#noble shenanigans

[unravelingwires]

Harvesting

The difference between a very rich person and a noble fundamentally comes down to land. The noble families of Brittannia own the wide majority of land with a high magic connect on the island. This is more than an economic transaction: the blood of anyone new to the family gets mixed into the soil, and the magic of the land will follow them. The loss of noble families over time is due to land either losing magical potency over time or land being sold. Much of the magical land not owned by nobles is managed by a government body or similar in the modern day. 

The job of noble families has moved from defense of magical land from nonmagicals and other nations– mainly Scotland, Ireland, and to a lesser extent France– to land management. Nobles keep an eye on harvests and resource allocation to ensure the highest profit from their land. The Chels own the most profitable land in the nation.

[paradox-n-bedrock]

me in big fandoms: oh cool, it's so active and there's so many people to vibe with, this is amaz-

*finds my niche angle that appeals to approximately six people*

me: okay, folks, it's you and me now

[daddiesdrarryy]

Sirius: Reggie, look at my hair today, I look disgusting. I can’t go out in public like this!

Regulus: That’s never stopped you before

[gothamite-rambler]

Bruce Wayne: I leave you alone for an hour and you spent a thousand dollars with my credit card!

Jason holds two big tote bags filled with books

Jason Todd: You left me alone... In a Barnes and Noble! This was inevitable.

Bruce Wayne: I’m honestly glad that you’re not buying weapons anymore.

[davidtennan-t]

I really need to learn how to make my digital drawings look less of a mess and also use some different brushes so it looks less like a mountain of sketchy pixels but anyway

Donna is Fourteens comfort ❤️

[thedoctor-and-donna]

Since Fifteen is Fourteen healed (“healed”) he’s got to have Fourteens memories to an extent (it’s been well established that they don’t really remember the past events that involve two doctors of different times until it’s happened already)

That being said, do you think Fifteen ever calls up Fourteen and is like “hey babes, don’t go to the store today” and Fourteen is freaking out trying to figure out why but Fifteen doesn’t really remember why cause it hasn’t happened yet. It’s just a hunch Fifteen has

Turns out it’s cause Fourteen needs to buy milk for Rose but the milk she drinks is out of stock and it’s a wasted trip to the store

Fourteen phones Fifteen to be like “bruh” and Fifteen is just like “oh yaaaaaa, I remember now. Nothing to worry about tho!”

[jcollinswrites]

In my mind all MCs go to the mission and become close in a like found family way. I just feel like all four of them have what each other needs and would understand each other (or at least how I play my mcs lol)

That's a sweet thought! 🥰 I think they would all get along after a while if they knew each other properly. Something like...

Thief mc: "My friend, I'll teach you how to play with knives." *proceeds to do a trick with a pocket knife.*

Noble mc watches in fascination, tries to do the same, stabs themself, screams, everyone screams, the whole place is on fire.

Captain mc watches in silence, mortified. They can feel their last drop of willpower leaving their body. Priest mc is gently patting their shoulder.

Haha thanks for the ask 😘

[ao3-shenanigans]

Personal story I want to send into the void:

I went to visit friends in my small conservative hometown for the holidays and whilst in the local Barns and Nobel (the centerpiece of our dying mall) a person told me: “I like your sweater!”

I said: “thanks! I like your hat!” I had seen it was a beanie with a pin on it, though I could not make out the pin.

The person said: thanks! And somehow managed to incorporate a very smooth limp wrist (💅) into the gesture and we went back to browsing happily

My sweater I should note, is the ugliest, most oversized, thrifted knitted thing ever- garish purple and green on dark blue. I like it for a lot of reasons but tonight especially so for causing this interaction

I was later shifting through the D&D books and chatting with my friend about the campaign I’m running when the person from before comes up excitedly to mention that they too have run the same campaign (Curse of Strahd)!

We struck it off talking about home brew elements and different story arcs as one tends to do; I think they might’ve been flirting and I’m a little dense to see it

It didn’t go anywhere but they introduced themselves as Rebecca (if I heard right)

And Rebecca, if you see this- thanks; you made my night, it was really nice to see other queer nerds out here

I hope your dnd scheduling issues clear up soon and you can get a real good game in

[worstloki]

Loki didn't even do anything to the other Asgardians personally, unsure why they didn't like him so much and thought he was so suspicious

[spam-monster]

Seeing the Doctor and Donna together again just made me want an entire season of "Doctor hangs out with platonic gal-pals while the Master gets up to some shit and it ends with Donna yelling at them to just snog already".

