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#death threats cw
fictionkinfessions · a month ago
I understand being uncomfortable with kin doubles, i myself am uncomfortable uncomfortable with some doubles, but some people take it WAY too far.
If you say doubles of you are factkins who should die. What the fuck is wrong with you?? They're fucking people too?? I understand reality checks are a shitty thing to do but God.
The saying "doubles are committing identity theft and they don't kin me /srs" on its own is annoying because good job all you're fucking doing is upsetting people and Invalidating them, but calling doubles factkins who should kill themselves is absolutely way too far. If you say that shit what the FUCK is wrong with you.
Anonymous asked:
MPC, this is the same anon who posted abt kins who tell doubles they're factkin.
Another thing is that if you actively go after doubles and attack them. Sit the fuck down. Being kin is NEVER an excuse to harass, bully, or tell a double to literally die. Nothing fucking excuses that shit and the fact that some kins think that is horrible. If you're uncomfortable with doubles and find a double! Great! Ignore them, block them, avoid them, say you're not comfortable with doubles and work something out with them.
But don't fucking attack doubles I. How the hell did that even get into your minds that it's okay.
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abitefullofwhump · 2 months ago
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Damien Gold: Part 28 - Hell Week: Decisions have consequences, Sullivan Jinx
Announcements about specifically this section of the story: So, this is going to be a rather long part of the story, and it gets rather dark. So I just wanted to remind everyone, if at any point you are not comfortable reading a chapter of this story, but want to keep up with the plot, feel free to message me and I’ll give you a summary of important plot points of the specific chapter. I will also be tagging anything that falls into this part of the story as “Damien Gold: Hell Week” for anyone who wants to blacklist specifically this part of the story. Please stay safe and healthy!
CW: mock execution, broken leg, mouth whump, mouth sewn shut (fairly descriptive, so be warned), beating, death threats, hand whump, use of a staple gun, quick reference to strangulation, stab wound, blood, manhandling, guns, gunshot wound, gunfire, noncon touching, multiple whumpers, lady whumpers, multiple whumpees, whumper turned whumpee, explicit language - let me know if I forgot anything!
Taglist - @green-eyed-whumpster @likeit-or-whumpit @tears-and-lilies @starnight-whump - let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!
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Masterlist - fyi, I have a separate masterlist for this section of the story.
Damien stared out the kitchen window, trying to ignore Sully as they washed dishes from dinner. It was cloudy out. Looked like it was going to storm.
Sully had been acting strange since they came back from the city three days ago. They were easily irritable, and were snapping at him more. And Damien was worried that this might be it. Sully was getting sick of him, and he was going to die.
Damien looked at Sully. They were wearing a pale yellow, short sleeve button up with butterflies and dark red pants that matched some of the flowers on their shirt. They had their hair up in a bun and had put on eyeliner today.
Damien noticed they were standing at the sink with the tap running, staring at the wall rather than washing dishes.
Damien carefully cleared his throat, and Sully turned off the water. “What?” they asked, their voice sounding tense.
“Um…” Damien hesitated, wondering now if it would have been a better idea to just leave them alone. “When you’re done with dishes, do you want to paint our nails while watching a movie?”
Sully was silent for a moment. They turned on the sink again, grabbing the scrubby and saying, “No.”
Fuck. Damien didn’t know what to do at this point. He didn’t know what Sully was thinking. What was bothering them. I pushed them too far, and they’re sick of me and now I’m going to die.
Damien had been desperately trying to fix it, desperately trying to back track, since Sully came home from seeing their mother and blew up on him. He assumed they were in a bad mood at first because of something Ashera said or did, because when was she not terrible.
He had still tried to smooth things over. Finally swallowed his anger and tried to fix it. He even fucking said I love you to them. He had thought that would put them in a good mood.
It hadn’t, and now he was sitting at the dining table while Sully cleaned up dinner, not knowing if he was going to die or not.
Damien looked up when he heard the tale-tell sounds of a car pulling up to Sully’s house. He looked out the window. Is it Jesse?
Damien tensed when the first car appeared, one he didn’t recognize.
“Sully,” he said, looking at them.
Sully looked at him, turning off the sink. “What?” they snapped.
Damien flinched, his mind going blank for a moment in panic. Sully is mad. They’re mad and they’re going to hurt me. “Someone is pulling up,” he managed to say, tensing as Sully gave him a confused look and got closer to look out the window.
