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#when i first wrote it

I have a Johnlock fanfiction that got a bit more attention than I anticipated, and now I’m stuck on it because I don’t know whether to continue it as Johnlock, turn it into Viclock, or rewrite it as Viclock. I get the feeling it won’t get as much attention if it’s not Johnlock, and probably the only reason it got so much attention was because it was Johnlock. xD Decisions, decisions.

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sansoAnswer

Hello Hello!! I hope you’ve had a good morning/afternoon/evening 💛

I saw this and instantly smiled like an idiot HAHAHA I don’t think it’ll be much of a spoiler to say that they will develop a relationship past that! I’ve hinted at it in chapter 3 with the moment that the two share, and I’ll reveal a little bit more and share that their relationship will be explored a little further in the next chapter :)

(Also, I actually have a really soft spot for this pairing 🤧I ended up writing a bonus chapter because my friend and I were talking about how the reader would interact with Atsumu in certain situations hahaha)

You have a good day as well :)

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Ruby will actually never appear in the book series. She’s part of my headcanon for what happens after the series. (I know—I’m writing this story I could make it actual canon—but I want to leave people freedom to imagine.)

Anyway, Ruby is Lucas’ daughter in the future. She showed up in the dungeons & dragons campaign I ran the summer before last. I sometimes set my campaigns in Artorbis (but nothing that happens is canon—it’s like a D&D Artorbis AU). I guess she would team up with some of the other future headcanon children I have floating around in my brain, but honestly I haven’t thought about it too hard.

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OK WELL GHSDGHSDHFSDH IT’S REALLY STUPID. it was a random warm-up i sort of gave up on, and it’s a genderbend AU (or i guess partially, since i just wanted more girl characters so i think i genderbent Kyle and Token and Kenny? just to switch it up) South Park characters where they’re all going to prom as a group of friends

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achievements of the day: woke up, still alive, took morning meds, recognized dysphoria and changed shirts to help ease it, did a vocab lesson, caught a my/thical kitchen livestream, finished both seasons of bud/dy system, ate dinner, took night meds, brushed teeth before bed

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harry, voldemort, snape, and dumbledore are the main four characters that rowling explores the concept of morality with ( they are also, arguably, the four most important characters thematically speaking ).

harry = the ultimate good. he’s our hero. we should all strive to be like him.

voldemort = the ultimate evil. we don’t want to be like him. he is the sort-of person we should punch in the face.

snape = the exploration of how horrible people can still do Good™. essentially is the exploration of the concept of redemption and whether or not it’s possible, and whether or not the good someone does / tried to do outweighs all of the horrible stuff they did.

dumbledore = the exploration of how good, decent people can still do Shitty, Horrible Things, and whether or not good-intentions, whether or not the end goal, justifies those actions.

the realization at the end isn’t SYKE the ‘champion of good’ was a horrible person all along !!! albus’s character as a whole ( and, by extension, grindelwald’s as he acts as albus’s ‘dark mirror’ to show what albus could have become ) is meant to explore the idea of ‘ends justify the means’ of doing something ‘for the greater good,’ of the ‘necessary sacrifices during war,’ and whether or not those ideas are true. albus kept a boy in an abusive home because he rationalized that harry was safe there in the sense that voldemort / his supporters couldn’t find him; harry’s ‘big picture’ safety was more important than harry’s immediate/more personal safety / happiness. albus set the order of the phoenix on a fool’s errand of guarding a ‘weapon’, having them risk their lives just to distract voldemort so albus could seek out the horcruxes / information about them without voldemort finding out; again the ‘big picture’ was more important. he emotionally manipulated the ever living fuck out of snape to get snape to believe that Redeeming Himself meant basically doing whatever albus told him to so albus had a spy for when voldemort came back, as albus always suspected he would.

AND YET albus does all of this not just for, ya know, fun, he does all of this because he wants to defeat the Ultimate Evil of voldemort. he doesn’t ‘raise harry for slaughter’ as it were because one day he was like ya know imma make this boy a martyr. he does what he does because he knows voldemort won’t rest until he defeats harry since he heard about the prophecy, and because he realizes that harry is a horcrux (and thus has to die if voldemort is going to be defeated), and that voldemort has to be the one to kill him because only then does harry have maybe, a slight chance of actually surviving the whole thing due to their connection. so, yes, tell harry about the horcruxes because those need to be defeated before voldemort kills harry and the horcruxes will keep him Occupied and out of Fighting Voldemort Area, give him little hints about the deathly hallows so maybe he’ll find them so they can help him along. everything he does, he does to bring about the downfall of voldemort with the potential addition of maybe saving harry as well (although he is never certain that harry will come back)  —  even when he finds out he’s going to die in a year he manipulates his own death to reap the most benefit for the Greater Good out of it.

