blunt the knives is the best

Dream Daddy High School/College AU

WRITERS NOTE: I can’t actually write and it’s 3 AM, so most of the ideas are fairly vague and are not very elaborate. Honestly, I can’t really remember any smaller details about each of the dad’s. 

Please tell me if something is getting to OC and feel free to send me any ideas and I might make a master post if this gains any interest (which I doubt, I just need to get this written down before I forget)

Craig Cahn - a literal human trash bag (filled with trash, he is not trash), surprisingly okay-ish grades, fantastic procrastinator, lethargic and indecisive AF, really good at beer pong, eats in class, great actor, gets in trouble for using slang in his essays and being late for class every day

Hugo Vega - on the wrestling team, an Advanced Placement student, fond of wine (regardless of his age), surprisingly strong, grew out of his childhood lactose intolerance (I did, it was really nice), works at a library or bookstore but ends up hiding in the back to read (I did this), gets in trouble for calling out the staff and students when they get facts wrong

Damien Bloodmarch - (I don’t know when he transitioned, but I’ll use he/him) a classy goth, but he’s still a poor student (I can relate to this on a personal level), closeted anime fan, is/was a pescetarian in HS before becoming a full fledged vegetarian, has really nice cursive (probably uses a fountain pen), is tired of people calling his cloak a cape, gets in trouble for telling people off who call him Emo (also me)

Mat Sella - a music/band student (obviously), probs a stoner, but he like, doesn’t suck? (you know the type, I hope), barista at the local coffee shop but it’s not local because he doesn’t want to see his classmates, hates people touching his instruments (I feel you), his headphones/earbuds are practically grafted to him, gets in trouble for smuggling cats into the dorms/classes and for listing to music, singing, or humming in class

Brian Harding - an amazing cook, a shop kid, great for camping trips, super competitive (obviously), great at anything involving cards (ex. poker, and go fish), part of the gardening club, a handy man, gets in trouble for unknowingly provoking other kids and staff

Robert Small - the delinquent, is street smart, junior con man, all his papers are about cryptids, fond of whiskey (regardless of his age), will protect his leather jacket with his life, will deny that he wears eyeliner (based off of angsty teen Dan Avidan from Game Grumps, his voice actor), the best liar, gets in trouble for his jokes,  bringing knives to school and getting into fights when people call him short/small (I HC that he’s the shortest dad, I think I saw it somewhere)

Joseph Christiansen- the President of the Bible study club every Thursday, is/was a Scout, the top student in Baking 101, charismatic AF, very honest, though a little overbearing, rides his skateboard to school/class, brings baked goods to school to give out, gets in trouble for causing drama because he critiqued their outfit or he was too blunt

You’re Hurt (Dick Grayson x female reader)

Prompt(s): 10. B. “You idiot!” - “I know.”  

Pairing: Dick Grayson x reader

Words: 1676

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, mentions of torture

Notes: I don’t know…just an idea that popped into my head.

Originally posted by dcbatmanandjoker

Originally posted by kenihewa

“Nightwing, you better hope I don’t get out of these bonds,” you growled. You and Nightwing had been on a mission together and, as per always, it went sideways. Only halfway through did you realize that had been Nightwing’s plan the whole time to get captured. Oh, you were ready to pulverize the idiot.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. It’s not like they’re going to kill us,” which was the precise moment that the two most annoying villains decided to enter the room.

“Oh, that sound like a,” the Joker’s voice changed from a upbeat tone to a darker one, “great idea.”

“You two have been a pain in the ass these last couple of years. Moreso that the Bat himself. You’re going to die… but not before we have some fun,” Two-Face states as he smirks at the both of you.

“You idiot,” you harshly whispered to Dick.

He sighed and quietly replied, “I know.”

“I hope you have a plan to get us out of this considering it’s your fault we’re in this mess because of you.”

“Of course I have a plan.”

“You don’t have a plan,” you deadpanned.

“It’s a work in progress,” he replied.

“I don’t think we need both of them, Twosie,” Joker laughed, “how about we kill the girl!”

