#unprompted violence

[anxietyriddledsquid]

just started playing elden ring for the first time and THIS BITCH JUST CALLED ME MAIDENLESS

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

out of curiosity did the zombeh attack ever happen in this world? if so do any of them remember it or how would they feel about it? if not what would you believe would happen if so?

well...

one of my favorite things about eddsworld is how it uses the classic cartoon trope of everyone dying at the end of an episode and then being totally fine by the next one. fuck continuity!

the zombeh attacks definitely did happen. at some point. in some reality. i guess i would say, Edd, Tom, Matt, and Tord remember what happened in the eddisodes. outside of that...

they're not really sure.

Text:

Tord: Remember that zombie apocalypse?

Tom: No.

Matt: Ugh, don't remind me!

Edd: Oh, that was a BLAST!

Td: How did it... uh... end again?

Tm: Oh I have to be WAY drunker for this

SFX: FWOOM

[every-sanji]

[moongothic]

[yingren]

"...Do you ever wonder what would happen... if you were to be dropped into a black hole?" Jingliu does. It sounds like a fun science experiment. He likes science or some other nerd shit, doesn't he? (chews on ur askbox)

the answer lingers somewhere in the recesses of his mind, though he can’t quite grasp why she’s even asking. for a moment, he stays silent, contemplating whether this is one of her strange little tests or if her curiosity is genuine. eventually, he opts for a lighthearted response, delivering a joke with his trademark deadpan expression.

“ well, do you want to try ? you are quite small, i could easily toss you into one if that’s what you wish. ” 

[bibuckleykinard]

how many times do we need to learn as people that irony and hyperbole can be harmful because 'jokes' aren't easily distinguished from genuine thoughts and feelings until we stop rewarding people for speaking or posting about violence

like even if you're joking/don't actually believe that/think whoever you are insulting is bad/immoral/fictional therefore deserves it - ad hominem attacks always do more harm to the people who share those characteristic then the individual you intend to cause harm to or discredit

[steamclouds]

can you tell more about voradras? what‘s his relationship with family members and how does he deal with meeting all the companions since I assume he got the whole everything on the surface is evil rhetoric at the academy too?✨

I already had a whole text written for this but forgot to save it so I'm typing everything out again rip

So the relationship with his family is barely existant, they might share the same House name and infernal-touched eyes but that's where it ends really. He has no relationship with matron and patron because he was raised by his sister Khaless, and spent most of his time either at the academy or later on patrolling the tunnels around Menzo. Though once he escapes, they desperately try to find him, as they lost both their House's future Weapon Master AND Lolth's favor in one night.

Meeting the companions is a bit more complicated, because at this point he's been on the surface for roughly 5 years and already went through a whole campaign. Those friends he made when he reached the surface were the ones who had to deal with a rather cocky exiled Voradras, because even though he often meant well and befriended them quickly, his personality was still rather off-putting at first (who can blame him really) and he had to unlearn a lot of the narrative he was being taught in Melee-Magthere and Arach-Tinilith.

At the point bg3 takes place, he's a wholly different person. And even though he went through quite a series of traumatic events right before he got scooped up by the Nautiloid (that's a can of worms for another time), he's nothing but kind to them and quickly takes up a leadership role in the group, always trying to mediate between the quarrelling party members. He's basically the least judgemental one of them all

[milfmailer]

if i call 911 will they arrest her overseas?

[adureus]

Stares... and dumps Mythos in the rubbish bin. Where he belongs.

Ya well at least he's HOT GARBAGE!!!

[namelessprince]

WHY DID THEY DUNK SO HARD ON ARMOREDPHEASANT LMAO???

[thebeeshaveknees]

Shigeo stared at the test. The math test he took two days ago. His test he got 100% on.

Mob could count on one hand the amount of math tests he'd scored perfectly on - and ironically enough, they were all back when every problem could be solved with counting on one hand.

The success made him nauseous, he felt his powers writhe a little harder under his skin.

He watched his math teacher walk back up to the front of the room, his eyes alight and with a proud smile on his face. "This past test had a class average of 84%, eight percent more than the average of last test!" He cheered, and his eyes met Mob's for a split second before darting away. He felt his stomach churn. "You all did so well, Congratulations!" He clapped his hands as he said it, and Mob flinched at the sound.

