this man has magical powers


Give me that role reversal AU with Prince Merlin where Arthur doesn’t have magic, is a deposed Uther Pendragon’s son and somehow becomes Merlin’s fakely magical manservant with a bitchy Gaius in tow. Arthur is the one who has to hide his identity as Once and Future King because… his friend Merlin is Crown Prince.

Give me Arthur pretending to have magic through science and sheer problem solving ability. Or how he doesn’t get credit for doing difficult things because he’s supposed to have magic anyway. And how much he adores watching Merlin do frivolous, beautiful magics  that he can’t even dream of doing.

Give me Arthur hiding Excalibur in his room when he’s not using it to defeat Undead Knights or plotting High Priestesses. Tell me about Merlin not knowing he’s Emrys, and just being a chilled out Prince who doesn’t know that Arthur has no magic at all and is actually in constant danger All The Time.

And bonus chalice, because Nimueh and Morgause are the evil queens of Camelot who don’t want to see the prophecy come true.

crossbonesandcutlery  asked:

Tell us about santa and why he has 8 reindeer!


Santa? Is Odin. With a bit of the Turkish Saint Nicholas plastered over top to make him more acceptable to Christianity. 

Let’s wind this back a bit. 

So. In Norse tradition, Odin rose with the wild hunt on Midwinter. Children would leave out offerings of hay or root vegetables in their shoes for Slepnir, Odin’s horse. In norse tradition, all gifts create an obligation that must be returned in kind, so if Odin found the offerings pleasing he would leave treats and sweets in return. 

So. We have a magical bearded man riding through the sky on a winter feast day and leaving treats for children in footwear if they pleased him. Sound familiar? Yeah.

As for Slepnir, Odin’s mount? He has eight legs. So. Bearded man with powerful magic flying through the air on an eight-legged steed on a winter feast day and leaving treats for children in their footwear if they pleased him. 


Enter Christianity. Now, the midwinter season is important to all cultures that live in cold climates. The passing of the worst of the hard times and the beginning of the longer days and the promise of the return of life and light and fertility is a powerful thing. There were Christian festival days around the same time as Midwinter was celebrated in many polytheistic faiths. Christians found that they couldn’t get people to stop celebrating the feast days they’d been celebrating for several thousand years, so opted instead to just absorb those traditions into their OWN midwinter festivals. It was a far easier and more effective way of convincing people to convert.

So. The tradition of Odin leaving gifts hung on, in a far different form. This was helped by the legend of Saint Nicholas, a Turkish man who inherited a large amount of wealth and who was known and beloved for his habit of slipping money to poor people via leaving it in their stockings as they were hung out to dry after wash day, or by dropping it down their chimneys. This was similar enough to the old Odin myth of leaving gifts in footwear to paste right over top of the older stories with relative ease. So, the man delivering gifts became not Odin, but St. Nick, who delivered gifts via stocking and chimney. 

However, the idea of him flying through the sky, being associated with elves, possessing powerful magic, and the eight-legged steed stuck. (reindeer, incidentally, are an animal with a lot of symbol and power in Norse tales. Ullr, the god of the hunt, had ties to reindeer, and at some point the eight legged horse became eight reindeer.)

Incidentally the image of Santa as a chubby little jolly man didn’t come around until modern advertising began depicting him that way. Before that? A tall, strong man, usually with a staff (echoing Odin’s staff or spear). 

So. There you have it. Santa, the jolly bearded old man of beloved childhood Christmas memories? If you ever wondered where he came from in a ‘Christian’ holiday, there’s your answer. He didn’t. He’s the amalgamation of an ancient Norse god and a Middle Eastern saint, filtered through the lens of pop culture. 

Jim Butcher actually did this very well in the Dresden Files, where Odin makes several appearances, one wearing the mantle of Father Christmas. 

Christianity never really managed to make the old gods vanish. 

“Hope is a far cry from a French Quarter fortune teller”

 a French Quarter fortune teller

a French Quarter fortune teller

a French Quarter fortune-


WELL if you hold the Quarter and its witches in so much contempt why the fuck are you in New Orleans trying to establish some empire or whatever the fuck your family has been doing for the past few seasons hmm????

GOD i swore i wouldn’t rant about this show and it’s bald faced anti blackness because WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT but goddamn “french quarter fortune teller” was the last mfking straw.

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Glutton’s Fork Special


“What?!” I hear you cry, looking wildly at his post, “There’s another recipe?! Already?! But how?!” 