“Not yet, Joker. We still need them. Grab her, she’s step one.”

You fought against the bonds as you saw Nightwing doing the same, “you think she’ll be able to give you what you want? There’s no way. I know more than she ever will,” he was shouting.

Joker cruelly smiled at you, “we’re going to have so. Much. Fun,” his voice was deep and dark as he grabbed your hair and pulled you (and the chair you were in) behind him.


You hadn’t made a noise the whole time they beat you other than the occasional grunt. Joker was getting pretty frustrated and taking it out on you. “If you just scream, it’ll end.”

“In your-” you panted, “fucked up” you took a deep breath “dreams.”

You don’t remember what happened next. You don’t know how much time passed but you finally became aware of your surroundings again. You bit your lip hard as every part of your body screamed at you when you moved. “Are you awake,” Dick asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered and looked over to him. He wore look that conveyed how guilty he felt. You sighed, “it’s not your fault. I went along with you on this mission even at the insistence I stay back. Sounds like they would have come to get me anyway. So stop blaming yourself.”

“Y/H/N, they almost killed you in there. That’s on me-”

“No, that’s on me. I couldn’t get out of my bonds. I was unable to fight against them. I didn’t even try much after-it was my fault, not yours,” you stated. You angled your head to be able to look at Dick, wincing as it pulled sore muscles. “I’m alive. That’s what matters.Now stop feeling guilty and figure out how to get us out of here.”


Your fight against your bonds were futile as they took Dick away. All you ended up doing was injuring yourself more. You knew what you’d been put through in that room…it was a very likely assumption that they would do a lot worse to him. Even after he was gone, you continued to fight against the bonds. You had to get out and stop this before they actually decided to kill you both.

You knew what they were doing. You had seen the camera during your session with the two villains. They were either livestreaming to the Justice League and Young Justice, or they were filming it to send it to the two teams.

Part of you hoped they had been livestreaming it. That gave the teams a chance to find you both. Both teams had prized hackers and with them working together, they’d be able to find you in no time…unless Two-Face and Joker had outside help as well.

You felt your bonds give slightly and you laughed quietly to yourself. There was no telling when or if the Justice League and yours and Dick’s team would find you, you best start rescuing yourself and Grayson. Once your hand was free, you freed the rest of yourself.

You forced away the pain as you stood and made it to the door. You reached for it, silently praying that it wasn’t locked. The door opened and you stared at it for a second; did the villains learn nothing in all their fights and capturings of different heroes?

You glanced around before heading down the right passage. You guessed that they would take Grayson to the same room they had taken you earlier.

You were right. As you reached it, you peeked in, seeing Dick chained to the ceiling (much like you were) and Joker heavily going at him. There were quite a few more grunts on his end…but you could see why. They were more abusive towards him than you.

You looked for Two-Face, finding him behind the camera. You looked for other entrances or exits, but found none other than the one you were next to. You quickly and quietly slipped in when Harvey wasn’t looking and hid in the shadows. You had to time this right, or you’d end up getting yourself and Grayson killed.

You wanted to take out Joker first. To stop him from hurting Grayson even more, but if you attacked him first, Harvey would have a clear shot of both you and Grayson and could kill either one of you. If you went after Harvey first, Joker could easily kill Grayson. You didn’t want to bet on his obsession with Nightwing to save your best friend…to save the man you had fallen in love with.

You glanced over at the torture tools. There were multiple knives…if you could grab a couple of those, you could repel Joker backwards and keep Harvey occupied. You had learned how to throw knives when you were seven. You had never thought it would come in handy because it always made Bruce nervous to have you carry knives (you’d almost killed someone who had hurt both Dick and Damian and just couldn’t stop yourself). Your weapon of choice had become a blunt katana…but obviously, you didn’t have that on you currently.

You flinched slightly as you heard Dick’s pain through his grunt. You didn’t have time to make a plan for this all to work. You jumped out and grabbed four of the knives, throwing one at Joker’s left shoulder to push him away from Grayson. You threw one at Harvey that knocked him to the ground.

