wonder spin

We dangerous ones

Aaah, the Lethifold! One of my favourite creatures from reading the book as a child. Thanks to @zinfandelli for suggesting it as a creature, I was psyched to draw Credence with one. 
(And of course I saw the official design on the bluray just as I was about to start colouring, and had to change up a bunch of stuff from my sketch haha)
Art blog: questionartbox

silly ladynoir things
  • chat starts Shit Talking Sundays bc there are some days when chat just needs to talk about how dumb his dad is being and ladybug needs to scream about this bratty bully in her history class
  • on days when they’re bored, they’ll board the metro in costume and ride it for a few stops purely for the shock value
  • chat finds out ladybug can’t whistle and spends every available opportunity trying to teach her
    • cn: *squishes her cheeks between his hands* you’re not pursing your lips enough and your tongue isn’t positioned correctly, try again
    • lb: my tongue is sitting in my mouth what do you mean it’s not positioned correctly i don’t ???????
  • joint naps during patrols are very much a thing bc these kids never sleep between school and akuma attacks. sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll find ladybug snoring on a rooftop with chat noir laid on top of her, drooling on her shoulder
  • when patrols get boring, ladybug will hop on chat noir’s back, make him shut his eyes, and act as his eyes while they try to patrol the city before switching places. they don’t talk about that time chat was laughing too hard to warn ladybug about the ledge and they almost fell off a roof. 
  • hide and seek games that last literally hours
    • they both cheat and bring their phones to stalk social media tags and see if anyone’s posted tips and/or sightings of them so that they can find the other
  • chat’s really good at massages so sometimes he’ll work out the kinks in ladybug’s shoulders when they have downtime bc “wow you carry so much tension in your neck please tell me you’re not hunched over your desk all day”
  • the eiffel tower is their honorary “it’s 3am and we can’t sleep” meeting place. 
  • they’ll often drop into parks and playgrounds and join with some of the neighborhood kids on games of tag, frisbee, and football
  • they have a going scoreboard for their impromptu arm wrestling competitions. last they checked the score was 32-35 with ladybug in the lead. 
  • they each have their own personal lists of dumb/funny things that the other has said
    • chat’s list of things ladybug has said: “sleep isn’t a thing you know. they lied to you. it’s not real,” “you ever wonder if i can spin a web with my yoyo?” “can lucky charm conjure me an A for this physics test tomorrow?” “i almost had my cat-eye eye liner perfect today before that akuma appeared and messed me up like that proximity to perfection might never happen again.”
    • ladybug’s list of things chat has said: “is there a place where we can borrow a microwave? i wanna see what happens if i use cataclysm on it,” “memes are like the dysfunctional family you didn’t ask for but didn’t know you needed,” “im like terrified an akuma attack is gonna happen when i’m in the shower while im naked and vulnerable,” “if i extend my staff long enough, do you think it’ll reach space?”

