binding and loosing

Jerome x reader smut
Word Count: 3501 
Warnings: masturbation, oral, sex, language, breath play, areas of dub/non con for touching, reader is definitely a murderer, threats galore.


I’m hungry for a fix. I’m hungry for the pace of the thrill and chase.

Your first night in Arkham. Still confused, still on edge at the idea of being surrounded by murderers. It’s his hands drifting over the skin of your ankles pulls you from sleep. A scream starts to build in your throat at the sight of him standing above you, but before you can even open your mouth, Jerome is chuckling.

“Whatever noise you make, nobody will come.” You stare at him, your heart pounding to the extent that you think your chest is moving with the force. It takes him a second to register your alarm. Jerome hits his forehead, chiding himself, before returning his gaze to you. “Wait. That made me sound crazy, didn’t it? Scratch that. I mean the guards don’t care about screaming murderers. It doesn’t matter either way. If anybody here is going to hurt you, it’s not me.”  

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Hero

prompt: “drabble prompts”

#53 “If you kill them, you’d better kill me too, because otherwise, I’m going to kill you.

#71 “You don’t get to pick and choose. You’re stuck with me.

#62 “Please, don’t cry.

pairing: Harry Hook x Tiana/Naveen Daughter!Reader

notes: if you think my last post was overboard you’re in for a real surprise ha I really hope you like this one though it gets pretty deep

requested by @jugheadismyking


Originally posted by ehdsisjado

King Ben thought inviting as many kids as possible from the Isle of the Lost was a good idea. What Uma had said stuck with him. The guilt of possibly leaving innocent kids behind ate at him, so he made it his mission to bring as many of them over.

What he didn’t know, was that by bringing them over, he had set Frederick Facilier’s plan to exact revenge into motion. 

To you, the daughter of King Naveen and Queen Tiana, today was a good day. The sun was out and the air was light. Unfortunately, on that very day, the Shadow Man’s son decided he would exact his revenge on your family. With the help of his shadow friends, he had the three royals tied up with ease.

The rag over your eyes was pulled down to reveal the malicious face of the Shadow Man’s son. You didn’t even know who he was until you heard your father speak out. 

“You look just like he did.”

Then everything clicked. You recalled all the stories your mother and father would tell you. The ones that left you plagued with nightmares of shadows and darkness. Your blood ran cold and your heart sunk to your stomach. You knew what vengeance could do to a person and how it could corrupt even a heart of gold.

“What do you want with us?” Your mother sighed. She wasn’t afraid of this boy. He wanted vengeance, but that wasn’t going to get him anything or anywhere. Evil never won.

The boy diverted his attention to your mother with a cold voice, “I want revenge. I’m going to send your souls over to the Other Side, and let my father deal with you.”

You growled, struggling against your restraints as you spat, “If you’re going to kill them, you’d better kill me too, because otherwise, I’m going to kill you.

Your captor turned to you, a sick smile painted across his lips, “Kill you? Oh, no, Princess! I’m going to make you watch them get dragged to the Other Side, just like I watched my father.”

You could swear your heart stopped. Your breath hitched in your throat audibly to which Frederick let out a chain of excited giggles “Oh, how exciting! This is going to be fun!”

You and your parents silently watched in horror as he pulled out two dolls resembling your parents, beginning his chanting. Your eyes darted across the room, desperately trying to find a way out. This couldn’t be the way you lost your parents. They were your everything.

Your eyes met your mother’s. She was leaning against your father and the two looked to be the opposite of you. 

Even in a situation like this, they both looked as composed as they would in the palace. Backs straight as a board, heads held high. On the other side of the room, you were on the verge of hyperventilating and practically curled up into a ball.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. Frederick threw your mother’s doll on the ground, yelling out.

“I’m pretty sure there are supposed to be voodoo faces and an evil voodoo song by now, no?” It was your father, and he sounded bored. Frederick let out a low growl.

“Laugh while you can, King Naveen.”

With a poof, a cloud of smoke went up, leaving you all coughing and spluttering. As the smoke cleared, you realised Frederick had disappeared and the royal family of Maldonia wasted no time in calling out for help.


Out in the bayou were two boys. Pirates. Two of the three most feared pirates on the Isle of the Lost had somehow found a place on Evie’s list and were now carelessly exploring deep in the bayous.

“Harry, do you hear that?” One of them said. His attention had turned away from his best friend to the sounds on his left. His friend stopped his whistling mid-way, shifting on the tiny boat they were on. 

“What is it, Gil? I was on a roll.” Harry’s eyes were narrowed at his friend, annoyed. Then he heard the screams that had alerted Gil. 

“Do you think we should check it out?” Gil asked, but Harry had already taken one of the oars and began to paddle. They reached a clearing, where an old, abandoned cabin stood. The screams had ceased, as if the people inside had given up.

“Gil, stay here. Keep watch, and if anything happens, leave.” Harry didn’t leave any room for arguing as he hopped onto the tiny porch and burst into the cabin.

You flinched, hard, when the door flew open with a bang. You were halfway inching towards your parents and thought Frederick had come back to claim your parents’ souls. You froze, dead centre of the room, head snapping up to see a very tall man with a pirate hat. 