There were three cars now parking in front of Sully’s house. Boxing their car in. Three black SUVs with tinted windows.
“Get down, Damien,” Sully ordered, their voice still tense but now mixed with fear.
“Is it Jude?”
Sully was backing up to the basement door, where most of their weapons were stored. “I don’t know. Get down.”
Damien slowly slid off the dining table, crouching under the table as he held the side with his stitched up stab wound. Wincing at the movement.
Damien could hear doors opening and shutting, laughs of unfamiliar voices. Sully was cursing under their breath--Damien didn’t think he had ever heard them actually curse before--as they desperately grabbed their house keys and fumbled with the basement door’s lock.
Damien could hear the voices getting closer. “Sully, is the front door locked?” Damein hissed, glancing into the living room.
“Shit. Fuck. No,” Sully said, their voice trembling as the basement door swung open.
Damien darted out from under the table, trying to stay down and out of sight as he did as Sully ran down the basement’s steps. He got to the door just as the doorknob was turning. He slammed his body against it to try to close, ignoring the sharp pain in his side. The man on the other side grunted, and pushed back.
Damien held his ground, and he heard a familiar voice say, “Just fucking open the door, Quinn.”
Fuck, it is Jude.
“Clearly, I’m trying, Jude,” Quinn snapped.
Fuck.
Jude sighed deeply, and Damien heard a clicking sound of a gun being cocked. And then a gunshot, and parts of the door flew around Damien. He quickly backed away, ducking to try to avoid being shot.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The door swung open, and Damien pressed himself against the wall behind the door. His heart racing as Jude stepped in, Quinn cursing at him right behind. Jude glanced into the kitchen before glancing where Damien stood, grinning when he saw Damien. The cut on his face moving with his grin.
“Oh, hey there, nugget,” Jude said, is voice thick with mockery.
Damien winced at hearing Jude use the same stupid nickname Sully liked to call him. Damien tried not to look at the basement, hoping that if he could distract everyone for long enough, Sully could shoot them when they got back up.
Jude reached out to grab Damien, and he ducked out of reach. He saw another man--probably Quinn, enter, still cursing as he pressed a palm against his ear. He was tall and broad. Muscular. With brown hair that was shaved on the sides and long on top, and dark eyes.
Damien could tell there were more people behind him.
Jude jumped towards Damien, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him forward. Forcing him to his knees. “Caught ya,” Jude laughed.
“Where the fuck is Sullivan?” a woman’s voice came, and Damien saw her entering, carefully gripping a gun and pointing it at the ground while she walked in. Her hair black, dark brown eyes. A scar going over her right eye.
Damien pushed against Jude, trying to break free of his grasp.
A kick landed on his side, right where his stitches were. Damien screamed out, crumpling to the ground. “Where’s Sullivan, nugget?” Jude asked, his voice still laced with mockery.
Damien gasped on the ground, clutching his side. He could feel blood began to seep through his shirt and onto his hand. Fuck.
“Turn him around, Jude,” Quinn said, bringing out a zip tie handcuff from a bag swung around his shoulder. He still had a palm to his ear, and clearly looked mad still.
Jude grabbed Damien to try to flip him over, but Damien kicked at him. He didn’t know where the woman had gone and Damien was fairly certain someone else had entered. He couldn’t see where he was lying on the floor.
Jude tried grabbing onto Damien again, and this time Damien landed a kick on Jude’s shoulder. Quinn chuckled at him as Jude made an annoyed face. He stepped back, and Damien began backing up.
Jude grabbed a fire poker. Just as he turned to Damien, there was a loud bang from a gun. Damien heard the woman from earlier cry out, and Quinn quickly disappeared, crying out, “Brie!”
Damien looked back to Jude just as he swung down the fire poker on Damien’s leg.
Damein screamed as another gunshot sounded out. His leg throbbed, and he felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He saw Jude raise up the fire poker and swing it down on the same leg.
Damien screamed again, the pain shooting up from his leg. He felt sick from how much it hurt, and he thought he might pass out.
The fire poker was dropped to the ground, clattering on the wooden floor, and Damien groaned as he was flipped onto his stomach, his arms forced behind him. He could feel the zip tie handcuffs tightening around his wrists.
Fuck, I’m going to die.
There were several more gunshots, and Damien had no idea who was firing on who. Or if anyone was getting hit by the bullets. All he could think about was the pain in his leg and side. Of the fact that he was going to die.