You ignored your pain and jumped on Joker, sinking another knife into his right shoulder and ramming it into the ground. You whirled around in time to meet Harvey’s fist. You stumbled backwards, the last knife in a defensive stance. You could see Dick struggling to get out of his chains as you looked over to Joker who was beginning to try to get the knives out of his shoulders.

You jumped over Harvey, kicking his back and making him stumble into the wall in front of him. You had one shot. Either nail Harvey with the knife, or free Grayson. You turned on your toes and shot the knife across the room, hitting the mechanism that held Grayson’s chains up and caught him as he fell.

You quickly turned so you were in the line of Harvey’s attack instead of Grayson. A soft grunt left your lips as you turned to him and fought to keep him away from you and Grayson. You periodically looked over to Joker, making sure he hadn’t moved yet.

You got knocked back and into the chains. You gripped them tightly and waited for Harvey to attack you. You saw Grayson over at the camera and computer, most likely trying to get a signal out to the Justice League, or even just Batman himself.

You brought the chains up and wrapped them around Harvey’s neck as he came at you. You started to choke him, repeatedly getting thrown into a wall while on his back. He slowly sunk to the ground and you hopped off of him, coming face to face with the Joker and the two knives you had nailed him with.

You flipped away and evaded him as much as possible. “Come on, little girl, don’t you want to play?” He caught your arm and threw you into a wall across the room. The air left your lungs and it took you a minute to get your surroundings back enough to push yourself up. You were met with a burning on your left arm as you saw a knife cut across your skin.

“Any time now,” you grunted as you were thrown backwards, “Nightwing!”

Before the Joker could land another blow to your body, Dick was throwing him away from you. “Get out of here,” Dick stated.

“Not without you.”

“Damn it (Y-”

“Nightwing. I don’t leave a team member behind.”


You looked across the room to the bed Grayson was in. He was currently trying to get out of the bed. “You’re suppose to be resting.”

“There’s work to be done. I can’t just sit here and rest.”

“You’re no good to anyone hurt.”

“I can’t just do nothing.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

“No you’re not.” You started pushing up and undoing all of your wires. “(Y/N), stop. You need to heal.”

“Funny, I know you need to do the same, but if you’re going to go get yourself killed, I might as well come with you.”

“Why do you always do this,” he asked, his movements stopping.

You rolled your eyes. “I care about you. I’m not about to let you hurt yourself more than you already are. I don’t like seeing you hurt, okay?”


deer-gak77  asked:

can you write a short fic about some of the characters (preferably Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley) reenacting the Blunt the Knives song on the great hall? It's alright if you don't want to!

oh dear, i think i’ve cracked three ribs laughing at this…The emergency room can wait, I have to write this now. Thank you, dear friend, this is probably the best request i’ve ever gotten, I only hope I do it justice. 

heres the song for those who haven’t experienced the work of art that is the Hobbit

Percy Weasley had two problems; Christmas and his siblings. 

Most people would not think that Christmas was a problem, but to Gryffindor’s Head Boy, it was. Especially when his siblings were in a particularly festive mood. 

There was so much to be done; ensuring that the students staying at the castle were kept in line, delegating prefects to do certain jobs for decorating the Great Hall (he couldn’t do any of that dilly-dallying himself, he simply didn’t have enough time), keeping a close eye on the First Years…there was so much to do and he could not be distracted by his trouble-craving siblings. Dumbledore was relying on him. He had to make sure that everything was perfect and not an explosion of utter chaos.

At the same time, he was the eldest Weasley at Hogwarts, he owed it to his parents to ensure his siblings were behaving. But no matter what he did, trouble seemed to follow them like a shadow. Fred and George, with their silly games and pranks that amused just about everyone for reasons beyond him. So foolish Percy thought, as he turned the corner, they’ll never learn. 

Then, there was Ron, who spent his time gallivanting with Harry Potter instead of focusing on his education. Unlike the twins, Ron wasn’t born a troublemaker, rather, he was inspired by Harry’s thirst for adventure. Harry was like a compass, always pointing toward danger, and Ron followed Harry wherever it led him. It was never Harry’s fault, though, Harry always had good intentions. 