A pirate in Auradon? When did that happen?

“Please, whoever you are, if you want money, we will give, but please, save our daughter!” Your mother pleaded immediately. Looks of confusion then recognition flashed across the pirate’s face before he flew into action, rushing towards you.

He yelled to the outside, ordering his friend to get help. Gil yelled back, uncertainly, alerting him of the oncoming swarm of shadows. Facilier was on his way.

The pirate started to work on your restraints, rapidly cutting through them with his sword. You tensed. Stories of pirates were told, and they were intended to be cautionary tales.

Once the ropes binding you had been cut loose, you stood, shakily, to run and help your parents, but a strong arm seized you, thwarting your efforts. You began to thrash, desperately trying to escape the pirate’s hold.

“No time, Princess. Got to go.” He spoke in your ear. You turned in his grasp, resisting the urge to slap him. “They’re my parents and they’re about to be murdered! You want me to just leave them here?”

Your father was the one that sparked enough sense in you to get you moving. “Darling, we escaped his father, we can certainly deal with his spawn. Go!”

You stopped your struggle, and with one last fleeting look, you dashed out of the cabin, hot on the pirate’s tail. You nearly crashed into his wall of a back when he suddenly came to a stop. Peering over his shoulder, you could see a livid Frederick Facilier, chest heaving with anger.

Without wasting any time, the pirate kicked the witch doctor into the swampy water with a grunt. Frederick, who was half the size of Harry, fell in without a chance to fight. Harry took your hand, pulling you with him and pushed you into a tiny, crappy wooden boat.

Not looking back, the pirate took the oars and quickly paddled Your heart was caught in your throat and your breathing uneven. You heard Facilier scream in anger in the background, blending away within the sounds of water sloshing against the oars.

Frederick wasn’t going to waste his time going after you. You were only a bonus. Your parents, however, were the focus of his wrath. 

You turned to the pirate in front of you, eyes wide. “Who are you?” Your question went unanswered until the cabin disappeared from sight. “Harry Hook.”

The surname struck ice into your heart, but you chose not to show it. He had saved your life. He had earned the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“Can you- What- Why-” You struggled to form a coherent sentence, your thoughts running wild. It seemed a million things had happened in the past ten minutes and you were having a lot of trouble processing it.

“Love, calm down. You’re safe now.” He said gently. He would have laughed at a reaction like yours, but with the situation you had just been through, he seemed genuinely concerned.

That should have calmed you down, but you both knew it wasn’t true. One look around your surroundings and you swear he almost fainted. The sky was getting dark, but the large outlines in the water were unmistakable. 

Alligators.

Harry’s face visibly paled a couple shades. He swallowed, eyes darting rapidly to look for an escape route. The two of you were surrounded. 

“I take it you don’t have a good history with alligators.” You joked, but your smile fell when you realised how insensitive you were being. “Sorry.”

His response was a cross of a grunt and a whimper. The two of you were stranded on the water, unmoving, as the predators continued to close in slowly. You spotted a large tree in to your left, seemingly high and sturdy enough to evade a bunch of alligators.

Taking the oars from his white-knuckled grasp, you maneuvered through the dangerously narrow escape path and hopped onto one of the large tree roots protruding from the water. You held out a hand to Harry, which, to your surprise, he took tightly and stood next to you. 

You scrambled to find a way up the tree, the two of you scaling up the branches until you were confident the two of you weren’t going to be swallowed whole by alligators. Harry made it next to your seat on the branch just as an alligator soared through the air, its jaws snapping shut.

You had to reach out and steady the pirate from falling over, helping him to sit next to you. 

The sun had set now, and you were squished against the leather of Harry’s coat as you tried to ignore the hissing of the reptiles not too far below you. “So, what’s a pirate doing in Auradon?”

He turned to you, silent. He studied your face for a moment before answering. “King Ben’s inviting a bunch of villain kids over from the Isle. That’s how your little voodoo friend managed to get to you.”

You narrowed your eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. “Of course a pirate would be the one to save me from peril.”

He mirrored your annoyed look, his stare unwavering. “You don’t get to pick and choose, princess. You’re stuck with me.” 

You stared back at him for a while, the two of you silent as you studied each other. Eventually, you broke the stare, softening. “I’m sorry.”

“S’alright, I’m used to it.” 

“No, no! I just meant…” you shook your head frantically, “it’s just that all the villains I’ve heard of have tried to you know… kill us?” You stumbled over your words, trying to get your point across.

He scoffed, as if you were telling a blatant lie he had heard thousands of times. “Yeah, well, sorry to burst your bubble, darling, but we’re not our parents,”

“well,” he tilted his head, pulling a face, “most of us.”

You chuckled lightly. “That’s fair. We’re not all rainbows and fluff, either. I mean, have you met the family of the Sleeping Beauty?”

Your laughs died out, leaving you in a slightly awkward silence. “I really am sorry, though,” you said, lightly nudging him with your body.

He looked down at you, shrugging, “you can stop apologising. I get it.” You nod, staring straight ahead, ignoring the sharp pierce of his gaze. “So I think we’re going to be here for a while… Want to chat?”