a friend of mine won a raffle at work

her and another boy at work

won tickets for the rugby tonight in the hospitality lounge

she’s just posted a post about how she’s just met met Princess Anne

it made me think of zimbits



  • Bitty won tickets to go to a falcs game in the nice box
  • totally random
  • and he’s DYING
  • because thats ALICIA ZIMMERMAN
  • and he’s with Lardo
  • who is being super chill and keeping him from puking
  • and for some reason, he gets into a heated argument over pie with some celebrity tv chef he dislikes over their insistence that it always has to be the bEST stuff
  • and he’s like
  • screw you, do you know how much it costs? to be good? and get good things? I live in a FRAT HOUSE you pompous ass and I bet I could bake circles around you with one hand tied behind my back AND a murder stop and shop run
  • and Bob is like.
  • this
  • this is the one
  • I want this one.
  • Alicia.
  • Please
  • and shes pepper potts
  • No
  • But Jack will love him, I know it!!
  • No
  • Please!!
  • No.
  • *Don’t even pull that elitist crap with me, I learned how to cook like generation before me at the KNEE OF MY MOTHER and I don’t need to go all the way to FRANCE to know that you don’t freeze the damn butter*
  • Alicia is like… well shit. Bobs got heart eyes, no one is watching the hockey and everyone misses Jack getting the winning goal because Lardo has started filming it
  • so jacks a lil pissed with bitty
  • bitty is soaring on righteous fury
  • Bob is trying to convince Lardo he needs a copy of this video
  • and Alicia is wondering if she can spin this into a cooking show for her new network
  • (she can. Bitty hosts a bargain bin / student budget cooking show that is a HUGE hit because he’s super passive agressive about EVERYTHING he uses)
  • *If, like MOST OF AMERICA you live in a place where hand picked olives from Tuscany are not on sale, then store bought is FINE*
  • 50 uses for hot sauce your housemates got while couponing without your guidance.
  • how to make a three course meal for your girlfriend when you can’t cook and you promised her before checking that the oven was even working CHRIS CHOW, using a toaster, a microwave and an inventive use of the spin setting on your washer.
  • when giant canadian hockey butts slander your FOUR TIME COUNTY FAIR WINNING MAPLE CRUSTED PIES and you have to PROVE THEM WRONG. for beginners!
  • *bright smile*
  • When Hockey Butt uses the last of the milk and you’re about to go live on air.
  • when HB admits that he’s not feeling so great and you need to make your mamma’s chicken soup but can’t afford chicken
  • when you are at your wits end because a cute HB is coming over for dinner and you had class all morning and didn’t have time to prep all the food - meet my sous chef Dex!
  • The meal that I served to HB’s parents! First meeting food for the soul - the budget will shock you!
  • and people are like
  • is this the same HB? who was a dick?
  • and now they are dating?! 
The 1 Thing Your Scenes MUST HAVE

Sully is a good representation of how I want people to react when enthralled by a story I’ve written:

But more often than not, I get a reaction more like this:

Or at least, I did. I couldn’t understand why my writing produced these less-than-stellar responses. I had meticulously worded every sentence. I’d made sure there were exciting parts. I had parceled out backstory, setting, and exposition so the reader could understand what the heck was going on. So why did eyes glaze over while reading my book? Why did MY eyes glaze over while reading my own work? 

The problem, I finally found out, was that my scenes didn’t turn. 

I was cramming all that exposition in right out of the gate, so the reader knew absolutely everything … which meant there wasn’t anything to find out. The scenes were just tiny chronicles where the main character set out to do something and accomplished it with flying colors. Nothing ever happened that surprised him. And consequently, nothing ever happened to surprise the reader.  

I wasn’t withholding information, and revealing it methodically. 

I wasn’t letting the story spin in new directions. It was always chugging along the straightforward track where I’d dropped my reader.

I wasn’t letting my scenes TURN.

To illustrate what I mean, here’s an example of a great scene with a great turn from a wonderful movie: Beauty and the Beast

*Opening music that makes me want to cry from how beautiful it is*

Beat 1:

“Once upon a time, in a faraway land a young prince lived in a shining castle…” (Action: Apparently the world takes action to make sure this prince lives a cushy existence.)

“Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind.” (Reaction: And he acts like a brat anyway.)

Beat 2:

“But then, one winter’s night, and old beggar woman came to the castle and offered a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.” (Action)

“Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift, and turned the old woman away.” (Reaction)

Beat 3:

“But she warned him, not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within.” (Action)

“And when he dismissed her again …” (Reaction)

Beat 4:

“The old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.” (Action)

“The prince tried to apologize …” (Reaction) 


Beat 5:

“But it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there.” (Action)

“Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.” (Reaction)

Beat 6:

“The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, that would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn their love in return, by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.” (Action)

“As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope.”  (Reaction)

“For who could ever learn to love a beast?”

Turn: The 6th beat is the turn. The story has spun in a new direction, the direction the WHOLE STORY will motor towards. 

Revelation: There’s the big one of the scene turn, but I love how every action and reaction in this prologue feels like a revelation. Each one feels like it could be a scene on it’s own, but it’s told in a just few words, with beautiful imagery. There’s no fluff in this, nothing unnecessary, everything is perfectly needed. (Sorry, I just really love this opening. I can remember sitting in my little wicker rocking chair when I was four watching this in awe. This movie is one of the reasons I’m story obsessed.)

NOW let’s remove all curiosity and surprise from this scene. 

We’ll take away the atmosphere of “all is not as it seems”, the “seeking and learning significant information” feeling, the sense that we’re climbing to something significant. Instead of withholding and revealing snippets of information, after gradual beat-by-beat escalation of curiosity, we’ll dump all information right away. We’ll take this beautiful scene, and make it distinctly not a scene by removing all traces of a turn.

