#lord and lady wind master my beloved

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Rumor has it - Tom Riddle x reader - Part 2/2

this is just fluff, so much fluff. Part 1

=

-eight years later-

The wind blew in softly from the open windows of the Alexander mansion, the sun just starting to rise across the quiet estate.

In the bed was a couple, married for five years just that past December, curled up next to each other and faces practically buried into their soft pillows. The woman of the two woke up first, yawning and cracking her jaw as she sat up in her shared bed, a soft smile growing on her face as she looked down at her sleeping husband.

She almost didn’t want to ruin this moment, for he looked so at peace in the quiet of sleep. But she had to, he had work in only a few hours. She leaned down, gently pressing her lips to her husband's cheek-which was slowly going from pale to tan over the years he spent in the sun.

“Good morning Lord Alexander,” she whispered, trailing her lips to his forehead as her husband, Tom Alexander-Riddle, groaned and rolled his face a bit, peering open a single eye to look at his wife-who had only grown more beautiful as the days went on. “you have work today,”

Tom just hummed, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her in for a lazy kiss, a heavy breath escaping him as she laughed into it and gently kissed back-pulling back to rest her forehead against his as he let his head fall back into the pillow.

“Tom,” (y/n) sighed, an amused smile on her lips as Tom’s arms tightened around her. “you have to get ready for work, or do you not want to be professor for defense against the dark arts?” Tom let out a small grumble and scrunched his nose-opening his eyes again to look up at his beloved (y/n) Alexander.

The two held a staring contest for a long moment before Tom sighed, closing his eyes and kissing his wife one last time before he rolled over to get up-chuckling as (y/n)’s arms latched around his torso and squeezed him tight. “Didn’t you just tell me to get up?” Tom teased in his sleep-raspy voice, knowing how much (y/n) loved it.

He felt a slight warmth against his back and a huff-and (y/n) released him. Tom chuckled and shook his head, getting out of bed and going to the bathroom-taking a quick shower as (y/n) relaxed in their bed-having no duties until at least 8 am.

Tom checked the clock as he stepped out of the bathroom-a towel around his waist. 5:45, perfect. Just enough time to have breakfast with his wife, the great hall wasn’t ‘open’ until at least 7, so he had time. With a wave of his wand his hair was put into its usual side style with a few locks of his curls hanging above his eye and he got dressed, leaving his robes on the loveseat as he left the bedroom and went into the kitchen-where Mrs. Swift was already making breakfast for (y/n) and Tom.

“Master Alexander, I’m nearly finished making breakfast, is there anything you need?” she asked as she set two tea cups on a tray and turned to Tom, who shook his head, he had only been checking on breakfast. “Very well, I will bring breakfast up shortly, is the lady still asleep?”

Tom checked his watch and snorted, nodding a bit as he spoke. “Most likely, knowing her; she stole my side of the bed again.” Mrs. Swift chuckled fondly and turned back to the stove while Tom made himself a cup of coffee and stole a scone from the tray to Mrs. Swift’s fake surprise.

Tom went back upstairs with Mrs. Swift close behind and stepped back into his bedroom, chucking as he saw his wife on his side of the bed with all the blankets curled around him. She had warned him she was a bit of a bed-hog, but he didn’t mind when it was quite cute.

“lady Alexander,” Tom whispered as he rounded the bed while Mrs. Swift placed the tray nearby, leaving the two alone after she made their tea. “Mrs. Swift made us breakfast,” (y/n) hummed softly and slowly sat up in bed, yawning as Tom found the breakfast tray and set it across her lap and grabbed her breakfast, setting it on the tray and then sitting by her feet as they both ate breakfast.

“Be nice,” (y/n) reminded him as he went to the fireplace to floo into work and Tom turned with a grin, a bit too sharp to mean well. “Tom,” (y/n) said sternly with a fond grin and Tom just chuckled.

“When am I not nice?” Tom teased, strolling back over to the bed and kissing (y/n) one last time, before quickly heading into work-stepping out of the fireplace at his office at Hogwarts.

He took a deep breath and took off his outer robe, getting to work and setting up his classroom for its first lesson of the day. Tom smiled as he remembered his first day as the professor for DADA about three years ago.

Right after he graduated-he had attempted to become the professor for defense against the dark arts-only for Headmaster Dippet to turn him away, something about Tom being too young. Tom, in his disappointment, went to (y/n) and she suggested he get some field experience to make him far more qualified to get the job-since just high marks in the class wouldn't do him much good.

So he did just that, going through auror training with ease thanks to his all-O’s report card from his newts and owls and quickly climbing the ranks for a few years before he settled and once again asked headmaster Dippet if he could become a professor.

He got the job and now Tom was three years into teaching, and he honestly couldn’t be happier. Once he thought he needed to be the best of the best, to be immortal, to have no one but himself and be feared by all. When in fact all he really needed was someone who loved him by his side and teach the new generation about his passion.

He hadn’t thought about Horcruxes since he was maybe 18, and the name Voldemort had been abandoned in his diary and left behind with his followers. He was still ‘friends’ with some of them, considering a lot of them were pure-blood debutants and had connections with his wife and her friends; but he no longer regarded them as his followers and the knights of Walpurgis were disbanded upon graduation.

“g’morning Professor Alexander!” Some students called as the masses descended upon his classroom. Tom smiled and stood straight from messing about with a large dresser that contained a boggart-greeting his 3rd-year class.

In some odd years or months, John Alexander would retire from being head of the family and pass it on to his daughter, and Tom would officially be known as Lord Alexander and it would no longer just be a name (y/n) teased him with because he had nearly become lord Voldemort.

He thinks he prefers Lord Alexander.

Tom brushed the thoughts away and got to teaching, introducing the riddikulus spell.

-

Tom sighed as he stepped back into the Alexander mansion, rolling his neck as he dropped his robes on the love seat and looked around the room for his wife, smiling tiredly when he saw her sitting outside on their bedroom patio, her eyes closed as she sat in the setting sun.

He walked quietly up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, smiling against her skin as she hummed and leaned into him. “how was your day?” (y/n) asked, though she sounded distracted, keeping her eye son Tom as he sat next to her on the chair beside hers and held her hand, sighing a bit as he let his head fall back-the setting sun warm against his skin.

“Good, the third years liked the lesson, one of them is apparently very amused by flying balloons.” (y/n) hummed, her fingers playing with his as they talked. Tom opened his eyes, looking at (y/n), who seemed very distracted. “Are you all right (y/n)?” (y/n) looked at him, a nervousness in her eyes that made Tom feel nervous. “Darling?”

She opened her mouth and then shut it quickly, looking as if she was trying to decide how to speak. “Tom…you…you like kids, right?” Tom shrugged, he had grown accustomed to them over his years at Hogwarts, but he wouldn’t deny he had some favorites from his classes.

“Depends on the kid, but I don’t hate them,” Tom said, looking at his wife intently, and then he smiled, knowing what worry was plaguing her. “but if it was our child, I would love them as dearly as I love you,” the nerves seemed to release from (y/n)’s body and she smiled, leaning towards him.

He followed her lead, moving to sit right beside her, holding both her hands. “I’m pregnant, Tom,” she whispered, smiling against Tom’s lips as he kissed her softly, the heel of his palm against her cheek as he ran his fingers through her hair.

Tom didn’t have any more words to offer, he simply held his wife as she sighed and fell into his arms as they pulled apart. “I have no idea how to be a father,” Tom muttered after a few minutes, and (y/n) snorted into his shoulder, smiling as she pulled away.

“You’ll be great, you’re students love you don’t they?” Tom shrugged, making a slight face-maybe??? Honestly, he had no clue, they liked him enough to not skip class at least.

“I’ll just ask your dad for advice; he was a good father for you right?” Tom muttered, grinning as (y/n) nodded against his shoulder, holding him tight.

A few months later, Tom received a letter from Abraxas, informing of his wife’s pregnancy and inviting him and (y/n) to the baby shower, along with congratulating Tom and (y/n) on their pregnancy.

‘Perhaps our children will be friends, we hope to see you at Malfoy Manor on December 12th’

Tom hummed at the letter and placed it in his lap, informing his five-month-pregnant wife of the invitation, smiling as she walked over to him-her stomach protruding just enough so she began to waddle a bit. Which he found adorable. “Abraxas and Melinia are having a baby huh?” (y/n) muttered as she took a seat in Tom’s lap as he guided her to it, resting his chin on her shoulder as he re-read the letter with her.

“yes, and they want us to attend their baby shower,” Tom muttered into the skin of her shoulder, his very pregnant wife only wearing a slip dress for her comfort. “Well, they went to our announcement party, and have already said yes to the baby shower this month, it would be rude not to accept,” (y/n) said like a true lady and Tom huffed, closing his eyes and curled his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her belly.

He felt a small thud against his palm and Tom couldn’t help the grin from growing on his face-if someone had told him at 16 that he would be so genuinely excited to be a dad-he would’ve never believed them, since back then he was still pretty hell-bent on being the dark lord.

And now here he was, about to host a baby shower for his darling (y/n) Alexander and go to another one the next month for the Malfoys.

“Tom?” (y/n)’s voice called gently and Tom hummed, rubbing his cheek against her bare shoulder, squeezing her a bit. “Do you want to go?”

“if you want to,” Tom muttered, feeling tired as he soaked up his wife's warmth. (y/n) chuckled and patted his hand, getting comfortable in his grip and leaning back against him, her weight supported by his build.

“I’ll rsvp yes then, but it’ll be up to Julien day of,” Tom hummed, slightly confused; but realized (y/n) was talking about their baby. “you think it’s a boy?” Tom asked quietly and (y/n) nodded, resting her head on the top of his, her hand coming back to run through his hair.

“I think so, what do you think?” Tom hummed slowly, lazily blinking as he looked down at (y/n)’s belly, running his fingers gently across the silk that covered it. “I hope it’s a girl, but…Julien? Really? What happened to Damian?” Tom teased, pressing his grin against (y/n)’s shoulder and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I think it’s nice,” (y/n) huffed fondly, folding the letter and setting it aside, sliding down in Tom’s grip and turning slightly, smiling at her husband who trailed his fingers up her bare arm. “and Damian’s my second choice, what were you thinking?”

“Arella,” Tom muttered, closing his eyes again and resting his head on (y/n)’s shoulder. “if they’re a girl,” (y/n) hummed softly, still running her fingers through Tom’s hair. “I like that,” she muttered, following Tom’s lead and the two took a nap on the love seat.

-

Julien Storge Alexander-Riddle was born on April 7th 1954, the heir to the Alexander fortune and the pride of his parents. He looked exactly like his father-with his mother's eyes. Tom stared at the boy in his arms for what felt like hours-a swelling in his chest he didn’t even realize he could feel. Tom swallowed hard, looking up at his wife, who was grinning from ear to ear-soaked in sweat and exhausted from giving birth, but she was smiling and Tom was crying-something he hadn’t done since their wedding and he saw her for the first time in her dress.

And before that-he had only cried once before, when he was 9 and terrified he was going to die of an illness.

He had long since left that fear of death behind, he felt he could rise above anything with this little baby in his arms, that was peachy red and wrinkled, but was all his. “Hi, I’m your dad,” Tom whispered to the wriggly Julien in his arms, who was already starting to fall asleep-like his mother who was already asleep-finally not in pain and free from the weight of Julien on her pelvis. “i-I didn’t grow up with parents, I did not know my father, and my mother died when she gave birth to me, but.” Tom licked his lips, blinking as tears ran down his flushed cheeks-holding his child closer. “I swear to you, I will do what I can to do right by you and your mother, you will never know my anger, you will never know darkness or hate like I did, I will love you like I have your mother; you will know only to be loved dearly and nothing else.”

Tom kissed Julien's forehead and smiled as the newborn cuddled into him and fell asleep.

Tom really never stood a chance.

-end-

Yeah-just a whole lotta fluff with Professor Tom, husband Tom, and dad Tom, ur welcome.

Storge is a Greek word for love, it means familial love also-Julien is an Aries, yall know what that means

#tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #Tom riddle #no voldemort au #fluff #just more fluff #Julien Riddle #dad Tom #professor Riddle

[97-liners]

HMMMMM in regards to the requests with the weird stuff . im throwing u my pitch of an idea i had but i doubt i’ll ever get to writing but . something dark with joseon era lord!jeonghan? like he’s infamously known amongst the townspeople to never cross him because he’s always a hairtrigger away from going axe-crazy and killing anyone who gets on his bad side . but then you’re also his morality pet who he loves oh so dearly . idk. jeonghan with a glint in his eye and with blood smeared on his face and his sword dripping crimson but then he always caresses your cheek and greets you gently and softly. IDK.

teehee cat here u go sorry it took a week

lord!jeonghan x maid(?) reader | warning for horror i guess | words: 1k

it happened again.

you can tell because the servants are pale as they rush around, murmuring in hushed voices. one of the new kitchen maids looks absolutely terrified as she brushes past you. “–d you see? …covered in blood, and he was still–”

“enough,” the old housekeeper snaps. “hurry and draw a bath for young master yoon. and tell the laundry to prepare vinegar and cold water.”

(it’s been years since jeonghan has been young master yoon, but sometimes you think that grandfather seo looks at jeonghan and sees the person he used to be. grandfather seo had always been so affectionate, too sentimental beneath his cantankerous facade.)

you watch, silently, as the kitchen maids clutch at their sleeves and bow their heads before hurrying to their duties. nobody spares you a glance, not even grandfather seo. instead, he sighs heavily and sits on one of the ornate granite stools in the courtyard, groaning as his joints creak. 

hot water, you think. one of the kitchen maids should bring him a basin of hot water and a towel for his bad back. you can imagine the thick, humid air of the kitchen, the large glazed jug resting on the stove, always filled with water and piping hot, ready for whoever needs it. the smell of the straw fire, the smoke stinging at your eyes. but instead of walking the familiar path back, you gather your robes and walk towards the main house. 

(there was a time when you were a maid too, with chapped hands and the persistent smell of smoke clinging to your clothes. but it’s been years since you stepped into the kitchen. you hold a strange position in this house– not a servant anymore, but not a lady either. something in between. a pet, they used to sneer. the young master’s beloved, grandfather seo says.)

the moonlight-sheer silk of your outer robes flutter in the wind as you make your way across the courtyard and under the arch separating the back of the manor from the front. the sun is setting now, and the sky is bloody red, making your white robes glow scarlet. 

jeonghan sits in his private chambers, legs crossed, elbow propped against his desk. there are no servants here– nobody is brave, or foolish, enough to cross jeonghan’s path when he’s in such a state. the sliding door leading to the gardens is open, and as soon as he sees you rounding the corner, his expression brightens.

“oh, my little dove,” he calls out to you, tilting his head affectionately. “i’ve missed you all day.”

you smile, hands clasped, as you make your way towards him. “good evening, my lord. did you just return?”

jeonghan looks like a disaster. his celadon-blue robes are covered in blood, soaked into the heavy silk like ink stains. there’s blood spattered on his cheek and on his hands, and he’s still carrying his sword, unsheathed, covered in gore. 

you carefully step up onto the threshold of the room, holding the hem of your skirts out of the way. they swirl like gossamar as you walk towards him and take a seat at his side.

jeonghan finally takes the cloth off his desk and begins to wipe the blood off his sword, like a ritual. “where have you been all day?”

“i apologize for my absence, my lord,” you say as you begin to pour him tea. white tea, his favorite. “i was feeling weak this morning, so i rested.”

“my poor darling,” he croons, pausing to lift his hand to your cheek. the blood has dried now and flakes off his skin like rust. impossibly gently, he strokes his fingers down the line of your jaw, as if to reassure you. you imagine the blood smearing in streaks. 

swallowing down the lump in your throat, you smile at him again and present him his tea. “it’s nothing to worry about.”

jeonghan sighs, but he doesn’t take his tea. “you know i worry, though. how can i not?”

“you’re too good to me,” you mumble, looking away.

“never.” the tender, loving way he tucks your hair behind your ear is at odds with the scent of blood and gore on his hands. he tilts his head into your field of vision in that silly way that he always does, smiling even as his hair falls into his face. 

“i heard about what you did today,” you say quietly.

jeonghan’s smile falters for just a moment, but it passes in a blink of an eye. “don’t fret, darling. you know i don’t kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

of course, jeonghan’s grasp of morality isn’t quite all that… there. at least, not these days. you wonder how much he had to torture today’s poor victim before he got the confession he wanted to hear, regardless of whether it was true or not. 

“you’re unhappy.” jeonghan frowns. “please trust me.”

“i do,” you tell him. it’s a lie, and you know he can tell. 