Harry pretended to contemplate the idea, “My schedule’s pretty packed, but I’m sure I’ll be able to make an exception.” You scoff, feigning offence despite the smile on your lips.

“Tell me about your life.” You said firmly, situating yourself in a more comfortable position. You were going to be here all night, you may as well get comfortable. Your legs dangled off the branch and you were leaned back lightly against the pirate’s side.

“Well, my dad’s Captain Hook,” he gestured to the hook dangling from his belt, “I didn’t really know him. I mean, sure, I knew him, but he was always distant, trying to find that goddamned crocodile.”

You were quiet whilst taking his hand in yours. You never really thought about it, but the parents on the Isle were probably too focused on revenge to actually raise a child.

Harry’s eye’s flickered to his hand in your smaller ones before looking away once more. His voice dropped to a quiet murmur, “I only wanted him to approve of me, y’know? I started trying to be evil when I was younger, but as I got older i realised you had to be evil to survive on the Isle.”

He sighed, continuing, “Then I found Uma and Gil. We all had pretty messed up parents so we stuck together. We were there for each other when no one else was. But she wanted to take over Auradon. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she only did it for Ursula. Uma’s the girl who crashed the Cotillion.”

You nodded in realisation. You had heard of what happened at the Royal Cotillion. Maldonia was the more estranged part of the United States of Auradon, so you didn’t pay much attention to the news. Your parents said it was nothing to worry about, anyway.

Harry chuckled, a little too sharply to be humorous. “She could’ve come here too, but precious Mal barely agreed to let me and Gil over.”

“Uma sounds like a real friend. I’d love to meet her someday,” you gave a genuine smile to Harry. You were glad he’d found a friend like her. Being a princess of a distant country, you weren’t able to have many of those.

“I’ve yet to find someone like her. Royal life isn’t exactly the social jackpot. Everyday is the same. I barely ever get to see my parents, too,” you sighed, your posture deflating a little, “obviously, it’s not the same as what you guys have gone through, but I never chose this life, you know what I mean? I just wanted a normal life with normal parents, but nope, life just has to get it’s kicks.”

You rambled, stopping to catch your breath. Looking away from Harry’s amused smile, you went on. “I just… Today was supposed to be their day off, where they could take a break from the stuffy royals and just chill,” you laughed bitterly. “It was supposed to be a good day! And now I don’t even know if they’re alive or not.”

You were so absorbed in your ranting that you didn’t notice the hot tears welling in your eyes. Harry squeezed your hand. “Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffled, hastily wiping at your eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

A hand went under your chin to tilt your head up. Your eyes met Harry’s. You were half expecting him to laugh at your outburst of emotions but instead, warmth flooded your body at the look in his eyes.

“Love, your parents have fought off the Shadow Man. His kid’s not even half of what he was!” Harry said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I have complete faith in-”

You didn’t let him finish as you crashed your lips onto his. He sat still for a moment, disbelieving that an actual princess was here. Kissing him. It didn’t take long for him to respond, arm curling around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your hand slid up his neck, tangling in his hair as your lips moved in complete sync.

The moment ended all too soon as you broke apart, both wearing child-like grins on your faces. 

“I think tonight’s going to be fun.”

The Naming of Things

Fenris/f!Hawke, 10k words, sfw. Fenris doesn’t have a favourite dragon breed; it falls to Hawke to remedy this. In her subsequent bid to elucidate the nature of sea dragons, she ends up uncovering a great deal more about friendship, and love, and loss.


A/N: The whole Kirkwall gang is there, with special mentions to Varric and Isabela, and guest appearances by the Arishok and Professor Frederic of Serault from Inquisition. :D Content warnings for non-graphic character injury, referenced character death, and canon-typical violence.

Many thanks to @sasskarian for looking this over and smoothing out the rough edges. ♥

Read here on AO3


“It’s a valiant attempt to teach children about the Fade, but it’s the fear of spirits and demons that should be instilled in their minds, not the idea that they can be friends,” Fenris says between sips of the dry Nevarran white they found in her cellar. “And the part with the desire demon was entirely age-inappropriate. It’s a wonder the Chantry hasn’t banned this book.”

Ensconced in her armchair, Hawke is running her toes up and down the back of the mabari curled up at her feet, watching him gesture as he speaks. “Tut, tut, elf. It was my favourite. My father stole it from the Circle library before eloping with my mother when she was pregnant with me. You don’t know half the favours I had to do for Orsino to lend me the Circle’s copy and—” she bursts into peals of laughter when he turns to stare at her, slack-jawed, “—Maker, you should see your face.”

Hawke,” he protests, but there’s no bite to it.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d fall for it,” she replies, biting down a fresh fit of giggles. “In fact, I’m almost insulted you did.”

He laughs into his glass. “I did think it was much too treacly for you. Not to mention wanting dragons.”

“Well, that’s a given. Who wouldn’t want a dragon?” she quips, teasing another laugh out of him.

It took no little effort to coax Fenris into reading a children’s book. A Slave’s Life was too big a step up from the simple sentences Hawke would scribble down for him: the prose that she remembered as spare and parse suddenly wasn’t, and the Tevene that peppered the text—what with its quirks and arbitrary spellings—had him storming out of the estate before long, pride chafed raw.