As for Ginny, well, she chose to idolise the wrong people. In Percy’s opinion, she would have learnt better by following his lead and not the twins. He was Head Boy, after all, and Ginny would blossom into a young woman under Percy’s guidance. The twins just encouraged rebellion, that was certain. 

As he walked down the stairs toward the Great Hall, two second years emerged from behind the large doors, giggling to themselves. Percy would usually have ignored this, but there was something very peculiar about the way they were staring at him. Percy frowned, throwing out his chest importantly. 

“Is something the matter?” he asked, approaching them, “You can tell me, I am Head Boy.” 

“Isn’t that what it says on your badge?” One girl giggled, “If you’re going to tell everyone, what’s the point of wearing it?” 

Both of the girls burst into a fit of giggles. Percy would have uttered something back in defence of his bruised ego if it weren’t for the fact that it sounded exactly like something Fred and George would say. Sweeping past them, he stomped toward the Great Hall and pushed open the doors, just managing to dodge a red ornament zooming through the air. 

It was…chaos. 

They, whoever they were (there was so many things to look at, Percy couldn’t focus on the faces responsible for this mess), had decided to play some…foot game (Percy wasn’t sure how to describe it) using all the Christmas decorations and cutlery. His eyes scanned the Great Hall. There was Fred and George, of course they were here, they were magnetised to anything illegal. There was Lee Jordan, their friend, cheering them on. And then, there was Ron, Ginny, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finigan, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Harry and – he couldn’t believe it – Hermione! All running around the Great Hall like a herd of lunatics, red-faced and laughing. 

“What is going on in here!” Percy roared and they all paused, turning to face him. Fred beamed. 

“Harry’s teaching us how to play – erm, what did you say it was now – football! Come and join us, Percy!” 

“It’s a muggle game,” Harry explained, stepping toward him cautiously, “It’s a lot of fun!”  

Percy thought the top of his head might blast off. 

“Running – around – using – expensive – ornaments – like – toys – what – would – Dumbledore – say – he – trusted – me –” 

“I think Dumbledore would join us!” said George, courageously, “It’s Snape you want to look out for…” 


“Why? Because you’re Head Boy?” 

Percy spluttered. He had never felt more angry in his life. What would all the teachers think of him? He was supposed to be in charge of the decoration process. 


Hermione gulped, Neville was trembling. Ginny, however, was wearing a smirk. 

“You’re right, Perce,” said Ginny, her eyebrow cocked wickedly. He didn’t like the look she was giving him. It was the same one the twins wore when they were planning something devious. “Let’s clean all this up.” 

Fred and George gave her a funny look but when they saw her expression, a mischievous grin etched across their faces, too. Picking up a plate, each, they tossed it toward Ginny. She caught with ease and began piling them. 

“Wha–? No! Stop tossing the plates at once!” Percy snapped. 

But he was completely ignored. Lee, Seamus and Dean were throwing ornaments between each other, kicking them toward Fred and George, who began tossing them into boxes. 

Ornaments soared through the air as Harry and Ron began to join in and Neville and Luna began scraping the cutlery as though there were some imaginary rhythm between them. Hermione seemed to be the only one looking somewhat worried, but she didn’t try to stop them. 

“Stop that at once!” Percy screamed, “You’ll blunt the knives!” 

“Oooh, did you hear that? Percy reckons we’ll blunt the knives!” George laughed, “Blunt the knives, bend the forks, smash the bottles and burn the corks!”

“Chip the glasses and crack the plates that’s what Percy Weasley hates!” sang Fred. Percy jabbed a finger at them and opened his mouth to growl at them, but Ron beat him to it, singing along with the tune. 

“Cut the cloth, trail the fat, leave the bones on the bedroom matt. Pour the milk on the pantry floor, splash the wine on every door!” 

“Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl, pound them up with a thumping pole,” Ginny sang. “And when you’ve finished if they are whole, send them down the hall to roll!”

All four Weasleys raised their voices for the last sentence of the song, wearing proud grins as they did so. 