So! The purpose of this “section” of story is to communicate necessary information. What info? The guy used to be a terrible prince. Someone cursed him to be a beast. His castle and the people who live there are also cursed. He’s got a rose that will bloom until he’s 21. He’s supposed to fall in love with someone and get that person to love him back.  Or he’s going to be a beast forevermore. So, let’s give it a whirl.

Let’s say it opens up on Lumiere and the Beast. They’re just hanging out in the West Wing, the Beast watching the rose sparkle, Lumiere extinguishing and reigniting his left candle/hand for something to do.

LUMIERE: “So Master, it’s been years since you were turned into a beast and the castle staff was turned into objects.”

BEAST: “Yup.”

L: “I wish you hadn’t have upset that enchantress, and been a bit kinder.”

B: “Me too. Don’t know how.”

L: “Now our only hope to return to our human forms, is if you fall in love and get that person to fall in love with you.”

B: *Noncommittal grunt*

L: “Better happen soon, before that last petal on the magical rose falls. When you turn 21, it’s going to fall. And if you haven’t learned to love by then, well, we’re stuck.”

B: “I’m aware." 

L: "Yup.”

B: “Yup.”

Well, that was extraordinarily awful. 

So what about these scenes is different? (Besides one being a work of art and the other being agony in text form.) 

– One withholds information and reveals it slowly, turning the story at the end. 

– One is just an info dump. 

So how can a turn be accomplished?  There are four types of turns: 

– Surprise

– Amplified Curiosity 

– New Insight

– Spin in New Direction

A SURPRISE turn is the difference between what the character expects and what actually happens, surprising them, surprising the reader/audience that is enthralled by your story. A CURIOSITY turn is when a new mystery is presented to the reader, increasing their drive to find out what happens next. An INSIGHT one is when a scene ends by solving a mystery, answering a question that the audience has been wondering about. And a SPIN is just that, a turn that jolts the story into a new unexpected direction.

And how do they work in a scene? 

The turn happens at the end. It’s the point of the scene. Everything’s leading to it. Think of it as the period punctuation mark on the end of the sentence that is your scene. But really your reader is anticipating that turn throughout the scene.
It’s this anticipation and “gradual illumination” that’s crucial to a story turn. This is the wonderful curious feeling that keeps us turning pages. That sense that “all is not as it seems, and if I keep reading I’ll find out the truth.” which is so intoxicating. And this is accomplished with beats, the exchanges of action and reaction, each acting like a escalation on a roller coaster, each increasing anticipation for the drop. 

Turns and revelation anticipation are rather magical when you think about it. They really are (as Robert McKee says) the substance of story. (Or they’re magical to me. I said I was obsessed. Blame this movie!) 

Now I’m going to go watch Beauty and the Beast again.

How many people would lose their minds if Mashima did a Fairy Tail spin-off high school AU after the manga ended? 

Candy Hearts

Requested

Based on the word “Inevitable”


Draco’s eleven.

He’s gasping lungs and cracked open ribs as he clutches the acceptance letter in his pocket and glances up at the frost laced rooftops of Diagon Alley, realizes that there’s an entire world beyond the manor walls and he hadn’t even realized it.

He’s eleven and catching sight of her through shop window reflections like crystal balls. Dragging himself into Florish and Bots because there’s curiosity, no, interest, no, enchantment, maybe, ebbing like magic through the whorls of his fingertips. And she’s in his peripheral, schoolbooks clutched to her chest and smile soft, eyes wide and lashes fluttering. Luminescent in the light filtering through the window.

Draco watches as she rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, strains on her tiptoes to reach a book on one of the higher shelves and –

“Here,” he says, grabs the book and slips it into her hands. Ignores the spark that catches between their fingertips and tugs, oh yes, he’s close enough to see the color of her eyes like rainbows reflected through a prism, the butterfly soft smile that traps itself against her mouth as she meets his eyes –

Says her name, “Y/N,” like wind chimes or a symphony.

And Draco thinks that it might as well be a spell.

___

Draco’s twelve.

He’s glances cast across a classroom, over his shoulder, when he hopes that nobody is looking. Fingers brushing and elbows knocking and, “Excuse me, I didn’t watch where I was going.” He did, and he’d be lying if he said that touching her felt anything less than a charm.