It was her mother who suggested children’s literature. The few picture books Leandra had held onto in hopes of grandchildren had all been lost in Lothering, so Hawke dug a yellowed copy of Martha’s Adventures in the Fade out of the two-copper bin of a Lowtown second-hand store and snickered at it until the owner had her buy the Maker-damned thing or leave. “Here, we can even make up for your lost childhood memories,” she told Fenris, and though shame had tugged his gaze down, he raised his face then.

“Have it your way,” he relented, but his eyes were soft.

Varric would never let her live it down if he found out, but between the deep rumble of Fenris’s voice and his snide remarks, she caught herself enjoying the stupid thing more than she’d care to admit. Few evenings turn out half as pleasant, sitting shoulder to shoulder, fingers bumping and brushing to turn pages. When Fenris clamped his hand around her wrist to keep her away from the book, she retaliated by twining their fingers together, and he made no effort to pull free until the end of the last page.

It’s been just a little bit harder to breathe since.

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Captured

Title: Captured

Demon!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: language, tiny bit of angst, smut. Lack of a true plot? I don’t even know if that needs a warning. I mean, it’s Demon!Dean smut. That’s warning enough. Haha.

A/N: This is an Anon request. I’m sorry if this kind of sucks. I didn’t realize that writing Demon!Dean was so difficult. But here it is.  

Request: “hello!! I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is kidnapped by demon Dean and ends up getting seduced by him and it’s just smut? thank you!!”

Originally posted by life-of-a-plaidchester

The ties around your wrists ached as you came to. Your eyes fluttered open. The small room you had apparently been carried to was small and dark, littered with dark wood furniture. An office? Yes, definitely an office. What the hell?

You wiggled in the stiff wooden chair beneath you as your eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. Suddenly, a large, overhead light flick on, causing you to wince.

“Good morning, darlin’.” The voice made your skin prickle as you lifted your head. Your eyes locked on the face that you had been searching for, for months. The deep green eyes staring back at you were darker than you remembered, emotionless.

Then, the green was gone, drowned out by a pure obsidian gaze. Your breath hitched; it was true. Dean was no longer… Dean. He was something that you hunted, the very thing you killed for the thrill.

“Dean?” you whispered. He just chuckled as he approached you. His muscular form towered over you as his eyes flicked back to green, a smirk forming across his lips.

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pritkins-little-witch  asked:

How do I whistle up a wind when I can't, well, whistle? I tried, but my whistling is quite lack luster ever since I had braces, since they were used to close the gap between my teeth which was how I whistled. Is there another way?

Hi abbadons-little-witch, if you can’t whistle there are lots of other ways to summon wind. You can:

  • Use a glass bottle (blow over the rim of the bottle);
  • Use a whistle made out of alder or willow wood (or any whistle really);  
  • Throw a handful of Broom (the herb) into the air;
  • Bullroarers (a long flat wooden blade on a string) can also be whirled around in the air to call up the wind, especially when made of lightning struck oak (though in Cornish craft, such tools are used to call spirits)
  • Put a handful of dried Lungwort (Lungwort is associated with the element air and is used for protection when traveling by air) into a small bag attach it to a string and swing it above your head;
  • Specially made weather working brooms can be swung about your head in the same manner. (Scotch broom is an appropriate material for a broom made of to stir the winds in the sky. Its pungent yellow blossoms are allied with the creatures of the air and its seeds are dispersed over great distances by the wind).

Regardless of the method you choose to call the wind, make sure your hair is unbound and loose; binding and knotting are ways to capture the wind, not call it. Hope this helps!

- Marci

Tonight You Belong to Me [Napoleon Solo x Reader]

Author’s Note: Finally wrote something for Man from UNCLE! Been wanting to for ages but just never had any ideas. This specific cover of “Tonight You Belong to Me” is what inspired this, and I listened to it on repeat while writing this (I made sure this song would fit in the timeline lol don’t worry, which it did… original was released in 1926). I’m not entirely sure if this makes sense, especially toward the end, as I’m getting really tired now, but hopefully it does and hopefully you like it! Illya is next muahaha. 

Word Count: 1,699

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CO20: *yo,k2tog* turn. purl wrong side.*k2tog,yo* turn. purlwrong side. repeat for length desired. BO loosely.
  • Them: So, how many languages do you speak?
  • Me: 4
  • Them: 0_0 Fluently?
  • Me: Yep.
  • Them: Wow! What do you speak?
  • Me: English, Spanish, knitting, and crochet.
  • Them: What? But...those aren't real languages.
  • Me: *slides across the table a simple knitting pattern*
  • Them: What is this? I can't read this. It makes no sense!
  • Me: Actually it does. You see...it's a simple lace pattern. All you do i cast on 20 stitches and then work in a 4 row repeat. The first row you work a yarn over and then knit 2 stitches together. You do that all the way across and then purl evenly back on the wrong side of the work. Then on row 3 you knit 2 stitches together and then yarn over. Do that across and then purl back on the wrong side again. Repeat that 4 row repeat for the length desired and bind off loosely.
  • Them: ....
  • Them: ........
  • Them: ............
  • Me: Would you like to see a crochet one?
  • Them: ...

anonymous asked:

How do you tell if you're trans? I was born female, and never though myself to be a male trapped in a female's body. But, during high school, I started to hate being born female. I hated my female body and looks. I wanted to be male, so I cut my hair, started binding, and wore loose clothing. I searched online, and the closest thing I can find to what I do is cross-dressing. I've thought about hormone transfusion, but I've always been afraid that I won't like the results and regret it.