“Oh, Sullivan,” Jude yelled, singing Sully’s name as he did. He grabbed Damien, dragging him across the room. Damien groaned, his leg--which he suspected was broken--getting hit against furniture as they went. Jude dropped Damien on the ground, at the edge of the kitchen where Jude was still angled out of sight from the basement’s door. “If you don’t come up here, I’ll just have to shoot your boyfriend!”
Damien could see now that the woman, Brie, was shot in the shoulder. She was sitting on the ground, her back against the side of the couch as she carefully aimed her gun so if Sully tried to walk out of the basement she would have her aim on them. Her shoulder was stained in blood, and she looked pissed off.
Across from her, closer to the basement, was Quinn. He gripped his gun, pointing at the ground as he looked around the corner, waiting for Sully to come up the stairs. He kept giving Brie worried glances.
There was another person, who was the closest to the door, clearly taking cover after just trying to fire at Sully. Their orange hair was blond at the tips, and they were round glasses and had several piercings in their ear.
Damien heard Jude take out his gun, and then felt the cold metal of the gun press against the back of his head. “You have five seconds to drop all your weapons and come up here with your hands up, Sullivan!” Jude yelled. “Or I shoot your little nugget!”
There was silence, and Damien was convinced Sully wasn’t going to come back up for him.
“One.”
Damien closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath.
“Two.”
He wished he was able to talk to Lily. Just hear his little sister’s voice one more time.
“Three.”
He was going to die. This was it. Sully was going to let him die right here. At least Lily already thinks I’m dead. She won’t have to mourn me all over again.
“Four.”
“I’m coming!” Sully’s voice came from the basement. And they sounded so scared.
Damien gasped in relief as the gun was pulled away from his head, and Sully appeared at the entrance of the basement, hands up in the air.
They didn’t have any weapons visible on them.
Sully looked at Damien, and for a second Damien almost thought they were trying to silently apologize for something.
Quinn darted to them, forcing their hands behind their back and tightening a zip tie around them. “Check they don’t have anything on them, Madison,” Jude ordered. “I’ll go get Ethel.”
Damien tensed, glancing back at Sully. They looked just as surprised as Damien felt. How the fuck is Jude involved with Ethel? And why?
She was the person who hired Sully to kill him. And now she knew Sully had lied. And that he was alive. And now she was here.
Jude walked out as the last person, Madison, walked to Sully and began patting them down.
“Fuck,” Brie breathed as Quinn went to her, kneeling next to her and slowly prying away her bloody clothes from her shoulder.
“Get on your knees, Sullivan,” Madison ordered, forcing Sully to kneel on the kitchen floor. They walked to Damien, and grabbed him by the hair and forced him to crawl forward. “Come on, go kneel next to them.” Madison dragged Damien next to Sullivan, and Damien tried not to cry out as his broken leg was jolsted about.
Sully was staring at the floor, their eyes wide. They’re panicking.
It wasn’t long before Jude came back in, a lit cigarette in his mouth. He leaned against the wall as Ethel walked in. Wearing a suit, similar to the ones Damien had seen her wearing occasionally on tv whenever she was on the news for whatever reason. Her curly red hair was pulled back in a bun, and she quickly inspected the house with her piercing blue eyes before settling on Damien and Sully.
And then she gave them both her charming smile she usually had on when she was on tv.
Ethel turned her attention to Brie and Quinn next and she walked to them, followed by three men who seemed to be her bodyguards. “Are you okay, Brie?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Brie grunted. “Won’t interfere with my work, boss.” She smiled at Ethel, and it was much less charming than Ethel’s.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Ethel said. And then she walked into the kitchen. She stood in front of Sully and Damien, inspecting them both closely. Damien could feel Madison behind the two of them. Brie’s glare from the living room. Jude’s cold stars from the entrance as he smoked.
In the back of Damien’s mind, as the smell of tobacco filled the air, Damien just wished he could smoke a cigarette at this moment.
“Oh, Jinx, it is a shame that I found out about your little secret,” Ehtel said, like a disappointed mother. Ethel looked at Damien, frowning at him as she looked him up and down.
Damien clenched his jaw, looking back at her with a hard glare. He didn’t know what was happening, really. He didn’t know how Jude was connected to Ethel, but he was most definitely the one who told her he was still alive. And fuck it all, because he knew he was going to die anyways. He wasn’t going to show how scared he was.
