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#today i woke up and chose violence
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enchantra35 · 1 year
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Had this terrible thought on this fine morning and I thought I'd share.
What if Katherine finds out about Shelby getting Skulked and thinks it's because of her curse?
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anyanpre · 1 year
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Geraskier AU ideas, pain and suffering and more pain:
Jaskier ask Geralt why is he here? What Geralt ever wanted from him, because he now knows it wasn’t his friendship, it wasn’t him as a person
Jaskier asks if the only reason Geralt let him stick around is because Geralt wanted someone who loved him unconditionally, who was loyal to him until the end, but nothing else? Whom Geralt could cast aside any moment knowing he wouldn’t feel any guilt, any fear of being not immediately forgiven afterwards?
And when Geralt fails to respond, fails to find the right words — that yes, Jaskier’s loyalty, Jaskier’s acceptance was a part of why Geralt wanted him, but it was only a small part of it, that Geralt always loved Jaskier for who he is, all of him — and when Geralt fails to say that, Jaskier accepts his accusations as truth.
And then Jaskier drinks the potion that was with him, and there is chaos buzzing, a sudden change. There isn’t just pain in bard’s eyes when he looks at Geralt, there is fear and disgust. He calls Geralt a monster. He runs.
Geralt picks up an empty potion bottle dropped on the ground and tucks it away. He’ll ask Triss or Yenn when he meets either of them.
When Geralt gives the bottle to Triss a month or so later, she can identify it: it’s a potion that erases memories, but spelled to target only good parts, leaving all the painful ones in tact.
Triss asks Geralt if someone gave that to Ciri, but Geralt says no — Jaskier took it.
Triss is horrified. There are two names for that specific potion — “lover’s last tears” and “wife’s noose”, and for a good reason: if it targets recent relationships, it helps to move on from it even if in an unhealthy way, but if it erases years, decades of companionship, it can drive any person mad, mad enough to end their own life.
And it was a month since Jaskier took the potion.
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raymoo--hackery · 1 year
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Accident.
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inkdemon-whore · 1 year
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Ink: "I need no forgiveness, nor retribution. Such things are pathetic, meaningless beggings from a weak mind to another. They where given no you by some god that does not exist, your confusing morals, your lack of understanding that things simply are as the are, and as they will always be. A hopeless cry to make the chaos of this world make sense. Do not reach your hand to me and say 'I forgive you', it is nothing that I seek from you. Forgiveness is like happiness, a short, fleeting emotion one feels for themselves. If not more selfish. You need not know the deeds I've done, you need not know what I have felt, what horrors choke me in my sleep. It is not for your eyes to see. It is not for your heart to forgive me."
Audrey: "..... Well...... Do you forgive yourself?"
Ink: "............. No.... Never..."
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rabid-invertibrate · 2 years
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he gained 6 inches in 30 seconds with this simple trick! click this virus infested link to find out how
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silent-rascal · 1 year
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angry hot take:
i'm sick and tired of middle aged clash fans who (supposedly) used to be punks in their youth and now have grown into alt-right-sympathising knob-ends; of the shallow pricks who weaponise *that* "life of brian" scene to justify their transphobia; and generally of sad little twats trying so hard to be "alternative" who say "joe strummer would be rolling in his grave for this", "joe strummer would hate that" whenever their backwards beliefs are challenged. just let me politely ask this: who the fuck are you to determine what joe strummer would hate today? why are you trying to push someone who died 20 years ago into your fascist nonsense?? did you attend a seance and asked him personally??? well, i got news for you: you didn't.
people are starving, dying, struggling to make ends meet and having basic rights denied to them because those who are in charge are more concerned about scapegoating to hide their incompetence and taking advantage of people's fear and desperation for votes. this said, we can be pretty sure about what would piss joe off if he was still alive: no need to guess and make assumptions shaped by our own political views and values - just read the lyrics he wrote his whole life and acknowledge the message he wanted to pass on with his actions. personally i don't remember joe saying anything along the lines of "be an insufferable git to anyone who's being bullied and maybe even killed just for having the guts of living how they want without harming anybody else": if he ever did, please enlighten me - i'm waiting.
in the meantime: shut up you cunt, if you haven't got something serious to say - piss off!