He’s twelve and he’s the pride swelling in his chest at his first Quidditch match when he can hear her somewhere below him, cheering his name. He tells her that she’s his good luck charm the next day, doesn’t quite catch the blush that suffuses her cheeks before he turns away.

But it’s the last day of term and she’s slipping by him in the train corridor and, “Have a good summer, Draco,” she says, hesitates, brushes her lips against his cheek.

He hadn’t quite believed in magic, until then.

___

Draco’s thirteen.

He’s Blaise’s snickering and Pansy’s knowing looks and jealousy, hot and potent, bubbling like a potion he hadn’t managed to get right in his stomach as Cormac McLagen smirks and smiles and sidles up beside Y/N in the Great Hall during breakfast one day.

He’s thirteen and he’s fucking captivated as snowflakes dust Y/N’s lashes and the wind twirls the ends of her scarf, as she wipes butterbeer from her upper lip and giggles at something that one of her friends whispers into her ear.

“I’ll help you back,” he offers, seizes a chance, when her friends have run ahead of her on the path back to the castle.

And she smiles at him, tucks an arm through the crook of his elbow. Tells him about the trouble she’s been having in Transfiguration lately and if she can’t figure it out her parents will have her head for sure and –

“I can tutor you, if you’d like,” he says, wonders if Blaise had spiked his pumpkin juice with Felix Felicis that morning. Hopes that she can’t feel his heartbeat through the jut of his elbow.

“I’d love that,” she replies.

And he can’t quite believe his luck.

___

Draco’s fourteen.

He’s library desks cluttered with books and ink blotches, Madam Pince’s furious hushing when he and Y/N forget to be quite. The way light streaks and shimmers around her, distorted as though they’re drowning in the Black Lake.

He’s fourteen and strangely, oddly hopeful as he clasps her fingers, marvels at the fit of her hand in his, shows her the correct hand motion and heart stops, starts, stutters when she doesn’t quite pull away.

“I aced my last test,” she tells him, runs towards him in the corridor, throws her arms around his neck till he can feel her heartbeat crash against his.

“I guess you don’t need a tutor anymore then,” he says. A frown is burgeoning on the cusp of his mouth.

“No, no,” she says hurriedly. “I still do.”

And he isn’t sure why he hasn’t transfigured this, them into something else yet.

___

Draco’s fifteen.

He’s the firewhiskey on his lips and the castle floor on the palms of his hands as he reaches forward and spins the bottle yes, hopes, wonders, waits as it spins, spins, lands on her, oh yes.

He’s fifteen and he’s the lip-gloss on her lips, the way they crash head on like a train-wreck, a car crash and he doesn’t have an algorithm for this: him, her, the kiss.

Because her mouth fits neatly against his and she tastes like melted sugar, like cotton candy, all soft edges and fluttering pulse points. His eyes are closed and he can’t quite believe/ only he can, he’d rigged the game.

Afterwards, afterwards, afterwards:

He pulls her into a broom cupboard and threads his fingers through her hair, tastes butterbeer on her tongue and feels his tonsils glued together because this is a secret and he can’t quite find the right words to say.

But things are different, they’re different and he holds her hands as he walks her to class, kisses her across the tabletop in Honeydukes and grabs her, twirls her after Quidditch matches. He wraps his scarf around her neck and they pass notes in class, sit at the top of the astronomy tower at night and map out the handful of constellations that they know.

It’s this: him, her, and how he hadn’t anticipated that the winds would change.

___

Draco’s sixteen.

He’s late night kisses and early morning platitudes, worried questions and, “Draco, I know something’s wrong.” The mark on his arm and the worry that’s coiled tight in his gut as he attempts to keep it covered up.

He’s sixteen and he’s breaking, the world too heavy on Atlas’ shoulders. Because he has a noose around his neck and he can’t do it, can’t, can’t, can’t.

They lose their virginity to each other the night before he’s meant to kill Dumbledore. And it’s like falling through a pensieve to a memory he didn’t know he had; soft lips and rolling hips and gasps, teeth, fingers fit neatly in the groove of her waist.

Here’s how it goes:

A girl, a boy, a tragedy. He’s Icarus and she’s the sun and it’s not her that kills him, oh no, it’s the ocean and melted wax dripping down his back.