“You’ve really been living on borrowed time, Damien,” Ethel sighed.
“He’s not a problem for you anymore,” Sully blurted out. They flinched when Ethel looked back at them, raising an eyebrow as she did. “I...I made sure he couldn’t spread whatever he had on you.”
Fucking all of this for a fucking affair. That’s all Damien had found on Ethel. Just pictures he had taken of her and Archie’s dad meeting up at a hotel.
“Shut up,” Ethel snapped.
“I wouldn’t--” Sully was cut short as Madison took out a baton and cracked it over their head. Sully crumbled to the ground, crying out in pain.
Damien could see blood already trickling down their face from where Madison had hit them.
Ethel gestured at Madison to get Sully back to their knees. Madison grabbed Sully’s hair, making them cry out again as they pulled them back to their knees. Ethel stepped towards Sully, cupping their chin so they’d have to look at her.
Sully whimpered, their light brown eyes full of fear as they looked into Ethel’s blue eyes. Blood running down their face and neck and staining the collar of their pale yellow shirt.
“You don’t understand who you crossed, Jinx,” Ethel said slowly, her voice soft and almost sympathetic.
Sully furrowed their brow.
“I’m a Lambert, Sullivan Jinx,” she explained. “The last one.”
Sully’s face dropped, and Damien tensed.
He didn’t know much about Lamberts, but...Fuck, I don’t think her meet up with Mr. Soren was an affair. Archie’s family were very successful real estate owners, and Archie had once, off-handedly, mentioned his dad sometimes made deals under the table.
Damien hadn’t put any thought into that. Archie’s family made their fortune from real estate. Of course there was shady shit going on. I didn’t think he was making deals with fucking crime bosses.
“What?” Sully asked, their eyes wide and voice shaking. “No, they--”
Madison hit Sully again with the baton, this time keeping them up by holding onto their hair. Sully flinched as Madison lowered their hand, whimpering.
Ethel looked at Damien again, and then at Sully. “It’s been five months since I paid you for taking care of...the problem. And you didn’t do it, Jinx. I am unsure yet if I want you dead for it or not.”
Sully looked at her, going pale. They opened their mouth to say something, but stopped when Ethel gave them a warning look.
“I know you’re a Jinx. Unlike you, I can understand the consequences of my actions.” She folded her arms, inspecting both Sully and Damien. “This is how it’s going to work out. I’m going to have the rest of this week to consider what I’m going to do with you, Jinx. I have some speeches and meetings to do this week, so I can’t stay here. I have to go back to the city. And next Saturday, I’ll be coming back. And that’s when we’ll kill Damien Gold over here, and decide if I’m going to kill you or not.”
Sully let out a whimper, and Damien almost wished he didn’t have his hands zip tied together so he could stand up and grab the baton out of Madison’s hand so he could hit them.
Almost a whole week of… Damien didn’t know what was going to happen this week. What torture he was going to be put through. The amount of pain he was going to experience.
But he knew he’d spend the whole week knowing he was going to die by the end of it. Only able to wait for it. Sully said the two of us were going to hide out at their house until Jude was found. Jesse won’t come here and...I’m going to die.
Damien closed his eyes as Ethel continued, “You look like you have something to say, Jinx.”
Sully seemed to hesitate before speaking, “Why...why are you working with Jude?” they asked quietly, almost a whisper.
Damien opened his eyes to see Ethel glancing at Jude. “His issues with your mother are unrelated to my work. He just came to me after finding out you lied to me.”
Damien glanced at Jude, who was smiling at Sully, his grey eyes eager as he stared at them.
Brie was now standing, her shoulder bandaged and arm in a sling. Quinn was still standing next to her, his hand on her back.
“Are we going to sit and talk all week, boss, or are we going to get this started?” Jude asked, his cigarette in his hand hovering close to his mouth as he looked at Ethel.
Ethel glanced at him. “You’ll have all week with them, Jude. Be patient.”
Jude pressed his lips together, looking displeased by Ethel’s response.
Ethel looked back to Sully, looking them up and down. “I don’t tolerate people I work with lying to me. Without exception, Jinx.”
Sully looked down, and Damien tried to ignore how much they were trembling. How scared they looked.
He tried to pretend he didn’t look terrified too.
“Let’s get this started, then,” Ethel sighed, gesturing at one of her bodyguards who then quickly left the house.