“i swear.” his hand closes around yours, leaving rust-colored smears of blood on the white silk of your sleeve. “i won’t rest until i’ve fulfilled my promise. you remember that, don’t you?”

(you remember. by the time he finds you, it’s too late. you stare up at grey clouds, lightening with daybreak, eyes open but not seeing. who did this, he asks, but you can’t answer.

jeonghan has never begged before, but he’s on his knees now, gripping your shoulders, begging you. the great lord yoon pleading to a mere servant girl who somehow became something precious to him. he makes the promise right then and there. revenge.)

there’s no point. you want to tell him, but you can’t, so you just smile at him and squeeze his hand in return. your dear jeonghan, too cunning and vengeful for his own good. 

he’ll find out eventually, you’re sure because jeonghan always finds out in the end, that the man who killed you had drowned in the river later that same night, his head held down under the water as he struggled. all the desperation in the world is nothing in the face of a vengeful spirit. 

(you had waited until he stopped moving, and then you counted to 100 after that just to make sure, and then you watched as the body was carried by the water out of town, out towards the sea.

and then when you were done, you turned back and stepped out of the river. you needed to be back at the manor by daybreak. you weren’t supposed to be out, and jeonghan would be upset to find you gone.

the sun was rising.)

#cat 🦦 #ask #97.yn #97.writings #97.drabbles #man it's been so long since i've written i forgot how i tag things lmao #uhh. #seventeen scenarios #i think i made the premise clear? but lmk if it ended up just being confusing lol #ANYWAYS IF YOU'RE READING THE TAGS.... requests are open <3

[gayhokage]

2023 character wrapped tyy @yuritual

1. my one and oni arataki itto 😝 ty my friend sunny (@imagine-salamander) for my little itto plushie 🥹❤️💜

2. SHE IS YOUNG AND SWEET MY LORD LADY WIND MASTER QINGXUAN 🩵 i’m sooo happy with how tgcf s2 has been so far i love her so much 😝😝

3. @dththkd and i watched the naruto stage lives this year they are a lot of good fun :’)

4. binggyyyy 🥰❤️❤️

5. hashirama senju my most beloved hashirama senju thank you naruto chinese game for giving me the most beautiful image of him 🥰🤧🤲🏻

6. yes i still take my xie lian plushie with me every where i go this was his biggest adventure this (last) year to seattle but more recently we went and saw the boy and heron together :3

@neige-leblanche @crystalis @villaiknight @intheglaze @hestiashand or anyone else who wants to just tag me :3 🫶🏻

[nightmyst14-blog]

Snippet of a story I'm writing.

So... The CRK Oc is taking a bit longer than I thought. But I wanna to show you guys a snippet of what I've done so far.

Hope you like it!!

“Captain…Your debt to the abyss is due…”

“W-wait please!!!”

Sour Cream Cookie didn’t understand how he got into this situation… 

Here he was, standing over a man, holding a knife to his neck. He glared at the man with a death glare, his beast aside him. His thoughts racing. The wind blew hard around him, his hair running wild.

“ P-Please I-I’ll do a-anything!!” The man said frantically, pressed up into a corner. Sour Cream’s werehound partner growled, baring their fangs.

“ I apologize, Captain Sea Spike Cookie …” He said, starting into their eyes. “ You’ve been an excellent host for me and Calypso, but I’m afraid I can’t … The Lady of the Abyss is expecting you..”

He was a noble, head of House Scone in the slowly evolving Creme Republic, not a killer. He created things to help others, not destroy How did he get here? 

His memories leading up to this moment flashed in between seconds…

.

.

.

.

“ The ship will be ready to depart soon, my lord!!” A worker said, leading a barrel onto the nearby ship, the Blue Crystal.

Lord Sour Cream Cookie looked out onto the clear blue water, smiling a bit. Its been a year or two since he’s been offshore. His family had traveled far to the blossoming Creme Republic, a small ever evolving city, where refugees come to seek help and safety, helping others.

He did his part in the city, too. Creating jobs by hiring sweet and salty Cookies alike to work for him, being from a family of shipwrights, he always had a fascination with boats and ships. How they work, how miniscule of every fabric and splinter of wood work together to move far across vast oceans. A master of his craft, he earned his small bit of fame of being able to fix and create strong ships.

“ I used to rule the world…. I created so many beautiful things...”

A voice soon snapped him out of his thoughts.

“ Sour Cream!!” Light Cream Cookie called out, walking over to him. She held an umbrella above her head, looking out the sun rays from her eyes. She looked lovely, wearing out of her best sundresses..

He smiled at her, turning around and making his way over to her. His beloved wife,his queen. 

“My love!!” He exclaimed, greeting her with a hug. “ What are you doing here, my darling? I thought you were in bed.” 

“I was, but our son grew restless.” Light Cream said, rubbing her swollen belly. “I wanted to see you before you left.” 

Sour Cream smiled, placing his hand on her stomach, feeling the baby kick. His heir. His beloved child. 

“ They are growing stronger each day…” He said, looking up at Light Cream. He kissed her on the head, smiling brightly. 

“ Do you have to go?” Light Cream asked, her delicate features wrinkling up with worry. She’s been having a bad feeling since a few weeks ago. “I don’t like this idea..”

Sour Cream goes to answer her, but hears the captain call his name. 

“ Lord Sour Cream!!” Captain Butterscotch Cookie called to him from the ship's deck. “ We best be going soon, We want to pass the Black Pearl Islands on a clear day, sir!”

“ Yes, be right there!!” Sour Cream replied, looking back at Light Cream.  “ My beloved, this is for the best of House Scone. I just..” He held her hand tight. “I want to be sure you and our son are comfortable.”

Light Cream looked down at her feet, trying not to cry. ” What if you don't come back?”

“I should have listened to her… I could have been there for her”

“Nonsense! “ Sour Cream kissed her on the head, smiling at his wife’s face. “I will always come back to you, no matter what it takes.”

“ Really?” She asked, looking up.

“ I promise. To the divine themselves, I will come back.” Sour Cream replied, cupping Light Cream’s face. He rests his forehead on hers.

“ We settled on a name right?”

“ Yes. Clotted Cream Cookie.” Light Cream said, smiling a bit. “ I wish you could be there when he arrives..’

“ Its only 4 months, just passing through the Duskgloom Seas.” He said.” After that, I’ll be sure to hire someone to do all my trips.”

“ I was a fool... I AM a fool...”

Sour Cream kissed his wife once more before walking away. He headed up the plank onto the Blue Crystal , looking back with each step. Light Cream was waving at him, smiling bright as the sun itself.

He waves back. “I promise to write to you every month!!”

“ I look forward to it!!” She said, giggling happily.

“ I missed that smile...I should’ve stayed..”

.

.

.

.

Written another letter, sir?” One of the first mates asked, walking by as Sour Cream was tying a wrapped up piece of paper to a Sugar Dove.

“ Hn? Oh yes, !!” The blonde replied, letting the dove go and fly. “ I Just wrote that we were near the Duskgloom Seas, so my letters might be a bit late for a while.”

“Hmph. Glad ya did.” The first mate said, crossing their arms. “ There’s a storm coming this way, the captain suggests on sailing through it.”

Sour Cream looked confused, adjusting his glasses. “But the most dangerous storms are created near the Duskgloom Seas, wouldn’t it be better to sail around it?” He asked, looking off the distance to where the dove flew off.

They shrugged. “ Its the Captain’s orders, not much you can suggest unless there’s damage to the ship. There isnt any, is it?”

“ N-no.. I checked every nook and cranny of this place. Not a crack nor splinter on this ship of mine.”

" Ah, I've sailed through plenty of storms!!" The two jumped when they heard the Captain's voice, turning to look at him. "Don't worry your head about, dear lord!!"

But Sour Cream couldnt stop worrying about it. "C-Captain Butterscotch C-Cookie, I if I may.." He said, adjusting his glasses again. " T-The Duskgloom Seas are said to be the most dangerous part of the ocean! There are many rumors of an ancient being living there as well. I suggest we take caution and find another path."

"Hah! I dont believe in any fairy tales or stories, your greatness!!!" Captain Butterscotch said, laughing. "You sure do have a creative mind, sir!!"

"Haha, I guess.. It is just a sailor's fairytale I heard..." Sour Cream replied, chuckling a little. "Word does get around fast with us shipwrights...

" The truth is scarier than fiction I guess...."

.

.

.

Hope you like that snippet of mine!! Hopefully I make the first part soon!!

#cookie run fanfic #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk headcanons #clotted cream cookie #light cream cookie #cookie run oc #crk oc #crk oc: sour cream cookie

[deiscension]

▐ 「 DEISCENSION. 」 —  semi-selective / sporadically active / mutuals-only

featuring shi qingxuan from tian guan ci fu. written by lain (they/them, 21+). pfp by shishileo (x) ; header by meru90 (x). currently on semi-hiatus!

﹄ her personality was like the wind; fair and free, going wherever it pleases. 

a study on how living in eternal sunshine blinds you to the shadows; on the wonders of a world too big for your hands to hold; on a life that will never be worth the prices paid; on how to fall without grace and find a way to stand again.

personals do not interact! carrd linked above.

you do not have to be familiar with either tgcf or genpact to interact. i have various verses available and will happily discuss how to best interact if you’re unsure!

and then there’s the usual: i won’t tolerate ooc bigotry of any kind. if your blog promotes ped0philia, nonc0n, hom0phobia, and/or transph0bia, it’s an insta-block. there’s a difference between having fiction which contains these topics vs using them for a shock factor; what i look for is the understanding that your fictional scenarios are someone else’s nonfictional experiences. 

this blog is semi canon-divergent in some aspects. none of my muses are cishet. please be respectful of this, especially in regards to shi qingxuan as their gender nonconformity is extremely important to their characterization. while sexuality and shipping are not the goal of this blog, i appreciate and expect respect for this regardless.

fair warning for possibly triggering content: each of the featured muses are heavily associated with death, isolation, mourning, and war. xie lian in particular has a deep and messy history with war, disease, isolation, imprisonment, child death, extreme violence, suicide attempts/ideation, psychological and physical torment, and layered trauma. shi qingxuan’s gender identity and her struggle with being taken seriously is something that’s bound to come up, as i’m not keen on shying away from that aspect of her characterization. i will give a head’s up if any of this is going to become relevant to the thread, but please be aware these themes are present and very much at play. 

﹄ muses. shi qingxuan is the main muse. xie lian and zhongli are request-only. 

﹄ shi qingxuan. lady wind master / the young lord who pours wine. ( VERSES )

genderfluid, transfemme (she/they/he) | ~400, give or take | bisexual | boundless and free

lord wind master is boundlessly talented, lord wind master is funny and carefree, lord wind master is kind and righteous, lord wind master is aged sweet sixteen. truer words have certainly never been spoken of a god such as shi qingxuan before (with the exception of being aged sweet sixteen-- but that’s about capturing the spirit of things, of course)! a kind, generous, and righteous soul, shi qingxuan is known to many and beloved by all. or something like that. maybe not exactly like that. her peers flock to her in times of fair weather, but it can’t be said they would be so quick to stick by her side. but that’s alright; she has a sensible older brother, an unflappable best friend, and all the luck in the world to keep her from going astray. that’s not to say she doesn’t try to handle her own affairs. she makes every effort possible to earn the awe and worship placed at her feet by her worshippers. it’s just, well... lady wind master has a long way to go with truly understanding what it means to have a fate as wondrous as hers.

*note: i default to writing sqx before the black water arc as well as with using she/her. if you’d like to interact with her as she is during and after black water arc, just let me know!

﹄ xie lian. the god pleasing crown-prince / laughingstock of the three realms

transmasc | 800+ | homosexual | thrice-ascended, twice-cursed

a down-to-earth, good-humored young man who collects scraps and claims to be a traveling cultivator. quite knowledgeable on the preternatural and well-learned in most other areas of life, he’s easy to get along with and even easier to receive help from. often seen in simple white robes and a bamboo hat, he’s the perfect picture of humble modesty.... er, perhaps a bit too humble, actually; it’s quite easy to tell he’s not got a penny to his name. nevertheless, he’s rich in spiritual power- ah, no, that’s not right either. he is quite lacking in that department as well. and he has no family name, nor does he belong to any particular shrine or territory.... what does he have, then? compassion. good sensibilities. an open heart. tenacity. patience. stories; lots and lots of stories. everything that makes someone a reasonably good person--but that doesn’t do much in the way of making your way in the world, and it also doesn’t mean he’s always been a good person. but he’s a god, right? so what’s he good for, then? you could ask him to his face and he’d just laugh and say, “Well, I’m trying to figure that out myself! Would you care to join me for a while?”

﹄ zhongli. lord of geo / consultant at the wangsheng funeral parlor

masc nonbinary | 6,000+ | bisexual (taken by @frczenwaters​ kaeya) | god of contracts

an even-tempered and well-learned man appearing to be in his late 30′s to early 40′s, zhongli is the amicable but ever elusive consultant of liyue’s wangsheng funeral parlor. his manners, presentation, knowledge, and hospitality are impeccable.... his financial literacy? not so much. but where there’s lack of material riches there is a wellspring of stories and information to be told on a tongue as golden as the eyes that gaze out lovingly, yearningly, upon the shimmering seaside harbor. as solid as stone and severe as the mountains, zhongli is never one to break his promises. his vow to remember and care for liyue have stood the test of time-- a lonesome, solitary test that he has long tired of. he seeks the company of his people now, the experience of companionship that he has only had the fleeting and bittersweet taste of far too few times in his long life. perhaps not the most emotionally well-rounded person-- but a heart of stone is a heart nonetheless. 

#* PINNED #▌ ◈ ZHONGLI ; ⌜ tags ⌟ #▌ ◈ XIE LIAN ; ⌜ tags ⌟

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

7/2/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

2 Kings 1-4

Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill, and today is the second day of July. Welcome, friends. It's our last day together as I wind down my time with you and my daughter China takes over the mic for next week and then we will be together again. Lord, willing and the creek don't rise. Today we're reading Second Kings, chapters one, two, three, and four. And today's the last day that we're reading from the Christian Standard Bible. Two Kings, chapter one.

Prayer:

Father, we thank you for your word today. We thank you for this week. And we look back and close the chapter on all that is left undone that we are not to take into next week. We lay it at your feet and we look ahead with newness, with hope, with new mercies, with promise. We consecrate this week ahead to you. Do what you will in our lives, in our hearts, in our minds, and may we be an example of your love to everyone that we come in contact with. Be in everything we do, everything we say, everything we speak. I pray that we would be followers and representatives of a most loving and merciful God. We pray this now in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Announcements:

Hope you all have a great week ahead. I place you in the very delicate, beautiful, feminine, and capable hands of my daughter China, and I will see you the week after next. Have a great week, everybody. Until then, love one another.

Community Prayer Line:

Oh, dear. Papa, I just heard Whitney. She's seven days out from losing her apartment and she's got kids and she feels helpless. There's nothing she can do about it. Please rescue her. Give her hope for something, Lord. Please give her strength to walk through whatever it is that she's got to walk through. Please help her take care of her kids. Please help her be able to feed them and please help them to find a place to stay. Oh, dear Lord, we're begging you, Lord. Please take care of Whitney and her kids. We're begging you, Lord, please. Please give her hope. Please take care of her. Help her find a place so that they're not living on the streets. Lord, we love you so much. Lord, thank you so much. Whitney, please hang in there. That's going to take care of you. Even if you lose your apartment, god is going to take care of you. This is bad, but God will take care of you. We love you. This is Adrian from Maryland.

Greetings, my dearly beloved community. This is Phil from California. I am sending you love and I am calling in response to the prayer requests that were aired on June 28 from Whitney, from Tabitha, and then from another lady who just got an interview and maybe getting the job, but she wants a hybrid program. Father, I pray, Lord, first for Tabitha. You say, Father, that in Jeremiah 33, call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsuitable things you do not know. Father, I pray that as Tabitha goes unto you, dear Lord God, to save her and rescue her from the bad habits that she's picked up, and bless her with new habits. Dear Lord God, I pray I know that changing habits is such an undertaking and it's so overwhelming when we try to change everything at the same time so far. They pray that you give her the discernment and the wisdom to pick up one habit at a time. And Father, I pray that you give her the success of mastering that habit, dear Lord, and I pray that she's about to celebrate the victories, the small victories, father, I pray for it. And I pray that you heal her depression. You heal her anxiety, dear Lord, that whatever measures she's taking, dear Lord, I prefer blessings, I prefer Whitney. Please, Father, bless. I pray that they don't take away her home, dear Lord, I pray that you bless her family. I pray that you guide her and comfort her, dear God, father, lord, hear her plight, because, Father, you're the God who listens intently and you already have a solution. And I pray for the lady with the job, father, bless her, hear her cries. It's in Jesus name, I pray. Amen.