The problem is that a lot of trans people feel this doubt. It isn’t common that someone is 100% absolutely certain that their trans. Here are some things that have helped me come to terms with it:

If you think you might be trans, chances are you are. Most cis people just… don’t question their gender. At all. They feel fine in their skin. They don’t give it the slightest thought. The fact that you are questioning it means something. One thing I did when I was at the beginning of this was look at a list of gender orientations. You don’t just have to go from one extreme (female) to the next (male), there are plenty of inbetweens that might fit you better. Look at the labels. See if they help you narrow it down.

You were assigned female at birth. Do you feel like you might be something like a demigirl? Maybe genderfluid? Nonbinary? If none of these feel “right” to you, maybe you are transmasculine/a trans man. That’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. The fact that you’re questioning this means that it’s real for you. Don’t forget that.

Another thing that’s helped me is not to think about it like “I’m a man in a woman’s body”, but “I’m a man everyone insists is a woman”. That helped me accept the fact that the social dysphoria I feel is real, and I feel that way more than physical dysphoria. That being said though, don’t let anyone tell you that you need any kind of dysphoria to be trans. This isn’t the pain olympics.

As for being scared of the changes that come with HRT… yeah. I agree. That shit scares me too, especially looking more like a man and still retaining my breasts. I have nightmares about that. One thing that comforts me are looking at things that will or won’t stay if you suddenly decide to stop HRT. Remember you can do that. You can stop HRT if you start to freak out or feel wrong. Yes, some changes are permanent, but a lot aren’t. It’s one of the reasons starting HRT before having top surgery is recommended, because you can’t undo surgery, but you can stop taking hormones.

If you’re as unsure as I feel like you are, please get therapy. A lot of times it’s required for you to be signed off to start HRT anyway, so don’t feel like you’re wasting time with it. Use that time to talk to your therapist deeply about your fears and doubts and everything that’s concerning you. Just be sure that you get a therapist that can not only sign off for you, but one that has experience dealing with trans individuals. The last thing you need is a transphobic therapist putting more doubt in your brain.

That fear is probably always going to be there until you’re well on the road to becoming who you really are, and even then it can still crop up. It’s just something that we have to learn how to manage together.

Look up videos of other trans guys talking about how they felt before and after HRT. Look up their stories. Ask others for help (like you’re doing now). The doubt isn’t going to go away overnight, but it can be managed, and you’re going to be scared. That’s okay. It’s a very scary thing to go through, I know. But you’re gonna be okay. Take it at your own pace.

EDIT: I also want to add that many, many people don’t feel they’re trans “at birth” like a lot of us are lead to believe. Many don’t feel anything wrong until they’re, like you, hitting puberty. So you’re not weird being “late”. I didn’t even realize I’m trans until recently, well into my 20′s.

Just because you weren’t “born trans” doesn’t mean you aren’t.

Can’t Help Falling In Love (Part 16)

Summary: The reader has tried continuously to fall out of love with Sam, however just when she thinks that she’s got it under her belt Sam comes waltzing right back into her life again undoing all of the hard work that you’ve worked toward.

A/N: Here we have the beginning of the end, make sure you leave a review and tell me what you think, what direction do you want this to end in?

Warnings: Language, violence

Word count: 2702

Sam x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Originally posted by supernaturaldaily

“I mean I could just go back to my other Demon friends, tell them where you all are and sit back for the slaughter-fest and walk on my merry Demon way” Meg says as she unfolds her arms and begins to pace the room.

Sam stays awkwardly silent on the bed and Dean stands to try and reason with Meg “he wasn’t gonna do it Meg, c'mon none of us need to start fighting now.”

Meg shrugs “I wouldn’t say there’d be much of a fight” she eyes both of the boys “well maybe a small one, I’ll tell you my plan but if you think I’m helping you after that you’re dumber than you look.”

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anonymous asked:

“I won’t lose you too.” Hotch x reader

Title : Heart strings

Originally posted by zugzwangcm

The two of you were tired, bloody beaten and bruised. Two days of torture and nothing but water and energy bars to keep you going. Your captor had finally let your binds loose, causing you to fall to the ground as Hotch called your name. you couldn’t move, you just lay there. Your bruised skin relaxed against the cool floor. 

“Little bitch won’t last another night” your captor spat, kicking you one last time before walking out and locking the door once again. 

You rolled over, lying on you back. Trying to hear what Hotch was saying.

“Y/n, you need to stop taunting him” he wheezed.

You laughed, spitting blood out of your mouth. “Hotch, come on. The profiler tells us we have to taunt him, we need him to get reckless and break.”

