geralt & rest of the wolf witchers: so we put ciri on the comb and the windmill in the afternoon, and before that she runs the killer at dawn…
triss: hell… i’m going to call kaedwenian CPS on you. i’ve seen the girl, she has bruises all over—this is abuse!
lambert: hah! like hell, it is!
coën: hardly abuse, it’s quite average really.
eskel: we have tried to go easy on her…
vesemir: she’s doing a quarter of what i made you all do 🤨
geralt: triss, i’m trying to give ciri a normal childhood. these are things every child does
triss: …
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Always raise an eyebrow when people say they hate the totk Zora story like it's one of three reasons:
1. They genuinely think the characters were underdeveloped and needed more time to get the messages of the storyline across for it to work (this is my reason except I don't hate the story I just wish there was more.)
2. They were one of the people who wanted Sidon to have more depth as a character and then got mad when he had more depth as a character by showing his weaknesses and how he is in fact not perfect (this destroys the Tumblr sexy man version of Sidon they made up in their head.)
3. They hate women. Elaborating, they're pissy because Yona came out of nowhere and ruined their ship even though there's a billion other characters that came out of nowhere yet they're only mad about Yona (she gets in the way of the Temu yaoi which is a massive crime.)
It's usually the 2nd and 3rd.
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Rough fingers
Today, I learned that my mom is dying.
Personally, it isn't news, I've been a witness of my mother's mortality ever since I was six years old. She knew sickness before she even met me, and now I'm afraid the disease will be by her side for longer than I.
The doctors don't even know what it is, so there's no treatment, just thousands of pills to ease the pain. My house always felt more like a pharmacy than a home.
The doctors don't know that it is but I do: it's unfair.
It's being eight years old watching your mother shaking; it's being thirteen feelling her faint in your arms; it's being a fifteen years old staying at home to watch your younger siblings; it's being sixteen going through everything alone because your mother already has too much to bare; it's being seventeen years old willing away her tears while learning how to interpret exams results.
It's a lifetime of waiting — and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting — for the worst.
I want her to see me graduate, I don't want to be the one who makes the other hair.
Please Gods, let my mom be strong enough to make a braid.
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Elphaba: [Working and doing research at her desk at 3 AM muttering nonsense to Glinda who’s trying to drag her to bed] I don’t have to wake up if I don’t sleep!
Glinda frustrated and tired: I will respectfully burn all your books if you do not go to sleep right now.
Elphaba suddenly more awake: But-
Glinda: No buts! [Steals the book she’s currently reading, giving Elphaba a challenging glare]
Elphaba: [Defeatedly gets up and goes to bed] Yes my sweet..
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i did not sleep yay for me im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );
can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.
but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.
you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,
that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.
that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.
and in that moment everything seems solidified.
you're never getting away.
there's no point in it.
there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.
you're dead.
not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.
what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?
who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?
the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.
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Why is your boyfriend insane (just saw the piss meter post)
"I have,,,,,demons,,,,they spell out swear words in alphabet soup,,,,my brain is without wrinkles: beautiful, smooth, and wet " -Boyfriend
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