but…does that make it okay? is he still a good person despite all of this? at what point, no matter how noble his cause or end goal, is the fact that he’s treating the people around him like chess pieces too much? do his justifications matter when a little boy is being abused due to, fundamentally, albus’s own decisions (regardless of the fact that albus didn’t know the dursleys would treat him that way, and that only the dursleys are responsible for their own actions)? what is the breaking point that finally decides that albus is no longer a good person despite his good-intentions? these are questions albus wonders himself and are, in general, what albus dumbledore is supposed to get readers thinking about.

classifying him as entirely ‘a saint ! the champion of the light !’ or ‘cold-machiavellian-puppet master ’ is doing a great disservice to, perhaps, the most morally complex individual in the entire series.  

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I have a question for folks who use screen readers!

I’m about to post a chapter of a fic that has a potentially very triggering scene in it.  I want to warn my readers, and give them the information they need to skip the triggering scene and read the rest of the chapter.

What is the most accessible way for me to let people do that?

The bad scene is the very first one in the chapter.  For someone who doesn’t use a screen reader or other assistive technology I would just say “scroll down past the first scene break,” but if someone is visually impaired, how easy would that be for them?  Would it be better for me to give the first few words of the next scene so they can text-search their way down to it?

For reference I am posting this on AO3 and using their provided divider, which is just a <hr/> HTML tag, which is not easily searchable as far as I know.

THANKS

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A/n- Combined two requests(one from here, another from AO3). Candyman reacting to reader passing out. THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE!! THANK YOU!! :D

Very short, drabble…roughly 190 words. No trigger warnings needed, that I know of- will add any if asked. :)

Keep reading

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Andjfkfkfk maybe it’s maybelline Steve look alike is all I care about for the few seconds he was introduced


Steve calm down


Steve is all like “fuck da police” before joining them (future edit: I was right)


Jim dead ass woke up from a coma to find himself a prisoner in the Middle Ages and the one random dude from the cafe being like “blah blah magical explanation oh and thanks for the tips mate” let my son NAP!!


Morgannnnaaaaaaaa


Morgana: *exists*

Claire “throw hands on sight with no weapons and surrounded by the enemy” Nuñez: (ง •̀_•́)ง


Jim broke me when he shouted “STOP CALLING ME A BEAST” hhhHHHH I felt that ToT


“…and take our loved ones from us” OOOOH WHO DID IT??? WHO HURT ARTHUR??? WHO DIED FOR THIS DRAMA???


OH SHIT CLAIRE


oh Steve, I love you, dummy


I want Morgana’s braid thing UwU


YAY CALLISTA


aldkfknfkfkf the goblins


Petition to have a shirt with Callista’s face that says “Waka Chaka”


The sad trolls 😭


Douxie is good big brother


“That hair was a mistake” don’t call out my mom bun like this 😤


His Merlin impression tho lmao


*bangs up his own past self’s head* “I have this under control”


Ah okay so Merlin tried saving magic users by working with the oppressor, using that position to work on a solution that helps everyone even tho it means bending a knee to problematic authority…and Morgana is more of the free spirited justice type who doesn’t wish to use that to help people. I can see where the disagreements began. Eager to see where things sour 👀


Steve you can’t just call a nobleman a scrub lord even if he deserves it…more like Sir Dad-a-lot


Slorr milking, more like “The Last Jedi blue milk scene but less traumatizing”


Claire’s dress UwU


Ooooh it seems Morgana’s not fully motivated by justice…she wants to expand her “potential” 👀👀👀


OH IT WAS GWEN WHO DIED OOOOOH I figured but still


Claire being nice to Morgana hurts. It’s gonna hurt so bad once she turns full evil. Hhhhh


Arthur NO


Douxie *complains about slorr milk and then rubs it on Archie like any sibling would*


UNDERAGED DRINKING OH SLFKFKFKKF


Callista mocking death is a mood


The RAP SCENE


Oh dang I only just noticed: Sir Lancelot has a prosthetic arm…just like another stubborn warrior we know…


Callista: UGH I DON’T HAVE FOR THIS *sweeps Jim into a bridal hold while running off into the into the sunrise*


YEA CLAIRE GET IT DONE


GUNMAR HELLO


and BULAR TOO YAAAAS

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like atonement for a bygone sin
meg x cas, 2777 words, idk what ratings are
[ao3]

You only meet Castiel once before they throw you into a ring of holy fire. It’s eighty-six years after your first return topside, and you’re in a besieged city, somewhere in what would eventually be Iran. It’s an easy place to take souls, Azazel tells you. Desperate people will agree to anything. He looks at you, and grins in a way that reaches only his mouth.