Hello, DABC family, this is Samantha from Tennessee. I wanted to call in and pray for Ivory. So Lord, I know this is a bit of an unconventional prayer, but thank you for bringing us to the end of ourselves. Thank you for bringing us to the drive places, to the desperate places, so that we get a good reset. Lord, I pray that Irene's unemployment would make her desperate and hungry for you, Jesus, that anything that is good that happens to her, she will know came from you and that you would give her the supernatural peace that comes from you and not from material promises. I also ask that in her desperation for you, Lord, your Holy Spirit would fill her and give her what she needs to love her son well. Soften his heart, Lord. Healed his heart and his body, even if that means you have to bring him home. And Lord, I pray that in this desperate dry season, you would make light the obvious path for her life. Lord, let this be a true reset and a redirection, if she needs it, to a new career that is going to be according to your purpose for her life. Thank you for always coming through for us.

Joe, this is Kelly from Niagara Falls. I just heard your commentary on June 28 and it just really encouraged my heart. Our family is going through a really hard thing right now and your encouragement to us through your commentary that we would get through it, that we would endure to the other side and that we would get through it and that this does not have to be the end of our story and that God is so good, he gives us new mercies every day, grace and just forgiveness. And I'm just going to continue to press on from this message because it encouraged me to keep going as I was feeling like I just want to give up every day when this burden just keeps coming on my shoulder. And I love how you said, put it down, lay it down. And I guess that's the prayer. I could use one for my family. I'm really praying for salvation for my children. It kind of all in lines with that and the part about where we lay that burden down and not pick it back up again. So I would appreciate prayer from all of you and I want to thank you for this word because it spoke to my heart and I'm so grateful that this isn't the end of our story and that God uses us through everything, through the pain, and I praise Him for that and I keep looking forward to victory in this problem that we're walking through and I'll be sure to share it with you. Thanks so much, friend.

[imaginarianisms]

full name :  daenerys i targaryen. other names :   dany, my lady, little princess, dan ares, wife, moon of my life, sweet queen, good lady, great lady, sweet lady, my shining queen, gentle queen, fair queen, great queen, gracious queen, just queen, bright heart, bright light, little silverhair queen, my radiance, my delight, my light of love, my love, my sweet song of joy, her grace, your grace, your worship, your high-and-mightiness, your radiance, your magnificence, stormborn, daenerys stormborn, daenerys stormborn of the house targaryen the first of her name, daenerys targaryen the first of her name, queen of the andals and the rhoynar and the first men, queen of meereen, queen of westeros, queen of the nine daughters, queen of the bay of dragons, empress of all valyria, princess of dragonstone, princess of summerhall, the dragon's daughter, dragonmother, khaleesi, khaleesi of the great grass sea, khaleesi of the dothraki, mhysa, the breaker of shackles, the unburnt, the breaker of chains, the mother of dragons, the mother of monsters, the bride of dragons, the bride of fire, the daughter of death, the slayer of lies, child of three, little girl, arrogant child, soft mewling fool, the beggar queen, treacherous sow, westerosi pig, cow, little whore, ignorant whore of a westerner, horselord's whore, whore, little whore, westerosi whore, the whore of westeros, bitch of a queen, oathbreaker, monster, the mad king's daughter, sunset savage, savage, bright shining child queen, the targaryen girl, the young queen shining from afar, mother, tato, aelalla, maela, qathei, our beloved queen, young girl, little queen, child queen, sweet young girl, little dragon queen, sweet child queen, the targaryen princess, the targaryen queen, the true targaryen, our hope, our rightful queen, the queen of the rabbits, the younger more beautiful queen, the daughter of dragons, the silver lady, the silver queen, the dragon queen, the queen across the waters, the queen across the sea, the queen in the east, the queen beyond the bones, the lady regent of the seven kingdoms, the queen of the sunset kingdoms, the queen of the seven kingdoms, lord of the seven kingdoms, protector of the seven kingdoms, protector of the realm, slayer of masters, the liberator, the unifier, aegon the conqueror with teats, rhaenyra come again, she-dragon, the fairest of them all, the fairest woman in the world, the most beautiful woman in the world, the last dragon, the amethyst empress returned, the world's deliverer, the prince that was promised, the princess that was promised, azor ahai, azor ahai returned, azor ahai reborn, the great stallion, the fiery stallion, the stallion who mounts the world, the unifier of the great grass sea, zhavorsa kazga, khal vezhven, sorceress, the black dragon, the dragon, the winged victory, daenerys the dragonbinder, daenerys the dreamer, daenerys the conqueror, the great khaleesi, the great khal, the obsidian empress. age : 16-17 (a game of thrones), 18-19 (a clash of kings), 20-21 (a storm of swords), 22-23 (a feast for crows-a dance with dragons-the winds of winter), 24 (a dream of spring). species : human; seeress & dragonrider (main); human; draconic alterhuman (modern). gender : femme leaning futch presenting cis woman. sexuality : ambiamorous demibiromantic bisexual.

origin : dragonstone, the crownlands, westeros. (main; verse varies); america (modern; verse varies). current location : dragonstone. (main; verse varies); americas (modern; verse varies). nationality : westerosi; essosi (main; canon); american (modern). ethnicity : the blood of old valyria (house targaryen, house velaryon, possibly house celtigar & house rogare), with first men (house blackwood & house massey), rhoynar (house martell & house dayne), andal (house arryn) & summer islander (house velaryon) ancestry (main); multiracial; white, indigenous, black, latina, & desi. spoken languages : high valyrian, dothraki, ghiscari & the common westerosi tongue. (main; canon); english, spanish, italian, latin, asl & basl. (modern). family : aerys ii targaryen (father-uncle), rhaella targaryen (mother-aunt), rhaegar targaryen (older brother), viserys iii targaryen (older brother), rhaego (son; khal drogo), drogon, rhaegal & viserion (her children, her dragons) the silver (her mare), barristan selmy (grandfather figure), shaera velaryon (maternal figure; @velcryons). partner(s) : khal drogo (first husband; deceased), hizdahr zo loraq (second husband; executed on charges of treason), daario naharis (paramour), currently single.

occupation : queen. (main; canon). student, activist, influencer & socialite as she technically doesn't have to work as a wealthy woman but does so anyway. (modern). religion :  syncretic view of the gods of old valyria, the dothraki horse god the great stallion, & the faith of the seven & later mother rhoyne, r'hllor & the old gods; omnist. height :   5'2". body type :  slender, hourglass, fairly well toned; short. disabilities & neurodivergencies : autistic, C-PTSD & hypersexuality due to trauma. hair : silver-gold (natural); was bald for a time after khal drogo's funeral pyre, her hair became short & recently grew long with intricate braids interweaved with silver bells. eyes :   bright eyes; amethyst eyes. tattoos : obtains traditional henna tattoos on her hands. piercings :  n/a (main; canon); beaded & a dragon in hoop earrings style (modern). scars : her hands are calloused due to being the wife of a warlord, has faded stretch marks across her belly from her pregnancy carrying rhaego, on her inner thighs & hands while riding drogon before she gets the proper saddle & reins. (main; canon).

educational background : little growing up, mostly streetsmarts for a very long time as she grew up on the streets of the free cities in exile with her brother viserys then later becomes self taught in a khaleesi then a queen's education & eventually becomes knowledgeable in magic & valyrian sorcery, particularly glass candles via marwyn the mage of the citadel. (main; canon); college. (modern). social media : n/a (canon); most general social media (modern). smoking :   n/a. drinking :   social. drugs :   cannabis to induce trance & divination by the dosh khaleen at vaes dothrak; has taken the shade of the evening while visiting the house of the undying in qarth.  athletics : a wonderful dancer, quick runner & rider of horses & dragons. hobbies :   singing, dancing, flirting, music, poetry, writing, literature, reading children's stories & songs from westeros about tall & handsome heroes, languages, history, archery, gardening, sunbathing, bathing in scalding hot baths, equestrianism, riding, hawking, sailing, swimming, sweet things, dragonlore & sorcery. favorite drink :   mare's milk, peach juice, milk & honey. favorite food :   sausages, cheese, grapes & peaches. favorite music :   classical (canon); indie, folk, pop, classical, rock (modern). clothing style :   classical gowns of the age, wears mostly gowns of silks, satins, velvets, myrish lace, furs whenever necessary and jewels, does wear dothraki wardrobe with a painted vest & riding leathers while barefoot & her hair oiled, with silk or horsehair pants, woven grass sandals, a medallion belt and a hrakkar cloak that was gifted to her by khal drogo, has a qartheen gown which leaves one breast bare & several ghiscari tokars, was gifted a lacquered dragon mask from the asshai'i shadowbinder quaithe upon her visit there that she occasionally uses in warfare for intimidation and to protect her face, and according to rumor to prevent others from falling in love with her, upon returning to westeros, she begins to wear more westerosi & valyrian cultural clothing while wearing one sun painted on each of her cheeks representing her desire for justice and vengeance for elia martell and her two children rhaenys and aegon targaryen and as homage to the princess nymeria of the rhoynar who led her people to a new home, gemstones reflecting both her valyrian and non-valyrian heritages that're connected to the silver bells in her intricately braided hair as per dothraki custom, one for each of her victories in her conquests of western essos and now westeros; while she does show homage to her non-valyrian heritage by wearing an overcoat with the sigils of house velaryon, house massey, house arryn, house martell, house dayne and house blackwood, she mostly begins wearing her black valyrian steel armor created from the forges of qohor during her conquest of essos and dresses of the black & red of house targaryen. (main; canon); casual/business casual, coquette, goth, hyperfeminine, academia & preppy (modern).

Tagged by: stole it from ourselves& !! Tagging: anyone who breathes !

#daenerys targaryen. || headcanons. #dash games. #/ w slur #/ sex worker slur #ask to tag / tw ! #/ incest mention #<- jic #bc yknow. she's a targaryen & there's a lotta inbreeding in there

[toaster-fire-art]

Revenge plot? I would have simply fallen in love with Shi Qingxuan instead

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #my art #toasterfireart #tgcf fanart #shi qingxuan #ming yi #he xuan #shuangxuan #beefleaf #i really hope anyone new to tgcf does not know the spoilers this entails and does not scroll through tags going ayo who is he xuan #THEY COULD HAVE BEEN FRIENDS #SOBS #aaaaaaaaaaaa #on the floor #crying over the doodle i did of them as kids becuase the thought wouldnt leave my mind until i drew it #lord wind master #lady wind master #my beloved #i love you #missing them #they could have had it all #but swd really just had to do that #earth master #black water #black water sinking ships #im too lazy to actually draw clothes #idk if anyone else gets the sane vibes but he/him lesbian hx #that is my headcannoning for the night im sorry

[loverofthewindgod]

Sinful Indulgence

Warning: (18+) Starts off with wholesome fluffiness, ends with scrumptious smut

The God of Wind and the Ebony Beauty have a date night filled with lots & lots steamy passion.

Back at the WildWind household, Fujin had finished freshening up and was preparing for his dinner date with Sienna. He dressed himself in a black, shirt sleeve dress shirt, navy blue jeans and slightly groomed his short, silver hair back to look a bit more presentable. Nothing extravagant, nothing fancy, they just want to comfortably enjoy alone time together, yet Fujin worried a little that tonight wouldn't meet her expectations or they would have to reschedule again…..for the 7th time in a row. As he groomed his hair back, he rested his hand on the back of his neck, staring at his reflection with a deep sigh. "Heh..I wonder what she would think of me now, being so worrisome." 

"Could you be anymore adorable, you silly, silly wind god?"

Fujin softly chuckled to himself, feeling his cheek where she placed her loving touch. "Tonight will be enjoyable. Everything will be alright." He reassured himself before leaving the bedroom. In the kitchen, the food is finishing up in the oven as Fujin sets the table. Glancing at the window, he could see the outside weather getting cloudy. Rumbling thunder noises and trees shaking from the wind meant that a rainstorm might happen later on this evening. He then noticed somebody approaching the house. Narrowing his eyes for a better glimpse, an eager smile forms on Fujin's face as the figure approaches closer. "Is that..Sienna?" She appeared to be wearing a long black coat, burnt umber boots, her hair was in a bun with a rose on top, and a small red box was in her hands. They locked eyes and a playful smirk grew across Sienna's face. She snuck behind many trees, peering back and forth as if he didn't already notice her. Fujin happily laughs that his goofy beloved has arrived back home safe and sound and makes his way towards the door to greet his lovely lady. "Welcome home, stealth master." The wind god teases, placing a kiss on her hand. "What a gentleman, thank you. Oh! I got us dessert. It's just strawberries, some plain and some chocolate dipped. Pretty lazy and last minute." "It still sounds delicious nonetheless." Fujin goes to store the box away in the fridge for later as Sienna gets settled inside. "Ah, it feels so nice coming home to this." She felt content seeing the cozy living room with the fireplace gracing it's bright warmth around and soft background music playing, really setting the mood. "I'm really happy you like it. Dinner is just about ready,  would you care for a...glass of...w-wine?" 

As Fujin turned around, he couldn't believe the sight before his very eyes. Sienna unveiled her coat and there she stood in a short red and black dress, decorated with golden ribbons and roses across the bottom, and sexy black thigh high leggings. Everything fit perfectly, emphasizing her curvy, voluptuous figure. By the elder gods, he couldn't and didn't want to look away. His heart thumping wildly as his eyes devoured every inch, every curve, every gesture, every move that her physique makes. "The weather was getting crazy out there, I thought maybe you and Raiden had something to do with it heh. But yes babe, I would like a...glass. Uhh… Fujin? Babe? Hellooo?..." Sienna asked, finding the wind god frozen, mouth hung open, face crazily blushing, completely captivated and speechless. "Oh! Forgive me. I just...y-you..you just look so...Radiant. Divine. Appetizing." The Shaolin beauty blushed, giggling as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why, thank you, my lord. You look extremely dashing yourself. I wanted to wear this just for you, so I'm really glad you like it." The two chuckled as the oven's timer went off and it was time to feast. 

Fujin led Sienna to the table, pulled out her seat and poured her glass of wine before retrieving the food from the oven. The intoxicating aroma filled the air and filled Sienna with anticipation as Fujin brought it to the table. "Ooh! That looks scrum-diddly-umptious!" She excitedly clapped her hands as Fujin chuckled, slightly confused at the unusual word. He sat down beside her and they both raised their glasses for a toast. Sienna was the first to prepare her plate and as she took the first bite, she melted in her seat from how delicious it was. "It tastes amazing! Guess you're a full time protector, and part time chef. Why doesn't your sister kidnap you if you cook this good?" "I'm pleased you like it, and Safara feels that your food has more flavor and life in it. But she isn't wrong, your food is very scrum...scrum..what was that word again?" "Scrum-diddly-umptious?" Fujin lightly chuckled. "That's the one. I've never heard something that unusual before." You think that's unusual? You won't believe the stupidest thing I've ever said." "What would that be?" Fujin asked as he took a sip of his wine. "Well umm...I accidentally said that bbq sauce comes from chicken." The wind god nearly spat out his drink, looking at Sienna who bashfully admits that she has indeed said that, all while trying to contain his laughter but failed oh so badly, laughing his ass off. "Pfft hahaha, I never knew such animals existed." "Look it wasn't even my fault….okay yes it was but you see what had happened was, my brain somehow ended up in my stomach and my hungry ass thought of chicken, and what else goes good with chicken other than bbq sauce? Thus, that sentence was born." Fujin laughed even harder at Sienna's explanation while she sipped her wine in embarrassment, trying not to laugh herself. For some time, the two enjoyed their meal, chatting, laughing, exchanging soft touches and flirty remarks, truly a well-deserved evening. 

After their wonderful dinner, Fujin was doing the dishes and took numerous glances at the ebony beauty by the window, admiring the rainfall. "Do you enjoy watching the rain?" Fujin asked, warmly smiling. "Almost as much as you enjoy watching me." Sienna bashfully teased back before turning her attention to the song that was playing. "Ooh, I love this song!" Her eyes lit up as she turned up the volume and sang along. 