The teacher kept talking, moving on with the lesson while everyone tucked their tests in their bags. Mob stared at the 100% in bright red marker for another few moments before moving to do the same.

When class let out, Shigeo went straight to Spirits and Such. The building was like a lifeline for the past half week, not that he'd admit that because of the stupid reason.

He went up the stairs two at a time and then opened the door without knocking. Reigen was sitting at his desk, and his eyes met Mob's when he entered. "Right on time!" He said, the same as he had yesterday, and the day before, and almost every other day. "There aren't any appointments today, but since sixty percent of our business comes from walk-ins, there's still hope!" He declared, before going back to what was probably a photo exorcism from the consistent dragging and clicking of his mouse.

Shigeo dropped his backpack on the floor beside his desk before he sat down and pulled out his test.

"Shishou?"

"Yes?" Reigen immediately turned his full attention to Mob, and he swallowed.

"I got a math test back today…"

Reigen's smile shrunk, his eyebrows scrunching in pity. "Oh." His expression picked back up. "Well, bad marks aren't the end of the world - math can be tough, but not understanding it doesn't mean you can't still--"

"It's not that." Mob interrupted, because he knew Reigen was never upset by it. "I got a hundred on it."

Reigen nearly fell out of his chair, the old plastic making a concerning creak as he righted himself. "A hundred?!" He was out of his desk and looking over the paper on Mob's with all the disbelief and wonder of someone who was just told that God existed and he worked at the local MobDonalds. "As in One Hundred percent?!" Flipping through the three stapled pages of the test, a smile growing wider and wider on his face.

Mob wanted to smile too - he didn't, but he wanted to. He looked up at his master, waiting for his final comments.

"A hundred percent - even if you cheated, this is amazing, Mob." Reigen said, and he looked so happy for him. "Whatever you did, keep doing it." His posture straightened, and with a firm hand on his shoulder. "The trick about school is, it isn't to teach you how to read fast or multiply and divide negative and theoretical numbers or all that nonsense - it's to teach you to learn. Nowadays with the internet, you can get information anywhere, but once you learn how to understand and retain that information, the world is yours." He said wisely, ruffling his hair at the end. "It seems like you've figured out how you learn, Mob."

How Mob learns. How he learns.

His math teacher slapping him across the face every time he got a question wrong, telling him he was a waste of effort.

He got 100% on his math test, for the first time in years.

Making him apologize on his knees to the tree out the window for providing him oxygen.

He finally got a good mark on a test.

"It seems like you've figured out how you learn, Mob."

Oh.

Everyone laughing as he shakily did long division on the chalkboard.

So he needed them to be…

"In this world, you are worth less than trash."

So he deserved it.

Milk on his head, blood on his hands, creek water in his shoes.

So he's worth more there.

"Mob?"

He looked up at his teacher, who still had a warm hand on his shoulder.

Red blood on his white shirt, red ink on his white paper.

"You're right, master."

[criticalcrux]

@Icybreaths asked:

[for Grimmjow] It’s a similar scene they’ve been in before, where he’s throned upon his kill and feasting on his winnings. Jewel had watched the entire hunt in brutal detail — that he lured her to, she concluded.

Her heart pulsed into her ears as she dropped to her knees to the macabre piece before her.

Fists balled onto her lap as she studied the mangled bits before her. “Quick work, as always.”

Her lips pursed as her gaze lingered on his ruby sheened fingers. “… I’ve got this feelin’ in my blood like I want more.”

In the revelry and glory of another success, he carried on in honor of the fallen, feasting, they'd given all they could, and his skill proved above theirs. How many had he'd overcome in the slaughter, did it matter, they would all be a part of him now regardless of their number. Ripped apart, shredded, cracked and broken with severe disregard for preservation.

What would appear as brazen chaos to an uninvested outsider's view was to some so keen, the act of an orchestrated succession driven on pure instinct. Both planned and improvised when necessary and it all fell together in a horrific beauty for one so inclined to perceive it. Those given over to the savagery of battle. To behold it for what it could be, a form and language all it's own. One he was innately, fluently masterful in.

He was simultaneously lost to the bloodsoaked carnage and so driven by adrenaline and inherit ability that each and every action and reaction taking place within the ruby splattering of rain that resulted from every manuever commited appeared to be handled with strickenly attuned senses and immense foresight.

