]

will you do a character sheet for yao? please roast this old man

this is my personal take on him (partly biased by how he’s basically one of my great-grandpas and it’s always my duty to roast him). CW for some body horror. 

1. He might've changed his surname to 皇 (huang; emperor) instead of 王 (wang; king) if not for the First Emperor. Because there can be Only One. After Qin Shi Huang kicked the bucket, he could do whatever he wanted of course, but 王 just stuck. I think he may have changed his name at various points throughout history, but he’s partial to 王 after all this time and he usually comes back to it. 

2. Heavy smoker nowadays. Bad habit that he knows he should break but he has a hard time doing so. He’s like “smh can’t believe the fucking PSI is 400 again in Beijing” *lights up a pack of zhonghuas*. He’s trying, though. Keep going, old man. 😔

3. Vietnam/Lien has all the receipts on him; she’s pretty old too. One huge flaw I see Yao having is that he can be pretty condescending at times. And he may often depict himself as being Pretty Chill and just generously dispensing Confucius, writing systems, Taoism, fashion styles and other fun things to his neighbours “unlike those Western Barbarian Empires” (very untrue). Lien: You lying old goat, I fought multiple wars against your dynasties and that’s even before the 20th century!* (shoutout to my grandma’s side of the family). 

4. Very adventurous, cuisine-wise. A really good cook and gourmet. He can take really, really spicy food no problem. 

5. He can be kind of flashy in the present, similarly to Alfred (especially Alfred during the Gilded Age). Bigger is better, conspicuous consumption. His sunglasses probably cost $5000. Kind of has an outrageous architecture phase; had a glass bridge obsession for a while.

6. Very tech-savvy. He was slow about it at first, but from the 90s onwards the old man figured it all out. Sometimes he’s way too online, honestly. Has a weibo/wechat. Uses a VPN to circumvent the Great Firewall all the damned time. 

7. Has a sort of “mandate of heaven” mentality towards political authority, up till the present. Basically, mandate of heaven was the idea that an incompetent ruler could be justly overthrown and in ye old days, natural and human disasters might be seen as proof that a king/emperor had lost heaven’s mandate. Basically a ready-made philosophy justifying regime-change (or pushing out one leader for the next). Overall, I see him being quite ruthlessly pragmatic, skeptical and not really very sentimental towards any particular form of political authority/institutions (compared to the way Arthur or some other Old World nations might view their monarchies as part of tradition, or the way say, Alfred might talk about American democracy) —he’s very much a “does this work, does this give me economic growth” (think Deng’s Xiaopeng’s “It doesn't matter whether a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice") sort of person nowadays. I think he can be that way with some leaders too; there are some humans important to his history that he is fond of and attached to, but there’s also a bit of that ‘I’m 4,000 years old—and I’ve seen so many emperors come and go’ sort of jadedness. 

8. Has been beheaded so many times throughout history that he’s pretty blase about it (and probably took great pleasure scaring the fuck out of whichever new emperor who made the mistake of thinking that this Eldritch Old Man could be disposed of that easily). 

[spyrkle4]

Modern/College Ark AU bc why not

I can’t believe im typing this XD this game has become my newest hyperfixation 

---

-Santiago and Diana share a lot of their classes together and are basically study buddies

-Mei Yin is the captain of the fencing team and she met Diana after one of the tournaments and Diana wanted her autograph XD

-Santiago 100% teases the hell out of Di for her crush and she hates it

-Mei Yin still has her tames in the form of them being regular pets, like Wuzhui and the other raptors are like bearded dragons, Ao Yue is maybe a timor monitor, Shi is one of those large dog breeds that look scary but he’s a softie, and Xiao is still a goat that probably has a neon glow-in-the-dark collar

-The Demon King is basically this pet komodo dragon and everyone is Terrified of it like, and the rumors go crazy abt why the fencing team captain has one of those

-Nerva is from the rival fencing team and he and Mei Yin have this intense rivalry the matches between them usually get lot of tickets bc woah they are intense

-Helena is at the same college of the gang but she takes more biology classes, though she does share a computer class with Santiago

-Raia and John are present in this AU but as Helena’s cool adoptive parents that have 1 cat and 3 dogs (the sabertooth and the wyverns respectively)

-The dogs are various mixed breeds and their name in the AU are Ember, Thunder, and Venom (to reference them being wyverns in the original Ark)

-Oh yeah Rockwell is also around but as a professor, he’s Helena’s favorite professor 

-Professor Rockwell is just your good ol’ natured science grandpa that gets a little too intense in terms of lab experiments but he’s not obsessed or anything hahaha

-Diana doesn’t like him bc in her opinion he gives too much homework XD

(more under the cut)

-Santiago sometimes crashes over at Helena’s house bc his home is Complicated (he doesn’t like talking about it but his friends can tell he doesn’t like living in his household)

-He stays over so much at this point Raia and John are like “yeah this is our kid now”

-Jokingly Helena will refer to Santiago as “little brother” bc she’s taller than him and he acts like he hates it but secretly finds it funny (they’re about the same age)

-the grad students are just freshmen and basically gremlins, Trent is also on the fencing team, Rusty as well and he and Trent have a friendly rivalry

-Emilia shares one of Santiago’s classes, he is surprised that she looks up to him

-Helena @ Boris at some point: What’s with this... sassy lost child?

-Boris is probably in the same biology class as Helena that’s taught by Rockwell, she is a little Afraid of this freshman who gets way too into Mad Scientist Mode

-Imamu has introvert energy so he doesn’t rly approach anyone but his friends, bit of a mystery how they all became friends in the first place (Helena would wonder abt that bc she’s nosy)

-Skye is also here as a video game enthusiast who wants to design dinosaur survival games (oh there goes the 4th wall) and Helena, a dinosaur nerd is happy to help them

-I feel like Skye is the only person outside of the grad student friend group to be buddies with Imamu, they just vibe 

-The core four (Helena, Mei Yin, Diana, and Santiago) all do movie nights at probably Helena’s house bc they can all fit onto the couch and pet all the dogs

-Mei Yin hates horror movies bc she never knows when there’s gonna be a random jumpscare (she’s not terrified of the plot, just the jumpscares), 

-Santiago is one of those people who laughs during the scary part bc horror movies don’t scare him (and it just scares the others bc they’re like “oh god what’s happening now”)

-Helena is a big fan of animal movies (esp found family ones), Diana is a sucker for Disney Princess movies and she 100% introduced Mei Yin to Mulan (I feel like she’d enjoy that movie) 

-they all get popcorn everywhere and it drives John crazy bc he’s the one who usually cleans it up but doesn’t complain bc he doesn’t want to ruin the kids fun

-Raia probably low-key adopts all of Helena’s friends (idk she just has Mom energy okay???)

-Athena and Archimedes are the school mascots that are usually Feral if any student tries to touch them, Rockwells the one who handles them and was Genuinely Surprised that they didn’t hiss or screech when Helena approached them

-Helena had been dubbed “the animal whisperer” by the school for that

-Radar is still Helena’s pet, she still rides around on her shoulder, even in class (and that’s when people started calling her a modern disney princess)

-Helena is confused bc the gossip bc she thinks if anyone is a disney princess it’s Mei Yin (who owns like 50 animals and is cool at fencing)

-Santiago probably takes part in some of the school gossip bc he’s nosy and it’s usually wild and hilarious most of the time

[yandere-daydreams]

What do you think kenma and akaashi from haikyuu!! would be like sharing a darling? They both seem quiet but dangerous

I went ahead and made this more of an Akaashi/Bokuto/Kuroo/Kenma piece, if only because I have so many feelings on those four and so few opportunities to write for them. It’s nice to see two Possessives desperately try to act like they couldn’t care less about their precious little Darling, too, even if they’re still trying their best.

Title: Kennel.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Imprisonment, Verbal Degradation, and Claustrophobia. 

~

In your defense, you never thought they’d actually use the kennel.

It’d been a looming threat since you first moved in. A large, barred cage with chipped paint and clean, white padding over the bottom bars, separating whatever poor creature forced inside of it from a back-ache any more painful than it had to be. It’d been tucked in the corner of your bedroom, and when prompted, Kozume only shrugged and informed you that they’d had an unruly mutt before you came around, whereas Akaashi tilted his head to the side and asked if you really wanted to know. He was right, of course, you hadn’t. You’d stopped pushing the topic, after that, resolving to lay a blanket over the top of the beat-up contraption and try your best to forget about it.

Looking back on it, you probably should’ve persisted. You should’ve made them throw it away back when your relationship was still mutually beneficial, or gotten rid of it yourself and dealt with the consequences as they arose. The punishment wouldn’t have been any better, but it would’ve been less cramped, less restrictive, and you were sure it wouldn’t last so long. Tight knots of something sharp and heavy were already tying themselves in your shoulder blades, your thighs, anywhere and everywhere they found space to settle. With your legs folded underneath you, your arms bent at odd angles and your head twisted just enough to test the flexibility of your neck, there wasn’t much you could do to move or relieve your claustrophobia, there wasn’t much you could do at all. The deadbolt on the kennel’s latch prevented you from letting yourself out, but you could think of a dozen better ways to hold yourself, a dozen more embarrassing positions that would’ve been so, so less painful. Still, two pairs of eyes held you in place with more suffocating weight than a kennel could ever hope to achieve.