"🎵Come on get higher, loosen my lips. Faith and desire in the swing of your hips. Just pull me down hard, and drown me in love🎵"

Sienna was so immersed into the music, feeling the smooth, soft melody course through her veins. She began to undo her bun, letting her hair flow free as she moves and grooves like a leaf in the wind without a care in the world. Her movements became more seductive, her plump ass wobbling deliciously from swaying her slender hips, hands trailing across her strong luscious legs to slightly lift up her dress, revealing some skin. Flirtatious glares and gestures were made towards the wind god as if she was challenging him. With the fire's light beaming all around her, she appeared to be a sinful vixen sent from hell to tempt and lure him into her trap. To say Fujin was entranced would be an understatement. He was enthralled, intoxicated with such a view. The way her body language expressed her appetite for him, the same way he ravenously craved her as he made his way towards the dance floor. "May I have this dance, my lady?" The wind god smirks, bowing. "Why, I would be honored, my lord." Sienna teases back, wrapping her arms around Fujin's neck as he grabs hold of her waist and they begin dancing together. Twirling across the floor, exchanging smiles and giggles as they relish in each other's touch. "You look so passionate when you dance, my blaze." "Music is my escape. I feel joyful and free." Fujin softly smiled as he spun Sienna around and dipped her. "You never lose sight of who you are."  "Exactly." 

The music ends, silence filling the air as the tension grew much stronger with the two softly gazing at each other. Slowly, he brought her back up to face him, admiring every beautiful feature of her face, especially those full ebony painted lips he wanted to kiss so badly. Her touch, her smile, her presence, just everything about her has his senses running wild. He desperately wanted her, and he wanted her now. 

Fujin leaned down and pressed his lips on Sienna's for a soft, tender kiss. He could taste the sparks from brushing his tongue against hers. His hands rubbed up and down her waist, fingers dug into her hips, making her moan into the kiss. Sienna then parted for a brief moment, breathless. Her face all flushed, her body burning from the fiery sensation. She faced her wind lover's glowing pupils, just filled with an extremely, insatiable hunger for her. "I...I think dessert can wait." Sienna breathly chuckled. "Hmm...I do crave something far more delectable in red and I can't wait any longer." "Then stop waiting..." Sienna pulled Fujin back in for another kiss, their lips and tongues clashing vigorously, letting their lust and desire take over. Their hands wasted no time covering every inch of each other's bodies. Sienna's hands graced Fujin's huge buff arms, fingers tracing against his skin from his biceps down to his forearms. Her soft touches made him groan into the kiss, prompting him to rapidly discard his torso and reveal all of his bare chested glory. Greedily rubbing all over his rock hard abs and pectorals, one hand glided across his strong broad shoulders before diving into his silver hair. Fingers swimming through every strand, scratching his scalp. The other hand landed on his crotch, sensually massaging the massive bulge. "Mmm...mmm oh yes…" The wind god shivered, moaning in pure delight as he grinds against her palm before gently stopping her hand with a chuckle. "Allow me to cater to you, my love. Properly worship you as you so rightfully deserve." 

He laid Sienna flat against the wall, his lips leaving a wet trail from her jaw to her neck, licking and sucking her succulent flesh, while his hands discarded her dress and bra onto the floor to begin feasting. Kisses all over her chest, fondling her firm breasts with the nipples drenched in his mouth. He ventured further down to his knees, tracing her abdomen with his tongue, smothering her navel while gripping her hips. "So soft…" Fujin whispered, savoring every inch of this goddess' glorious temple. Sienna bit her lip, her back arched against the wall from the intense pleasure, hands frantically roaming around his face and into his hair to control herself until she felt lips on the front of her black thong. Her half-lidded eyes looked down to meet the wind god's lustful glare, smirking as he kissed her lower stomach and went even lower as he slowly removed her thong, gliding alongside her thighs and legs before facing her womanhood. His tongue lightly traced the lining of her lips, swirling around her throbbing clit, lapping over her core. His face burrowed even deeper, grabbing ahold of and fervently squeezing her ass as he eagerly munches away her moist, decadent pussy, slurping and savoring her sweet juices filling up his mouth. "Oooh yes...Mmm fuck Fujin…" Sienna moaned, hands tugged at his hair while her legs spread apart even further, impatiently grinding against his face, urging him to go faster. "Mmm...you taste so delicious my love. I desperately need to ravish you." Fujin's appetite was at an all time high. He could feel himself losing control the more he touched her, tasted her, heard her sweet pleas for more pleasure. "Ahhhh...yes, yes. Have all of me. Devour me whole, my lord." The wind god smirked, placing wet kisses on her inner thighs as he rose to pick up the ebony beauty by the underside of her thighs and made his way towards the bedroom. 

He gently laid her back on their shared comfy bed, exchanging a few kisses before propping himself on his knees with her legs lifted against his chest. Her leggings were slowly removed, unveiling her luscious legs, kissing her calves as he goes, spreading them apart to view his hidden treasure, her sacred center. Extremely soaked and just aching for him. His eyes never left as began to remove his jeans. The sounds of his belt unbuckled and his pants unzipped made Sienna squirm with anticipation, knowing what was awaiting her. Fujin was now fully stripped of his clothing, stroking his glorious cock leaking with pre-cum, groaning and biting his lip as he marveled at the sight before him. This remarkably, stunning, sinful Shaolin beauty laid out completely bare, immense desire in her eyes, bucking her hips like a smooth wave, pleading with him to accept her invitation. "By the elder gods, you are just so beautiful…" Fujin warmly smiled. He crawled towards his giggling, bashful goddess covering her face, comfortably nestling himself between her legs and gently parted her hands from her face. "Do not hide away from me, sweetheart. He softly chuckled as he tenderly kissed her lips and neck. He took his cock, rubbed the tip up and down her folds, the squelching sound of her slickness coating his head made the two groan in delight and he began to slowly insert himself inside. 

"Nngh...so big…" Sienna's breath hitched, her head arched back into the pillows, feeling her pussy getting stretched from his dick stuffing her inch after inch until it's completely sheathed inside. Loud moans filled the room as they held onto each other, shuddering from the delicious sensation of their bodies meshed into one. His thick, meaty cock buried deep inside her tight, wet heat, twitching and pulsating against her walls, just ready to ferociously pound her. "A-are you okay?" Sienna slightly opened her eyes to see Fujin trying to compose himself from the euphoric pleasure. "Mmm, y-yes my love. I only...only need but a moment. Being inside you feels so delightful, ooohh so heavenly. A devious smile grew across her face as she clenched her walls around his cock, causing him to jolt and muffle moans into her neck. The wind god faced the devious shaolin, shivering with faint eyes wondering what she just did to him, but he was unable to speak as she again tightened her hold on him, allowing him no time to adjust. The feeling was similar to the crown of time latching onto his head, but this...this felt so enticing. So yummy. So blissful the more she clenched…

"Aahh!" 

And clenched….

"Hnghh!" 

And clenched….

"S-sienna please…" 

And clenched, before he slammed his hips into hers, halting her actions. "FUCK!!" a loud moan escaped Sienna's throat, her fingers dug into his shoulders as she felt the sudden impact course through her body. "Fujin, please. Make love to me." She whimpered, shivering with excitement, craving more of him. Not one second wasted as Fujin held her by the wrists and began thrusting into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper and hit her sweet spot that made her scream in bliss. His hips moved faster and harder the more he heard her sweet cries of pleasure ringing in his ears. He relished in watching his goddess come undone, tossing and turning her head in the pillows, screaming praises for his movements. "Hhnghh...fuck you're so tight.." the wind god growled, releasing her from his grip and buried his face in the crook of her neck. His sexy moans right there beside her ear, arousing her even more, feeling her cunt squeeze his cock even tighter. Veins bulging from his arms from tightly gripping the bed sheets, beads of sweat dripping down their skin, loudly clapping against each other, feeling that delicious release bubbling and ready to explode. 

Fujin then halted his movements, much to Sienna's brief moment of disappointment only to find herself lifted above him, her legs still embracing his waist as he balances on his knees in a Lotus position. "Cum with me this way." The sweaty god smirked. "You're such a dork." Sienna scoffed, locking their lips as Fujin continued his movements, tightly gripping her ass to hold her steady as he thrusts even deeper, hitting her cervix. Sienna buried her face in his neck, gnawing at his shoulder, her nails raking across his back losing her mind as she felt the thread of her release just ready to snap. Her hips went rouge, mercilessly bouncing on his cock with so much force, so much need. Fujin growled even louder, feeling her pussy tighten around him so deliciously as she rides him, marking her territory. He moves his hand to her front, rapidly rubbing her clit, hearing her loud squeals and moans ripping from her throat. All control was lost and ecstasy overflowed throughout their bodies. "F-Fujin...I'm g-gonna cum…" "yess...cum for me baby…" with that, the thread snapped, and screams covered the entire room. Sienna arched her back, screaming to the roof, riding out her orgasm as her juices sprayed everywhere. Fujin buried his face in her chest, spilling his hot, white seed inside her, bucking his hips a couple of times to get out every last drop before they plopped back down together, panting. "Wow, that was amazing. You seemed to have really indulged yourself, my lord." Sienna breathly chuckled. "I could say the same for my lovely goddess." Fujin teased back. "And I must say, that sudden trick you did was...really enjoyable." "What trick do you speak of?" "The one where you- Hhngh!" Fujin trembled as her walls clenched around his cock, feeling it swell and twitch inside. He grabbed her by the wrists, facing her adorably, mischievous grin. "You are one devious vixen…" he softly chuckled, kissing her lips as they begin making love again. They're in for a looong night, with a chocolatey breakfast to look forward to in the morning.

Safara belongs to @ninibear3000 ^_^

#mk11 #mortalkombat #mk oc #sienna #mk11 fujin #lord fujin #fujin smut #wildwind smut #such delicousness #fujin is seriously a lucky ass wind god #safara is quite the culinary expert #imagine a wildwind cooking contest #with Safara as the judge #boom new story idea

[recentanimenews]

Yen Press Announces New Manga and Light Novels for November 2021

North American publisher Yen Press has big plans for later this year, with nine new releases revealed for November (and one for October). Among the latest licenses are six manga—including Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Wraith Arc—and four light novels, so dig into the details below.

  MANGA

  The Hero Laughs While Walking the Path of Vengeance a Second Time Story by Kizuka Nero Art by Yamo Yomoya (This one is listed for October)

    Kaito has been summoned into another world as a hero, and though all goes well for a time, one day, his entire party betrays and mercilessly kills him. So when he suddenly gets a chance to redo his life, starting from the point he was first summoned to this world, he swears to exact vengeance on everyone who stabbed him in the back...

  The Hero Laughs While Walking the Path of Vengeance a Second Time is a dark isekai tale based on a Yen On light novel scheduled for an October 2021 release. Fans of dark fantasy manga are sure to enjoy this upcoming release that does an amazing job adapting the highly-anticipated light novel.

  Let This Grieving Soul Retire  Story by Tsukikage Art by Rai Hebino Character Designs by Chiko  

  This man—is he an extraordinary hero or an ordinary person?

  "What I'm seeking is to be the world's one and only strongest hero."

  Cry had made an oath together with his childhood friends to become the strongest hero, but he realized right after that he has no talent.

  Nevertheless, for some reason, the expectations of those around him keep rising rapidly every day. And (at least according to Cry), things will always head in an outrageous direction!?

  Let This Grieving Soul Retire is a manga adaptation of the fantasy light novel series by Tsukikage, the creator of Defeating the Demon Lord’s a Cinch (If You’ve Got a Ringer) and The King of the Dead at the Dark Palace by Yen On. This comedic adventure about a reluctant hero appeals to fans of the recently released Hazure Skill: The Guild Member with a Worthless Skill Is Actually a Legendary Assassin.

  Namaiki Zakari

Story and art by Miyuki Mitsubachi

    Basketball club manager Yuki has a secret—she’s in love with the team captain! But when Naruse, her cheeky kouhai, discovers her big secret, she’s in a tight spot! Just how long is he going to keep teasing her about it!? Stupid pretty playboy…

  Namaiki Zakari is a gorgeous romantic comedy shojo filled with charming boys and love triangles. With a story filled with adorable romance and school-life elements, much of which revolves around the events of the characters’ basketball team, Namaiki Zakari will surely be shojo fans’ next favorite series!

  I’ve Been an Omega Since Today

Story & Art by Maiki Sachi

    It all starts with your typical childhood friend love story—average Kanade pining after his dandy best friend, Munechika. There’s just one big problem with their high school romance—Kanade’s a Beta and Munechika’s an Alpha! And everyone knows that Alpha/Beta pairing just aren’t compatible…on a physical level. But when Kanade goes into heat as an Omega for the first time, will Munechika be there to give him a helping hand?

  Fans of boys love rejoice! Following hot new releases, such as Sasaki and Miyano and I Cannot Reach You, Yen Press is releasing I’ve Been an Omega Since Today. This standalone title is filled with beautiful artwork and omegaverse elements—truly irresistible to the growing boys love fanbase!

  The Splendid Work of a Monster Maid

Story and Art by Yugata Tanabe

    Sumire, a “nekomata” phantom, has lost her beloved master. After wandering alone, she stumbles into…a foreign demon world!? Now Sumire serves under the president of a company, alongside an undead named Rose and an android named Ivy. In order to get back that “certain someone,” Sumire’s splendid work begins!

  The Splendid Work of a Monster Maid is a fantasy slice-of-life manga surrounding the events of maids in the demon world. With art and story that are both beautiful and very unique, this series is reminiscent of the likes of Black Butler and Kaori Mori’s Emma.

  Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Wraith Arc

Story by Magica Quartet

Art by Hanokage

    All the witches in the universe, past and future, may have disappeared, but in their place, emotion-eating “wraiths” prey on humanity. The magical girls fight to protect Mitakihara City once more…

  Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Wraith Arc is a spin-off of the iconic manga and anime property, one which takes place between the events of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie: Rebellion, with much of the story told through the perspective of fan-favorite Homura Akemi. This series debut follows the recent omnibus release of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The Different Story.

  LIGHT NOVELS

  Magical☆Explorer

Story by Iris

Illustrations by Noboru Kannataki

    Reincarnated as a character in the legendary eroge title “Magical☆Explorer,” our hero ends up as an unlucky side-character instead of the game’s lady-killer protagonist. Not to worry, though! Armed with his deep knowledge of the game (not to mention a few cheat codes), he’ll do whatever it takes to win the hearts of the game’s heroines and emerge as the most accomplished student at the Sorcerer's Academy. 

  Magical☆Explorer is an isekai light novel series that involves a protagonist using his expertise of visual novels to dominate the world when reincarnated within the game. Fantasy isekai and romantic comedies are among the most popular genres in the world of light novels, making Magical☆Explorer a series that will appeal to a wide range of readers.

  Cross-Dressing Villainess Cecilia Sylvie

Story by Hiroro Akizakura

Illustrations by Dangmill

    Reincarnated as a villainess in an Otome game, Cecilia realizes that as the heroine’s rival, she’ll die no matter what route she takes. Convinced that she can avoid her death flag by becoming a man, she crossdresses and takes on a new identity. In the process, however, she ends up replacing her brother-in-law as the knight charged with protecting the heroine! Now the prince who should be condemning her to death wants to hang around her all the time...?! Cecilia will do whatever it takes to achieve a peaceful and carefree life, but if her guise ever slips, it’s Game Over! 

  Cross-Dressing Villainess Cecilia Sylvie takes the isekai concept of being reincarnated in the world of an otome game and turns it on its head! In order to save her life, our protagonist masquerades as a man—a choice which leads to a whole lot of chaos in this fun-filled light novel series!

  The Girl I Saved on the Train Turned Out to Be My Childhood Friend

Story by Kennoji

Illustration by Fly

    While on his way to school one morning, high school second-year Takamori Ryo saves his childhood friend Fushimi Hina from a sexual harasser on a crowded train. Although the two are practically opposites in appearance and popularity, not to mention the fact they haven't spoken since middle school, Hina finds herself smitten with the oblivious Ryo. A frustratingly sweet, zero-stress romantic comedy!

  The Girl I Saved on the Train Turned Out to Be My Childhood Friend is a sweet slice-of-life light novel that tells the story of love interests who reconnect in high school after years of separation from their middle school days. This rising star in the light novel world is written by Kennoji, the author of Hazure Skill: The Guild Member with a Worthless Skill Is Actually a Legendary Assassin, and illustrated by Fly, the artist of Bottom-tier Character Tomozaki.

  Rust-Eater Bisco

Story by Shinji Cobkubo

Illustrations by K Akagashi and mocha

    In the far future, a disaster known as the “Rusty Wind” has transformed the majority of Japan into a barren desert and left civilization in tatters. After his teacher falls prey to the rust, the roguish Bisco Akahoshi embarks on journey through the sandy wastes to obtain a mushroom known only as the Rust Eater, rumored to cure the ailment. Together with the dashing young doctor Milo, the pair will have to contend with the unforgiving environment and their fellow wanderers in order to make it back alive.