Jude walked forward, grabbing Sully by the hair, forcing Madison to step back from them. Sully flinched and whimpered as Jude looked at Damien. “Here ya go, Damien,” he said, pressing his cigarette against Damien’s neck, putting it out on him.
Damien jerked away, jostling his broken leg and moving his stab wound wrong. “Fuck,” he gasped.
Jude laughed right as Madison hit the baton against Damien’s ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs. Damien doubled over, pressing his head against the floor as he tried to catch his breath. He screamed when the baton slammed down on his back. He curled onto his side, trying to ignore the pain in his leg as he moved it.
Damien could see Madison’s cruel smile right before they slammed their foot down on his already broken leg.
Damien screamed again, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.
He could see Sully pinned to the ground, Jude sitting on top of them, his fingers wrapped around their throat, and them desperately gasping for breath. Ethel was sitting back in a chair, observing them as she had her legs crossed, a satisfied smile on her face.
Brie was squating next to Sully and Jude, she was glaring down at Sully, a deep frown on her face.
Damien gasped for air again when Madison kicked his stomach. As he tried to suck in air, he saw Quinn come up from the basement. Damien saw a flash of silver of Sully’s huge staple gun in Quinn’s hand as he walked to Brie, who silently took it from him.
Damien felt someone grab the back of his shirt, pulling him to his feet. He cried out as he was forced to put weight on his broken leg. He was dragged to the dinning table where Ethel was sitting, and forced to lay on his back on top of it. The three bodyguards Ethel had and Madison held him down after one of the bodyguards handed Ethel a container for something.
Damien groaned as he felt someone’s hands wrapped around his broken leg, squeeze it just to make it hurt more. Ethel stood over him as someone forced his head still, and forced his jaw shut.
Two other people were holding down his shoulders and arms, and he was completely unable to move. His hands that were zip tied together pressed into his back. And all he could do was look up at the cold faces that had their hands on him.
Damien could hear Quinn, Brie, and Jude talking to each other, and the occasional sound of the staple gun being used and Sully crying out every time it did. Damien closed his eyes as Ethel smiled coldly down at him.
“My aunt taught me how to sew, before she died. It’s a very useful skill to have,” she said softly, and Damien could hear her opening the container that one of her bodyguards had gotten from the car.
Damien wanted to scream, hit someone. Mostly Sully. How could they be so fucking stupid? If they hadn’t gone back into town, Ethel wouldn’t have found them. If they hadn’t brought him to torture Jude. If they had just fucking killed him like they were hired to do. Then none of this would be happening.
If I had just not tried blackmailing a fucking crime boss, than none of this would be happening.
“Struggling will just make this worse, Damien. And it will make it take longer, so just hold still for me, alright?”
Damien tried to jerk away when he felt a sharp object pierce his upper lip. He was held still by strong hands. He could feel the needle being pushed through his flesh, poking his gums when it got all the way through. It curved underneath his lips to pierce through his bottom lip. He could feel the thick thread being pulled through the two new holes as Ethel pulled the bloody needle upwards.
He couldn’t help letting out a whine, whimpering from the pain. He closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the pain. Trying to imagine he was somewhere else. Trying not to listen to Jude’s cruel laugh as Sully sobbed.
He began crying as Ethel continued, humming to herself softly. Taking her time to make the stitches in his mouth tight so he wouldn’t be able to move his jaw once she was done.
Damien could hear Sully’s screams, and thuds of a hammer as someone hammered something into the wall.
And Jude’s laugh.
When Ethel cut the thread, she stepped back, putting away her materials in the container, and Damien was forced to sit up. He saw that Sully’s hands were pinned against the wall, bleeding from where a nail was pressed through them, forcing them to stand against the wall.
They were crying as Jude stroked a hand through their hair, and picked at the thick, silver staples in their skin.
Damien was thrown against the floor, and he tried to curl up into a ball without moving his broken leg. He felt dizzy from the pain. And all he wanted was it to stop.
He heard Ethel lean over him, and say, “See you in a week, Damien.”
He heard it beginning to rain as Ethel walked out the house, followed by her three bodyguards.
Leaving behind everyone else.