...You think we could get Catherine Tate in Good Omens S3 as like a plant shop owner or assistant bookstore keeper that Crowley hangs around and whines about how much he misses his dumb angel to? @neil-gaiman ?

[that-homoerotic-blouse]

Can't believe Wild Blue Yonder also gave us one of the funniest Doctordonna shenanigans scenarios: the Doctor and Donna escaping from an eldritch horror in a golf cart

[unravelingwires]

Honourer

Children were made for their parents. Max was an arrogant idiot still able to charm most people he came across through optimism alone. Jaya was a self-sacrificing lunatic, compassionate enough to throw herself in front of any sword and smart enough to tell the difference between a bluff and a real swing. Raine was a heartless charmer with no more drive than dandelion fluff on the wind.

Lara… Lara was a duty-obsessed sadist with endless love for her sister. Lara was the kind of lesbian eager to marry a man if it would bring her mother the wedding of her dreams to plan. Lara was the kind of politician utterly uninterested in helping anyone if she brought her father the power he so desperately needed.

Lara knew how to be Lara. Lara, through war and friendship and Ellie would not forget.

[romance-rambles]

godheim alkaid | in which he has (almost) nothing to hide (anymore)

Years after you settle down near New Godheim, your sons take part in a scheme to distract their father before the big surprise party. Unfortunately, Alkaid is observant—and his sons take after him.

1.4k, post-canon, birthday surprises, really domestic stuff with slight angst, children of characters, reader is mc [mentioned only], series: an eventful first meeting

ALKAID IS TENDING TO HIS garden when the door to the quaint house he shares with his wife and three children creaks open.

Hushed whispers descend upon his blossoming garden, but he remains deliberately immersed in cooing over the flowers. His gloved fingers hover over, but never touch, the stems of the purple flower he once brought to life for his wife—back in the snow-buried Godheim he once called home.

Whatever silence his sons can scrounge up lasts only until someone starts shoving—from the yelping, he can guess it's Leo, the older of the two. They sort out the argument between them quickly, then wordlessly set out further into his garden.

And this is, apparently, how some siblings act, particularly if they're close in age. You've vouched for the statement with anecdotes of your school life, but even almost thirteen years later, he finds it hard to wrap his head around it.

He and Ehlonna were never so rough with each other—or at all. But then again, they could only ever dream of the only kind of childhood his sons know.

This is only another difference in a terribly long list, one he hopes will only grow longer.

"Hmm?" Alkaid pauses in his act, pretending to have only just noticed his sons' arrival. "Who is it?"

Silence greets him in return. He waits. A second becomes many, but they do not keep him waiting for long. Instead, they join him by the flowers, almost solemn in the way they gaze at his hard work.

And the way their eyebrows pinch together reminds him of you.

"And what brings the two of you here?" Resting his hands on his knees, he cranes his neck to greet them, one by one. A hint of amusement trickles into his tone. "Will you not be helping your mother this year?"

The two attempt to glance at each other. He leans back a little, disguising his short laugh as a polite cough. The remnants of a smile, however, linger long after his gloved hand retreats. Pressing the back of his bent fingers against his lips, he allows it to return to its former glory.

Behind his back, they converse wordlessly. He pretends he can't hear the rustling of their clothes as they gesture at each other.

"No," Leo huffs out. Forest green eyes narrow at him, carefully gauging his reaction. "There's no point in trying this year."

"Yeah," Sirius grumbles.

Unlike his brother, he's nearly the splitting image of his mother. The title is out of reach only because of the occasional reminders that Alkaid is his father—in the color of his eyes. In the thickness of his hair. In his love for gardening, and in his quiet perceptiveness, one that would leave him wise beyond his ears if he had been born into any other life.

"You always know what we're up to for your birthday."

Indeed, Alkaid thinks privately, settling down onto the ground, with his hands back on his knees. Without delay, his sons mimic him. Today is no different. But he'll pretend it is, though it remains to be seen if his youngest son will buy it.

"Oh," he utters instead. "You didn't get me a present?"

"Not a physical one," the blond says quickly. His words take on a biting quality at the end—the message is clear, both to his brother and to Alkaid, though it's aimed at only one of them. Say something. "We're going to do whatever you want to do, Father."

Turning his head to Leo, Alkaid pretends to think, "Well, I did plan on spending more time on the garden."

"Urk." His next words slip out through gritted teeth, not quite an affirmative, but neither is it a denial. The blond leans forward, unamused gaze pinned on his snickering brother. "Ahem, it's your birthday, Father. You should relax for the day. Somewhere far, far away from here."

"Your mother once did something similar," Alkaid says wistfully, obliviously. "How nostalgic."