He tells her ‘I love you’ before he tells him ‘I have to kill you’.

And there’s a green light and he’s Gatsby and he’s never managed to reach what he wanted, no, has only ever been a cautionary tale.

He’s sixteen and he’s a mistake, a heartbreak, the boy who made all the wrong choices.

___

Draco’s seventeen.

He’s the shards of a broken chandelier stuck in his mouth, his hands, vocal chords torn to ribbons as lights flash green and screams echo through the hallowed corridors of the manor. The letters he’d sent her that don’t have a reply, the ragged stitches of a heart never meant to mend.

He’s seventeen and the room of requirement is burning around him, life flashing before his eyes, flames licking at his heels. It’s her, her, her. And Crabbe’s gone, the room is charred but it’s not over yet, is never over.

There’s blood on his hands and in his throat when he sees her again. When he grabs her, yells, watches as a Death Eater’s body crumbles to the floor.

Her palm is sweaty against his, breaths ragged and tears sooty.

There’s a war raging around them and he finds that he doesn’t quite care.

___

Draco’s eighteen.

He’s the faded mark on his arm and the ring in his pocket and the happiness – cautious, unsure, new – that permeates the walls of his new home with her. Because the war is over and the world is still turning.

He’s eighteen and he’s a happy ending, maybe, a fairytale that didn’t quite end with them riding off into the sunset but ended like this instead: him and her and he thinks that that’s all he ever really needed.

Beauty and the Beast AU (1)

Summary: Y/N has always been in love with fairy-tales. They give her an escape from the dark and blood world she lives in. With the new Beauty and the Beast movie coming out soon she’s excited as could be. Her boyfriend Dean however has a few issues with it. 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, OFC, Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, heavy making out, fondling, almost smut, angst, a lot of fighting

Word Count: 5,433 (I’m not even sorry)

Part Two Part Three

A/N: This is my fist part to my Beauty and the Beast AU. Hug thank you to @love-kittykat21 for beta reading and helping me with this! Feedback is always welcomed and I hope you enjoy it as much as I am!

Originally posted by gameraboy

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56



“Hey,” a large hand gripped your shoulder, shaking you gently, “Y/N wake up.” Grimacing, you pulled yourself away from Dean’s body looking up at Sam. He had a big smile on his face,  the alarm clock illuminating his face. Looking at the harsh, glaring, green numbers you groaned. It was barely six in the morning and Sam was ready to get going. “Get up, I wanna tell you something.” His voice was soft and timid, attempting not to wake his brother up.

“Okay, just give me a second.” You whispered back to him, getting up as slowly as you could, Dean simply turned away, pulling the crisp white sheets along with him.

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Thoughts on the Cophine 360° spin scene

This is a ramble of mine (you’ve been warned).

This is probably also going to be ALL wrong.

In fact, I know it’s going to be wrong.

Why? Because the creativity of directors and writers have infinite number of ways to show infinite number of story lines. That’s the beauty of art in all its forms.

But I want to post this possibility JUST in case that it happens. I’ve thought a lot about that 360° spin scene that Evelyne mentioned at Paleyfest 2017.

Of course just the mention of the “beautiful scene” has sent the Cophine shippers into in-depth speculations, “WHAT SCENE WILL IT BE?!”.

Both Graeme and John mentioned that season 5 will focus on the Cophine relationship, as it is a center/core of the OB story. 

And now we have this:

(full confession, I will use any excuse to post this scene)

Some fans immediately commented, “The camera is swinging! Is this THE 360° spin scene?!”

Perhaps. If we get a full wrap around of the intense hunger lust action (#HungryDelphine), I’m good with that (oh Evelyne, you do these scenes so, so, sooooo well). For me, this is a flashback scene to S01E10, the filler between where we left Cophine at S1 and where we picked up with them in S2.

Thinking more of what’s been said and what we’ve seen thus far, considering things from a photographer perspective, seeing this flashback, and knowing the magic OB crew can string together multiple shots: I had a creative filmography idea. I wonder if the 360° spin scene will be about telling the story of Cophine’s love for each other through the seasons. Something beautiful would be to shoot Cophine in love for each other at different points of the story and mesh it all into one scene. Like the camera spins around them and we see them change from season 1 (this scene) to season 2 (in the lab maybe?) to season 3 (”I came back for you” or “give your sisters all my love”) to season 4 (reunion at the yurt) to season 5 (unknown future scene, yes could be their wedding). Piece together a full tribute to their endearing love despite all the obstacles they encountered; showing that no matter the circumstances, they never stopped loving each other. We witness the evolution of Cophine in one scene.