And for her—she was there to observe as he'd come to know just how much she enjoyed herself when she did.

Of course it'd been bait. And of course she'd taken the unspoken invitation—of her own accord. She was every bit the blood-thirsty fighter he'd come to expect she was and she showed it more with each time she followed his lead.

On her approach he saw no reason to take to any movement, a sly glance as he continued was all he offered. And he was a sight, bathed in crimson beneath the unceasing pale glow above them, the glisten of sanguine dripping from his form and features, which he never took to wiping away. Not least til he'd considered himself—finished.

He'd sensed her reiatsu but it was off somehow, and it was pulsating throughout the entirety of her aura. There she was quivering with something else this time. Something he'd only mildly detected from her sparingly during a few of thier prior encounters. The times she'd refused to admit to it existing there, obscured but there nonetheless.

But he wasn't about to be interrupted quite yet. Teeth baring down, they tore into tendon and tender muscle, ripping away from the remains then set to chewing. Only a glower in her direction. "Thought I said I wasn't givin' lessons. R'didja ferget." He was soon picking between his teeth with a red-painted, sharpened claw. And that was about the time she collapsed. His eyes quickly shifted and settled as they drank in the scene for a moment before narrowing.

A soul reaper before him. One unlike others he'd known of. Her actions revealed more than words ever could and he wondered if she knew that.

Exalting the King.

He could see it no other way.

Whether it was him. The kill or her own bloodthirst. He knew one thing—He'd caused it.

That's right. She had been driven to her limit

A sinister intensity and delight gives rise to a crack of a grin widening across his features. Razor's edge glint; flickers from sapphire incandescence in his stead, he hadn't the need nore want to make advancement just yet.

Leering down, that's when his interest was solely on her, she'd reached a pique and he could push her just a bit more with ease.

"That's right. Don't lie this time. You've always wanted more."

A pause before he huffed a low but knowing laugh.

"Say it, Stone. What do you want? Cowards never get what they want. So. s p e a k. up!"

[alchemic-elric]

@wakerrife was a king soul:

[Gives Ed some baking chocolate and culinary flowers] Have at it~!

"I don't quite know what 'm gunna make w'th this yet, but thanks."

[richarlisonny]

MOM JUST SAID "FOOTBALLERS USED TO BE SO UGLY THESE GUYS ALL LOOK LIKE POPSTARS" I'M RJSJFBKWJSJDBSB

[avpdgirlfriend]

i have a clearer head now i guess but im still thinking about it and i keep tearing up (baby idiot) like im not even like upset about it i dont know why that keeps happening. anyways my uncle was saying something something about being strong and said he could pick up my brother, and then added he could throw my brother and i feel really bad that i had to stifle a laugh in that moment bc i didnt even think it was funny the moment he said it to me i thought it was fucked up and weird that he said that so i dont know why i fucking laughed!!! i feel so guilty over it like i genuinely did not think it was funnt at all it was an involuntary response and i dont know why

[yingren]

“ Ren - stop...!”

kafka’s voice disappears within the cacophony of screaming that fills his head, bouncing off every nerve it can find, consuming every rational thought. nothing is left for him, nothing at all. ren isn’t sure whether or not he has his eyes open, the only thing he sees is pitch black darkness and silhouettes moving way too fast for him to perceive. 

someone is there, a familiar someone, someone with a voice he knows from before but can’t place at the moment. despair conquers as his body twists and he tries to escape the confines of his seatbelt, tearing it away from his body, one rough pull and he hits kafka, a blow delivered right to her throat. ren can’t tell if she reacts or how she reacts, there is a panic so suffocating that he can’t stop moving or he fears he will lose himself completely. the door behind him is locked for whatever reason, refusing to open no matter the amount of times he pulls and pulls & pulls at the handle. what the fuck is he supposed to do when everything is pitted against him?

at least the car isn’t moving when he pushes past kafka and unceremoniously falls into the backseat. his head hits the ceiling of the car and sends him stumbling forward. fabric rips, it must be his coat, but ren doesn’t have the time to check. his head is on fire by the time he settles in the backseat, feeling around him for a way out. he needs to leave, needs to go & right now if he can help it. somewhere near him is kafka, silent for whatever reason, not a word or even a whisper.