Kozume’s gaze was curious. He hadn’t been the one to suggest this form of discipline, and yet, he looked at you with all the prying, inquisitive awe of a child seeing some strange, wondrous animal for the first time. Unlike Akaashi, who was currently pacing through the living room, fussing about how long your punishment would last and what you’d need when you came out, Kozume was content to sit at the side of your cage and stick his fingers through the thin, rectangular openings, probing at your cheek and attempting to goat you into biting at his hand or nuzzling against him, trying to force you into giving-in to his sterile affection or give him an excuse to make things much, much worse. Neutrality was the smartest option, albeit not your favored one.

Unfortunately, drawing blood was what got you into this situation. You weren’t eager to try something so short-sighted again. 

“Here, kitty,” He mumbled, softly, his tone almost light enough to make the request seem like a joke. A quick glance to his expression proved you wrong, though, his face all straightened lines and unwavering concentration. His seriousness was only furthered confirmed by the small huff he let out when you failed to comply, unsurprised but no less disappointed. As if he was the one who’d been shoved in a kennel and cooed over like a prized pet. “Akaashi,” He called, the name nearly stretching into a whine. “They’re not playing along. Can we try something else?”

“It’s been less than an hour,” Akaashi replied, coming to a stop in front of your crate. Only his feet were visible, at first, but he didn’t take long to kneel, one hand pushing his glasses back into place while the other held a bundle of tissues to his cheek, covering the three open, bleeding scratch-marks stretching from his cheekbone to his jaw. If you checked, you’d probably see that there was still blood under your finger-nails, that there were still bruises on your wrists and forearms from how roughly he saw fit to restrain you, but you kept yourself from checking. He was less open about his satisfaction than Kozume, but that didn’t mean his joy was nonexistent. It only meant he was better at concealing it. “It’s not supposed to be fun, for you or (Y/n). We can’t let them off the hook because you’ve lost interest.”

“I’m not saying we stop, I’m saying we try something different.” It was a grim clarification, but Akaashi wasn’t caught off-guard, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow, letting Kozume sigh and look away on his own. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t enjoy it. We’ll use a collar, keep the theme and everything. You can’t tell me that won’t be fun.”

“That’s not what I said.” You shied back, opting to take shelter in the farthest corner from either man. Akaashi didn’t sound angry, but it might’ve been better if he did, it might’ve made sense. Instead, you were left to gather what you could from his thin scowl, his narrowed gaze, his aggressive passivity to Kozume’s suggestions. He hardly spared you a glance before continuing, his tone never changing. It almost seemed worse than his companion’s inquisitive boredom. “Bokuto doesn’t like it when we leave marks, and he’ll be back by tomorrow. Kuroo will be mad, too, if we do anything before he comes back.”

Kozume didn’t respond to that, only dragging his knees up to his chest and glaring, a gesture Akaashi readily returned. It was how the two argued, once they decided they wouldn’t be able to come to a compromise. A wordless dispute, unlike the violent fits their counterparts were capable of, and more often than not, it only took a second or two to come to an end. This time, Akaashi seemed to be the victor, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as Kozume turned away, swatting at the side of your crate in displaced frustration. “You know we have to do something,” He went on, choosing to gloss over his defeat. “Shoving someone into time out isn’t going to teach them a lesson. You’re the one that got hurt, you should be mad.”

It might’ve been the way Kozume’s voice threatened to rise, the thoughtful glance Akaashi threw in your direction, the fact that you were in a cage and neither of them seemed to think it was ‘that bad’ - something. Panic flared in your chest, and suddenly, your fingers were clenched around the sleek, black bars, your mouth opening before you could think of that to say. “No,” You spat, hastily. “Please, this is bad enough, I’m not going to try anything--”

“Quiet, kitty.”

Your voice faltered, not because of the words themselves, but because they’d come from Akaashi’s tongue. Any traces of his contentment were gone in an instant, replaced with something displeased, something malicious. You moved to apologize, but Kozume was faster, following Akaashi’s lead. “We didn’t tell you to speak,” He snapped, the venom in his voice making up for whatever Akaashi lacked. “What’s your problem? Are you violent and disobedient? Or, are you too stupid to follow our commands-”

“No one asked for your opinion either, Kenma,” Akaashi added, silencing both you and his companion. Kozume crossed his arms, but he didn’t argue, allowing Akaashi to shake his head and sigh to his heart’s contentment, his refocused gaze soon centering on you, once he was done with his show of displeasure. “I don’t want to be angry, but it’s clear we haven’t been training (Y/n) as attentively as we should be. A crate isn’t going to make them any more respectful.” He paused, briefly, his scowl softening before disappearing completely. You couldn’t bring yourself to be thankful for the change, though.

Not when you were so abruptly aware of how much you loathed his smile.

“We might need to show our lovely, lovely pet what happens when it decides it doesn’t need our rules.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2

- Chapter 3 -

It seemed, to Meng Yao’s surprise, that there were in fact people like that; it was only that they were all apparently surnamed Nie and lived hidden away in a fortress deep in Qinghe, probably for the good of society.

Sect Leader Nie – known fondly to one and all as Lao Nie, an informality he encouraged – was at least more thoughtful than his son, insisting on a number of tests before he’d accept the child was his, which as a bit more in line with Meng Yao’s expectations. But even before the doctors had been called to check Meng Shi’s pulse he had already been listening without recrimination to Nie Mingjue’s excited plans about where they would stay and where the child’s room would be, and had only the mildest of criticism regarding his son’s decision to sell all his things to buy a Yunping whore to bring back to Qinghe.

The Nie clan, Meng Yao decided, were weird.

But not in a bad way – when the doctors confirmed that the date of conception was around the right time and that the child would more-likely-than-not have a gift for cultivation that his mother lacked, Lao Nie nodded and permitted Meng Shi to cross his threshold as an official concubine.

Not even a mistress! Official!

Sure, Lao Nie could divorce her if he wanted, but the mere act of marriage gave Meng Shi – and by extension, Meng Yao – security that they’d never had before, the right to many things they’d never had before: a solid foundation in the world for him, a married woman’s hairstyle and a place to be buried for her.

Meng Yao had worried at first that he would be reviled by Nie Mingjue’s mother as a bastard at best - a concubine’s baggage from before the marriage, infringing where he should not be; there were a thousand stories describing exactly what legitimate wives thought about people like that - but it didn’t take long for him to see that there was no other woman in Lao Nie’s life, excluding only his second-in-command who already had a wife of her own.

“Your mother died?” Meng Yao asked Nie Mingjue, his mind already spinning with the possibilities – having Meng Shi get officially named first wife was probably out of the question, since that would start gossip regarding the possibility of disinheriting Nie Mingjue, but if his mother could fill the position even a little, then maybe in the future…

“She’s gone,” Nie Mingjue corrected, and it took a while before Meng Yao understood that Nie Mingjue meant gone as in vanished or missing, not as in dead. According to the gossip, his mother was either a goddess or a rogue cultivator, but either way she hadn’t stayed much longer than a year or two past the time of her marriage to Lao Nie, with Nie Mingjue having been left to more or less raise himself ever since.

No wonder Nie Mingjue was such an open-minded idiot, believing in airy principles rather than rock-solid reality, Meng Yao thought, heart flush with fondness. He’d never had a mother to teach him any tricks.

Not that Meng Yao minded. On the contrary, he appreciated the benefits of that open-mindedness: for the first time in his life he had robes made of sturdy and comfortable material, finer than anything he’d owned before, with proper shoes made to fit him; he had teachers in all the subjects a gentleman should know, as much meat as he could ever want to eat, and even a room of his own, with a proper bed and a lock on the inside. All the things he’d ever envied in others were now suddenly within his grasp.

It was heady stuff.

Meng Yao was happy.

And then he went to his mother’s rooms after the first week to tell her of his adventures and saw her contemplating the crib in the side of the nursing room with a neutral expression that might as well be a frown.

He shivered a little and went to her side. “It won’t be necessary now, will it?” he asked hesitantly.

Meng Yao had never doubted his mother’s cunning before, but...well. It was only that Nie Mingjue was so looking forward to having a brother – Meng Yao was in some ways a brother, too, of course, or at least a shidi, but he was of an age that made him more of a friend so it apparently didn’t count – and had spoken so many times about the fun they’d have with a baby that they’d be able to teach everything they knew that Meng Yao had temporarily forgotten that the baby wasn’t going to get to live.

“I will decide what’s necessary,” she said, and that meant it probably was. Poor baby. “Your job right now is to get yourself a comfortable spot here that you can maintain even if I’m thrown out, you understand me? What you’re doing with Nie-gongzi is good. His father indulges him beyond reason; if you make him love you, he will fight for you to stay no matter what happens.”

Meng Yao secretly thought that, in all honesty, getting Nie Mingjue to love him seemed a bit too easy a job.

He’d already tried to play his mother’s tricks, to make himself seem nice and accommodating, the sort of brother any many would love, but Nie Mingjue had seen him at his most bossy and capricious when he hadn’t known that it would made, and it was a bit late to recover the original impression now. And yet to his surprise it didn’t seem to matter, when Nie Mingjue was puzzled and even concerned by Meng Yao’s gentle and submissive behavior rather than enchanted by it, and when he eventually reverted back to something more natural just to make him stop prying. 

No, it didn’t seem to matter at all. Meng Yao was pretty sure that Nie Mingjue was already ready to die for him if need be.

Maybe not die. He shouldn’t think such things, especially not around his mother – especially not with Madame Nie gone, with Lao Nie’s next heir in Meng Shi’s belly and her eyes speculatively set on his bed.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Meng Yao promised, thinking that his mother’s fear of the abandonment of men was for once a good thing if it meant she hadn’t yet started thinking of how only a single child’s life stood between her sons – including her new son – and all the power and riches of the Nie sect.