“You did, after all,” and scratches his fingernails down your cheek.

Keep reading

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wip character introThala Galanis

basics: Greek | 24 | Choleric | ESTJ | Chaotic Good

strengths: determined, brave, and adventurous

weaknesses: obsessive, reckless, and stubborn

appearance: average height (about 165cm/5′5″), hazel eyes, slightly frizzy dark hair, tanned and freckled from working outside most of her life, little scars peppered over her knuckles and palm from tending to her father’s fishing nets and cleaning the fish he caught

excerpt: Strong hands gripped me, hauling me over to the side of the ship. The cannonball that would pull me to my grave dragged behind, scraping ominously against the floor. Not once did I struggle. Any will I had to fight died days ago. Perhaps I died with it, and now my empty husk would be reunited with my soul.

Laughter erupted from the crew as they held me over the side. They dropped the cannonball, held only by my bound ankles. I bit into my gag, suppressing my cries as the bones snapped. Even now, it wouldn’t do to fuel their egos. 

I stared at the waves below me, my mother’s words repeating endlessly in my mind: If you’re in peril, seek out the water. Tell your troubles to the sea. She will always listen. And, if you’re patient, she will help you.

“Please,” I murmured in vain to the harsh sea. “Be gentle to me.”

skylermegary
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Ford tried to run, but he was backed up against prickly bushes and lost his footing. He crashed back into the undergrowth, narrowly avoiding dashing his head on a boulder. Prickly bushes caught at his clothes and raked down his skin, catching him tight as he tried and failed desperately to scramble away from the hulking creature that was barreling towards him.

From the concave face profile and jutting jaws, the coin-shaped black button nose, and the short, rounded ears, it was definitely a bear; or it might have been once. The hump of its shoulders identifying it as a grizzly had swollen into a hunched back. The raggedy clumps of fur hanging from its oversized body, patches of crusty yellow skin and bloated proportions didn’t contribute much to the grizzly bear look. Those massive claws, thick and cruelly hooked like scythes, dug into the dirt beneath it. Overgrown, even for an animal of its size. They sunk into the ground and slashed up roots. The oozing slices on its legs would imply that those claws were clumsy and very, very sharp.

(Considering that grizzly bears had reportedly been killed off in Oregon this creature was more likely to have once been a black bear, but its physique would beg to differ. Its anatomy was more grizzly-based than anything. Then again this was a town in which gnomes stealing one’s garbage was a common annoyance, so perhaps the statistics of bear sightings bore little importance here. He would have to ask the fairies and other supernatural residents of gravity falls if they’d seen many bears around.)

And then Ford had no more time to think, because the creature lunged for his face. He screeched and flung up his arms in defense – its jaws snapped shut around his forearm and Ford was suddenly very grateful for the thickness of his jacket that kept the fangs from digging in too deep. He tried to pry open its jaws with his free hand.

The bear thrashed its head back and forth, savagely tearing Ford’s arm around like it wanted to rip it out of its socket. Ford yelled as he was yanked from the clutches of the bushes and thrown about like a rag doll. Fangs dug into his arm and something hot soaked into his sleeve but he couldn’t feel any pain, just the terror and adrenaline pouring through his body. He aimed a kick and hit something solid.

The monstrous bear let out a strangled yelp and its jaws loosened, sending Ford skidding across the torn-up ground. He dug his fingers into dirt and tried to scramble to his feet, to run, but the creature was already bunching itself up to charge. Ford’s hand closed around a fist-sized rock.

With a bound Rebus was there, skidding over churned-up ground to crouch over Ford, torn and bloody with his lips peeled back to show red-stained teeth. A rumbling growl swelled from his chest as he glared over Ford’s head, shoulders hunched and ears flattened.

The bear charged.

(Grizzly bears can run at up to 35 kilometers an hour, easily faster than humans-)

Rebus shot forward and tackled the bear head-on with enough force to shove it to a stop. The bear roared as he snapped at its face and throat, claws raking its hide. It shook him off and lunged at him.

Rebus yet out a yelp as the bear sank its teeth and nails into his skin, shoving him into the dirt. He twisted and scrabbled uselessly at its shoulders. The bear would not be derailed. It bit down harder.

Rebus slashed it across the eye.

The bear roared in agony and smacked him away with a huge paw, sending the wolf skidding. Rebus tried to get to his feet but the bear slammed into him with the force of a truck. This time when Rebus was tossed across the ground he seemed to be getting… smaller? Ford screamed his name.

The bear’s gaze snapped to him. Ford clutched his rock (knife, where was his knife?) as it huffed and barked at him. He risked a glance at the nearest tree. Bears were fast but clumsy, maybe he could gain ground in the thick forest. The animal itself kneaded and stomped at the torn-up ground.