Again, I’m 110% certain that this theory of the 360° spin scene will be wrong.

But what I’m seeing thus far with Cophine season 5 releases: OB is making it right. OB is honouring their love. 

Oh gawd, please let this alone be right.

After watching Wonder Woman
  • Me: wow I really like Diana she's incredible. I wish I knew more about her while I was growing up!
  • Aunt: yeah but, she didn't spin...
  • Me: she's an Amazonian goddess who proved men's thoughts wrong when they depicted women as "unsuitable in the battlefield" at the time. She shows strength, empowerment and courage that is enough to influence young girls. Not to mention the compassion and love in everything she does.
  • Aunt: she didn't spin though
Night Falls: Chapter 20

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: After witnessing a murder, Y/N becomes a protected witness to FBI Agent Dean Winchester, who needs her help to do more than just solve one man’s murder.

Word Count: 3,971

Gif:

A/N: Brace yourself, friends. 

In case you’re squirmish, it gets a little bloody below. Just a warning. 

Wanna be tagged? Shoot @attractiverandomness a note and a “thank you” for being my tag master savior!

Night Falls Master List


Your jaw clenches as you hang up the phone. Crowley plucks it from your hand before his henchman grabs your wrists and ties them behind the back of the chair you had been thrown into when you arrived at the warehouse.

After you had made your decision, the same man who was tying your wrists just a little too tight for comfort appeared in your apartment and gripped your arm, forcing you to stand with a grunt. A gun was waiting in his hand, and he had pressed it into your stomach as he led you from your apartment to an awaiting limo outside. 

It was late, so there was no one around to see you as you got shoved into the car. From the tinted windows, you could see the unmarked car that was parked right across the street, and you could see the face of an unknown agent, his head resting against the window with his eyes closed. If you hadn’t known any better, he looked like some guy napping in his car.  Your stomach clenched as you had to fight down the urge to be sick.

Crowley’s henchman–who seemed to have no name–climbed into the car behind you before Crowley joined you, someone outside closing the door once he was settled. The man with you had pulled you onto the seat with him and kept the cold barrel of the gun pressed against you. 

The three of you drove in silence for about thirty minutes until you had pulled up to a row of warehouses along the river. You had never been to this part of town before, not that you had any reason to before now. It looked like some sort of shipping yard–and with not a single person in sight. 

You had been dragged inside and thrown into the chair you were currently tied down to before Crowley had handed you a cell phone and instructed you to call Dean. 

You hated yourself for the choice you had made, but Dean was smart. He would figure out at some point that this was a trap, wouldn’t he? Your fingers had hesitated over the phone screen, second guessing your choice before Crowley’s man backhanded you across your cheek. 

The sting had burned and you hissed as your neck snapped to one side. It had been a warning to cooperate. 

So you called Dean and said a prayer that the two of you would make it out of this alive. 

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Damian Wayne/ Robin X Reader- Murder Kitten

After this post, there will only be 2 requests left!! Yay!!!!!  Also, this was requested by @abigailredgrave, who requests some pretty awesome stuff!!! I hope you guys enjoy this and have a nice day!!!!  If I am counting this right, THIS IS MY ONE HUNDREDTH FANFIC!!!! YYYAAYYY!!!

Warning: Swearing 

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Second Chance - Part Five

Originally posted by rain-tea-coffee

Heeeeeeeey everyone. How’s it going? I’m sorry this took longer than usual for this update, but to make up for it, this is like…a loooong chunk. I will always try to update on Sunday, but sometimes it might take an extra week if I have too much going on. Thank you to everyone who has reblogged, commented, or messaged me about how much they love this fic or asking to be included in the tags! You all make me so happy, and I’m so grateful to have such awesome readers! As usual, special thanks to @sannvers for editing!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 10,486 (holy crapoli!)

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

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usatoday.com
Lynda Carter will give 'Wonder Woman' sequel a spin if it's 'a decent part'
Carter, who portrayed Diana Prince in the 1970s television series said there's hope that she might be in a sequel.