He’d never thought to scheme against his mother before.

He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to do it now, but…that poor baby.

Poor Nie Mingjue, too.

So Meng Yao went back to Nie Mingjue, but instead of doing what his mother wanted and earning his love – he had Nie Mingjue’s trust, and that was all he needed – he instead whispered in his ear about how happy old Lao Nie seemed to be with a woman by his side, pointed out his smiles when Meng Shi served him at dinner or asked to rearrange a room with some new decorations she’d found in the market.

“I mean, it makes sense,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice a little doubtful but not too much. “Even if she wasn’t his choice, she’s his responsibility, especially now, and it’s better if they like each other. What’s your point?”

“I’m just saying –”

“Oh, come off it, you never just say anything. You’re my brother! If you’ve got some thoughts, just tell me, and we’ll work on them together.” He laughed at Meng Yao’s shocked expression. “I’m not much of a scholar, but even I know that brothers are better off when they scheme together, rather than in parallel or against each other. What is it you want to do?”

Meng Yao weighed his options and spoke: “After the baby’s born, you and I should take care of it so that my mother and your father can spend more time together.”

“Is it that you’re worried about being cast out if they don’t get along? It won’t happen –”

“No, no,” Meng Yao said quickly, though he was, a little, and anyway it certainly was a good excuse to use. “But wouldn’t it be nice to have more brothers?”

Nie Mingjue was easily convinced, as always. “Maybe even a little sister!”

“But you can’t have new babies if you’re taking care of the old one,” Meng Yao continued, twisting truth a little and counting on the fact that Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to know too much about children or child-bearing. “That’s why we should take care of the baby ourselves.”

“Won’t we be too busy?” Nie Mingjue asked. “We’ll have lessons and classes and training –”

There was, Meng Yao conceded, an awful lot of training to do at the Nie sect.

“– while your mother will be resting and able to spend more time with the baby. And feed it, too, though maybe we should talk to someone about getting a wet-nurse to help her out…maybe a nanny goat as well…”

“A wet-nurse is a great idea,” Meng Yao said encouragingly. The less dependency they had on his mother for things for the baby, the better, and most especially when it came to the baby having enough to eat. One of the other women at the brothel had had a baby die from hunger once, when she stopped producing milk but lacked the money to buy a replacement. “But really, think about it – you said yourself that it’d be nice if we could teach the baby things.”

He pushed it as far as he could, and the heavens obligingly did the rest by giving his mother a difficult last few months – not so difficult that he felt afraid that he’d lose her to the birth, not with all the Nie sect’s expensive doctors fluttering around, but enough to exhaust her, and Nie Mingjue was convinced by the need to lift her burdens where he hadn’t been by more practical arguments.

And so little Nie Huaisang, when he was born, spent his first month of seclusion carefully guarded by his attentive brothers, and was then spirited away to their rooms the second they were able – it wouldn’t save him from the winter, Meng Yao thought with satisfaction, but it might save him from his mother.

His mother – their mother, now, but really still his mother – knew what he was doing and allowed it with an indulgent look, which he’d expected; after all he was her precious A-Yao, child of her youth and dreams, and as long as the mistake wasn’t fatal he was allowed to make one here and there.

And Nie Huaisang was a mistake worth making.

Meng Yao had taken a while to think so – he’d started out less than impressed with the baby, which was little more than a fleshy blob, capable of nothing but crying and emitting noxious bodily fluids, but Nie Mingjue had loved Nie Huaisang on sight, treating caring for him as a different type of training, and he’d been so enthusiastic that Meng Yao had gotten a little carried away by it. And after a while he discovered that Nie Huaisang would only settle down if he was there, if he helped, and that went to his head, leading him to preen like a peacock with pride (though it was good that Nie Huaisang eventually calmed enough to permit Nie Mingjue to assist before Meng Yao collapsed of exhaustion)…

All of a sudden it was real.

Nie Huaisang was his brother.

His real brother, a brother by blood – another child of their mother, small and clever and cunning like him, another who would stand by his side and make her proud, to show the world that they were more than just what she had been.

(He’d say that Nie Huaisang could help him beat anyone who said a bad word about her, but Nie Mingjue was doing a good job of that on his own, pretending all the while that he wasn’t doing it at all. As if he could keep a secret.)

Meng Yao was happy.

But then - 

Then it was winter.

The first little cough came during one of the classes on politics Meng Yao shared with Nie Mingjue, both of them writing their answers with delicate calligraphy – well, delicate and refined for Meng Yao, while Nie Mingjue’s brushstrokes were forceful yet elegant. Nie Mingjue didn’t notice the cough, absently hoisting Nie Huaisang a little higher in his non-writing arm, but Meng Yao was immediately frozen, thinking of what his mother had said.

He probably won’t survive his first winter.

Nie Huaisang was born in the late spring, which meant he was only half a year old when the winter came – some protection, but not much, and he was as weak as Meng Shi had predicted. The Nie sect had doctors aplenty, and Lao Nie spared no expense in getting medicine for his second son, but Meng Yao constantly worried that it wouldn’t be enough.

When Nie Huaisang continued to sicken, those soft little rasping breaths ringing in Meng Yao’s ear, he even started to wonder whether his mother really had done something after all, even though she knew he wanted Nie Huaisang to live, and he hated that he even thought it. And yet, he wondered...

His mother visited her sick son a few times, fewer than Nie Mingjue would like and more than Meng Yao wanted, and she had a good face for concern, full of gentle worry, good enough to fool anyone but her firstborn. Meng Yao overheard her crying once and was puzzled, only to understand when he heard Lao Nie comfort her that she wasn’t to blame, and that she wouldn’t be thrown out even if the child did die.

There were fewer visits after that, the purpose achieved.

(Meng Yao loved his mother, and knew she loved him – child of her heart that he was – but sometimes he thought he could almost hate her, too. It was a thought he’d had before, hidden deep in his heart, but only now that he knew there was more to life than her did he actually allow himself to think it.)

Nie Mingjue didn’t quite understand why she was acting the way she was, and Meng Yao determined in his heart that he never would. He might be younger in years than the boy he’d started (after a great deal of pressure and sad eyes like a lost puppy) to call his da-ge, but he was older in spirit. Perhaps if he were older, if he’d suffered more, he would resent Nie Mingjue’s carefree nature and the heart he wore on his sleeve, so easy to hurt and speaking of a lifetime of having not been hurt, but he was still young and all his dreams had come true – it was easy enough to shrug off the innocence and earnestness that, if he’d ever had it, he had lost it long ago.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the sleepless nights Nie Mingjue spent tending to Nie Huaisang, shoulder-to-shoulder with Meng Yao, persisting even when Meng Yao fell asleep; the way Meng Yao would always find a blanket covering him if he had, the way Nie Mingjue scolded him to eat while forgetting his own meals, the way he hide his tears for the times he thought Meng Yao couldn’t see or hear because he didn’t want to burden him –

“He’ll always be weak,” the doctors said, examining Nie Huaisang’s too-thin too-small frame, shuddering with coughs. “His muscle tone is low, his cultivation base unsteady…”

You might as well give up and try for another, they meant, and Nie Mingjue heard it as clearly as Meng Yao did.

And just as Meng Yao did, he refused to listen.

Where Meng Yao smiled at the doctors and thought of revenge, Nie Mingjue bristled and shouted, cursing them with as wide a vocabulary as he knew – wider, now that he had made Meng Yao’s acquaintance, than it had been before – and chased them away as frauds and liars.

And just as Meng Yao started to lose hope, Nie Huaisang turned a corner and got better.

“I don’t know if I can do that again,” Meng Yao said, staring with tears in his eyes at his little brother’s rising and falling chest, unhindered by any obstruction. “Next winter…”

“Next winter he’ll be older,” Nie Mingjue said, and wrapped an arm around him. “And so will we.”

Perhaps it was that that drove Nie Mingjue to pick up his saber a full two years before he rightfully should have received it, claiming a truly fearsome blade as his own if only he could master her, and after nearly a year of hard work he did. He named her Baxia, and Meng Yao thought of a creature strong enough to carry a mountain on its back – but it was of Nie Mingjue he thought.

(His own saber, he decided, would be named Chiwen, and like him it would draw evil away from others, taking it all on himself and swallowing it into his belly where it could rot him through and through if it meant that those he loved most would remain untainted by it.)

[just-random-obsessions]

Funny Moments In Thor The Dark World

Find Thor 1 here

Find Avengers 1 here

This is the second part of me watching all three thor movies and the avengers movie and comparing the humor pre-ragnarok to the humor in the 3rd Thor movie. And, as before, I’m writing this on my computer where the I and U keys don’t work so sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Tag List: @nikkoliferous @fyrecrafted @lokijiro @miskiett @darthxerik @icyxmischief @iamanartichoke @juliabohemian @official-and-unstable-satan @melodylnoelle @just-another-human-2019 @fandomsfanfiction @mentallydatingahotcelebrity @cateyes315 @burningarbiterheart @imnotacreepijustlikeyou @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alexakeyloveloki

Official-and-unstable-satan and fandomsfanfiction weren’t tagged sry

Anyone who wants to be added/removed to the tag list please let me know! and if I missed someone please also let me know. Sorry this post is so long

~ “Hello Mother. Have I made you proud?”