I know, I know - I’m as surprised as you all are, trust me. I’m not usually this ardently productive, especially when the fate of the world isn’t even at stake or anything. But I found inspiration from all of my fans and your fabulous support of my work! 

Also, I’m, like, a really really good chef. But we knew that. 

I’ll admit, finding the inspiration to crank out another platinum record award winning culinary chart topper took a bit of doing.  I wanted to keep this fantasy Michelin star shower going, but nothing was coming to me. It sucked! 

But then that moment of terrible frustration and annoyance at unsolved puzzles reminded me of something - my adventures! Specifically, mine (and Magnus and Merle’s) heroic and arduously long jaunt through Lucas Miller’s crystalline hell lab. Which reminded me of the second least awful moment in there (second only to my tentacle hentai spectacular ft The Actual Grim Reaper). And what better way to…mmm…crystalize…this wonderful moment than to share it all with you in the form of a far less deadly recipe! That’s right folks, today’s dish is…

Glutton’s Fork Special - The Philosopher's Stone

I’ll go ahead and throw a disclaimer on this one right now and cut off that frantic message you’re about to send me - don’t worry, this is only one version of this dish.  There will be a vegetarian friendly version, The Falafeler’s Stone, at some later date. Probably also a version of The Philosopher’s Scone. Because if a single moment can produce multiple Merle-level puns, then on my honor as an adventurer and a celebrity chef, I’m pretty obligated to make all of them.  

Moving on.  This one is a bit more complex than the last, so I hope you’ve gotten a chance to level up and throw some more points towards your wis modifier, so keep up.

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Who you should fight: Paleontologists edition
  • Bob Bakker: He will kick your ass and take your girlfriend. Do not engage at all costs.
  • Jack Horner: Will attempt to weaponize mutant dinosaurs, and will fail at this task. Remind yourself of Chickenosaurus when you feel guilty about waling on an old man.
  • E. D. Cope: Makes up for the weakness of his attacks by sheer quantity. While he will lose in the end, he will have dealt lasting damage.
  • O. C. Marsh: Like Cope, but slightly more successful. Try to engage both at once, as they will target each other instead of you.
  • Thomas Carr: Will pull his punches at first, but this is only because he is meticulously preparing to utterly destroy you. Do not fight.
  • Franz Nopcsa: As difficult to fight as his name is to pronounce.
  • Roy Chapman Andrews: This man is basically Indiana Jones, if Indiana Jones had a flesh-eating hippopotamus. Hiding and hoping he thinks you're in Mongolia is your best chance for survival.
  • Mary Anning: A lifetime of dealing with the patriarchy has made her dangerous. Approach her kindly, or not at all if you're a dude.
  • William Buckland: I dunno, man, the guy's devoured a human heart and probably has dark magic powers. Avoid at all costs.
  • Mike Taylor: He's far from spineless, that's for sure. Overall, a fair fight.
  • Alan Feduccia: Despite the weakness of his attacks, he is inexplicably difficult to defeat. Ignoring him is probably the better option.
  • David Peters: Will probably attempt to use photoshop to determine your battle plan. When this inevitably fails, he will be easily defeated.
  • Thomas Holtz: I can't imagine why you would want to fight Thomas Holtz. Share memes with him instead.
  • Gideon Mantell: The poor man could use a break. Don't fight Mantell, he has enough to deal with between Richard Owen and scoliosis.
  • Richard Owen: Nobody is going to stop you, and most people would even encourage you. However, you WILL lose. Do not fight Richard Owen.

He’s not familiar with affection. He’s not intimate with the gesture called kisses. He’s seen it. He knows what they are, but he’s never felt it. Secretly, in a dirty, carnal place inside him, he wants to.

When Mr. Graves plants his hands on him, he whimpers. It’s a warmth that reaches too deep inside him. His skin is dry and pale and he knows he looks like a ghost, but he also knows how much the other man’s touch affects him. Brings him life. Brings blood to the surface, a flush to white canvas like spilled wine. He feels as heady, like Mr. Graves’ very touch intoxicates him. It’s addictive.

He never realized how cold he’s been, until the man’s fingers brushed over his skin. And when the kisses come - Credence almost weeps from the warmth, life and joy that brings him. Never felt so wanted, so rooted. His breath is lost and he feels like he’s high in the sky. He clutches to the older man, afraid he is just a dream and all these sensations are just products of his imagination, torturous illusions conjured by the devils of his mind.  

Mr Graves’ words are sin, Credence thinks, but it’s a sin that is too good to let go. He wonders what will become of him, when he dies and is brought before the angels for judgment. Is it really wrong to enjoy what is given, and brings him happiness? He knows his thoughts are blasphemy and he shudders, fearing damnation and hellfire.