“That’s what Percy Weasley hates!” 

Laughter erupted between them all, except Hermione, who was eying Percy as though he were a grenade ready to explode. Anger surged through him like something deadly, something fierce, ready to burst from his mouth. He opened his mouth, ready to roar, but someone clapping behind him interrupted him and he spun on his heels, face red, fists clenched and chest heaving. 

But all anger escaped him and all he was left with was shame and embarrassment, for Professor Dumbledore was standing right behind him. The Headmaster was wearing a small smile, his blue eyes twinkling like two gems planted behind his half-moon glasses. Hagrid and Professor McGonagall was standing behind him. Hagrid joined in, applauding the group of misfits while Professor McGonagall was wearing a (rare) wry smile. Percy’s eyes travelled behind the group of teachers to find most of the students left in the castle crowded around them, cheering and begging for an encore. 

Percy wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Sir….let me explain…” 

“No need, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore, calmly, “That was quite a performance! Five points to Gryffindor!” 

Percy gaped at Professor Dumbledore. Instead of taking points, he added them! Percy turned his gaze sharply toward his siblings. Every one of their freckle-sprinkled faces was beaming with pride. Fred and George bowed, dramatically. Hermione laughed nervously while Ron slung an arm around Harry. 


“I only hope your siblings will be able to come up with something as creative next year, Mr. Weasley, As you won’t be here to instruct them!” Dumbledore smiled. 

“W-Well, I mean, I g-guess…” Percy stuttered, abashed. 

“Yes, well, what a wonderful family you have, Mr. Weasley. What a wonderful family indeed…” 

gahhh i hope this was okay? 

Despite my best filtering and blacklisting efforts I still see a few calls to violently attack fascists on my dashboard every day. Practically all of them specifically call for beating up fascists with a baseball bat. 

I wonder what it is about baseball bats. Is it that they’re household items? But steak knives are moreso, and I haven’t seen any calls to stab fascists with your steak knives. Is it that blunt force trauma is less physically dramatic, so calls for it feel less like calls for premeditated murder?

Because let’s be really fucking clear: you can kill someone with a baseball bat. If you really went out on the streets and beat people up with a baseball bat you would likely kill some and inflict permanent brain damage on others. And, of course, killing people by accident in the course of beating them up on purpose is murder.

Maybe some of those people endorse that. But since I haven’t seen widely reblogged enthusiastic calls to shoot fascists point-blank in the drive-thru, or carry a steak knife so you can stab them, I can’t help but wonder if some of those people don’t endorse that, if they mistakenly believe that they’re calling for some sort of tamer, less homicidal flavor of violence.

Or maybe that’s too optimistic and lots of people on tumblr think extrajudicial murders of people for their political views are how to build a society in which marginalized people can be safe.

(I think the real answer is that these posts are not supposed to be taken at face value: ‘beat up fascists with a baseball bat’ means ‘I dislike fascists really emphatically’, not ‘beat up fascists with a baseball bat’. But some people will take them at face value, and other people will have to plan for their own safety around the assumption that others might be taking them at face value, and by being impossible to distinguish from actual calls by murderers to commit murder they provide those with cover. I believe that these posts are evil and indefensible, no matter how metaphorically intended.)


A Cosplay weekend, Part Two~

Sunday was terribly sunny and hot, really hot, and we were in this wonderful garden of Sigurtà, for being part of the animation of this cosplay event.
Here I finally meet in person my lovely lovely brothaH ame-sun-3 <3 I already show you the lovely photos we made together and I can’t tell how happy I was to finally have some durincest photo..! *D*
There also were a place for renting a caddy… and… obviously we did it xD So you can have an idea of what this mean to have a caddy in a garden with Thorin, Fili and Kili in it singing misty mountain, blunt the knives and all the songs of the film while cosplay and tourists were taking a photo of us or just don’t understanding what the hell was going on… the perfection <3
At the end we had a little shooting, and I fear the result because… well it was the end of the day and I was so sweaty (ugh) and tired, my expression was just “let me take a shower pls” I really really fear ahah <3
Anyway it was and amazing day, also the best durincest day ever <3