  Rust-Eater Bisco is a compelling, post-apocalyptic light novel series with excellent world building complemented by amazing illustrations. An anime adaptation of this award-winning series was recently announced for future release.

  Source: Press release

    -------

Joseph Luster is the Games and Web editor at Otaku USA Magazine. You can read his comics at subhumanzoids. Follow him on Twitter @Moldilox.

By: Joseph Luster

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[literarypilgrim]

Read Like a Gilmore

All 339 Books Referenced In “Gilmore Girls” 

Not my original list, but thought it’d be fun to go through and see which one’s I’ve actually read :P If it’s in bold, I’ve got it, and if it’s struck through, I’ve read it. I’ve put a ‘read more’ because it ended up being an insanely long post, and I’m now very sad at how many of these I haven’t read. (I’ve spaced them into groups of ten to make it easier to read)

1. 1984 by George Orwell  2. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain 3. Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll 4. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon 5. An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser 6. Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt 7. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy 8. The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank 9. The Archidamian War by Donald Kagan 10. The Art of Fiction by Henry James 

11. The Art of War by Sun Tzu 12. As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner 13. Atonement by Ian McEwan 14. Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy 15. The Awakening by Kate Chopin 16. Babe by Dick King-Smith 17. Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women by Susan Faludi 18. Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie 19. Bel Canto by Ann Patchett 20. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath 21. Beloved by Toni Morrison 22. Beowulf: A New Verse Translation by Seamus Heaney 23. The Bhagava Gita 24. The Bielski Brothers: The True Story of Three Men Who Defied the Nazis, Built a Village in the Forest, and Saved 1,200 Jews by Peter Duffy 25. Bitch in Praise of Difficult Women by Elizabeth Wurtzel 26. A Bolt from the Blue and Other Essays by Mary McCarthy 27. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley 28. Brick Lane by Monica Ali 29. Bridgadoon by Alan Jay Lerner 30. Candide by Voltaire 31. The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer 32. Carrie by Stephen King 33. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller 34. The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger 35. Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White 36. The Children’s Hour by Lillian Hellman 37. Christine by Stephen King 38. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 39. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess 40. The Code of the Woosters by P.G. Wodehouse    41. The Collected Stories by Eudora Welty 42. A Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare 43. Complete Novels by Dawn Powell 44. The Complete Poems by Anne Sexton 45. Complete Stories by Dorothy Parker 46. A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole 47. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas 48. Cousin Bette by Honore de Balzac 49. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky 50. The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber    51. The Crucible by Arthur Miller 52. Cujo by Stephen King 53. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon 54. Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende 55. David and Lisa by Dr Theodore Issac Rubin M.D 56. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens 57. The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown 58. Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol 59. Demons by Fyodor Dostoyevsky 60. Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller 61. Deenie by Judy Blume 62. The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America by Erik Larson 63. The Dirt: Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band by Tommy Lee, Vince Neil, Mick Mars and Nikki Sixx 64. The Divine Comedy by Dante 65. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells 66. Don Quixote by Cervantes 67. Driving Miss Daisy by Alfred Uhrv 68. Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson 69. Edgar Allan Poe: Complete Tales & Poems by Edgar Allan Poe 70. Eleanor Roosevelt by Blanche Wiesen Cook 71. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe 72. Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters by Mark Dunn  73. Eloise by Kay Thompson 74. Emily the Strange by Roger Reger 75. Emma by Jane Austen 76. Empire Falls by Richard Russo 77. Encyclopedia Brown: Boy Detective by Donald J. Sobol 78. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton 79. Ethics by Spinoza 80. Europe through the Back Door, 2003 by Rick Steves

81. Eva Luna by Isabel Allende 82. Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer 83. Extravagance by Gary Krist 84. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury 85. Fahrenheit 9/11 by Michael Moore 86. The Fall of the Athenian Empire by Donald Kagan 87. Fat Land: How Americans Became the Fattest People in the World by Greg Critser 88. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson 89. The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien 90. Fiddler on the Roof by Joseph Stein 91. The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom 92. Finnegan’s Wake by James Joyce 93. Fletch by Gregory McDonald 94. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes 95. The Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem 96. The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand 97. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley 98. Franny and Zooey by J. D. Salinger 99. Freaky Friday by Mary Rodgers 100. Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut 101. Gender Trouble by Judith Butler 102. George W. Bushism: The Slate Book of the Accidental Wit and Wisdom of our 43rd President by Jacob Weisberg 103. Gidget by Fredrick Kohner 104. Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen 105. The Gnostic Gospels by Elaine Pagels 106. The Godfather: Book 1 by Mario Puzo 107. The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy  108. Goldilocks and the Three Bears by Alvin Granowsky  109. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell  110. The Good Soldier by Ford Maddox Ford 

111. The Gospel According to Judy Bloom 112. The Graduate by Charles Webb 113. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck 114. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald 115. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens 116. The Group by Mary McCarthy 117. Hamlet by William Shakespeare 118. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling 119. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling 120. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers    121. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad 122. Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry 123. Henry IV, part I by William Shakespeare 124. Henry IV, part II by William Shakespeare 125. Henry V by William Shakespeare 126. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby 127. The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon 128. Holidays on Ice: Stories by David Sedaris 129. The Holy Barbarians by Lawrence Lipton 130. House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III    131. The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende 132. How to Breathe Underwater by Julie Orringer 133. How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss  134. How the Light Gets In by M. J. Hyland  135. Howl by Allen Ginsberg  136. The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo  137. The Iliad by Homer 138. I’m With the Band by Pamela des Barres  139. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote  140. Inferno by Dante 

141. Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee 142. Iron Weed by William J. Kennedy 143. It Takes a Village by Hillary Rodham Clinton 144. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte 145. The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan 146. Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare 147. The Jumping Frog by Mark Twain 148. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair 149. Just a Couple of Days by Tony Vigorito 150. The Kitchen Boy: A Novel of the Last Tsar by Robert Alexander 151. Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by Anthony Bourdain 152. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini 153. Lady Chatterleys’ Lover by D. H. Lawrence 154. The Last Empire: Essays 1992-2000 by Gore Vidal 155. Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman 156. The Legend of Bagger Vance by Steven Pressfield 157. Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis 158. Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke 159. Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them by Al Franken  160. Life of Pi by Yann Martel 

161. Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens 162. The Little Locksmith by Katharine Butler Hathaway 163. The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen 164. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott 165. Living History by Hillary Rodham Clinton 166. Lord of the Flies by William Golding 167. The Lottery: And Other Stories by Shirley Jackson 168. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold 169. The Love Story by Erich Segal 170. Macbeth by William Shakespeare 171. Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert 172. The Manticore by Robertson Davies 173. Marathon Man by William Goldman 174. The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov 175. Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter by Simone de Beauvoir 176. Memoirs of General W. T. Sherman by William Tecumseh Sherman 177. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris 178. The Meaning of Consuelo by Judith Ortiz Cofer 179. Mencken’s Chrestomathy by H. R. Mencken 180. The Merry Wives of Windsor by William Shakespeare 181. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka 182. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides 183. The Miracle Worker by William Gibson 184. Moby Dick by Herman Melville 185. The Mojo Collection: The Ultimate Music Companion by Jim Irvin  186. Moliere: A Biography by Hobart Chatfield Taylor  187. A Monetary History of the United States by Milton Friedman  188. Monsieur Proust by Celeste Albaret  189. A Month Of Sundays: Searching For The Spirit And My Sister by Julie Mars 190. A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway 

191. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf 192. Mutiny on the Bounty by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall 193. My Lai 4: A Report on the Massacre and It’s Aftermath by Seymour M. Hersh 194. My Life as Author and Editor by H. R. Mencken 195. My Life in Orange: Growing Up with the Guru by Tim Guest 196. Myra Waldo’s Travel and Motoring Guide to Europe, 1978 by Myra Waldo 197. My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult 198. The Naked and the Dead by Norman Mailer 199. The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco 200. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri 201. The Nanny Diaries by Emma McLaughlin 202. Nervous System: Or, Losing My Mind in Literature by Jan Lars Jensen 203. New Poems of Emily Dickinson by Emily Dickinson 204. The New Way Things Work by David Macaulay 205. Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich 206. Night by Elie Wiesel 207. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen 208. The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism by William E. Cain, Laurie A. Finke, Barbara E. Johnson, John P. McGowan 209. Novels 1930-1942: Dance Night/Come Back to Sorrento, Turn, Magic Wheel/Angels on Toast/A Time to be Born by Dawn Powell 210. Notes of a Dirty Old Man by Charles Bukowski

211. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck (will NEVER read again) 212. Old School by Tobias Wolff 213. On the Road by Jack Kerouac 214. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey 215. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez 216. The Opposite of Fate: Memories of a Writing Life by Amy Tan 217. Oracle Night by Paul Auster 218. Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood 219. Othello by Shakespeare 220. Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens 221. The Outbreak of the Peloponnesian War by Donald Kagan 222. Out of Africa by Isac Dineson 223. The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton 224. A Passage to India by E.M. Forster 225. The Peace of Nicias and the Sicilian Expedition by Donald Kagan 226. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky 227. Peyton Place by Grace Metalious 228. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde 229. Pigs at the Trough by Arianna Huffington 230. Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi 231. Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain 232. The Polysyllabic Spree by Nick Hornby 233. The Portable Dorothy Parker by Dorothy Parker 234. The Portable Nietzche by Fredrich Nietzche 235. The Price of Loyalty: George W. Bush, the White House, and the Education of Paul O’Neill by Ron Suskind 236. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen 237. Property by Valerie Martin 238. Pushkin: A Biography by T. J. Binyon  239. Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw  240. Quattrocento by James Mckean 

241. A Quiet Storm by Rachel Howzell Hall 242. Rapunzel by Grimm Brothers 243. The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe 244. The Razor’s Edge by W. Somerset Maugham 245. Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi 246. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier 247. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm by Kate Douglas Wiggin 248. The Red Tent by Anita Diamant 249. Rescuing Patty Hearst: Memories From a Decade Gone Mad by Virginia Holman 250. The Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien 251. R Is for Ricochet by Sue Grafton 252. Rita Hayworth by Stephen King 253. Robert’s Rules of Order by Henry Robert 254. Roman Holiday by Edith Wharton 255. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare 256. A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf 257. A Room with a View by E. M. Forster 258. Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin 259. The Rough Guide to Europe, 2003 Edition 260. Sacred Time by Ursula Hegi 261. Sanctuary by William Faulkner 262. Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay by Nancy Milford 263. Say Goodbye to Daisy Miller by Henry James 264. The Scarecrow of Oz by Frank L. Baum 265. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne  266. Seabiscuit: An American Legend by Laura Hillenbrand  267. The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir  268. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd  269. Secrets of the Flesh: A Life of Colette by Judith Thurman  270. Selected Hotels of Europe 

271. Selected Letters of Dawn Powell: 1913-1965 by Dawn Powell 272. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen 273. A Separate Peace by John Knowles 274. Several Biographies of Winston Churchill 275. Sexus by Henry Miller 276. The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon 277. Shane by Jack Shaefer 278. The Shining by Stephen King 279. Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse 280. S Is for Silence by Sue Grafton 281. Slaughter-house Five by Kurt Vonnegut 282. Small Island by Andrea Levy 283. Snows of Kilimanjaro by Ernest Hemingway 284. Snow White and Rose Red by Grimm Brothers 285. Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy: Lord and Peasant in the Making of the Modern World by Barrington Moore 286. The Song of Names by Norman Lebrecht 287. Song of the Simple Truth: The Complete Poems of Julia de Burgos by Julia de Burgos 288. The Song Reader by Lisa Tucker 289. Songbook by Nick Hornby 290. The Sonnets by William Shakespeare 291. Sonnets from the Portuegese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning 292. Sophie’s Choice by William Styron  293. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner  294. Speak, Memory by Vladimir Nabokov 295. Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach  296. The Story of My Life by Helen Keller  297. A Streetcar Named Desiree by Tennessee Williams  298. Stuart Little by E. B. White  299. Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway  300. Swann’s Way by Marcel Proust 

301. Swimming with Giants: My Encounters with Whales, Dolphins and Seals by Anne Collett 302. Sybil by Flora Rheta Schreiber 303. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens 304. Tender Is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald 305. Term of Endearment by Larry McMurtry 306. Time and Again by Jack Finney 307. The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger 308. To Have and Have Not by Ernest Hemingway 309. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee 310. The Tragedy of Richard III by William Shakespeare    311. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith 312. The Trial by Franz Kafka 313. The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters by Elisabeth Robinson 314. Truth & Beauty: A Friendship by Ann Patchett 315. Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom 316. Ulysses by James Joyce 317. The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath 1950-1962 by Sylvia Plath 318. Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe 319. Unless by Carol Shields  320. Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann 

321. The Vanishing Newspaper by Philip Meyers 322. Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray 323. Velvet Underground’s The Velvet Underground and Nico (Thirty Three and a Third series) by Joe Harvard 324. The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides 325. Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett 326. Walden by Henry David Thoreau 327. Walt Disney’s Bambi by Felix Salten 328. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy 329. We Owe You Nothing – Punk Planet: The Collected Interviews edited by Daniel Sinker 330. What Colour is Your Parachute? 2005 by Richard Nelson Bolles 331. What Happened to Baby Jane by Henry Farrell 332. When the Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka 333. Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson 334. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee 335. Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire 336. The Wizard of Oz by Frank L. Baum 337. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte 338. The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings 339. The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

#books in Gilmore Girls #reading list #booklr #have you read?

[zargsnake]

Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 8: Priorities

Word Count: 2565 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

*   *   *

Anakin hears the cheers for Obi-Wan turn sour, and he soon figures out why. It is no fault of his master's, who fights beautifully -- but there is a transparent dome-shield around the arena, and whenever someone in the angry, heavily-armed audience shoots at it, ripples of white electric shocks cross the dome and obscure the fight. Anakin is relieved that the audience is booing each other, not his master, though he worries that Obi-Wan will think they're booing at him.

Obi-Wan looks over his shoulder, trying to locate Anakin in the audience, and a blade suddenly whizzes by his neck. His reflexes protect him and he jerks out of the way, but a moment later he feels hot blood on his skin. He hadn't moved quickly enough -- the blade cut him sharp and swift. It hurts a lot more than he expected. It could have easily killed him.

He was so focused on finding Anakin in this crowd that he forgot Anakin's own words to him, his warnings about this opponent. Obi-Wan hadn't taken Anakin seriously about Tiango. Of course it was sad about Anakin’s “cool” gladiator friend, but Obi-Wan defeated a Sith lord not long ago. The experience buoyed his confidence to a fault. This Tiango -- not a Sith, not even a professional, just an ex-science experiment, just a Yooro -- landed a blow on him -- a pretty good one, too.

Obi-Wan rapidly teaches himself a lesson. Connecting with Anakin doesn't mean knowing exactly where he is. It means listening to him. Believing him. That's what teachers do. It's what friends do.

This isn't the Outer Rim, but these people are. This is Anakin's haunt. Obi-Wan will train it out of him, will make him a man of the Core. But for now, Anakin is the expert here, and his words must be Obi-Wan's textbook.

With his heart opened wide for Anakin, and his guard up because of Anakin's warning, Obi-Wan realizes he will have to hunker down in defense for a while. Tiango's assault is brutal and inhumanly quick, though Obi-Wan remembers that Yoroos do get exhausted -- eventually. What Obi-Wan lacks in comparative strength, he makes up for in endurance -- patience and energy, the long game, care -- these are Obi-Wan's secret weapons.

Anakin watches Obi-Wan deflect the same moves that once ruthlessly whittled down Crix Spartak, the gladiator who he had loved. The memory of that death match sends chills up his spine. He is certain that some of these blows must hit his master. Part of him is certain that Obi-Wan is doomed, too. Anakin had believed Crix would win, and he had been wrong. It is asking too much to have hope again, against the same, utterly evil man.

Though Obi-Wan has great endurance, his vibroblade does not. Out of habit, he treats it as roughly as if it were a laser weapon, depending on it for deflection, as a shield. Tiango's barrage strikes the metal and bends it back and forth into a zigzag, then into a knot. Obi-Wan is slowly disarmed as his blade becomes less and less tenable as a weapon. He has no choice; he has no other shield. The biggest bother is his own hand: the damn vibroblade is aptly named -- it quivers like a leaf in the wind, wearing out his wrist and weakening his fingers.