~ “Please don’t make things worse” “Define worse”

~ “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about”

~ “Just like you”

~ *That smile!!!!*

~ “I’ve got this completely under control!” “Is that why everything’s on fire?”

~ *About the Scary MonsterTM: “All yours”

~ *Thor says hi to the Big Scary MonsterTM*

~ “I accept your surrender”

~ “Anyone else?” *All the people simultaneously: NOPE*

~ “Perhaps next time we should START with the big one”

~ *Odin obviously shipping Thor and Jane* (idk I got a kick out of this)

~ *Jane awkwardly avoiding her date*

~ *Date: hi*

~ *Him awkwardly talking about his ex*

~ “And the fact that she kept sleeping with other men” “NO!”

~ *Darcy being mistaken for a waitress*

~ *Darcy mouthing “Cute” to Jane about Richard*

~ *Darcy embarrassing Jane by talking about Thor*

~ “Is there a point to all of this cause there REALLY needs to be a point to all of this”

~ “That’s what I said!”

~ “That’s what I did!”

~ “He’s not interested” “I’m interested” (Am I the only one who feels like his awkwardness was actually kinda cute?)

~ “He’s my intern.” “You have an intern?”

~ *Intern is fucking adorable like Richard*

~ “I have totally mastered driving in London!” *Has not mastered it at all*

~ *Selvig running around Stonehenge naked*

~ *Darcy keeps calling Ian ‘Intern’*

~ *Darcy calls Jane cause she didn’t wanna shout*

~ God I fucking love Darcy she’s so criminally underrated

~ “I am not getting stabbed in the name of science”

~ “It’s okay, we’re Americans!” “Is that supposed to make them like us?”

~ “We’re scientists-well I am” “Thanks”

~ “That doesn’t seem right”

~ “I wanna throw something! Jane give me your shoe!”

~ *Jane ignores Darcy*

~ “Give me your shoe”

~ “Were those the car keys?”

~ *Ian’s face when he realizes he threw the car keys to another planet*

~ *If you have to bury so many people then you’re doing something wrong you hot dumb fuck* (I mean that’s basically what Heimdall said right?)

~ “Typical” *after being left behind while Jane goes to talk to her boyfriend*

~ *Jane! Love of my life and most talented and beautiful person in the world oh how I love yo-SLAP*

~ “As excuses go, its not terrible”

~ “I know” “You do?” “Do what?”

~ *Darcy interrupts the KissTM*

~ “Um I’m pretty sure we are getting arrested”

~ “How’s space?” “Space is fine”

~ “He’s my intern… My intern’s intern”

~ “Holy shit!” (after Jane went up in the Bifrost)

~ *Heimdall calmly dodges the car*

~ “We have to do that again”

~ “Hello”

~ “What’s that?”

~ “It’s a soul forge” *No I’m pretty sure that’s a quantum field generator*

~ *Jane being ready to fight Odin for comparing her to a goat*

~ “You told your dad about me?”

~ “It must be so inconvenient, them asking about me day and night”

~ “Please meet my mother” *Jane shies away from Thor*

~ Loki casually tossing the thingamajig in the air like the cute little shit he is

~ Lord, he’s so damn pretty

~ *Kurse being like: Lol I ain’t touchin’ that boy with a ten foot pole*

~ “It’s as if they resent being in prison”

~ “There’s no pleasing some creatures”

~ *Loki calmly reading a book while all Hel breaks loose*

~ “You have my word that no harm will come to yo-” nvm bitch die

~ *THAT look between Sif and Jane*

~ *Frigga immediately seeing through Odin’s bs lies*

~ *Heimdall: I have defeated the big space ship!! The bigger one behind him: Bitch you thought*

~ “WITCH!!!!” *Now I know who Loki gets his amazing aforementioned smile from*

~ *Selvig using shoes to explain complicated science*

~ *Selvig then using pencils*

~ “Any questions?” “Yeah, can I have my shoe back?”

~ “What’s SHIELD?” “It’s a secret”

~ *Darcy’s cute af face when she sees that Selvig is in the mental hospital*

~ “Are you sure you wouldn’t just rather punch your way out?”

~ *Loki shapeshifting into the guard*

~ “Mmm Brother, you look ravishing”

~ “Costumes a bit much”

~ “So tight!”

~ “I can FEEL the righteousness surging!!”

~ “HEY wanna have a rousing discussion about truth?”

~ “Honor?”

~ “Patriotism?”

~ “GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

~ “At last. A little common sens-”Bitch are you really fucking kidding me? (What do you mean that’s not what he said?)

~ “I thought you liked tricks”

~ “I’m Loki, you may have heard of-” SLAP

~ “That was for New York”

~ “I like her”

~ *Loki gazing lovingly at Jane in the background*

~ “Betray him, and I’ll kill you.” “It’s good to see you too Sif”

~ “If you even think about betraying him-” “You’ll kill me? Evidently there will be a line”

~ “I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing.” “I said how hard can it be?”

~ “Whatever your doing brother I suggest you do it faster.” “Shut up Loki

~ “You must’ve missed something.” “I didn’t, I’m pressing every button on this thing”

~ “Well don’t hit it. Just press it, gently.” “I aM pReSsInG iT gEnTlY AND ITS NOT WORKING!!!”

~ *Thor starts slamming buttons and it starts working*

~ *Volstagg: Oh fighting is much fun- OH SHIT IM FALLING!! HELP!!!*

~ “I think you missed a column.” “Shut up”

~ “Why don’t you let me take over? I’m clearly the best pilot”

~ *Bitch I’m the one who can actually fly*

~ “Oh dear. Is she dead?”

~ *Thor knocks over a column* “Not a word”

~ “Now they’re following us”

~ “Now they’re firing at us”

~ “Yes thank you for the commentary Loki, it’s not at all distracting”

~ “Well done, you just decapitated your grandfather”

~ *Seriously, whoever wrote the escape scene is a genius!!!*

~ *Loki yelling at Thor about how thIs was a bad idea you dumb fuck- wait wtf are you doing AAAAHHHHH!!!!1*

~ “You lied to me. I’m impressed”

~ *That smile again snfnejaihfeqrqrsbdsalxdjewonjfeq*

~ “For Asgard!” YEET

~ “Nothing personal boys!”

~ “If it were easy, everyone would do it”

~ “Are you mad?” “Possibly”

~ “TADAAA”

~ “Oh yeah, my father. Eric Selvig”

~ “And these” “yeah… those”

~ “How did you find me?” “You were naked on television”

~ “I don’t get paid enough. I don’t get paid at all”

~ “What’s happening? Birds? Birds are happening?”

~ “All right are you ready?” “I am”

~ *phone rings* “It’s not me”

~ “Why are there so many shoes in here?”

~ “I’ll just text her”

~ “So who’s Richard?”

~ *Thor hanging his hammer on a coat hanger*

~ “Where are your pants?” “Oh he says it helps him think”

~ “Loki is dead” “Oh thank God!”

~ “Better get my pants”

~ “Do you even know what these things do?” “No” “…Neither do I”

~ “Ooh get the guy with the sword!”

~ “Oops”

~ *Ian’s high-pitched scream*

~ *Does car insurance cover My Car Was Sucked Into Another Planet Due To A Cosmic Event That Only Occurs Once Every 5000 Years or no?*

~ *Thor and Malekith fighting between worlds and poor little Mjolnir trying to keep up*

~ *The two of them against windows*

~ *AAAHHH*

~ *Awww! Look at the cute little Jotunheim monster! He’s so adorable I wanna pet him so much!’

~ *Darcy and Ian kissing after he saved her life*

~ “Darcy?” “Jane!” “Ian?” “Selvig.”

~ “Myuh Myuh!!”

~ *Thor ends up on the subway*

~ *The girl taking 50 photos*

~ *Thor and the woman colliding into eachother*

~ “I’ve come to accept your surrender”

~ *Malekith gets crushed by his own ship. Now that’s some lovely karma right there*

~ *Darcy and Ian go back to kissing*

~ “He kinda committed treason on our way out” oops

~ Jotunheim Puppy chasing birds

Wow I’m so sorry this was so long. But guess what? It’s gonna get even longer. Sorry, again.

So one of the differences between the first and second Thor movies is that Thor 2 has humor in the climax whereas Thor 1 doesn’t. This is because of the differences with who is the villain. In Thor 1, Thor is having to fight his brother. To quote Avengers, they “played together and fought together” for several millennia. Of course there’s not going to be any humor in it cause there shouldn’t be. The climax at the end of the movie isn’t supposed to be some epic battle between the forces of Good TM and Bad TM. It’s supposed to be tragic that he’s having to fight his own brother because Loki lost his mind due to so many factors. The last joke in the film is “You’re an amazon liar brother, always have been” “It’s good to have you back”. There’s nothing else till the end credit scene. That’s because Kenneth Branagh knew that this was supposed to be viewed at as being sad a hopeless, not some awesome upbeat battle.

Thor 2 on the other hand, is exactly that. Thor has known Malekith for.. what? 2 days? Maybe 3? His relationship and dynamic with Malekith is different than with his brother. To Thor, this is just another enemy attacking Asgard. And I’m not sure whether this was intentional or not (because I remember reading somewhere how Allen Taylor had a bitch of a time in the editing process so I think the movie came out different than he intended) but the lack of any personal relationship will Malekith means the film can make really funny jokes and still have it fit with the film. If anything, I might even argue that the humor helped the film to maintain a very nice positive vibe. Idk I can’t think of the right words to explain it but the jokes actually fit the film very well.