…And then I slept for something like 12 hours >8D

Home NOT Alone - 03, Blunt the Knives

I have this canon in my head, that Anakin and Obi Wan always quarrel, one way or another, about the exact amount of times Ani saved Obi Wan. And since their both warriors and we all knew what kind of reckless hot-head Ani is… Having them at dinner, quarrelling with knives at hand’s reach doesn’t have to be the best of the situations.
So, Padmé decided to get rid of them, lest having home ruined for knife-throwing, the twins scared (Luke maybe, Leia could probably try to calm all down) and a peaceful dinner gone.

I’ve made a mistake in the lettering: in Episode III the guessed numbers of savings is Ten/Nine, I remembered bad! y_y
I’m sorry, don’t notice the mistake! è.é

And Leia’s reading (I don’t know if it’s readable): “Falcon Manutention in 5 minutes”. Because of reasons. u_u

Hope you like it!! ^O^

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candy-coated-fury  asked:

How well would soft armor (ballistic vests, thick padded jackets, etc) fare against something like a baton or pipe? I know knives will cut through them with ease, but how well do blunt objects go through?

Honestly, the best street wear option against a blunt weapon would probably be motorcycle gear. That stuff is designed to take hitting the pavement at speed and keeping you in (more or less) one piece. Technically, it’s not “soft armor,” since it’s reinforced with solid plates. But it’s in the same general area.

That said, any padding will help against blunt force trauma. But, all a normal padded winter coat will help deal with is unarmed strikes. It won’t really protect you from a crowbar or baton. It will protect some, just not enough to matter.

With a Kevlar vest, I’m not sure how rigid those things are specifically. If you’re taking a blow directly to the chest, it should absorb some of the force, though I’m not sure exactly how much. ProRonin and Skypig would be the people to quantify that.

Except, it probably doesn’t really matter, because of how people actually use blunt weapons.

The common attacks with blunt weapons are strikes to the shoulders, arms, and head. You draw back and strike in towards the silhouette of your target. …and a Kevlar vest doesn’t protect any of those areas. It’s designed to save you when someone tries to shoot you in the chest, not when they’re swinging a baseball bat at your head.

You can perform a thrusting attack with a pipe, but, if you know someone else is wearing armor, it would make more sense to just strike around it. Incidentally, you can’t perform a thrusting attack with most telescopic batons, since you collapse them by striking against a hard surface. Incidentally, a quick thrusting strike is one of the most devastating things you can do with a baseball bat in combat. It delivers most of the force in a fast short motion that’s almost impossible to avoid. But, the kind of person that knows to do that is also probably the kind of person that would choose to strike around armor.

I would be genuinely surprised if a vest actually offers less protection against a knife than a leather jacket or shirt, but, some of the same considerations apply. Knife fights usually end based on injuries to the arm before following into a killing strike at an angle that would bypass a Kevlar vest, rather than trying to stab through it. And, while I’m not completely certain, I’m pretty sure an “aim for the kidneys” shanking from behind can be performed at an angle to bypass a vest.

Ultimately, we’re talking about trying to use the wrong kind of armor for the situation. Most riot gear won’t protect you from someone shooting at you, but it does wonders for someone coming at you with a sledgehammer.

The opposite is true of Kevlar. If someone’s shooting at you (and they’re far enough away), it should keep you breathing, but it’s just not going to help you when dealing with someone armed with a baseball bat, frying pan, or whatever else they managed to dredge up from their home.


Wednesday, December 23, 2015

I must first recognize this mask
if it is to be removed,
each slowly-applied layer from
soccer practice drills, school dances,
Lost crushes, my best friend from elementary school died—did you know?
Or the boy down the street who lusted so
gleefully my tiny body,
or the knives I hid in the drawer of my father’s room—where we shared a bunk—
each coat must be gently removed,
not with the blunt edge of a scissor, or
harsh words from forgotten friends
I first must recognize this mask—
these horrible disfigured defenses.