Yet with each passing day he yearns and wishes for the man and his magic. Not the sorcery that the man has displayed, but the power he has in bringing Credence to his knees, whimpering and weeping from his tenderness.

So I was in the autograph queue for Colin at Fairytales 3 and there was a girl about 4 in front of me who was obviously starting to be a bit overwhelmed by the beautiful man in front of her.

Colin started saying something like “I don’t want to see you cry, no no no, no crying…” in a proper concerned dad voice. And he had a lovely warm smile on his face as he looked her in the eyes and told her not to cry. It was so cute and apparently worked because the girl didn’t burst into tears. 

Is this man even real?

Fic: Klaine Advent Day 2: “Broadway”

A/N: I’m going to write a continuous story in 24 chapters throughout the month. It’s gonna have a title too as soon as I can think of one. I’m going to put it up on the AO3 then too.

Previous chapter: anniversary

Blaine’s Saturday ends up being quite good. He doesn’t join Sam and Mercedes, who seem to be doing fine without him. Instead, he hangs out at the counter, has a cronut that Sam pays for and a piece of cheesecake that Kurt recommends. He also has a lot of coffee, and a lot of really amazing conversation.

Kurt has the best sense of humor, he’s smart, his laugh is the most beautiful sound Blaine has ever heard, and he has excellent taste in music and television. They never run out of things to talk about, and Kurt always comes back to him when his tables are quiet. It’s a slow day anyway since classes only start next week and the usual NYU theater crowd that hangs out here is only just trickling back into the city over the weekend.

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For the past two seasons I have said that I dislike the way Doctor Who is going, that I don’t approve of the writing choices and the blatant sexism of the dialogue. I’ve disliked it, and I’ve blogged about it, but I’ve kept watching. I’ve kept watching because of the Doctor, because of the history of the show, because of the wonder and the magic of a man who has the power to destroy everything in all of space and time but instead just wants to see it and share it with someone ordinary. 

And that’s what Moffat’s been counting on, I think, this idea that regardless of what he does, the core fanbase will continue to watch the show, continue to buy merchandise, continue to support him because of what Doctor Who is. He no longer feels as though he is being held accountable by his fans, and so he sees no need to justify his character development or his underdeveloped, convoluted storylines. He knows we’ll watch his stories no matter what, and so he feels no motivation to make them good, or sensible. Because nothing’s going to happen if he doesn’t.

But I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough one-liners where I am the punchline. I’ve had enough senseless plots and one-off villains smashed into places they don’t fit. I’ve had enough of seeing the Doctor turn into someone I would be scared to be alone with, someone whose hands wander and brain slides past “don’t touch me.”

I’ve lost my raggedy man, my sad-hearted wanderer, my Doctor, and in place of the Time Lord who ran away with someone who needed the stars is a leering man who sees women as mysteries to be solved, his Impossible Girls, all of them in love with him and all of them weak. 

And that was it. That’s as far as it goes. I wish Peter Capaldi the best of luck, and I know he will do as wonderfully with whatever words he is given as Matt Smith did with his. But I will only watch him speak those words if they aren’t written by Steven Moffat. I will not watch the new season of Doctor Who. That’s all. I’m done. No more chances. 

anonymous asked:

How much personal growth do you think Mulder can really do in six episodes? He's supposed to be devolved when this begins.

Well, there IS supposed to be a time gap of several months between episodes 1 and 2. And if he sleeps with Scully early in the revival he’ll instantly evolve into a sensitive, renaissance man. Scully’s vagina has magical powers.

niall lynch = glendower, or ronan = glendower

here are clips from king henry iv, comparing shakespeare’s text with modern english

so maybe, in this case, niall’s birth parallels glendowers? there’s not much info on glendower, truly, so i bet at least some of maggie’s insp came from king henry iv.


here glendower speaks of how he is not a normal man; how he is magical, how he has powers. pulling spirits from the deep is somewhat like pulling objects from a dream, right? a little, haha. but its more than my small cinnamon roll gansey can do…


Remember when Ronan saw Niall talking to the devil?? ????


here, harry percy (aka “hotspur” in king henry iv) a relative of glendower through marriage, not blood, is speaking of how glendower angers him by speaking of all these things. notice especially dreamer and raven. there are other theories comparing gansey to hotspur but its much more far fetched.


anyway, that’s the king henry iv + ronan/niall parallels that i thought were interesting