However, then we move on to Ragnarok. With Ragnarok, Thor is fighting his sister. While (just like Malekith) he has only known her for two days, that still doesn’t take away the fact that he is having to fight his sibling. And I’m not a film director but if I had the option of approaching this situation and taking it the Thor 1 route or the the Thor 2 route, I’d go with Thor 1. Because it’s actually incredibly tragic that Hela has been driven to insanity like Loki (though ok a different level) due to Odin’s shitty parenting. She is the horrible way she is because Odin made her that way. And that could’ve been an AMAZINGLY complex story with the audience feeling so much sympathy for Hela like we did with Loki in Thor 1, but the narrative just falls flat for two reasons. 1) Taika admitted he didn’t want the film to be emotionally complex so 2) The humor in the climax completely detracts from the seriousness of the situation.

Also, some side notes: Yes, this is edited from the original. I accidentally deleted everything and then had to go back and add everything back in. So I also had to re-tag people too. And I also added a bit more explanation at the end. I meant to do so when I originally posted but it never got done till now. Sry. Also sry that it’s so long

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Protect My Heart: Part 10

Fandom: Marvel (Bodyguard AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re an actress and after an assassination attempt on your life, your manager hires a bodyguard that will be with you 24/7.

A/N: For @buckthegrump ‘s writing challenge.

“Our next guess has become quite the talk ever since she starred in her movie “Damaged”. This is her first time here so she might be a bit nervous, but ladies and gentlemen, let’s all give a big warm welcome to Y/N L/N!!” James Corden announced and you waltzed onstage waving at the audience as you approached James. You quickly scanned the production crew and saw Bucky standing next to one of the producers. He was looking your way and giving you a thumbs up.

You gave him a quick nod and then smiled at James, “Hi!” you said excitedly as you hugged him, then proceeded to sit down.

“Hello! Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you!” 

“Thank you! It’s so nice to meet you too!”

“How’re you feeling?”

You scrunched up your face in hesitation, a face that amused the audience and made them laugh, “Nervous. This is my first time being on a late night television show! And I love your show, don’t get me wrong, Fallon, Kimmel, and all of those guys are great, but, I love the games and segments you do on this show.” you smiled wide.

James held his hand to his chest, “Thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. So, let’s get down to business, you are starring in this movie called Damaged,” he pulls out a small poster of the movie, your face on it.

You nodded, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Tell us about it.”

You gave a deep breath and glanced Bucky’s way. He gave you a wink and mouthed, “You’re doing great.”

You bit your lip and then proceeded to explain the movie, “Well, It’s a romantic comedy of sorts. My character, Eva, thinks she’ll never find love despite there being many opportunities in front of her. And then she meets this guy named Bucky, I mean, Beckham, and he challenges her. She’s got her own issues and he does too and they’re constantly butting heads, but the whole point of the movie is that despite your faults and your insecurities, despite being, ya know, damaged,” you used air quotes for the word, “someone can and will love you.”

“Wow. That sounds amazing! And when does this movie officially come out?”

“It comes out July sixth! “

“Well, I can’t wait to see it. Here’s a sneak peek at Y/N’s movie Damaged!” 

_________________________________

After the interview portion was over, there was a commercial break. You and James moved over to the Spill Your Guts and Fill Your Guts table, Bucky walking over to you with a smirk on his face.

“Well, all this looks delicious!” he said excitedly with a sarcastic tone.

You groaned and leaned your head into his chest, “Just looking at this stuff makes me wanna vomit!”

“Can’t wait to see that. By the way, don’t act like I didn’t catch your slip up.”

You scoffed, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, Barnes. I just saw you and your name came into mine instead of the character!”

He smirked at you, “Sure, sweetheart, sure.” 

“Alright. We’ll be starting soon, Y/N.” James said excitedly, “This is gonna be fun. I promise.”

You sat down in the chair across from him, “We’ll see, James, we’ll see.”

One of the producers counted down from five and then gave James a thumbs up, to which he then spoke up, “Welcome back everyone! I am joined with the lovely Y/N and we are going to play a rousing game of Spill Your Guts and Fill Your Guts!” the audience cheers and claps. When they fade, James proceeds to explain the game, “So, for those of you who don’t know how the game works, Y/N and I each have a set of cards that contain questions that we’ll ask each other. If the person can’t answer the question, they have to eat one of the gross selections the person picks for them. If they can answer it, then their stomachs will be very grateful for that!” you as well as the audience chuckles.

James looks up at you, “So, Y/N, how do you feel about this?”

“Ooohhh I’m not liking this already just by looking at these selections.”

“Well why don’t we get a look at them. Alright. So we have a cow blood cocktail, beetle nachos, thousand year old egg, bird saliva, goat testicles, fish smoothie, and ants on a log with actual ants on them.”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

James let out a sinister laugh, “You’ll enjoy this, Y/N, I promise. And hey, since you’re my guest, you can go first.”

You nod your head, “Alright. Since I saw your face with the cow blood cocktail, we’ll go with that first!” you spin the lazy susan his way so that the cow’s blood cocktail is right in front of him. You could see him shaking his head and you giggle to yourself as you pick up the first card, silently reading this to yourself then laughed, “Oh wow! Okay, James, out of all the guests you’ve had for Carpool Karaoke, who was your least favorite?”

“Oooouuuuu!” the crowd is filled with murmurs. 

“Oh come on!” James yells. 

He takes a deep breath and grabs the glass. Some of the audience and you are screaming, “No! James, don’t! Just answer-AAAHH!!” you scream as he takes a sip from the cup and immediately spits it out into the bucket beside him. Grabbing a glass of water and swishing the water in his mouth and spitting it out.

“That was horrid! Ugh!” he then looks at the layout and spins it so that the ants on a log are facing you, “Just for that, you get this these ants!” he smirks and grabs his question card, “Oh man. This...This is juicy.”

“Just say it, James!” you cry out.

“Y/N, did you really cheat on Brock Rumlow with your current bodyguard or is it all a publicity stunt?”

Your eyes go wide and you immediately look at Bucky whose pointing your way mouthing out, “Eat it!”

You groan as you grab a piece of celery with peanut butter and ants on top. You pout as you bite into it, quickly chewing through it and swallowing it. You throw your hands in the air victoriously, “I did it! Also, you can’t even taste the ants since the peanut butter is so thick.”

_____________________________

After the game was over, the show was pretty much over. You thanked James and his crew for allowing you on the show. You took some pictures with him and then you and Bucky were on your way back to the airport to go home. 

Bucky’s arm was around you as you two walked out of the building paparazzi yelling at you two and taking pictures. Bucky guided you into the car and slammed the door behind him.

“You did great, Y/N. Other than your little slip up, I think they loved you.”

You shied away at Bucky’s compliment, “Thanks, Buck. It really did help knowing you were there. You made me feel a lot better.”

You looked at him, your eyes staring into his. They darted to his lips and back to his eyes. You felt yourself leaning closer to him and him leaning towards you. Your lips were just about to touch when you fell forward from a car hitting yours from behind. Why didn’t you put on your seatbelt?

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked concerningly.

You nodded, “Yeah. How ‘bout-” yours and Bucky’s door swung open and a pair of arms grabbed you, dragging you out of your car, “HEY! LET ME GO!”

“Y/N!” Bucky cried out and tried to grab for you, but someone else had grabbed him from behind and dragged him out of the car. 

“BUCKY!” you yelled out, your voice filled with so much fear. 

Bucky threw his head back into whoever was holding them, making that person stumble back. Bucky kicked and punched as many people who came his way, trying to get to you as the person holding you threw you into a black van. 

He twisted some guy’s arm, making him drop his gun. When Bucky went to grab it, someone hit the back of his head knocking him out. The last thing he heard was your scream and someone saying “We’re bringing him with us.”

Protect My Heart Taglist (CLOSED): @badassbaker @mrsdaamneron @avengersbabe13@hiddles-rose @denimandcabernet @courtmr @bitchwhytho@thebookwormslytherin @emilysallysmith @partiallyinthecloset@randomfandompenguin @thefridgeismybestie @wellfucksorrymum@moonlightbae14 @feelmyroarrrr @chewymoustachio @doctoranon@winchesterandpie @myawkwardnessisshowing @aletheladyinred @lilbit-ofsunlight @hennessy0274-blog @farfromjustordinary @msanimeotaku181 @evilzinblr @desibarnes @usernamemingmei @ravenshadowsoldier@viarogers @ediblemurderer @mavelfanatic @justrepostandlove

[emospritelet]

Key to the Cell - chapter 5

[1] [2] [3] [4] [AO3 link]

Once breakfast was over, and the men had ridden out for the hunt with a cacophony of shouts and baying hounds, Belle retreated to the library to read the remaining chapters of the book. It told her nothing she didn’t already know, and squinting at the drawing of the ornamental dagger in the light of day still didn’t reveal what was written on it. She noticed that the drops of her blood had disappeared, though, sucked into the paper by the book’s own magic, no doubt. It was tempting to try the spell again, but she had nothing more to bargain with, and no desire to make any more demands on the Dark One’s time than she had already dealt for.