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perrypixel · 2 years
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The dumbest thing I've read I've seen are from Lunter antis saying: ‘Lunter is basically a straight ship for straight people while huntlow is a straight ship for the gays’
Like I think I lost braincells reading that bc omg.
Like it so harmful calling the ship straight bc Luz is CANONICALLY bi and regardless of the gender of her partner she is still bi therefore in a queer relationship and if you think that it does make Lunter 'straight' you can fuck off bc I don't tolerate biphobia
Like could you imagine going up to a bi person and telling them in their face ‘oh you’re less queer if you were in a same gender relationship’ LIKE FUCK OFF
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milven is literally mirroring staxcys relationship in season 2.
1. Technically, they both had a pretty good relationship before that season, with one big fight on the screen (lying to El = calling Nancy a slut)
2. In the beginning of the season, we can already see that something is wrong between them, but they just kinda ignore it
3. Then something happens (drinking too much at party = incident in rinko mania) and one of them emotionally snaps/ says something hella stupid to their partner
4. Then they had their big talk (in El’s room = in school behind building) and find out that their partner can’t say “love you” to them. Also, this is when their relationship drowns.
5. Then, their roads parts for most of the rest of the season. One person, from the couple, spends time with their future love interest (Nancy with Jonathan = Mike with Will) and they had talk about their relationship with their not-just-yet-ex partner.
6. Then they met up at the end of the season and somehow it seems that it’s a little awkward but still okay between them (Nancy compliments how Steve is good with kids = milvan hugs happily)
7. BUT last shots are focusing on the new couple (jancy sharing looks across ballroom in school = byler standing next to each other, same as other’s canon couples)
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The Traitor
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Nuisance
Formerly titled Rebellion for Whumpmas in July
Warnings: Murder/character death mention of female side char, murder/on screen character death of other chars, broken bones, buried alive, suffocation, kinda organized crime vibes, whumper pov
In case this wasn’t clear, people die here, in unpleasant ways. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
This is some random standalone piece of Cedric’s life, set somewhere in the last five years before the start of Glass Shards.
This is no longer a random standalone piece! :D It’s now been neatly fitted into the timeline of Nuisance.
Previous | Masterlist | Next
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Cedric rolled a few pieces of rock between his fingers, while his gaze wandered through the small room. At first glance, the devastation wasn’t even visible. Some books piled on the floor next to a half empty shelf, blankets thrown off the sofa, a cup fallen over with spilled tea, and, the most obvious one, a chair lying on its back. But he knew Colette’s house, knew how she had always kept it just as painstakingly tidy as she had kept his books. A single pillowcase out of place would have been cause for worry — this was a sign of a fight.
He lowered his gaze to the rocks in his hand. One half of a geode, rough grays and shimmering white, the other half broken in three. The three parts he had found beneath the kitchen table.
“Nothing.”
Looking up to the source of the voice, he saw Adrien standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard him descend the stairs from the attic; stairs that were a bit too steep for Cedric’s liking. 
The kid was nervous. Not a kid; probably mid twenties, a young man lost in a city that had too many mouths to feed and too few people who cared. Right now, he looked as if he expected for Cedric to punish him for the bad news. His freckled forehead was wrinkled with worry and he kept pushing the same lock of strawberry-blonde hair out of his face.
“Thank you.” Cedric raised his hand, holding out the broken pieces of stone to Adrien. “Could you bring those to Yvan, please? He’s at the forge.”
It would tell his husband what was going on — or that something was going on, more likely, since not even Cedric himself had figured out what exactly had happened. But whatever it was, it had been serious enough for Colette to send him the most urgent warning before disappearing. Yvan might be in danger, too.