The crowd cheers enthusiastically for the graceful Jedi, chanting, "Kenobi! Kenobi!" Anakin does not join in. Obi-Wan could almost be dancing with his expert moves, but Anakin is not in the mood to learn from him. He gazes in hopeless terror at the duel. He watches bullets, lasers and slingshotted electrostones bounce off the dome, as well as gifts, toys and even people’s underwear. All such wild debris from this crazed crowd trying to reach out to their beloved or hated athlete, his poor, wonderful master.

The fastest or biggest bullets send fuzzy waves across the dome, but the dome quickly repairs itself. Anakin follows the arc of the dome, calculating the sources of its projection points from subtle distortions in the waves.

He moves the layers of fur in his stolen disguise to peek at the recharging screen on his hidden acid-blaster: 52%. No other weapons are making a dent in the dome. But no other weapons are quite like this one, and no one else seems to have figured out where to shoot. Could he crack the dome? What would he do then?

Anakin looks away from Obi-Wan for a second and scans his narrowed eyes over the happy rabble. He does not understand them. Are they seeing what he's seeing? They all shout and cheer, laughing and clapping, as if Obi-Wan is triumphant, as if he is playing. He looks back at his master. He sees that Obi-Wan is in great pain. Dying, even. How can the information from his senses, and the conclusions from his feelings, be so different from everyone else's?

Is he connecting, mentally, to his master -- using his supposed Jedi powers to see things for how they truly are? Is he seeing the truth, better than they are, because he is a Jedi, a Jedi Padawan? Is the Force giving him a special message -- because he, unlike the rabble, is a Jedi -- because he, unlike everyone, is the answer to a prophecy -- because he is closer to Obi-Wan than anyone else is?

Or ... is he, Anakin, wrong? Is everyone else right? Is his sight blinded by irrational fear, brought about by his utter dependence on this man? Did Obi-Wan really stumble, just now? No one else seems to have seen it.

Is he, Anakin, perhaps, confusing the past for the present? Crix for Obi-Wan? Death for life?

Is it all in his head? Or is it real?

   *   *   *

Below the arena, Zlinky has memorized the map from the computer. With Jane, she trespasses through the employee quarters. They reach a large, important-looking office which Zlinky guesses is Knightkiller's.

She hears voices inside and shouts at the door, “Hey boss! There's fried fluunies in Rec Room 3!”

She backs off as the door opens and two people exit. Zlinky creeps inside and Jane blusters along behind her. Too soon, they hear the people coming back and Zlinky shoves Jane under the slick metallic desk; the robot is so big that two of the desk legs lift a few inches from the ground. There isn't much room left for Zlinky; she has to nestle right up against Jane's bazooka. A belt of detonators falls across Zlinky's lap.

She peeks over the edge of the desk and sees the people more closely. They look more decorated than the other guards, with sashes and medals, as if there was some kind of made-up military ranking among Knightkiller's cronies, a worthless army dedicated solely to this evil entertainment. 

“These fluunies are great,” says one crony.

“I’ve had better,” says the other.

The hidden Padawan hears the gross sounds of chewing, and then the rather more alarming sound of Jane powering up her neutralizers. Zlinky quiets her and gestures for her to stop. Stealth has worked so far; it would be best to avoid violence, especially since these two seem important.

“I can't wait to run the missing Jedi kids through with this,” says the first one, as he ignites a lightsaber.

Zlinky stops gesturing, but Jane has already powered down.

“The Jedi kids must still be on the ship. No one's been allowed to leave and no shuttle pods have activated.”

“You think Jedi could survive in space?”

“No. Only the boss can do that. You saw them in those Coruscanti space suits, idiot.”

“Oh right.”

The second crony ignites another lightsaber. Even without looking, Zlinky recognizes the sound as her own. She feels something very powerful and uncomfortable. Taken aback, she identifies it as jealousy, one of the very worst emotions. Afraid of her own feelings, she is frozen, unable to act, unable to know if she is behaving rationally, according to the light side, or irrationally, which will lead her off the narrow path into darkness.

“They're real nice suits. I called dibs on the man-size one for me and the little one for my daughter.”

“Yeah...the gigantic one and the lady-size one are pretty useless.”

“I'll take the lady one for my kid to grow into.”

Zlinky thinks, I'm twelve! I’m not a lady! Though I am much taller than Anakin. So they say Anakin is missing, too? That means he's not dead! If only I was strong enough to detect his presence!

Jane pokes Zlinky and gestures to her blasters. Zlinky shakes her head.

We can't kill him! He's a dad!

They hear the two men walking closer and closer. One of them accidentally hits something with the lightsaber; the girls hear them cursing and smell melting plastic.

Zlinky feels time running out. This hiding spot is bad. She ran in here without a plan. She knows her decision-making is impeded by fear, jealousy, and access to a murder-droid, but she must decide something.

Zlinky quickly examines the settings on Jane's weapons. All these numbers and charts are too confusing to parse right now. She dials one dial back, but it only causes some numbers to rise and others to fall. She puts it back where it was, though the numbers are still not the same. The last time Jane shot someone, it wasn't fatal. At least not immediately.

The girl feels tears pressuring her eyes and throat. She doesn't want to hurt anyone. She has learned through stories and lessons that the darkness within is far worse than the darkness without. She is more frightened of doing wrong than she is of dying. There is no death. But there is evil.

She can't get out of her head a discussion she overheard from some of the older Padawans. This group of twenty- and thirty-somethings is the pride of the whole Temple. Everyone adores them -- the strongest, most beautiful, best students in school. Once they are knighted, then they leave the young people’s social circle to rub shoulders with the teachers, and have no time for their old friends -- but before they are knighted, they rule the school from the inside, and everyone lets them get away with a little more fun than knights are allowed. In those last years of Padawanship, they are the most free a Jedi can be.

Just last month, when Zlinky fetched the group snacks from the mess hall in order to bask in their presence, she found them in a very strange state. When one of them returns from a mission, the others crowd around to hear the stories and see the new scars. The latest conquering hero, a human named Sara Chid-wun, did not have a physical scar. But she had such an aura of bitterness around her that the whole group was affected, including the young interloper Zlinky.

Sara explained how she and her Master Kayji were caught in various difficult situations, and each time Kayji had neglected to act, so each time Sara had been forced to act herself, often with violence. It felt like a test that she continuously failed. And yet, ultimately, they succeeded in their mission. Sara claimed that Kayji would not address her concerns with anything beyond platitudes.

The whole experience led Sara to, hesitantly, conclude that Masters often take advantage of their students. Masters refuse to move, and claim they are trusting in the Force, or allowing evil to collapse in on itself, or some such excuse, while in reality they are leaving the sensible but nasty work to the impure, young Padawan tagging along.

The group discussed each example, and more from their own adventures, each trying to explain away their masters’ -- sometimes -- confusing actions, each unwilling to support Sara’s conclusion -- including, of course, Sara herself. But the group found that, if they were being honest, she might be right. Sometimes. So they had moved on to finding the moral lesson in this seemingly cruel behavior -- something about knightly violence being worse than non-knightly violence, something about power and purity.

And maybe they came to a satisfying explanation among themselves; Sara herself seemed as cheerful as normal the next time Zlinky saw her. But Zlinky hadn't felt comfortable sitting in on their important big-kid conversation any longer, so she had left at the darkest part of it.

Tila has never forced Zlinky's hand before. Zlinky has never had to kill anyone before. But now the master is indeed the one sitting out, while the student is the one doing the work.

Is it okay to stray off the path when you are only a Padawan? Is it, in fact, expected, and necessary? Must she walk in the gray area beside the light, until she is a master herself, and can savor the light all the time, and never have to do any more wrong? When she is knighted, then she can delegate that dark stuff to someone else, someone young and obedient?

The thought occurs to Zlinky that she is not the one who would do the killing -- that would be Jane. But she knows that is a flaky excuse. Jane is her responsibility. Just as she is Tila's. The blood is on all their hands.

Zlinky turns to Jane and nods. Jane immediately stands up and neutralizes the guards. Zlinky pokes her head over the desk, sees the smoking bodies, and fears the worst.

“Are they dead?”

“ɪ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ ɪᴛ. ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴄᴀᴘᴀᴄɪᴛʏ.“

“I'm pretty sure your full capacity is overkill.”

She tiptoes over to the guard's bodies. One seems to be breathing. The other, she can't tell.

She can't alert anyone to the danger, and she doesn't trust the medical facilities here anyway. But she has nothing to give them, to help them. She puts her hand on the soft, sandy hair of the one whose life is unclear to her, the one who has a little daughter.

“May the Force be with you.”

Her voice is a shaky whisper, but she's never meant those words so much as she means them now.

Please, please, live.

She pulls the lightsaber from his hand and turns it off, and does the same with the other guard. She finds three more lightsabers on their belts. She recognizes hers and her master’s; two of them must be Anakin’s and his master’s; the last one could be Glagret’s, a.k.a. Knightkiller’s. It's green, and of the same old fashion as her master’s. She is surprised and glad that it isn't red. But maybe Knightkiller carries her red one on her person. Or maybe, just maybe, the Sith are not at all involved. She prays that they aren't.

Zlinky and Jane hide the bodies behind the desk and lock the door behind them. Zlinky turns away from the door and does not look back.

They were gonna kill me. They still will kill me, if they figure it out. I have to act in self-defense. And I have to save the other three Jedi. These people may be people, but they are low-lives, murderers, and lawbreakers. It wasn't my choice that they got in my way.

Chapter 9: Crix Spartak

#my story #my art #star wars #knightkiller: anakin and obi-wan's first adventure #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #chahlee tiango #zlinkgwal zalt #jane #scifi #adventure #drama

[fictionadventurer]

Father Brown Reread: The Absence of Mr. Glass

The consulting-rooms of Dr Orion Hood, the eminent criminologist and specialist in certain moral disorders, lay along the sea-front at Scarborough, in a series of very large and well-lighted french windows, which showed the North Sea like one endless outer wall of blue-green marble.

I like how the first and second collections both start with a story focusing on a professional detective who’s not Father Brown.

True to form, we’ve got a color word in the first sentence. And not only that--a hypenated color word! You don’t get much more Chesterton than that.

Everything about him and his room indicated something at once rigid and restless, like that great northern sea by which (on pure principles of hygiene) he had built his home. Fate, being in a funny mood, pushed the door open and introduced into those long, strict, sea-flanked apartments one who was perhaps the most startling opposite of them and their master.

Highlighting this because “Fate, being in a funny mood” is a great phrase.

But also because I love when the stories contrast Father Brown’s clumsy, homely shabbiness with characters who look more distinguished and accomplished.

"My name is Brown. Pray excuse me. I've come about that business of the MacNabs. I have heard, you often help people out of such troubles. Pray excuse me if I am wrong."

It’s odd that Father Brown is consulting another detective on this. He doesn’t seem the sort to seek out other help. He usually just winds up on the scene of the crime by accident.

It seems like he should have the confidence to solve the mystery himself.

It seems like the more natural way to bring Hood into the story would be to have the girl approach Dr. Hood and Father Brown just to be at the house for priest reasons before figuring out the mystery.

But maybe Father Brown’s stumped from lack of evidence and doesn’t have the time for an investigation. (Actually paying attention to his priestly duties for once?)

After all, it’s only luck that the crisis that gives them an excuse to investigate the apartment happens two minutes later.

And of course, the whole point of the story is getting this Holmes detective to the same crime scene as Father Brown to contrast their methods, so it doesn’t much matter how he gets there.

And there is a lot of fun in seeing shabby little Father Brown in this professional detective’s immaculate study.

"Oh, this is of the greatest importance," broke in the little man called Brown. "Why, her mother won't let them get engaged." And he leaned back in his chair in radiant rationality.

It’s not a full-fledged Father Brown story unless the mystery is centered on a romance, is it?

A stock Chesterton exchange: foolish-looking character says simple, silly-sounding statement as if it’s the most sensible thing in the world, before being forced to elaborate by a confused listener.

This story gives us Father Brown at his most silly-seeming. Here he’s not just unassuming and sheltered; he seems like one of Chesterton’s holy fools. He hasn’t looked this simple-minded since “The Blue Cross”

"Mr Brown," he said gravely, "it is quite fourteen and a half years since I was personally asked to test a personal problem: then it was the case of an attempt to poison the French President at a Lord Mayor's Banquet.  It is now, I understand, a question of whether some friend of yours called Maggie is a suitable fiancee for some friend of hers called Todhunter.  Well, Mr Brown, I am a sportsman. I will take it on.  I will give the MacNab family my best advice, as good as I gave the French Republic and the King of England--no, better: fourteen years better.  I have nothing else to do this afternoon. Tell me your story."

Sure, he’s a condescending ass, but I can’t help liking this guy. He’s got a good heart and a good sense of humor.

I kind of wish he’d have showed up in at least one or two other stories (preferably with a better end than Valentine).

The little clergyman called Brown thanked him with unquestionable warmth, but still with a queer kind of simplicity. It was rather as if he were thanking a stranger in a smoking-room for some trouble in passing the matches, than as if he were (as he was) practically thanking the Curator of Kew Gardens for coming with him into a field to find a four-leaved clover.

I like this metaphor very much.

Brown is still very, very much the simple little curate of “The Blue Cross”. But with the bumpkin traits turned up to eleven.

I’m very curious about Dr. Hood’s past cases, and how he achieved such renown.

"I told you my name was Brown; well, that's the fact, and I'm the priest of the little Catholic Church I dare say you've seen beyond those straggly streets, where the town ends towards the north.

Yet another parish! How many is this? This seems like the most distant, rural parish that Father Brown has yet had.

And Father Brown’s actually doing some work at it!

He seems to have quite a pocketful of money, but nobody knows what his trade is.  Mrs MacNab, therefore (being of a pessimistic turn), is quite sure it is something dreadful, and probably connected with dynamite. The dynamite must be of a shy and noiseless sort, for the poor fellow only shuts himself up for several hours of the day and studies something behind a locked door.  He declares his privacy is temporary and justified, and promises to explain before the wedding.  

Doesn’t the landlady have a key to the door of her own lodger? Can’t she just demand to look?

British people, I tell you.

Unless the daughter is preventing her from looking, out of respect for her beloved.

And, you know, he does promise to explain, so it’d be rude to just barge in.

So why bother consulting the great detective in the first place? If Todhunter’s really on the up-and-up, he’ll explain eventually, they’ll get engaged, and all will be well.

he is tirelessly kind with the younger children, and can keep them amused for a day on end

Given Todhunter’s chosen profession, this makes perfect sense.

You see, therefore, how this sealed door of Todhunter's is treated as the gate of all the fancies and monstrosities of the 'Thousand and One Nights'.

Another Father Brown mystery built upon a fairy tale atmosphere.

To the scientific eye all human history is a series of collective movements, destructions or migrations, like the massacre of flies in winter or the return of birds in spring. Now the root fact in all history is Race. Race produces religion; Race produces legal and ethical wars. There is no stronger case than that of the wild, unworldly and perishing stock which we commonly call the Celts, of whom your friends the MacNabs are specimens. Small, swarthy, and of this dreamy and drifting blood, they accept easily the superstitious explanation of any incidents, just as they still accept (you will excuse me for saying) that superstitious explanation of all incidents which you and your Church represent.

A lot of the most racist characters in Chesterton are the most educated, scientific and progressive.

Granted, Chesterton does a lot of stereotyping along national lines himself. But usually it’s not with the idea that these differences are bad things. And certainly not with the idea that race is the cause of all war.

the door opened on a young girl, decently dressed but disordered and red-hot with haste. She had sea-blown blonde hair,

Is this the first blonde female love interest in these stories?

They were quarrelling—about money, I think—for I heard James say again and again, 'That's right, Mr Glass,' or 'No, Mr Glass,' and then, 'Two or three, Mr Glass.'

Given the eventual explanation of what’s really happening here, wouldn’t she have heard some other noises (possibly crashing noises?) alongside this?

"I do not think this young lady is so Celtic as I had supposed. As I have nothing else to do, I will put on my hat and stroll down town with you."

Wow, you were really just going to disbelieve her because of her nationality, weren’t you?

Playing-cards lay littered across the table or fluttered about the floor as if a game had been interrupted. Two wine glasses stood ready for wine on a side-table, but a third lay smashed in a star of crystal upon the carpet. A few feet from it lay what looked like a long knife or short sword, straight, but with an ornamental and pictured handle, its dull blade just caught a grey glint from the dreary window behind, which showed the black trees against the leaden level of the sea. Towards the opposite corner of the room was rolled a gentleman's silk top hat, as if it had just been knocked off his head; so much so, indeed, that one almost looked to see it still rolling. And in the corner behind it, thrown like a sack of potatoes, but corded like a railway trunk, lay Mr James Todhunter, with a scarf across his mouth, and six or seven ropes knotted round his elbows and ankles. His brown eyes were alive and shifted alertly.