In unison, with an ease that suggests much practice, the twins gag at his words. They cap it off with a bland, but insistent, "We know," having perhaps grown tired of hearing the same things over and over again.

"Have I mentioned it before?" he inquires innocently. He hasn't, by the way. Nor has he mentioned the ending, where you did manage to surprise him. Such a trick can only work so many times. "I must've forgotten."

"It's possible," Sirius agrees amiably, having recovered in remarkable time. His fingers lightly caress the soft petals of Alkaid's flowers. "It only shows how much you care about Mother. You make her tea whenever she wants and you've been growing these flowers because they remind you of her."

Less amiably, Leo grumbles, "And you've told us so many stories that we could recite them in our sleep. You and Mother both."

Alkaid smiles faintly. If that is the worst of his sins, of their sins, then surely, they're doing something right. That he has to listen to his children complain is a small price to pay.

"So, when are you going to give them to her?"

"I'm not sure," he admits.

It is the sense that he's being watched that spurs him to glance back at the kitchen window, but the curtain remains drawn, void of any silhouettes that would give the game away. He thinks of his wife, of the awkwardness that's settled into their home—a genuine mistake they don't feel equipped to fix, one that isn't even their own, not entirely.

But they should've expected it. They should've realized that people would carelessly bring Ehlonna up in front of the twins. They should've known better than to try and hide her sacrifice, her—

In that moment, the dark-haired boy nudges him, pulling his attention back onto the flowers. Carefully, a smile slots back into his pleasant expression. Alkaid unclenches his hand—and when had he done that?—and resolves to focus on the current matter at hand.

"Then, do the two of you have any ideas?"

"You'd know better," the younger blond mumbles, his spirits having noticeably dampened at the direction the conversation is taking. "You've known her for a long, long time. Longer than us, since before—"

As expected, Leo was—is—the bigger problem. And Alkaid understands it. He does. But he's allowed to hope that, one day, Leo will realize he has nothing to compensate for, even if he is a bit more withdrawn than his siblings.

A lot more withdrawn, actually.

Perhaps oblivious to the slight tension in the air, though that seems unlikely, Sirius interrupts him without a care. "Give them to her on her birthday!"

A sound option, but—

Alkaid glances at his oldest son. Lips jutting out into a pout, he glares at the unsuspecting flowers in front of him. Under the sun's warmth, his hair takes on a more golden hue, as if it was gold spun into delicate strands.

Brushing the boy's bangs out of his face, Alkaid asks, "And what about you?"

"Isn't it your birthday today?"

He holds his forehead and scowls. At his father's words? At his actions? The older blond remains uncertain. Scarlet blooms acroas the boy's cheeks, the color intensifying as his brother snickers.

Gently, Alkaid offers his younger son a rebuke.

"You're right. Why don't we change the subject then?" He chuckles, tapping his chin. A hint of amusement slips into his words; his next words come out almost song-like. "Now, what shall we talk about?"

"Anything else."

"From before you met Mother!"

As requested by his boys, the topic shifts. The garden soon forgotten, they talk about his childhood.

He talks about Zack, who he'd reunited with shortly after New Godheim had been established, who they knew as "Uncle Zack". He talks about Ehlonna, focusing on the happier memories—on stars, and how he thought she might appreciate the company.

He talks about the Archmage last, telling them close to everything but the period in between, where their relationship grew distant. Wording his sentences carefully, so that they won't look unkindly upon his mentor. Focusing on the happier bits, like the time he and Ehlonna threw him a surprise party, even though they—and the emperor, as well—knew nothing about the day of his birth.

And in the garden they remain, until the ringleader behind this surprise birthday operation comes to fetch them herself, when Alkaid utilizes his best acting skills to be nothing less than thoroughly caught off-guard.

They don't really believe him, but that's okay.

There's always next year.

[sillysuitsandwich]

I love reading Slytherin harry fics

I can't remember which fic has the one snake familiar that is white. …(the complete story)

[kerizaret]

Decapitated

[tardis-technician]

Why didn't we see the doctor and donna do this in the show

[Image ID: text from In The Blood by Jenny Colgan. It reads: The Doctor turned to look at her quizzically. 'Seriously?’ ‘You don’t even have an alarm clock!’ ‘I�� I do so have an alarm clock!’ ‘Yes, which you used to time that skipping race we had’ ‘I still think you—‘ ‘I did not make an illegal move! There are no illegal moves in skipping!’ ‘I’m just saying—‘ ’No illegal moves in skipping (written as one word in the book.)’ said Donna quickly as she stepped back onto the pavement. ./ End ID]