Adrien nodded, but didn’t move yet.
“You may leave,” Cedric said, gripping the handle of his cane so tightly, the wood dug into his palm.
The kid nodded again, all but falling over his feet as he squeezed past Cedric and left the house. Faintly, Cedric wondered if it was his reputation, or if he looked half as grim as he felt. He walked towards the door, the tapping of his cane overly loud in the eerie quiet of the house. 
There was one place he had to check, and he had to check it on his own. A dead drop location, out of use for over a decade now, ever since Colette had retired. If whatever had happened hadn’t been totally unexpected, perhaps she had left him a note.
“Jean? Are you sure?”
Yvan’s voice was full of doubt. The kind of doubt that spoke of an unwillingness to believe something that was all too believable. Cedric handed him the letter, at first glance nothing but a weathered recipe for blueberry muffins. Colette had always had a hang of putting the dramatic into the mundane. It was probably unwise to bake said muffins for three and a half hours, though.
“He’s trying to get rid of me and take over the business.” Playing with his cane, to stop himself from grabbing the letter right back, Cedric continued, “That means getting rid of you as well.”
He recalled an image of the man. Unremarkable features and build, short dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin that spoke of spending most of his time indoors. Somewhere in his early thirties or late twenties; ambitious, ruthless. And, apparently, a fucking fool.
“What are you gonna do?” Yvan asked.
“I’ll find out if it’s true. Stay here. Keep the doors closed and the windows barred.” He swallowed down the nervousness about leaving his husband alone. “I’m not sure who I can trust.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I come with you then?” Yvan handed the letter back. “One less loyalty you have to doubt.”
With Yvan at his side, he wouldn’t need much more support. He was stronger than three of Cedric’s men together. Perhaps he should bring another mage though, like Laurent. One of his oldest friends, and one of the very few Cedric was sure were not involved in whatever this was.
“Are you sure? You know what I’ll have to do if it’s true.”
“I know. But when it’s us or them…” Yvan leaned in, placing a quick, tender kiss on his lips. “I’ll pick us a thousand times over.”
-
“Where is she?” 
Jean glared at Cedric. The man’s feet were buried up to the ankles in the hard packed dirt of the backyard of his house. He yelped when he sunk in a bit deeper, the dirt closing in around his lower legs now, but his hateful glance didn’t waver.
“Where?” Cedric asked again.
Jean’s admission of guilt had been a mere formality after Cedric had found the documents in his house. A collection of meticulously taken notes about Cedric’s connections, the location of dead drops he should never have known about, and a shockingly complete roster of Cedric’s confidants. Colette’s name had been last on the list, and he assumed that Jean’s research had alerted her to what was going on.
There had been no trace of Colette herself though, and no clue as to if Jean had been working on his own.
“Fuck you,” he snarled, trying to tear his legs free. He was not successful. 
“She has nothing to do with the business anymore.” Cedric’s voice was certainly calmer than he felt. “She’s just a nice old lady, living a nice, peaceful life.
When Jean didn’t reply, Cedric reached for the earth. Pushing, squeezing. Closing it around the man’s legs, tighter and tighter, until something cracked. Jean wavered, sweat beading on his forehead as the color slowly drained from his face. His breaths were visibly labored, but he managed to not make a sound.
“Where is she?”
Jean spat out in front of Cedric. “Well now she’s a dead old lady.” His voice was trembling from the pain he must be in. “I made sure you’ll never find what’s left of her.”
Cedric didn’t often allow his anger to take over. He couldn’t afford for it to guide his actions when there were people who relied on him. Right now, it wouldn’t make a difference. Colette was dead; because someone had tried to get rid of him, because she had tried to warn him. Killing this piece of shit wouldn’t bring her back, but Cedric was not above revenge.