“That doesn’t mean you should keep tempting him all the goddamn time” he roared. You turned to face him standing there tied up. Shaking in what you believe was anger.

Hotch never yelled at you, never questioned you. You always joked it was because you were the only who got his coffee order right. You crawled onto your knees, then managing to stand up and stumble towards him.

“I can’t loose everyone I care about. I lost Hayley, I won’t loose you too” he choked out, avoiding eye contact in case you caught onto to what he was implying. You simply cupped his face and kissed the side of his mouth, making him blush,

“You won’t”

mattykinsel  asked:

What do you make of the idea that the Church has the authority to dispute such issues, given to her clearly in the authority to bind and loose etc given to Peter when he received the Keys from Jesus (with the other apostles) and became the Rock? Like I'm kinda seeing ... the gist of your theology here, but I'm also hella Catholic and the Magisterium is traceable and the doctrine fits and makes sense and it was instituted by Christ to guard his Truth and hand down Holy Tradition so like :0 Idk yo

My first response is a series of questions: who told you the Magesterium is traceable?  Who taught you to capitalize the Church and Truth and Rock?  Who put together the story in a way that it fits and makes sense?  

It is probably the same people who benefit in specific ways when you and others believe that.  (Because I have a Marxist bent, I always want to make sure we are following the money: who gets paid when we believe a certain thing?)  I’m not saying they are wrong.  But it does matter.  To claim that any human product, including theology or authority, is untouchable and outside time/space/material reality is a form of idolatry.  

I mean, I’m someone who has literally been under the earth under St. Peter’s Basilica to catch a glimpse of a corner of his tomb - I’m not unimpressed or outside this history.  However: there wasn’t a church for Peter to moderate in the gospel story.  There are a thousand interpretations of that verse that don’t mean this intensely specific thing about how Roman Catholicism as it has developed over hundreds of years in a variety of ways having to do with language, money, power, economics, race, ethnicity, gender, culture, and empire has complete dispensary control over the boundless love and grace of God.  

It is absolutely critical - especially for a Christian - to ask the question: who wants me to believe a certain thing, and why?  And how do they benefit?  Theology is not exempt from human sin, nor from the rules about how the knowledge economy works.  I am forever in debt to my Jesuit education, and the Jesuits who taught me to ask these questions about power and knowledge, about the social location of any speaker, including myself, and who impressed upon me that Roman Catholicism also insists upon the integrity of the individual conscience.  If I were a dude, I would have made an attempt to be a Jesuit.  I miss Roman Catholicism intensely on some days.  However, I don’t think it’s “pure” or has any lockdown on what is “correct”; that’s not why I love it.  Jesus wasn’t obsessed with correctness or human authority.  I don’t think we should be either.  He was pretty obsessed with the poor, though, and the sick.  With stories and women and bread.  

I am living evidence that you can make promises within a tradition and also be critical of it, understanding that it too is a product of human fallibility.   The profound flowering of Christian traditions points to this, too.  Dutch Reformed practice looks different from Coptic practice in Egypt.  Roman Catholicism looks different in Manila than it does at the wealthy folk mass parish in the ritziest neighborhood in Seattle.  Quaker practice in Philadelphia and Good Friday processions in Nicaragua are really different.  And all Christian.  They are all Christian.  There’s some thing good, right, and beautiful in that - instead of something terrifying, I think.  

anonymous asked:

I hear you on Potter being deceptively hard to world-build and an eventual failure in the making. Seeing the franchise name become "Wizarding World" is a bad sign but WB seems to forget Potter was a story with a clear ending, so it CAN'T go on eternally like Star Wars or superhero-verses. I'm already feeling bad on how new Potter media reflects on the main seven books. Anything else to add onto Potter & franchise-building in general: how hard it is and the roadblocks corporations face doing so?

I’ll admit, I definitely dropped that in there on purpose, because the idea of How To Make A Shared Universe is one that was preoccupying me a bit recently, and why Harry Potter it turns out can’t do that at all. Even setting aside how good or bad it might have been, Cursed Child is clearly redundant: there was one villain that all other evil flowed from in a very direct sense, his defeat closed the narrative for the main character, that’s the end, no other stories cry out to be told in this world. Yes, you can make a quintilogy about the guy who wrote one of that main characters’ textbooks, but it’s beyond pointless.

At the same time, Harry Potter seems like it should be conducive to the shared universe approach: there’s so much mythology and history setting up the scaffolding of that world, it feels as if you could explore its corners forever. But all of it, from the spells to the characters to the locations, ultimately come down to how they impact Harry. That’s not a flaw of the work, and those characters do breathe on their own, but it’s not *really* an ensemble piece. Only the one guy’s got his name on the cover (well, Sirius and Snape had their nicknames on covers, but you know). Everything relevant feeds back to him and his development one way or another, and once his story is done, the world ends with him. It’s rich set dressing, but for a purpose that has been served.