The clues are laid out very nicely here.

This is one of the most Romantic (in the literary sense of the term) crime scenes in all of fiction. Every clue is as picturesque as possible.

"How to explain the absence of Mr Glass and the presence of Mr Glass's hat? For Mr Glass is not a careless man with his clothes. That hat is of a stylish shape and systematically brushed and burnished, though not very new. An old dandy, I should think." "But, good heavens!" called out Miss MacNab, "aren't you going to untie the man first?"

This entire segment is so funny. I laugh every time one of his long-winded deductions is interrupted by the common-sense demand to untie the man.

Now, surely it is obvious that there are the three chief marks of the kind of man who is blackmailed. And surely it is equally obvious that the faded finery, the profligate habits, and the shrill irritation of Mr Glass are the unmistakable marks of the kind of man who blackmails him. We have the two typical figures of a tragedy of hush money:

So much of the Holmesian deduction process relies on stereotypes, doesn’t it? Sure, Holmes doesn’t label people in “types” quite this way, but it relies on using the evidence to reach the most stereotypical conclusion without factoring in the random possibilities of life. (The suspect might have ink on his hands, but it doesn’t mean he’s a clerk). It’s fun that this story calls out that conceit.

"No; I think these ropes will do very well till your friends the police bring the handcuffs."

Okay, so there’s a sensible explanation for why Hood ignores their cries to untie Todhunter. But it doesn’t make the previous exchanges any less funny to read.

"But the ropes?" inquired the priest, whose eyes had remained open with a rather vacant admiration.

It’s interesting that Father Brown’s actually buying into this. My memory had him being more skeptical of the deductions, but he’s admiring the chain of logic being built here.

It’s kind of a nice change from the usual Chesterton tack of the mouthpiece character disdaining every scientific explanation.

It was not the blank curiosity of his first innocence. It was rather that creative curiosity which comes when a man has the beginnings of an idea. "Say it again, please," he said in a simple, bothered manner; "do you mean that Todhunter can tie himself up all alone and untie himself all alone?" "That is what I mean," said the doctor. "Jerusalem!" ejaculated Brown suddenly, "I wonder if it could possibly be that!"

And we’re off! I always love the moment when Father Brown puts everything together, and it’s especially satisfying here, after he’s spent the whole story sitting back and letting another man do all the detective work.

"His eyes do look queer," cried the young woman, strongly moved. "You brutes; I believe it's hurting him!" "Not that, I think," said Dr Hood; "the eyes have certainly a singular expression. But I should interpret those transverse wrinkles as expressing rather such slight psychological abnormality—" "Oh, bosh!" cried Father Brown: "can't you see he's laughing?"

Each sentence gives a vivid picture of the three different personalities here. The tender-hearted young woman. The too-practical man of science. And the brash common sense of Father Brown.

He shuffled about the room, looking at one object after another with what seemed to be a vacant stare, and then invariably bursting into an equally vacant laugh, a highly irritating process for those who had to watch it.

Irritating to watch, I’m sure, but very amusing to imagine.

"But a hatter," protested Hood, "can get money out of his stock of new hats. What could Todhunter get out of this one old hat?" "Rabbits," replied Father Brown promptly.

I love the hat conversation and these lines in particular.

He was also practising the trick of a release from ropes, like the Davenport Brothers

According to Wikipedia, the Davenport Brothers were an American magician act that toured England in the 1860s. They built on the Spiritualism craze and claimed all their tricks were done by spirit power. There isn’t much about what their tricks wer, (besides a couple of escape tricks and spirit cabinet things). Most of the Wikipedia article is about the many times their tricks were debunked. (Naturally, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle refused to believe they were frauds).

But the mere fact of an idler in a top hat having once looked in at his back window, and been driven away by him with great indignation, was enough to set us all on a wrong track of romance, and make us imagine his whole life overshadowed by the silk-hatted spectre of Mr Glass."

This isn’t so much a debunking of the Holmesian deduction methods as a case study proving why logical deductions have to be built upon sound premises. One mistake at the beginning can send you in a completely false direction.

"You are certainly a very ingenious person," he said; "it could not have been done better in a book.

I love when the characters get meta.

This is a very snide remark in context, but of course Father Brown proves himself.

Mr Brown broke into a rather childish giggle. "Well, that," he said, "that's the silliest part of the whole silly story. When our juggling friend here threw up the three glasses in turn, he counted them aloud as he caught them, and also commented aloud when he failed to catch them. What he really said was: 'One, two and three—missed a glass one, two—missed a glass.' And so on."

I can’t explain how deeply I love that the entire mystery is built on a pun. This one section is the reason this is one of my favorite Father Brown stories.

This drives home the idea that mysteries and jokes are the same types of story. They both require laying out information that’s put together into a surprising conclusion.

There was a second of stillness in the room, and then everyone with one accord burst out laughing.  As they did so the figure in the corner complacently uncoiled all the ropes and let them fall with a flourish.  Then, advancing into the middle of the room with a bow, he produced from his pocket a big bill printed in blue and red, which announced that ZALADIN, the World's Greatest Conjurer, Contortionist, Ventriloquist and Human Kangaroo would be ready with an entirely new series of Tricks at the Empire Pavilion, Scarborough, on Monday next at eight o'clock precisely.

I grew up on cheesy sitcoms. I’m a sucker for the “everyone laughs” ending.

If Todhunter’s willing to admit the truth here, he could have saved himself a lot of trouble by just admitting the truth right away. (I don’t buy the “he keeps it secret to keep his tricks secret” explanation. You can tell people you’d a magician without giving away everything about your act).

Does Mrs. MacNab let them get married? Now she knows he has a harmless vocation, but it’s not exactly a stable one. Would she let her daughter marry a guy so flighty that he can’t even settle on a coherent focus for his own stage show?

Given that the story ends here, we’re supposed to assume that she does. I guess he must be a successful performer--part of her mistrust came from the fact that he had too much money. So he and Maggie should have a comfortable life together.

I’m glad. He seems like a nice young man.

#lb this is all your fault #father brown reread #father brown #g.k. chesterton #the wisdom of father brown #the absence of mr. glass #i remember why i stopped doing these things #they take forever #'but they wouldn't take forever if you didn't comment on every second sentence' #'be quiet logical brain' #this one feels very subpar but i'm out of practice

[writer-and-artist27]

Okii-san

Or, I somehow pulled Okita Alter on the first ten pull I did on the Guda Guda 3 rerun banner (I was actually aiming for the Craft Essences, so the gold Alter Ego card kinda shocked me after all the pain that was getting Enkidu and Ishtar), and with her now sitting at Level 84 in my Chaldea (as of this writing this notes section/intro at 11:06 pm on 4/12/2021, after farming Embers for 3-4 hours on Golden Apples/Saint Quartz), I wanted to write this bit before bed.

I don't know all of Majiin's story yet, since I wasn't able to play the event's original run where she debuted, but I hope the emotions here are about right.

-------------------

"YEW BOW!"

Vy watched as Robin Hood's Noble Phantasm went off, incinerating the last Divine Arm of Dawn with plumes of purple smoke. Once the air cleared, she felt herself quietly exhale.

Another farming bit done.

"Battle finished, Senpai," Mash said faithfully, taking her Ortinax goggles off her eyes to rest them on top of her head. The sparkle in her purple eyes was all the more obvious thanks to the action, further accentuating the warm smile on her face. "Embers are all collected."

Vy stretched her arms in the air, standing on her tiptoes while nodding. Standing as a commander of Servants, while doable, still took something in social energy. Even if it was for the experience, it didn't help that wearing an outfit that supposedly came from the Far Side of the Moon felt a bit too exposing. Maybe it was the short skirt and lack of stockings. But then again, Vy couldn't voice it. Too much worry could mean overthinking it to the point of broadcasting to the other Servants. And the last few times that happened were embarrassing enough with Dr. Roman still around. So instead of that, she said, "Aye aye. Thank you for the support, beloved kouhai."

Mash blushed a little at the title, but still nodded with the same warm smile. "I-It's the least I can do, Senpai."

"And I'm always grateful for that, Mash." Vy shot her a smile back once she felt that telling crack in her spine, rocking her head back and forth. To everyone else, she took a breath before opening her mouth. "Good job, everyone!"

Robin Hood, the MVP of the quest this time, shot Vy a wry grin in return, saluting her with one pointer finger. "Getting to fight on the front lines is at least easier now," he quipped. "But give me a break sometimes, Master."

"Oh, shushie, big Robin, you have more energy than me and I'm the workaholic." Once his green eye was boring holes into her forehead, though, Vy amended it with a more kind, less sardonic, "If it helps, I'll give you a chocolate chip muffin later?"

The May King merely grinned. Before he could say anything, though, Ishtar let out a haughty laugh, hovering over Robin's head with Maana as she put a hand to her chin. "How delightfully droll, green Archer! All this work for a muffin! Nonsense! As the Goddess of Love, I could certainly help you with whatever thoughts you have lingering in your mind instead—"

"Sorry, little lady. Compared to my little sparrow's gifts, that offer is going to get a hard pass. Plus, you're not my type."

Ishtar wilted as soon as she bloomed, Maana descending to near ground level as a result. Nearby, Vy could hear Mash laugh sheepishly, adjusting her hold on her shield as the last member of their party made themselves known with a soft sigh at Vy's other side.

The back of a gloved hand brushed Vy's free one, the one that didn't have the Command Spells, and Vy tried not to flinch away at the new sensation. Sure, the being known as Okita Souji Alter was still someone Vy was trying to grasp in emotional understanding. Even when being close to Final Ascension, there was something about Okita's eyes lingering on Vy's form the entire time they went about farming for the Embers Okita needed that was a little... different from the other Servants in Chaldea's roster. And yes, Okita wasn't the first Alter Vy had ever contracted with. Saber Alter had that honor bagged. It didn't make the constant surveillance any less... strange to think about, really.

But Okita had still answered her call when Vy wasn't expecting it. More so after her original self and some others didn't. And considering the Lostbelts and what would come, all Vy could feel herself doing in response to the small touch was reach over and grab Okita's fingers before the Alter Ego could lurch away.

"Majiin-san?"

"Wh-What is it, Master?" Okita Alter said after a second of consideration, her pale yellow — almost silver, really, when looking up close — eyes automatically locking onto Vy as she tilted her head downwards. They were close enough to where Vy could see her own image reflected in Okita's darkened irises. "Is there something wrong?"

"N-No no, nothing really." Vy glanced down at their entangled hands, feeling the thoughts rush through her at that moment. "I just..."

Calloused. Signs of bruises. How long had she been—

Before me, where had she—

Okita Alter's hands reminded her of Archer EMIYA's.

To Vy, Okita Alter's touch felt like Shirou's.

A wind passed between them. Vy wasn't sure if it was from the simulator or her brain making up the sensation.

"...Vy?" Okita whispered.

Anxiety was bubbling up in her throat, but Vy still raised her head and looked up at the taller Alter Ego with what she hoped was a genuine smile. She couldn't help but tug and squeeze the Servant's fingers a bit tighter as she said in a softer voice, "Are you having fun working with us, Okii-san?"

Okita Alter blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Then many times over, as if gears were turning in her head before her eyes widened to the size of plates. "Okii...san?"

"You're the only Okita I ever got to know," Vy said with a shy laugh, doing her best to ignore the eyes of the other Servants while speaking her mind. "So, Okii-san. And, I know you're not at full power yet, but, let me try again..." Vy gulped, finishing with a softer, "Are you happy right now?"

Am I helping you enough like how I did with Shirou, Mash, and big Robin?

Okita Alter stared at Vy for a while. The attention was enough to make Vy tempted to run, to want to let go of Okita's hand and hide her face away, but something inside of her was forcing her to stay still.

Silvery-yellow eyes reflected Vy's image for what felt like a long time before they closed, a soft sigh on Okita's lips.

"Okii-san? Um. Sh-Should I have not gone with that name? Should we go farm a bit more instead? O-Or should I go cook some oden when we—"

Instead of a verbal answer, Okita's long sword had disappeared into visible sparkles, and before Vy knew it, hands were reaching under her elbows, winding around her waist and—

"W-Wah!"

Despite being lifted up in the air and feeling very much like a teddy bear as a result (what was it with Servants either headpatting or hugging her like this?), Vy couldn't miss the warm solemn smile on Okita's face. "O-Okii-san?"

"...My anchor, my lord, my Master," Okita said in slow, gentle succession, her hold on Vy's figure almost considerate as she slowly brought her arms in to let Vy rest her hands on Okita's shoulders. "Why worry about that?" A nose gently brushed hers, sparking a sudden giggle from Vy's lips at the ticklish feeling as Okita smiled again. "Believe me, my shooting star." A shaky breath brushed Vy's cheeks as one of Okita's hands rested on the back of Vy's head, barely missing her ponytail and almost cradling her as their foreheads touched. Something sang through their Master-Servant mental connection.

"Okii-san—?"

"I honestly wish this kind of happiness could go on forever."

...Oh.

It was telling that none of the other Servants were saying anything.

Vy still raised her hands to wrap them around Okita's neck, pushing Okita's forehead back with a bit of force. Not enough to cause pain, but enough for a reminder. "We can just make more, Okii-san," Vy whispered, closing her eyes. "Even when this happiness goes away, we can still make more. Whether it's through memories or spending time together, happiness can happen. As long as we're alive, we can do it."

Once Vy opened her eyes, Okita was already in the process of putting her back down to Earth, that same solemn smile on her face. "Of course, Master."

It felt like another promise Vy knew she had to keep.

-------------------

"Emiya-kun! We need dinner!"

"Sheesh, even when possessed by a goddess, you're still so rude..."

Vy watched from afar as the other Servants slowly filed into the Novum Chaldea Dining Hall for dinner, her back against one of the hallway walls as her mental battery sputtered.

Maybe I should take a break from Ember Gathering for a while—

A soft whish of the air was all the signal she had before the scent of wood and smoke graced her nose. Coincidentally, a gloved hand rested on top of her head as a part of something green shaded half of her vision.

"...Robin?"

"You could go join them," Archer said softly. "You don't have to stay here, Vy."

"...Later." Vy tried to hold back a yawn. When it became obvious Robin Hood was staring holes into her head, though, she quietly amended the situation with a tiny, "When I have more energy, big Robin. Kinda operating on low social battery at the moment."

Plus Okii-san apparently hugs harder than most people, it seems.

The hand on her head patted her hair almost immediately. "Fine fine."

You should let yourself rest more before you try to take care of others, Master.

"Just, um. Big Robin?"

The headpatting stopped for a second. "What is it, little sparrow?"

As much as her heart was protesting at the selfishness of her brain, Vy still found herself admitting, "...Could I just stay with you for a bit? Don't wanna move for a while..."

Silence. Then, Robin Hood said in the most deadpan voice possible, "That sounds like you need a nap more than anything, Vy."

Vy tried not to grumble, ducking her head. She tried not to fidget once Robin's other hand reached up to her ponytail, undoing her hair tie to let all the long locks flow freely. "I know, I know... I love you too, Robin, just, less quip, more hug..."

Robin Hood paused, long enough for Vy to feel something in the air shift between them, before the hand on top of her head tugged her one way, enough for Vy's shoes to scuff the sides of the wall. In spite of the force, all Vy could do was blearily blink as soon as a faint kiss was pressed to her forehead.

Huh? "Robin...?"

"You selfless Master," Robin Hood muttered against the crown of her hair, arms winding around her waist to pull her to his chest. "Rest more for our sakes too, won't you? Killing yourself won't help anyone."

"I-I'm not killing myself when it's helping all of you find better things in life..."

Robin Hood sighed. Another kiss pressed against Vy's head, this time more noticeable to the point of her heart skipping a beat, before the No Face May King covered her shoulders. "Silly Master. Life is more than just giving things up for 'the better.'"

What will happen to us and that 'better' if you're not around to see it?

As much as Vy wanted to, she couldn't answer. Sleep was beckoning. The last thing she remembered before the peaceful darkness came was something gently brushing her lips. For all she knew, the sensation may as well have been the beginning of a dream.

#passing days #writing #okita souji alter #mastersona Vy #mash kyrielight #robin hood #robinvy #robvy #roby #hints of it #long post #short story #ishtar #archer emiya #vy plays fate grand order #fate grand order

[westershiresauce]

Headcanon: Deus Ex Scuba Gear

Note: Spoilers for Bly Manor. 

So, here is my Bly Manor/Supergirl crossover crackfic headcanon where Kara is Dani and her ex Mike gets killed by a truck when he walks into traffic after Kara comes out to him and breaks off their relationship.