She put the book back on its shelf and sat back in her chair, thinking. It wasn’t the only book on the Dark One that existed, to be sure, but a search of the shelves before she sat down had yielded nothing further on the subject. Belle smiled to herself as she reached a decision. In the months that she and her father had been coming to Sir Gaston’s lands, she had made a friend of sorts. A purveyor of hard to find objects, he called himself, but he specialised in old books. If anyone would know where she could find out about the Dark One, it would be Jefferson.

x

Half an hour later she was taking the carriage into town, a tall, silent footman named Marcel and one of the maids, Celine, accompanying her. She knew it was for reasons of safety and propriety, but she missed the freedom of being in her own lands, with her own people. Here she was followed wherever she went, which was why she had begun sneaking down to the library at night for a brief taste of freedom. It felt as though Gaston’s servants were spying on her. As though she were a beautiful bird in a gilded cage, too valuable to be allowed to fly free, however briefly.

On this occasion, however, Marcel seemed more interested in the pretty maid than in her, the two of them sneaking glances at each other as the carriage rolled along, and a plan began to form in Belle’s mind. She kept a sharp eye out as they reached the market place, and once she spotted the shop she sought, she tapped on the roof of the carriage to stop and rummaged in her purse for some coins.

“Here,” she said, handing them to Marcel. “It’s a warm day and the road was dusty. Why don’t you both go to the tavern and have a cup of something while I visit the bookshop? It’s right across the street, you’ll be able to keep an eye on me.”

“We’re supposed to stay with you, milady,” said Celine automatically, but her eyes flicked to the footman again.

“I’ll only be ten minutes,” Belle assured her. “I want to enquire after some books I ordered. Once that’s done we’ll go to the haberdasher’s and the apothecary. You may both accompany me once you’ve quenched your thirst.”

Marcel and Celine shared a smile.

“Thank you, milady,” they said as one, and Marcel got out to hand Belle down.

She shook out her skirts, eyeing the shop she sought. The door was closed, but a bell above tinkled merrily when she pushed it open. The shelves inside lined every wall, and were filled with books, with cabinets holding ornaments and nautical navigation aids. There was a pleasing, familiar scent of parchment and leather and old paper, and Belle smiled as she glanced around, a sense of peace flowing over her.

She started as the proprietor bounced up from behind the counter, dressed in a russet-coloured coat over leather breeches and knee boots, a patterned cravat at his throat and a somewhat battered top hat on his head. Jefferson was a handsome man, with a ready grin and a glint in his eye, and from what she could tell, had a good heart and a keen sense of fun. He also had a young daughter named Grace, who liked to read as much as Belle had at her age, and Belle had given her some of her old books to borrow, much to Grace’s delight. Jefferson beamed at the sight of her.

“My Lady Belle!” he declared, sweeping a dramatic bow that was somewhat curtailed by the shop counter. “I’m delighted to see you! It’s been too long.”

“An entire week, at least,” she said, amused.

“Yes indeed.” He clasped his hands behind his back, bouncing on his toes. “Your frequent visits to my humble shop have not gone unnoticed. Why, only two days ago I had Sir Gaston’s steward come to visit me to enquire about them. Imagine my delight at such esteemed patronage.”

Belle’s blood ran cold.

“He was asking about me?” she said. “Why?”

“Oh, I’m sure your noble intended only wishes to ensure your safety,” said Jefferson cheerfully. “I’m to report back to him what you purchase from me. Romantic, no?”

Anger flared in her, and she felt her jaw protrude, as though straining against an invisible leash. She tried to relax, and smiled at Jefferson.

“It’s a good thing I seek only appropriate reading material for an innocent and fairly stupid woman, then,” she said dryly.

“It’s not as though I would sell you anything else,” he said, pressing a hand to his heart in mock horror. “This is a respectable bookshop.”

“Good,” said Belle seriously. “In that case I want to ask about the books you most definitely are not holding in this shop. In order to ensure - public decency.”

“Public decency has always been a passion of mine, my Lady,” he said gravely. “Tell me of these terrible tomes.”

She felt her lips twitch, but tried to maintain her concerned expression.

“I have heard tales of a sorcerer known as the Dark One,” she said. “No doubt there are books that cover his history, his origins. It would be dreadful if they were to fall into the wrong hands.”

“You won’t find such distasteful books on any of the shelves in this shop,” he said promptly, pointing under the desk and winking at her.

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

“Anything else?”

“I’ve also heard that there are books on magical prisons, and the breaking of curses.”

“A terrible rumour, if true,” he said. “I have no such books for sale.”

He mouthed you can borrow them behind his hand, and she wanted to giggle.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “You’ve put my mind at rest.”

“I should probably check, though,” he added. “Just to make sure. If you return in half an hour, I’ll be able to confirm it.”

“Good.” She hesitated. “While I’m at it, there may be something you could sell to me.  Do you have anything on the Blue Fairy? Or on light magic in general? I’m sure there could be no objections to me reading something like that.”

“Let me see what I can dig out,” he said, tipping his hat to her.

“And I suppose I’d better add in something about proper wifely duties, as well,” she said. “That should put Sir Gaston’s mind at ease.”

Jefferson grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“For managing a new estate or for managing a new husband?” he asked, and she sent him a dry look.

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

His grin widened, and he lifted a finger.

“I have just the thing.”

x

When Belle left the shop, she took a moment to straighten her gloves, irritation with Gaston warring with satisfaction at having obtained more information on the Dark One. So. She was being spied on. No doubt to ensure she was suitable, the picture of a subservient, dutiful wife. The nerve of the man!

“Milady?”

Marcel and Celine had hurried over to her, and Belle nodded curtly, smoothing her features.

“I’ll call back for my books in half an hour, once they have been wrapped,” she said. “The apothecary next, I think.”

She walked swiftly enough that Celine had to trot to keep up, and made the rounds of the shops in less time than she had anticipated, but the exercise helped to ease her anger, and by the time they had left the haberdashery, she was calm again. She slowed the pace as they turned into the street leading back to the bookshop, and Celine sighed in relief, hefting the basket of her purchases.

“Alms for the poor, milady?”

A woman reached out to her with a pleading tone, blonde hair tied back from a face reddened by the sun, and Belle drew to a halt, biting her lip in distress. She imagined the woman had once been plump and pretty, but now looked gaunt and exhausted, her faded dress hanging from her, her hand a claw extended on a thin wrist. Two skinny, big-eyed children watched from the shadows, brother and sister, clutching at one another. The girl had a bracelet on her thin wrist, woven from brightly coloured woollen threads, no doubt scavenged from weavers' scraps. It made a strange contrast to her dirty smock and tangled hair.

“Get out of here, go on!” said Marcel roughly, aiming a kick at the woman, and she shied away. Belle rounded on him.

“Do that again and there will be consequences!” she snapped.

“I’m charged with protecting you, milady,” he said. “You don’t have to deal with these vermin.”

“When I marry your lord, these will be my people!” said Belle, frowning. She turned back to the woman. "What's your name?"

"Gerta, milady."

“And what has brought you to this sad state? Have you no work?”

“Not since the clearances, milady,” she said, eyeing Marcel warily.

“Clearances?”

“We had a strip of land down by the river," said Gerta. "A herd of goats and some vegetable plots. The Lord’s men drove us off two winters gone. Us and all the other smallholders. Beat our men when they protested, killed some. Killed my husband. The fields have gone to barley for the brewers, the goats slaughtered.”

Belle shook her head, and reached into her purse for some money.

“Milady, you shouldn’t—” began Marcel.

“I’ll do as I please with my own coin!” snapped Belle. She pressed some silver into Gerta’s hand, followed by a gold piece. “Here. That should feed and clothe you all for a little while, at least. Once you feel able, come to the castle and ask for me: I'll speak to the steward about finding some work for you."

"Oh thank you, thank you!" Tears pricked the woman's eyes.

"No need to thank me," said Belle.  "You shouldn't be in this situation. I shall speak to Sir Gaston about what has happened to you.”

“It won’t do any good,” said Gerta wearily. “But bless your kind heart, milady.”

She clasped Belle’s hand between her own, smiling a little, and slunk away, the children following. Belle noticed that the boy was limping badly, his lower leg twisted and useless as he shuffled along, supported by his sister.

“They’ll probably just spend it on ale, milady,” said Celine.

“They look too hungry to want to bother with the tavern,” said Belle shortly. “Have many families been driven off their lands?”

The servants shrugged, and she clicked her tongue in irritation.

“What provision has been made for their welfare?” she asked. “Are there soup kitchens? Anything?”

“The brewers set up a soup kitchen,” said Celine. “They were told to take it down, because it just encouraged the beggars.”

“Well of course it encouraged them, how would they eat otherwise?” snapped Belle, and shook her head with a sigh. “Still, this is a matter for Sir Gaston, not you. I need to pick up my books, and then we’ll take the carriage home.”

She stomped off, seething with anger. What sort of lord would let his people starve?

Jefferson seemed to catch her mood when she returned, and made no quips as he handed Marcel a pile of books wrapped in paper and tied with string. Belle paid him, smiling slightly to show that her bad mood had not been caused by him. He was far more reserved in front of the servants, and she imagined it was just as well. No doubt an account of their day in town would reach Gaston before long, and she didn’t want Jefferson singled out for any special attention from the steward.

The ride home was subdued, and once the servants had carried the books and other purchases up to Belle’s room, she announced that she had a headache, and would be lying down until it passed. Celine drew the curtains and helped her off with her gown, and Belle lay down with a damp cloth over her eyes. The sound of the door closing softly made her sigh in relief, but she still waited a few minutes before tearing off the damp cloth and sitting up, reaching for the parcel of books. There had to be answers in there somewhere.

Jefferson had wrapped up five books in total, the top one being a very proper treatise on the management of estates from a noblewoman’s perspective. Belle tossed that aside with a curl of her lip, but after a moment, placed it on her nightstand. If Gaston wanted to hear about what she was reading, let him hear about that.