Star Wars on the other hand, as the star of the day (or at least the day I received this ask) and therefore my primary positive example? Just going by that first movie, while there’s one character in particular whose narrative ends up driving everything, one of the first things we learn about Star Wars is that a lot of people’s very different stories are propelling this world forward, from comedic robot duos to gun-slinging space smugglers to princesses overseeing galaxy-spanning conflicts to wizard samurai to plucky teens in search of adventure. They’re all relevant, and because of that we as the audience are to understand that all the corners of that world they represent are themselves relevant.

Thinking about it, I ended up laying out some rules for how these mass universes (on the Star Wars/DC/Marvel scale) tend to work:

1. They can’t be set in what we’d comfortably call the real world. If it is, there’s no real shared conceits, beyond the ones us real schmucks already live by, and aside from that the characters could run into each other, the connection is immaterial. The Middle and The Office might exist in the same universe, but besides a theoretical crossover episode, what opportunities spring from that connection that justify making it in the first place, that’d make people go “wow, they exist in the same world, this changes everything about how they both work”? If two or more fantastical things coexist though, you’re multiplying the number of things you’re permitted to bring into each other’s narrative spaces, meaning crossovers can thereby make both worlds exponentially richer.

1a. Speaking of conceits, generally speaking there does need to be a shared one or two that’s specific beyond the very concept of “magic/time travel/etc. exists,” to show why all this stuff needs to be in the same world.

2. Closely tied with the above, there needs to be the opportunity to explore multiple genres in that world; if you want this place to feel rich, it has to be able to feel like all kinds of stuff is going on in there.

3. Closely related, the idea that there are multiple figures of significance worth following beyond their involvement in one or two other peoples’ stories in this world is crucial.

I talked about Star Wars and how it invites diverse genre possibilities a bit already, so let’s go with my own favorite shared universe in the DCU. While I tend to think it actually works best when the ties that bind them are fairly loose, let’s cover what the core Justice League alone bring in:

* With Superman and J’onn, it’s clear that aliens exist in this universe, that they may have fantastic abilities by our pitiful human standards (or may gain them under special circumstances), that both literal little green men from Mars beyond our ken and incredible Flash Gordon-style pulp sci-fi civilizations of near-humans number among them, faster-than-light-travel and teleportation are on the table to get them here, at least one brings an entire ghost dimension with him, and they may well wear elaborate uniforms and publicly devote their lives to protecting Earth, while also living among us as humans in “secret identities”. Their adventures in pursuit of this duty can take them from the depths of space to the inside of men’s minds.

* Batman shows that humans can also devote themselves to the same mission with the same basic methods of operation, that these weird costumed characters can fight flashy stylized murderers with elaborately themed Rube Goldberg-esque master plans, and that said human vigilante can in fact function and defeat them with access to a perfect physique, virtually every existing human skillet, a set of gadgets and vehicles that wouldn’t be out of place in James Bond, and a network of allies, i.e. superheroing is an option theoretically on the table for anyone and everyone in the right circumstances, and they can get so good at it to earn a spot on the big table with people with superhuman powers.

* Wonder Woman and Aquaman demonstrate that magic, hidden civilizations that may emerge to impact humanity at any time, and literal gods are also on the table - and those of such realms may take classical heroic journeys to save our own world.

* Flash shows that just any old normal human can get powers like these under the right (if still improbable) circumstances, as well as bringing in time-travel and expeditions to other universes.

* Green Lantern shows that all these incredible forces can and will take notice of humanity directly, and declares that even our literal emotions can have a tangible, cosmos-shattering impact when the right super sci-fi tools are applied, and that we may take part in a universe-spanning mythology that extends from galactic military campaigns to beat cop work.

Even if you deleted the rest of DC Comics tomorrow, you could easily rebuild a world from those seven characters and the first principles they represent. There’s a ton going on. And at the same time it makes sense that they can and should all sit in a room together, because they share similar aesthetics and basic goals.

I think those rules hold up pretty well. Take Kingdom Hearts: much as I love it, it isn’t well-suited to an expanded universe setup. While there’s a lot of crazy magic and super-science and alien races and mythology in there, it all only really comes down to the people with the keyblades, and they just go from world to world to beat a given bad guy or seal a keyhole; there’s only so much you can obviously justify doing if you stray away from that core premise. Star Trek on the other hand for instance, while centering around a singular organization, has such a broad mission statement - go Out There to find new life and new civilizations - in the context of multiple ensemble piece programs that you can do just about anything with those crews, from dealing with metaphors of race relations to getting thrown into the 1930s to meeting actual Greek gods, and as such a whole empire of TV shows and movies and novels and comics and audiobook dramas and whatnot makes total sense. That’s what it comes down to: if there’s a real feeling that this is a world that can plausibly have anything, then there’s no reason not to do do everything with that set-up.