“Mike, I think I’m gay,” the blonde whispers, too ashamed to speak any louder. The man next to her tenses slightly before a look of relief washes over him.

“Oh thank God,” he says, and smiles at a confused Kara.

“What? You’re okay with this?” Mike shrugs and shoots the woman his frustratingly disarming grin. 

“I mean, am I glad I’m being dumped? No. Am I relieved that the reason is you aren’t into guys? Kind of.” Kara wrinkles her brows in confusion and he continues. 

“I mean, I know I’m hot.” Mike grins again and winks at the blonde who purses her lips at his peacocking, “I thought maybe you were just frigid or something.”

“Mike!” Kara looks around to make sure no one is listening. Mike laughs and she shoots him a glare. 

“Hey, you’re the one that decided to break my heart at the corner of a major intersection.” 

He winks at her and she advances on the man, trying to shut him up. He skips away from her, ignoring the fact that he is now in the crosswalk of the intersection. 

“Mike! Stop fooling around!” the blonde pleads but the man ignores her. 

“Hey, were you checking out chicks while we were together?” He waggles his eyebrows and Kara balls her fists at her sides. She refuses to take the bait. The man just laughs at her silence. “Dude, you totally did. What’s your type?” 

He goes quiet suddenly and his face lights up. Kara shakes her head. It is seldom a good thing when the man gets a light bulb moment. 

“Hey Kara,” his face gets lecherous and Kara readies herself for some horrifying comment, “Would you let me watch?” 

Kara’s face blooms red with embarrassment and anger. She steps closer to jab her finger against the man’s face and get her point across. However, Mike anticipates this and he takes another step back, grin still in place even as a truck barrels into his body. Kara stares in shock, midstep and with her finger still in the air as Mike is flung at least twenty feet down the street. The smell of burning rubber as the truck attempts to stop and the blaring sound of a horn being pressed much too late fill her senses. 

Kara: “No, Mike, not gay as in happy. Good lord, dude!”

Kara is at the hospital when Mike is pronounced dead. Rhea never really liked her so she leaves for her apartment, still shaken but confused about how she feels about what happened. On the one hand she feels responsible for what happened, but on the other hand, she almost feels relieved. Until, that is, she goes to wash her hands in the bathroom and sees Mike standing behind her. She screams and when she turns around, he is gone. It isn’t until a few days later that she hears someone walking around her apartment that she realizes what happened. She grabs her trusty bat and walks out, expecting some coke addict rifling through her bookshelves but instead sees Mike, pawing at her bookcase. He grunts in frustration when his hand goes through a book but cheers when he manages to knock one onto the floor. Kara drops the bat in shock and Mike turns around, grins wide and puts a hand up in a peace sign, just like when he was alive.

Mike: “I’m still here, bro!”

Turns out Mike is tethered to Kara and it is a horrible, cruel curse. He is both the best and worst wingman and Kara is still not convinced he doesn’t try to peek when she is getting dressed or showering but he also helps her learn to be more confident. All his shameless arrogance makes him a great cheerleader, at least once they talk about some ground rules.

1. No creeping on Kara in the bathroom or when she is changing. Mike scoffs at this and mutters about being able to creep on hotter ladies. 

2. No unsolicited advice or comments about women that Kara is not interested in pursuing a relationship with. This is added after a week of Mike making comments about women that had Kara blushing constantly, even at work.

3. No watching when Kara has a lady over. She wasn’t sure where Mike disappeared off to when she did manage to have a date come back to her place but he would always leave after shooting Kara another peace sign and telling her to “do the circle thing I showed you.”

It all hits the fan when Rhea gets wind of Kara dating women and she packs up and leaves. She does not want to deal with that fallout and she would rather get a fresh start somewhere else. Where is that where else? London, Bly Manor, American au pair, you know the rest.

Kara: “Yeah, I’m gonna take a one way and gtfo of here.”

Who are our players at Bly?

Our cook Owen Sharma is good old Jack Spheer because sometimes these things write themselves. And who is our beloved Hannah Grose? Why, Lucy Lane. Because she was too good and I always want to see more of her. Plus she can be a stern little spitfire with the kids and ghosties (The kids refer to her to as Major). She takes her fine self and daydreams about the moment that charming Jack came over to get the job as a cook, not dead, just as a useless hetero (is that a thing? It is now...) that can’t fathom for some reason that Jack is totally in love with her.

As for Rebecca Jessel and Peter Quint? Kelly Olsen (the only character with any brain cells half the time) and Andrea Rojas, our muy caliente Scotsman. Is that racist? No, but her horrendous accent might be a crime. This version has none of the controlling assholeroy of Peter and no secretly killing Rebecca. Just good old bad luck in a horror series. Andrea gets drunk and tries to dive into the lake to find the chest of loot she is convinced is down there so her and Kelly can run away to America. 

Andrea: “This is a file on all the reasons you should run away from this haunted ass creepy mansion and come with me to America. Also, there is a map I drew of the lake with an X where the loot most definitely is.”

Kelly: “This is just a picture of you in lingerie and a sheet of paper you colored blue with a big red X in the middle.” 

Kelly dies trying to save her when Andrea starts to get hypothermia and they both drown in the freezing lake. Because why bury your gays when you can drown them? Amiright? Who finds their bodies the next day? This leads to the following section: Next slide, please!

Who is standing in for Miles and Flora Wingrave? Why, Ruby and a tiny Nia, of course. Nia is a sweet baby angel and I want to meet her as a little sister, totally doted on by her big sister, Ruby. Nia sees Andrea and Kelly arguing like lesbians (so much hand waving and crying and angry whispering) on the far end of the lake while their blue popsicle bodies float around. Ruby and Lucy drag little Nia away from the scene.

Nia: “My giant scarf is perfectly splendid! Also, I am baby.” 

Things get really spicy when Kara shows up, ghost!Mike and all. He complains about not being able to haunt the “hot chick from apartment 314” any more, but he perks up at the thought of “British broads.” Kara had hoped he was tethered to National City or something, but it appears he is linked to her. Mike is ecstatic when he finds out Bly is full of ghosts. He is always off somewhere exploring the mansion and only pops in to tell Kara snippets of Bly’s history and its many inhabitants. 

Meanwhile, we get to the real star of this indulgent charade. Lena as the wonderfully fit Irish (let her have the accent!) gardener, Jaime. She is convinced Kara is a corn-fed straighty from America until Kara throws herself at her in the greenhouse because flowers turn on lesbians (see Imagine You and Me and Georgia O'Keeffe’s many works. This is sapphic lore, kids.) She opens up about Mike and Lena smooches her so she doesn’t have to listen to the hot blonde’s delusions. 

Lena: “What do you mean it is too bright? What book? This is a watering can for my gardening activities. So is my fashionable, appropriately sized hat.”

Kara: *OMG she is so hot and cool, what do I do?* “Hey, do you guys do the circle thing in the UK?” 

Meanwhile, things are getting interesting with Mike and the ghosts: Kelly and Andrea, newly minted Bly ghosts, explain that they are stuck on the grounds. Mike, who believes in having the freedom of “you do you,” vows to break the curse. He strikes a heroic pose that makes Andrea roll her eyes but Kelly agrees they need to find out more about the origins of the Bly Manor curse. 

Flashback episode in a horrid b/w tone because I want to show this is old, okay. It’s not like we could figure it out by the clothes. Or the set dressing. Or the fact that the one of the characters died of “the lung.”

Anyway, we have our sisters, Viola and the other one. Their names don’t really matter because they are going to be the brunette one and the blonde one, played by the queen of period series: Katie McGrath.   

Anger-y brunette Katie, getting her smacking hand ready. 

And blonde, sad (but also evil? plot twist!) Katie, lusting after her brother in law. 

And they fight over none other than Daddy Cullen, Maxwell Lorde, because look at that hair, look at all those buttons, look at that big hand! Who could resist? 

The child is baby Lena being twirled by Anger-y Katie pre-“the lung” because let’s just have this turn into a black hole that destroys itself. 

Baby Lena: “Swing me, mummy. Swing me with your good lungs!”

Anger-y Smack-You-Every-Time Katie: “I swung too close to the sky and now this is happening to me.”

So while Kara and Lena are christening all sorts of places at Bly (yes, even the master wing because, of course, the master wing), Mike, Andrea, and Kelly are incepting themselves into all sorts of memories and whatnot. Cue that montage!

404 ERROR. MONTAGE NOT FOUND. 

Whoops, looks like we blew our budget on that black and white filter. Sorry about that.

Once the ghost trio realizes the chest in the lake doesn’t in fact hold some dragon’s hoard of gold, but the key to ending this madness, Mike pops in on Lena and Kara to bring them up to speed. Kara screams at him about the third rule while Lena tries to accept the fact that her girlfriend (yes, they are girlfriends by now, keep up) has a ghost for a best friend. 

Kara makes Mike look away while her and Lena get dressed and after quite a bit of exposition, they decide to pull the chest up from the lake. Lucy and Jack have been off playing hide the croissant or whatever the straights do during their leisure time, but they quickly hop on the “break the Bly manor curse” train.  

There is a fun B (C?) plot where Ruby and Nia steal Jack’s car and drive into town. No one in town cares because they are rich and all the adults at Bly are busy romancing each other and assume the girls are being odd rich kids playing somewhere in the manor. 

The adults are planning how to get down to the chest without suffering Andrea and Kelly’s fate, when they find some scuba gear the kids bought on their last trip to town. It is wholly impractical but the adults shrug and accept the plot hole so they can hurry this along. 

They draw straws and Kara has to dive down and tie some chains around the sunken chest. Lena jumps in front of limited edition Scuba Gear Kara to stop her but the American has to America so she dives into the freezing lake after a swoon inducing “I’ll be right back” kiss. Like, gifable on tumblr, twitter, and whatever new platform there is a hundred years from now.  

Scuba Gear Kara: “Guys, I can’t see anything through this helmet. Guys?“

After a few tense moments where Anger-y Olden Time™ Katie tries to stop Kara, Mike, Andrea, and Kelly step in and use their ghost powers to keep her away from Kara. Jack uses his car to pull up the haunted chest and they pry it open with a crowbar and plenty of moxie. The screams of slap happy Katie of the past ring out around the heroes as the curse is broken. The ghosts cheer, everyone laughs nervously (they know the end is never the end in a horror story) and Kara shivers from the cold until she is next to the fire, dry and cuddled up with Lena.

As her final act of revenge, Anger-y Katie gives Kara the Lung(!) but thanks to the power of Science, our spunky American pulls through after properly completing the full course of treatment and antibiotics. This includes Lena taking sexy care of her girlfriend. *wink*

***** westershiresauce is not a medical professional and their thoughts regarding the health benefits/healing powers of a sexy nurse!Lena are not verified. Don’t take srsly. ***** 

Cut to, one more garden and I can retire, Lena, sitting next to an immaculate shrub, waiting for her wife Kara to bring out the tea and biscuits. 

THE END!

Lena: “I swear to all that is holy, if that tea is shite, I am leaving her. It’s been like thirty years!”  

#supercorp #supergirl #bly manor netflix #the haunting of bly manor #headcanon #crack #headcanon crack #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #katie mcgrath #tw: drowning #facetious #best casting #Nia is baby #crack retelling #handwaving #no hate appreciate #peak comdey #comedy #omg humor #Picture it Bly Manor AU #kind of fix it #happy endings #westershiresauce #westershiresaucewrites

[rinaxtaros]

red. | sebastian michaelis

summary: [y/n] finally meets her masters beloved nephew and his demonic butler.

— madam (noun) used before a title to address or refer to a female holder of that position.

⤷ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 01

"Hurry along now, Madam, Lord Ciel is waiting for you" The carriage door opens with a slight squeak, showing its old age. Madame Red smiles politely at her maid, her red dress swishing in the wind as she steps down from her seat in the wooden carriage.

The bright sun beams down onto the Phantomhive estate showing off its beautiful scenery. The large mansion is impressive as it has kept its cleanliness throughout the many years its been standing tall.

"Always so cautious, what a lovely maid" Anne giggles to herself, her eyes closing as he smiles. Her maid stands with a polite smile, her hands clasping together on the front of her classic maid dress.

The white ruffles at the bottom of the black apparel barely scrape her mid thighs but it is shapely on her body. A bow sinches the waist of her dress tightly, prodding the outfit to give the outline of an hourglass shape. The neck line is shaped a classic sweetheart dip, accentuating her chest.

The maid had originally thought the dress was too much as Madam Red had it altered to her liking. She always loved clothes and wanted her maid to look astonishing. Since the two are close, she even added a little spark of red to the dress around the neckline. Madam Red was always so kind to her workers.

The maid in question worked along side her hard working butler, Grell. Although the maid was not particularly fond of the tall (and frankly, too quiet butler) she had no choice but to be professional.

Tanaka greeted the Red's at the large doors of the mansion, his old and tiny body shaking. Madam Red greets him with a curt 'hello' and walks past, excited to meet her nephew. The maid bows lightly as she walks past Tanaka who just shakes lightly.

The maid walks fast to keep up with her Lady and Grell who seems to float above the ground. The maid huffs and she pulls up her stockings. Her hair falls in her face as she leans over but she keeps up with her Lady.

The doors creek open, sunlight filling the hallway as she enters the room "you feel behind" Grell critiques from his place behind Madam Red.

The maid sighs "I apologise for my bluntness but my Lady walks a little too fast" She bows her head lightly, her hands crossing in front of her once again.

Anne laughs "I suppose I do! I'm sorry, (y/n)" Anne apologises as she lifts her tea cup to her lips. (Y/n)'s eyes flicker up to meet the empty state of Grell, a creeping feeling entering her body as it swirls in her stomach like some sort of serpent.

The door creeks open once again and a tray of goods comes forth, followed by the sharply dressed butler. He scans the room as he reals the cart in, the China shaking ever so slightly.

"Good afternoon, Madam Red" he greets politely as Ciel walks in behind him. Ciel hums and holds his head high, sauntering past his aunt to take a seat. (Y/n)'s eyes follow Sebastian's hands and how they gracefully pour the orange tea from the pot into the cups on the saucers. His gloves barely crease even as he grasps the cups and hands them out with a charming smile.

"Aren't you well built? Grell, why can't you look like this?" Anne practically feels up Sebastian as he walks past. His body tenses and (y/n) can't help but stifle a laugh at his expression. Anne has always been a little overwhelming.

Ciel 'tsks' at Anne's behaviour which snaps her out of it "Sorry, I can't help but admire his physique!"

Grell grumbles from behind Anne as his stare hardens on Sebastian. (Y/n) purses her lips as Sebastian walks back over to the doors, catching her eyes as he is about to leave.

"I shall prepare dinner now" He hums as he looks at his watch. Ciel nods and continues the conversation with his aunt.

"Dinner is served" Sebastian wheels our the tray with the main courses on them. Ciel merely hums, watching as he shows off his hard work. (Y/n) watches from the side, feeling unusually unhelpful. She watches as Sebastian has to trot up and down the long expanse of the table and set so foreword.

"Let me help you" She smiles politely, looking up at Sebastian through her lashes. Sebastian smirks, handing her the hot plates "Thank you"

The two bustle quietly, Madam Red explaining how 'proud of how kind her maid is'. Grell simply grumbles behind his Lady, his stare still on Sebastian.

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you bring your maid along if you have a capable butler?" Ciel asks as he grasps his cup of tea and tentatively taking a sip. Madam Red smiles brightly, her crimson red lipstick shining under the evening lights.

"She's simply excellent! My dear (Y/n) is a treasure" She compliments the awaiting maid "I can't go anywhere without her, she's like my best friend" she giggles.

"How stupid, a maid as a best friend?" Ciel scoffs.

"Well, I did know her before she became my maid! We mustn't toddle on this, our dinner will get cold" she ends the conversation by digging into the meal.

"She's a pretty one! Yes she is" A cherry-haired maid openly ogles the older maid who is washing the dishes from the dinner. Sebastian stands not too far from her as he prepares desert.

(Y/n) smiles lightly to herself as she hears the compliment, quickly drying her hands from the wet suds. The red haired maid squeals as (y/n) makes eye contact with her.

Two blonde haired boys stand at her side, one with a cigarette handing from his mouth and the other in farming get-up.

"Why, thank you, but I must assure you I am just a maid not worthy of your kind words" she smiles politely, dipping her head as sign of a nod. The maid squabbles, trying to create a sentence in her minute of panic.

"Please don't irate the guests, May-rin" Sebastian reprimands the maid. She apologises frantically. He snickers under his breath but hurried along to serve the desserts to the lord and lady

shall i continue?

feedback is extremely welcome!

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