“I went with my family — my grown children and my husband — to the premiere, and my heart was pounding. And I was taken up because the essence of who that character is for so many of us, and for so long: there’s a goodness; there’s a heart. It’s about something. It’s about who we are as people against the violence. It’s about defending what’s right.”

Day 6: Magnus + Power

Magnus’ eyes snapped open. The steady strum of energy settling into his bones, holding him in its vice as he felt the barely restrained panic.

He closed his eyes and cast his magic out, feeling and searching till he felt that harsh tug.

Help me.

He was out of the bed before the thought was completed, snapping himself into new clothes as fast as he could blink.

He threw open a portal and dashed through, following that trembling bright blue thread, ringing so loud, he could hear it in his ears, vibrating and filled with fear… so much fear… so much pain.

He was going to rip them apart, from limb to limb.

When he stepped out of the portal, it didn’t come as a surprise to find that he was in a warehouse filled with Circle members. What was surprising was the fact that this particular headquarters was so close to the Institute.

Magnus sneered.

Of course the idiots that were the Clave wouldn’t think to look right beneath their noses for the Circle members. He was sure if anyone had mentioned their suspicions about the Circle members being that close to the institute, the Clave would have thought it ridiculous.

“I told you it would work,” someone said, sounding so calm and confident, Magnus decided that he would remove the man’s head first.

He turned his head and saw a man with blond hair, grinning like he’d just hit the lottery.

Magnus allowed himself to smile, and the blonde’s steps faltered, fear flashing in his eyes for a brief moment, and Magnus wondered if he was going to bolt. But then the man visibly pulled himself together and resumed the cocky stroll.

Idiot.

“Of course it would work,” another voice said and Magnus’ eyes swept through the room, the darkness seeming like day to him as he narrowed in on the one man at the back. In his hands he held a warlock child.

Her hair had matted over, tear tracks streaked across her cheeks. She trembled in his hands. But the one thing that made Magnus himself begin to tremble was the cut on her cheek, a long slice that had clearly been made by a knife.

“Who did that,” his voice cracked like a whip, and he watched the men gathered flinch. Even the ones who had been at their different corners in the warehouse, gathering weapons in preparation to storm wherever it was that they planned on heading to, all stopped what they were doing.

No one answered so he repeated the question. “I said. Who did that?”

The one at the back with his hands on the child, spoke. “I did,” he said, sounding extremely proud that he’d tortured a child.

Magnus’s fingers moved, lethal fast and coiled like a whip.

The man’s hands dropped, severed off from his elbows.

He screamed.

Magnus grinned, his smile sharp and biting as he felt his magic slowly rise.

Not the calmer one that he used when he didn’t want to hurt anyone.

No. This power wanted to maim. Wanted to kill. Needed to destroy.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured to the child. She dropped to her knees, raised both hands to cover her ears and did just that.

Magnus took a step forward.

“M…m…mercy,” he heard a thin voice cry out.

He turned to look at the man, a Circle member shaking so hard, a lesser man would have felt sorry for him.

Magnus smirked, letting his powers slowly seep through, showing his marks as clear as day, the one part of him that showed that truly they’d been stupid to bait him.

“Mercy,” Magnus asked, and followed it with a laugh, as hard and dark as the magic that had started pulsing out of him, searching for an escape, looking for what it could singe and eviscerate. “My father is Asmodeus, you fool.” His voiced echoed in the warehouse. He took a step forward. “And there is only one rule in his kingdom. Repay evil, with even more evil.”

And with that, he let his power loose, watching it ripple through, spreading its dark energy all across the room, bleeding and maiming and cutting.

They screamed, hair raising scream that echoed in the room, their screams merging with the sound of cracking bone and the wet sound of flesh separating from flesh.

And then he called out to it. Destroy. Raze. Leave nothing standing.

His power morphed, ever willing to answer his call. The building burned. Fire rapidly spreading, dancing on the walls like his magic did.

Everything burned but Magnus. Magnus and the little warlock child who still had her ears covered and stayed cowering on the floor.

He reached her and reached out, hands enveloping her form as he pulled her to him.

She went willingly with a terrified cry, keeping her gaze averted.

Magnus couldn’t blame her.

“Let’s take you home,” he said and threw a portal open, pulling her along with him as he left the warehouse and the Circle members in it to burn.