In a corporate sense like you ask the basic principles don’t change, just the budgets depending on the medium and which characters you can wrangle if it’s an adaptation. I do admire though how the MCU and the DC TV shows have made it work in the public consciousness, particularly how they sidestepped the possible uncanny valley involved with the concept by slowly building up to their weirder elements. The MCU kicked off with a normal guy in an - admittedly extraordinary - exosuit he built fighting terrorists and other guys in exosuits, the next had a monster but one of science gone wrong in building a super-soldier, the next had a god but in another dimension, with most of his time spent on Earth being moral, and the straight-up costumed superhero of the bunch was in a pulp period setting, with only Avengers finally doing a straight-up superhero action movie where they all get together with some super-spies to fight aliens. The CW’s world started off with a single crimefighter without even Batman’s allowances for a strict moral code and a flamboyant theme, slowly introduced super-drugs, eventually allowed super-beings but in a limited context with a single well-defined source point, then time travel, and then magic, and then aliens but in another universe, and then finally they let it all sit together with all of these becoming normal elements regularly crossing over and teaming up with superheroes as an established part of that world. Not that it necessarily has to be that way - I have problems with the DCEU, but it isn’t that it kicked off with Superman and then immediately brought in the rest of the Justice League, even if the insistence on pseudo-realism seems odd in that context - but especially in the early stages of making this something that can work for the first time on TV (aside from Trek, but those didn’t often cross over on TV and didn’t branch out nearly as much) and in movies, I bet it helped.

Prompt for Moana: You’ve already done a fic for Moana with PTSD, but surely Maui has that too. A thousand years alone? Look up the effects of solitary confinement on people, it’s not nice. Then you have him jumping into dealing with people all over again, all at once, old-new things everywhere all the time without stop - Moana helping him with that, as he helps her, would be lovely.

All right, here you go! One order of Maui + Moana hurt/comfort, as requested. 


“Hey, Chief Curly!”

“That’s Chief to you!”

“Whatever. Found something for you!”

From atop the mast, Moana looks around herself indignantly, trying to spot the island before she has to slip on down the mast and admit defeat. The horizon yields nothing to her eyes, no telltale smudges atop the waves.

“Give it up, Curly,” Maui says from below her, and she can almost hear the impish grin in his voice.

“Hush,” she mutters. Then she has to concede, sliding down the polished wood.

“You just gotta keep your eyes open,” he starts instantly, smirking at her. “You gotta have the eyes of a hawk - ”

“You can shapeshift into an actual hawk. That’s not fair.”

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Catalyst - Chapter One

The Return

Cowritten and Proofread by @aoimikans


Five hundred meters.

The fall morning was bright, crisp, and quiet. Wind whipped through Izuku Midoriya’s hair, cool but not cold enough to sting his lungs as he picked up speed. His feet pounded against the track and arms pumped at his sides. His muscles burned but nowhere near their limit. Izuku grinned.

Four hundred meters.

The spark in his chest flared, and he activated One for All: Full Cowl. Power darted across his skin and warmed him from the inside out. He felt lighter, the ground softer, the distance shorter, his mind at ease. He ran.  

Two hundred meters.

Izuku pushed himself. Seven percent. Eight percent. Nine -

He hissed at the pull at his tendons. One for All fizzled out as he slowed to a jog, then a walk. His legs throbbed, just on the edge of strain. Nothing he couldn’t shake off.

Not quite sturdy enough for nine percent yet, Izuku thought with a thoughtful frown. He shook his head, One hundred meters cool down. Then stretch. Maybe tomorrow…

Izuku walked the rest of the loop. The pounding of his heart and breathing slowed as he turned along the last curve toward his belongings. He glanced up and halted midstep.

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Special Treatment

March 4, 2016

Ship: KamuLeo (one-sided)

Length: 1,746 words

Read it on AO3!

This takes place shortly after Kamui finds out about her lineage and sides with Nohr.

After they were long gone, he heard her muffled sobs through his cracked door. He wanted so desperately to console her but he convinced himself that that was unlike him. The last thing Kamui needed was special treatment. She would feel even more isolated if they acted anything less than normal around her now.

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pros of being pope:

  •  the vatican provides for your necessities 
  • you live in the heart of the holy faith and you are the head of god’s bride the church on earth 
  • you have the keys to heaven and hell and can bind and loose and all that rot
  • mat pat gives you undertale for free

cons of being pope:

  1. you dont have anything to play undertale on and you cant buy it bc you dont get paid and you give up all your worldly possessions
  2. you have to write everything in fucking latin
  3. you have to give audiences and talks like all the time 
  4. you might get murdered or accidentally start a schism and have to deal with an antipope or two along the way
  5. everyone hates you like no matter what you do someone will be Violently Opposed to you
  6. you have to run the largest organized religion in the world and it’s a fucing ridiculous one
  7. you’re answerable to God for literally Every Single Person On Earth
  8. and everything else tbh
9

NARUTO秘伝の収納BOXカッコイイ!! アニメイトにて暁秘伝買ってきてスタンプラリー特典のナルト秘伝全巻収納BOX頂いてきた!6ヶ月長かったけど大満足!!

Just the other day, after buying the last hiden novel Akatsuki Hiden and after completing all 6 animate stamps, we were finally able to claim our reward! Yes, the Naruto Hiden Limited Edition Storage Box!! The cover of the box is that illustration from the 7th Character Popularity Poll being published with manga chapter 531. At first, we thought that it was too small, but it wouldn’t make sense if they’d give us a box that wouldn’t fit all 6 hidens right? Well, you just have to ensure that the books are in fair condition, if not as good as new, and without loose bindings and/or worn out pages to make them all fit inside the box.