The second book was infamous, and made her blush fiercely and glance around before turning back to it. The Lady’s Boudoir by An Anonymous Gentlewoman of Note was rumoured to be the most complete compendium of detailed intimate relations between husband and wife. Along with illustrations. After suppressing a giggle at the look on Gaston’s face if he were to find such a book in her possession, Belle resolved to hide it somewhere safe until she could take it back to Jefferson. She had already read it, anyway.

The third book had an embossed illustration of a fairy on the cover, wand lifted high with a blue star at its tip. A Study of Fairies and Their Use of Light Magic, read the title page, and Belle pursed her lips thoughtfully and set the book aside on the nightstand before reaching for the next. It was a heavier volume, bound in battered blood-red leather with gilt letters on the spine: First Steps in Curse-Breaking.

She was almost trembling with excitement, eager to open up the book and pore over its contents, but the final book in the paper package had already drawn her eye.  It was the slimmest by far, perhaps two hundred pages if that, with a plain black leather binding. Opening it up, Belle ran her eyes over the title page: The Dark One: His Origins and Powers.

Belle clutched the book to her chest, heart thumping, and sent up a prayer to the gods that the information she sought would be contained within. Then she got back onto the bed, wriggling against the pillows to get comfortable, and began to read.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Season of the Witch AU

I just recently watched this movie, and today I started thinking that it could be some kind of fun au? 

Stiles would be the witch, obviously. 

Mitch is the criminal that gets freed on the condition that he acts as a guide. I think a thief and a mercenary. “I don’t believe in magic,” Mitch tells Stiles, when Stiles asks if Mitch is afraid of him. Of all of them, he’s the only one not afraid to get closest to Stiles’ cage. He’s just a weak child, what can he do? (A lot, he could kill them all if he wanted to. Lucky for them he doesn’t.) Stiles only smiles and asks, “Who is Katrina?” Mitch is perturbed, but chalks it up to Stiles overhearing him, or talking in his sleep. It’s not solid proof of magic. 

“Do you think they’ll give me a fair trial?” Stiles asks. Derek promised him one.  “Nothing about these people is fair,” Mitch responds. 

Derek and Peter are the ones sent to bring Stiles to justice. Former Templars who deserted when the gravity of what they were doing dawned on them. The best warriors in the army, no one dared try to stop them. Derek joined to repent for the loss of his family, which he blames himself for. Peter says he joined because the church promised to forgive all sins - and he has many - but really it was to make sure Derek didn’t foolishly get himself killed. He never cared for the religious side of things, but he does believe in magic. He’s seen things that can’t be explained. Stiles healed the phantom pain of his burns that have plagued him for ten years with only a touch. 

Scott is the well-meaning squire that follows after them, hoping to get knighted upon their return. He is a kind boy that is much too friendly towards Stiles. If he’s not careful, he’ll end up the witch’s next victim, Derek warns. Scott is kind and talkative and befriends Stiles-from a distance. Tells him things that no witch should ever be told, because it gives him too much power. 

As Mitch gets to know Stiles, he starts to second-guess sending him to his death. Because it doesn’t matter what Derek promised, Stiles will never see a fair trial for witchcraft. He will be hanged and drowned before this is over, or burned. (Even Peter flinches at that, it’s a fate he would wish on no one.) Guilt is not something Mitch has felt for a long time. It takes him a while to identify it now, Katrina would be disappointed him. 

One night Mitch decides to follow his instincts and free Stiles. It’s nothing to take the key off Peter, Mitch is a very good pickpocket. But rather than going with him, Stiles shouts for the others, says that Mitch tried to hurt him, that Mitch was going to kill him. And Mitch doesn’t know what Stiles is doing, he’s trying to save the fool! But Stiles doesn’t want to be saved. A fight ensues and everyone is yelling and it's chaos, and Mitch gets killed in the midst of it. The last thing he sees is Stiles smirking, hands wrapped around the bars of his prison and watching them all hungrily. It took barely any effort from him at all. 

They move on. It’s difficult without their guide, but they’ve made it through the worst of the journey. Everyone is tense, and not even Scott will talk to Stiles. He can still feel Mitch’s blood on his hands, was the one to kill him because he was afraid for Stiles. The first life he’s taken. 

“You saved me,” Stiles soothes, reaching out to him. Scott shies away.  “I don’t know what he would have done, but I could see the hate in his eyes. He blamed me for what happened to his lover. I didn’t even know her. There was no other way. You saved me, Scott.” Scott has to stop to be sick, rides ahead of the cart with Derek, leaving Peter to pull up the rear. 

Peter is not nearly as trusting as Scott, or as callous as Mitch. He is more cautious around Stiles, doesn’t know the full extent of his capabilities but knows he is more than he appears. Stiles only drops the act around him, because Peter never bought it for a second. 

“How did you get your burns?” Stiles asks. 

“You tell me, little witch.”

“I think it was something heroic. You tried to save someone, didn’t you?” Stiles presses up against the bars, his eyes searching. “Was it a witch? Your lover or your sister? Or was it your daughter?”

“It was my family. Someone tried to burn them all for being monsters.” 

Stiles tsks. “Poor Derek, he never did learn how to see past the mask to what’s hiding underneath. Not that you can blame him, a pretty face is enough o fool most men.” 

Peter, ever the schemer, knows how to recognize a plot. He knows that Stiles is up to something, is almost certain he was lying about what happened with Mitch. But there was too much going on, everything so unclear, to realize it at the time. Now he is suspicious, doesn’t want to continue on until he finds out what Stiles’ angle is. 

It’s nothing to begin Peter’s descent into madness. Ever since the fire he’s already been halfway there. All it takes is an illusion here and there to fully cement it. It’s delicious to watch Derek have to kill the last remaining member of his family. 

“It was mercy,” Stiles consoles after Derek buries his uncle’s body. “He was no longer the man you remembered. The real Peter wouldn’t have wanted to continue on like that.” 

“Shut up, witch, or I’ll kill you myself.” Stiles doesn’t believe the threat for a second. Derek is too noble, he wouldn’t kill a defenseless boy. Scott is afraid but unwilling to challenge either of them, still believes that Stiles can be saved. His soul, if not his body. It’s sickening how he believes that good will triumph over evil, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Just on this journey alone Stiles is leaving a trail of bodies. If the priests are to be believed, his death toll number in the hundreds of thousands, the source of the plague ravaging the country. If Derek won't kill him for all of them, he won’t kill Stiles for his uncle. 

They make it to the abby. All of the monks are dead, have been for weeks. It’s clear that something more is going on here. 

Scott and Derek find the book they came for, and attempt to perform the ritual that will end this curse, but it doesn’t work. It’s Scott who realizes that Stiles is no witch, he is something more. Something much worse. 

Derek fights the demon while Scott performs the exorcism to the best of his ability. Enraged at the audacity, tosses Derek aside like a ragdoll and goes for him. He doesn’t care about this humans, all he wants is that book. He has spent centuries destroying all copies of the one thing that can hurt him, and this is the last one. 

In the end, they scrape through by the skin of their teeth. The demonis exorcised and Stiles is left in it’s place, traumatized but alive. Derek and Scott are as well, barely. Stiles takes the book and they get far away from this place. Scott gives up any interest in knighthood, and Derek lays down his sword. Stiles just wants to find a home and peace, and that sounds like a great idea. They return the way they came, pay their respects to the dead. Guilt eats at Stiles, and there is nothing he can do to repent. 

Scott returns home to his mother to train instead as a physician, Derek and Stiles find a cottage in the countryside with a garden and some sheep and a few goats and chickens. Stiles dedicates his life to making as many copies of the holy text as he can so that if the demon ever comes back, it can be defeated again. Every major church in Europe is given one. 

[bonnissance]

pippa owns a small secluded cottage in the forest/countryside and invites hecate over for the weekend

so fun story, I sat down and wrote two whole other sections of this theme before I decided to focus on she/they high femme nonbinary Pippa Pentangle and their home away from the castle (which they’ve secretly always wanted Hecate to be a part of), and idk if the parts mesh together into one fic, so y’all get this one on it’s own for the moment

Pippa Pentangle(/Hecate Hardbroom), 1.5k+, teen. CW: references to nonbinary exclusion, few references to transphobic rhetoric (hmu if i’ve messed anything, this is an area of writing i’m unfamiliar w), gay pining (when isn’t it?)

Pippa has a cottage, a few hours away from Pentangle’s, more hours away from Cackle’s, the furtherest away from Hecate, in the middle of both then off to the side, on the farthest edge of Darkwood and a few miles more: a strange sort of diamond that spans across the coast to encompass the woodland of the country side.

It’s in the middle of clearing in the heart of the forest, hidden far away from prying eyes and further away from the responsibilities they spend their days fulfilling, upholding, taking up themselves to push herself and the students to become the best magic casters they can be.

Pippa loves Pentangle’s dearly, but sometimes they just need to get away.

And she’s had it for years, decades—a home to come back to, while they worked their way up and down the country moving from teaching position to different school, never quite finding her feet on solid ground in any of them.

It was hard, in the earlier years of their career: the more traditionalist academies hated Pippa’s disregard for rigidity and blind obedience towards authority, while the schools that claimed modernity, that Pippa had hoped were more their style, still clung to assumptions Pippa had long since realised simply weren’t necessary.

Like keeping witches and wizards segregated to limit the possibilities of what magical children could grow up to be.