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emilyshowedup · a month ago
Actually, Dream has called out his fans plenty of times! in fact, back in the summer, he used to argue with his fans that tried to baby him and defend him. He has stated to just leave people alone and to not send hate - and that if you do, you are a dumbass. So, he has said stuff about it. The problem is that the entitled people just ignore him b/c they don't consider him a person or they think they know better than him about his own life or health. None of his fans likes those toxic assholes.
i know that he’s addressed it ! plenty of people have ignored it and twist his words so they can continue their rampage. i just need him to restate it again with the influx of the new fans that may have not seen it. but maybe a rt of his own words or something? idk i just feel like a restatement or discussing what’s going on should happen . especially with the turn to dt & d0xxing. ty for chatting with me & feel free to respond again
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thewonderingsorceress · 2 months ago
Your blog is disgusting you should delete it, no one cares about you or your blog. Your muse is just a slut looking to sleep around and fuck canon muses and act like your muse is so much better than anyone else. It's so annoying to see you ruining other peoples blogs by being on them. All you do is complain about everything begging for everyone to say poor you like an attention whore. Everyone one would be better off if you were gone or dead. Thank about that.
//.....
That’s it. I just am done.  I’m done. I can’t. 
I just can’t anymore.  I sit there and try so hard to be a good partner, to try and not be whiny.  I sit there and say that something is putting me in an odd headspace and I’m spiraling and this  is your response? Do you know how pathetic that is? How pathetic YOU are? 
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whowhatifs · 7 months ago
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for folks talking negatively about M
sort of demo spoilers? under the cut just in case
everyone: murder M! murder M!
me: *uncomfortably stares at screen*
look I get that folks are upset but I think we're taking it a bit too far :/ like we're calling A a clown but threatening M with death... I mean M didn't handle things the best but they're figuring things out and they're not trying to hurt the Detective. idk maybe it's just that I can relate to M since there was a time when emotions like that were really foreign to me too and maybe M's made some mistakes, but they're not malicious and we haven't even seen things play out fully?
maybe I'm missing something I dunno, but I still felt like I needed to get this out.
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theslowesthnery · 5 months ago
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anyway, welcome to the fandom experience circa 2021, where being an adult and thinking harassment over fictional shit is Fucked Up warrants death wishes, where “don’t send people death threats over cartoon characters” is a pedophile dogwhistle, and drawing completely non-sexual art of children is “sus”
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mod-taka-and-friends · 3 months ago
Just got a death threat, how’s your day going?
(Love you btw!)
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a death threat?! that’s horrible! i’m so sorry that someone did something so unthinkable!
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my day is going alright!
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what’s this about a death threat? do i need to make someone disappear?
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fictionkinfessions · 16 days ago
respect crumb or die by my blade - tubbo
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proship-pokemon · 6 months ago
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What are antis trying to accomplish by sending anon hate and death threats? Are they trying to scare people into silence? Because it sure as hell isn't working
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bacchus-yearns · 2 months ago
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I'm so glad that you let me be. That you do not get frustrated when I stumble over my speech, or laugh when I shake.
That you don't recoil when I walk by, or find the jokes about my demise hilarious. That you worry when I explode, and understand that you make me happy.
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maggs-is-a-muppet · 2 months ago
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I like the Dead Poets Society fandom a lot because if I make a stupid and somewhat mean-spirited joke about the freckled redhead over there, nobody sends me death threats, and I appreciate that.
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emilyshowedup · a month ago
Recently, those who do terrible things have not been in Dream's community - most of them have been part of 404twt or honktwt. A lot of people (including people who hate the toxic fans and dislike Dream) have noted that most of the toxicity has been coming from 404twt. So, most of the time (as of recent), it might not even be someone from smiletwt who is doing it - Dream is just getting the scapegoat for another content creator's fanbase.
oh i also agree with 404twt, i am quite a large advocate on getting george to talk about his fanbases actions as well, but currently smiletwt has found my post and is going rampant. but i see that many fall under both as well? and since dream is such a large creator i would be sure his message would get to a large majority. but i also want george to speak up as well bc the amount of sexualization, dt, d0xxing, and self harm i see is disgusting. ty for chatting and feel free to respond
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stupidestcupid · 3 months ago
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➸ EROS — of volatility. // drabble.
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“ We need ta talk ‘bout this, Quinn. ”
The cherub sighed and hurried down the steps, catching the footfalls of the time God behind him, steps heavier from the weight of his boots.
“ We don’t need to talk about anythin’, honestly. ‘m fine not thinkin’ or speakin’ about it, ”   he groans, all but stomping into the living room. 