He raised his hand, pointing the handle of his cane towards the ground. The earth shifted and rippled, dragging Jean deeper down. The man’s curses turned into screams as it reached his thighs, his hips. Cedric squeezed his hand around the handle and the earth around Jean’s legs. His screams turned into sobs as his knee was crushed, and into hiccuping gasps when the second one followed.
Hands were trying to find anything to hold onto, but the ground swam away from them, burying them, not letting them go again. Jean’s torso sank deeper, dragged down, squeezed to suffocate the man’s screams. Then his head was gone as well, and a moment later the earth lay still again, seemingly undisturbed. 
Cedric reached out to the soil itself, feeling where it was, feeling where it wasn’t, and how it shifted as nails dug desperately into it. He wondered if Jean was screaming; if he was, he was too far down for it to be audible above ground. Cedric had made sure to leave his legs trapped, but enough room around his upper body for him to struggle and fight and feel the terror of realizing he would suffocate.
His death would be a slow one.
“You,” Cedric suddenly said, turning around, walking towards Adrien. The kid was pale as a sheet. “You vouched for him. Got anything to say about that?”
Despite all his show about punishing the bondsman for the crime of the one they had vouched for, he didn’t like it and wasn’t unwilling to listen to reason — within reason. Only twice had he had to make true of his threats so far. He hoped it wouldn’t have to come to a third time now.
“Well?” he probed, his patience running thin.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have said something but he promised—” Adrien snapped his mouth shut, tearing weakly against Yvan’s hand on his arm. “It wasn’t my idea,” he blurted out, the fear in his eyes betraying the resolute sound he had tried to give his voice.
Cedric grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected him to be in on it. Perhaps not truly a part of it, but aware enough. How long had Adrien looked him in the eyes, knowing that Jean was planning his murder? Digging through Colette’s house, knowing very well that she was dead? Lying right to his fucking face, despite seeing how worried he had been about his friend?
As Cedric nodded in Yvan’s direction, he let go of Adrien. His attempt to run was short-lived; the ground rippled, making him stumble and fall. It crashed over him like a wave, suffocating his pleading scream with a cloud of dust, turning it into a cough. Adrien was swallowed quickly, and dead a few seconds later, crushed by tons of soil and stone.
Despite the anger still burning in him, Cedric didn’t want to make him suffer. For a moment, he traced the blood, seeping into the earth beneath his feet. Too warm, too thick, not connected to anything, neither surface, nor underground stream. It was wrong. It wouldn’t stay wrong for long, the earth would take what he had offered. 
When Cedric looked up, the others were watching him with indifferent expressions, as if he hadn’t just killed two men. It was slightly reassuring, to consider that they were on his side — and still fucking unsettling. He raised his voice.
“Sweep his house. If there was anyone else involved, I want to know.” He took a deep breath, meeting Yvan’s gaze. “No word to anyone. If anyone gets nervous, I also want to know.”
There was a clear understanding between them; Yvan would keep an eye on the others, even on Laurent. He would make sure that there was nothing missed, that every bit of information would reach him. Cedric was so infinitely grateful to have him at his side, no matter what.
He smiled sadly at another kind of understanding in Yvan’s gaze as he added, “I’ll go tell Colette’s daughter.”
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[ID: The top image is a banner is a picture of shallow water on a sandy beach. Across it is written the title side stories in a bright yellow to dark pink gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a thin paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]
Tagging: @whumpmasinjuly​
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proudcyanide · 1 year
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“Most loved”
fuck you Netflix
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I appreciate the trope in [fan]fiction but if someone tried to shut me up with a kiss during an argument they're getting their spine ripped out through their mouth
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psychoticwillgraham · 1 month
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it’s Saturday, so let’s post my completely correct doll opinions
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giolovesyousm · 4 months
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“you left me no choice but to stay here forever„
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amiracleilluminated · 6 months
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ying-doodles · 1 month
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hold onto each other like they are the last thing you have left in the world.
:)
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