Ford took a step back and it broke into a thundering run towards him.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

A shape slammed into the bear with enough force to knock it off course, sending them both tumbling. A human shape in a raggedy red jacket. The bear’s jaws snapped down on the man’s arm and he screamed and punched it repeatedly in the face. Ford charged forward to bring down his rock on the bear’s head.

It thunked off like the creature’s skull was made of bricks, but it did manage to startle it long enough for the man to tear free and yank Ford away from the bear’s slashing claws. They tumbled to the ground together, the other man pulling Ford protectively behind him.

For just a split second, Ford caught a glimpse of a very familiar face. Then Stanley Filbrick Pines threw himself back at the bear.

But it was Rebus who made contact. Ford scrambled back from the thrashing creatures, ears roaring. The bear slammed Rebus (Stan?) into the ground and tore at his back. Rebus twisted around and latched onto its front. The bear bellowed and staggered back but this time Rebus would not be removed. He ripped his head back and took the bear’s throat with him.

Blood sprayed and the creature let out a gurgling groan. Rebus kept tearing at its throat as it sunk heavily to the ground like two tonnes of dead weight.

Emphasis on dead. The blood was no longer spurting but oozing down its coat, staining the ground beneath it.

Ford staggered to his feet, gasping for breath. “R-Rebus!”

The wolf slithered from the bear’s corpse, stumbled and hit the ground. Before Ford could rush to him Rebus was melting away; his form shrinking and white hands digging into the ground to push himself up. Stanley (older than Ford had last seen him, with longer hair and a haunted look in his eyes and far, far bloodier) staggered forward.

Stanley?”

“Are ya hurt? Did it getcha?” Stan gasped, grabbing Ford’s face and turning it every which way to search for injuries. Injuries. Ford could be confused and terrified later. Right now his brother was bleeding out in front of him and he had to think.

“Stan. Stan!” Ford grabbed his twin’s hands off his face and wrenched them down. They were caked in blood. Whose blood, Ford didn’t know. “Stop moving! You’re bleeding, you’ll only make it worse.”

“Who fucking cares?” Stan spat. There was a wild look in his eyes even as he swayed on his feet. Now Ford had a moment to assess the injuries, and… he wanted to throw up.

Deep slashes raked down Stan’s torso, shredding his jacket and staining it black with blood. His head was bleeding heavily from some wound hidden in his hair, but even worse was his arm – a chunk of the bicep had been torn out and exposed flesh gleamed. In spots on his shoulder and back the skin had been ripped down to the bones.

“We have to get you to a hospital.” Ford tried to keep his voice level. Stan shook his head frantically.

“No – no no no hospital, I’m fine, I don’t need a hospital.”

For god’s sake Stanley-”

Stan flinched back at the shout, and then at Ford’s reaching hands. He wrenched himself back with a hiss and staggered on shaky legs.

Don’t touch me.” Stan’s voice deeper than it should have been, throaty and distorted. His eyes flashed with panic like that of a cornered animal. Oh, curse it all! Stanley was hurt and probably rather disorientated from adrenaline and blood loss. Disorientated animals had a nasty habit of lashing out.

Ford held out his hands. “Wait! I’m just-”

“No. You – you stay the fuck away from me.” Ford tried to step forward and Stan growled at him, a sound that humans shouldn’t be able to make. If he still had fur it would have been bristling. Ford pulled in a shaky breath and tried to compose himself.

“Stan – Rebus – whoever you are – I know you’re hurt, and angry, and you feel attacked. But I need you to trust me. I’m trying to help you.”

Stan growled again, but this time it was weaker, more uncertain. Ford held his hands out to show that he was unarmed.

Please.”

Maybe it was the severe blood loss, but Ford liked to think it was his own sincerity that finally caused Stan to cave. His brother nodded tightly and allowed Ford to rush forward. Ford shucked off his jacket and pressed it to Stan’s arm, wincing at the pained hiss the touch incited.

“Come on. We can sort this out later. First I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“M’fine.” Stan grumbled. It was rougher than Ford remembered, more reminiscent of a canine rumble than was comfortable.

Canine. Wolf but not. Rebus – Stan? – Rebus?

Ford shook his head quickly to clear it. Those were thoughts for later. He slipped an arm around his brother’s shoulder to support him as they limped out of the forest.

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image

im fuckin sCREAAAMINGGGG yall rly came out for blood today huh, I just..

Brazil Hinata with an exhibitionism kink, not understanding boundaries and public decency and anyways I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this ask since u sent it. Sorry it took me so long to answer but uhh, pls take this drabble/ficlet (as claudia calls it) that was inspired by this ask oopsies ♡︎♡︎♡︎

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