That’s what get her fired from her last position, before they took over Pentangle’s when their Aunt had passed away a year later and entailed the family school to Pippa.

‘Absurd,’ the headmistress had said. ’Of course you can’t teach wizards witchcraft, what utter nonsense.’

She’d practically laughed Pippa out of her office, in the wake of Pippa’s request to take on a new applicate from a nearby town: a young boy whose magic didn’t seem to sit right in the school where an old friend was the school nurse. An old friend who’d thought of Pippa when the wizard kept coming into the ward with depleted energy and almost not casting to show for their spent magic, and there was nothing she could do to help them.

Pippa had been desperate to help, positive they knew the root of the young caster’s problem, but no one was willing to listen, no matter how much they begged. The headmistress had demanded Pippa’s resignation not long after, citing a pile of complaints made during Pippa’s time at the school, from parents with problems with their teaching methods, the results, the way they introduced themselves during parent’s evening.

It was the last one that truly stung.

Pippa almost spat in the witch’s face before packing her bags and leaving the grounds: the staff had known what they were getting when they hire Pippa, they’d never hidden who they were, never shied away from curious, harmless questions about their dissertation—still making waves more than a decade on—and the witch who wrote it. And what drove Pippa’s research in the first place.  

But no matter how much the rest of the teachers listened, very few of them every really understood. And even fewer really cared.

So, Pippa left and never once looked back at a society that kept magic casters divided to make sure there was nowhere welcoming for the type of witch they’d become.

They made a quick detour to visit her friend on the way, to offer their services to the wizard in her care, before coming home to the cottage their great-grandmother entailed them a decade ago.

It had been a bit drab, when they’d first inherited it. Dusty like it hadn’t been used in half a century (67 years, to be more precise, since Great Aunt Petunia, the famous family hermit, had passed away and left it to Pippa’s grandmother), decorated like it was the 80’s—1880’s, that is—and Pippa always was more of a twentieth century sort of person.

The first thing they’d done was redecorate the whole house, inside and out: painted the exterior champagne and pale with blue trim on the window panes, the inside peach sweet and light and adorned with long velvet curtains in warmest purple (they’d considered a crushed pink, when they were deciding on decor, but there was something about the purple that caught her eye. They thought it blended well with the red of the armchairs by the fireplace, at first; it took almost a full year to realised it was the colour of Hecate’s sash when they were at school).

They’d installed bookshelves along every wall, bare and empty at first, but swiftly filled to the brim with tomes and textbooks and grimoires: ancient texts that ground their research, studies that reach all around the globe with broaden it, newer text to further it. A balance between the ideas that delight her, and as many that contradict: to be as thorough as possible, of course, by putting the skills she’d developed when she was young and determined to find a suitable, useful gift to give Hecate every year, so she could see her best friend smile.

Pippa knows why they’re drawn to the most archaic of texts and does her best to forget (they don’t need to anymore: the biggest gift of all).

Nonetheless, their collection grew. More so with her first pupil: in Pippa’s care for a year, where they watched the young caster bloom with promise, until her Aunt had died.

He’d been Pentangle’s first new enrolment, coming with Pippa as they took over as Head Teacher; their first graduate, too, and Pippa couldn’t be prouder of the caster they grew up to be, the youngest member of the magic council.

But as proud as Pippa of all the students in their school, that doesn’t mean they never needed time away. And when she does, Pippa comes here, to her home away from the castle, with only Artemis to keep her company, usually perched high on the extra armchair Pippa really doesn’t need, no matter how fond her familiar is of it, especially given he has a handcrafted tree of his own, (and if the trunk of Pippa’s creation also happens to be a scratching post, it’s simply to keep her birds claws in check, nothing at all to do with the needs of any other familiar. Certainly not).

She used to have chickens, once, in a coop along the far side of the house. But when Pippa took over Pentangle’s they soon realised the longer hours required she be on-site, that taking paperwork with them wherever they went really wasn’t an option, and it simply wasn’t feasible to keep the brood caged away with no one to care for them.

So Pippa brought them back to the school during the first summer holiday. Set up an area on the east side of the castle, the expanse of overgrown grass that no one ever seemed to be able to tame or replace, where Pippa added few trees for shade and a dash of magic to help things along and made them all the beginnings of an orchard.

The teachers hadn’t known what to make of it, yet one more new thing to accept now that Pippa ran the school, but the students had loved it, even more when new chicks hatched, and their collection of fowls had almost tripled in the space of one spring.

The goat had been their Deputy’s idea, and by the end of Pippa’s second year at Pentangle’s the school had the makings of an entire farm, a vegetable patch even bigger than the one Pippa has at home.  

They hadn’t realised why they needed such a huge patch, why she’d plotted but never planted. Why they just let it grow whatever it wanted. Not till that tried to tame it, stripping it back in time for the spring break and Hecate impending visit: the reason Pippa had made it in the first place.  

Because it’s always been Hecate, even when Pippa thought she hated her: the colour of her curtains and the extra chair by the fire, a quite wilderness just outside a kitchen stocked like a baker lives in the same cottage Pippa has spent half their life perfecting.

And it is, perfect: almost, that is. Almost perfect with it’s always burning fire and enough books to keep even the most particular of occupied on rainy days, and a calendar on the wall that that marks nothing besides the passing of the moon and their loves next visit.

A calendar with a pink circle marking this very day: a day practically perfect in every way.

Pippa looks out the window, see a silhouette on the horizon coming closer and closer: the missing piece, only just out of reach.

But not anymore, because Hecate lands other side of the hip-height picket fence, cloak flapping in the breeze while she strips off her gloves, before making her way to Pippa’s front door.

Pippa meets her there, welcomes her in before she can knock: holds her closes, kisses her cheek, draws her inside. Goes off make tea while Morgana begins to sniff around the house; brings the tray back to see Hecate making herself at home, here, in front of the fire, sitting in a red velvet armchair with a book already in her lap.

Comes back to find Hecate has made herself comfortable here, in Pippa’s home, just the way it should be.

[randomvarious]

Aretha Franklin - “Until You Come Back to Me (That’s What I’m Gonna Do)” AM Gold: 1973 Song released in 1973. Compilation released in 1995. Soul

Yeah, I'm just not gonna do a biographical graf on Aretha Franklin, man. One, you should already know who she is, and two, that's just way too daunting of a task for lil' ol' me to take on . She's like the GoAT; not gonna do it.

What I will do though is give you a bunch of fun facts about one of her biggest hits, "Until You Come Back to Me (That's What I'm Gonna Do)," which was originally released as a single in November 1973 before appearing on her next album, Let Me in Your Life, the following year.

Much like the one, true, signature song of Aretha Franklin's career, "Respect," "Until You Come Back to Me" wasn't actually originally hers. And for those that don't know, Otis Redding actually released the original version of "Respect," but there's a reason that it's far less remembered; Aretha simply blew it out of the water with her own take. And we're talking Otis Redding here, man! Legend!

Well, guess what? She pulled similar shit on Stevie Wonder, too. Stevie Wonder! Yep. Although he recorded his version of "Until You Come Back to Me" in 1967, it didn't see the light of day until a decade later when it appeared on one of his greatest hits albums. But while it was shelved, Wonder played his version for Franklin, which inspired her to release her own version, one that she played a huge role in also producing.

And maybe that's one thing that's overlooked about Aretha Franklin's career. She was what many would consider to be the greatest singer of all time, and a wonderfully gifted pianist, too, but missing from that same breath would seem to be her ability to also produce a song. And this song in particular would appear to buttress that point.

But part of what makes this piece of smooth, catchy early 70s soul sound so good isn't just Franklin's own ability to produce. She enlisted a cast of all-star musicians to play beside her, too: Donny Hathaway on electric piano, Bernard Purdie on drums, and a few highly seasoned session musicians on guitar, organ, and flute. Plus, she was on acoustic piano herself!

Another really cool fact about this one is that while it sold a million records and hit #1 on the R&B chart, it peaked at #3 on the Hot 100 as well, which made Franklin the first ever artist in the history of the Hot 100 chart to have a song peak at all numbers from one through ten. That feat's only been pulled off by four other artists since: Marvin Gaye, Madonna, Drake, and Taylor Swift. Wow!

Gonna let critic Ed Hogan describe the song here:

[Aretha Franklin's] version of "Until You Come Back to Me (That's What I'm Gonna Do)" has a percolating pulse throughout, strong background vocals, fluttering flute runs, and Franklin's own gospel-flavored riffs.

Speaking of gospel, here's some other facts. Aretha Franklin is also a highly accomplished gospel singer. She was raised in it. Her father was C.L. Franklin, a very famous minister, and she got her start singing in the church. She was also partially raised by Mahalia Jackson (the queen of gospel rearing the queen of soul!) after Aretha's mother died just before she turned ten. Another thing about gospel and Aretha is that many people think that the reason why she kind of toiled early in her professional career on Columbia is because her deep gospel roots were being deliberately shied away from by the higher-ups. It's one of the reasons why she moved on to Atlantic Records and her career took off into unparalleled superstardom. Producer Jerry Wexler wanted to squeeze that gospel style out of her for her secular soul records, and well, the rest is history.

You can hear some of those impassioned gospel stylings on the brief, string-laden bridge of this song. Franklin is largely midtempo and cool on this one, but when she reaches deep into her soul, that's that gospel that was bred deep into her from a young, impressionable age.

One of Aretha Franklin's greatest hits that puts her multifaceted talents, from singing, to piano-playing, to songcraft, on full display. Classic track.