Kennedy peeks out quietly from the kitchen but returns once Quinn shoots them a smile, it dropping once the other was out of his sight. He feels rather then sees Dymetri grab at him, dodging it with ease, instead focusing on finding his sneakers so he can do what he did best in unsavory situations: run.
“ Ya can’t jus’ keep runnin’ away from yer problems. It’s getting worse an’ you know it, ”   Dymetri countered, rummaging around where Quinn couldn’t see. He didn’t turn to take the bait and instead searched under the chair to feel for his shoes.
“ ‘m not running, ”   he countered, lying through his teeth, letting out a frustrated noise when his hands only met air.   “ An’ I have it under control— ”
“ No, ya don’t. Tha’ is the whole damn reason we’re havin’ this conversation. Ya need ta face ‘im or he’s gonna consume ya and yer gonna spiral again. I can only mess with ya head so many times before ya truly forget everythin’, ”    the God argued, kicking at the table, trying to get Quinn to face him but again, the redhead didn’t rise to the bait.
“ Shut up, Dy, you don’t know anythin’, ”   he huffs, standing up and shoving the chair away in his frustration.   “ I can handle him. He hasn’t been around in months. ”
There was an annoyed hiss of breath from the elder God and it immediately put Quinn on edge. Something foreign settled in his gut and he clenched his jaw to keep himself under control.
“ I know more then ya think. Eros is fuckin’ sneaky and manipulative and vindictive. He’s gonna fight ya and he’s gonna win ‘cause yer not fuckin’ prepared, ”   Dymetri spat, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
The unpleasant feeling coiled within him, eyes squeezing shut as it undulated. He needed to leave. He didn’t want to have this argument.   “ Shut up, ”   he whispered, fingers curling into fists.
“ Yer gonna let ‘im win ‘cause you don’t wanna face the fact tha’ he’s back. Can’t face the fact he’s jus’ sittin’ and waitin’ on you to fuck up. ”
“ Shut... up... ”
“ Yer gonna let yerself fuckin’ suffer and fall to ‘im ‘cause ya can’t get yer head out of yer ass and when he does take over, it’s gonna— ”
“ JUST. SHUT. UP! ”
And then something inside him snapped. 
Quinn felt something hot slice through him, fingers clutching at his body as the heat simmered under his skin. It was as if he was being broken apart internally, fingers grabbing him and tossing him back violently, a gasp all he could let out before his lungs were filling up it it all became murky. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe—
The room was silent aside from the cherubs heavy breathing, and then he was growling, turning on his heel, blue eyes shifting to their natural vibrant red. These eyes were glistening, burning bright and violent.
“ You old fucking bastard, you think you have it all figured out, ”   came the cherubs cold start, narrowing his gaze onto the other man.
Dymetri stared back him in confusion, fingers gripping tightly onto the book he was holding. Violet eyes searched along his face as if asking an unspoken question, but he only powered on.
“ You pick and prod and try to kiss ass to make up for your fuckups, like that will make the universe forgive you. You fucked me up, you know. I’m a goddamn mess because of you. ”
It seemed to click, then, and Dymetri’s face fell almost instantly.  “ Eros. ”
“ What? Not happy to see me? You seemed content to talk so much about me to that little infestation, ”   the God rattled on, narrowing his eyes before sighing, rubbing his temple in a show of annoyance.
“ Listen. I’m tired, Chronos. So. Goddamn. Tired. Why didn’t you just let me die? It would of been better then whatever the fuck this is. ”   Eros felt the arrow slide between his fingers before he could register it, exhaling sharply out his nose. He directed all his anger, his disgust, his desperation onto Dymetri. He refused to let it be his fault.    “ I hate you. You did this to me. Your gift didn't fucking work. "
Dymetri’s eyes flickered over to his hand and remained there, taking a step back as Eros took a step forward. It only added fuel to his fire, clutching the arrow in his grip tightly.
" I warned you that it wasn't guaranteed, Eros—put the arrow down—and you still begged for me to help you, "   Dymetri spoke softly, almost pleadingly. It wasn’t enough, though. Eros was selfish. He wanted it to hurt.
“ Oh don’t give me that bullshit, Chronos. You didn’t have to pull the good fucking Samaritan act. I’ve watched you kill a lesser man for pettier shit. You could of done the same to me. ”
Dymetri took another step back and Eros growled, extending his free arm and held the other God in place with a flick of the wrist. He watched him swallow before blinking away what looked like tears.
“ I loved you, ”   Dymetri admitted quietly, easily heard in the otherwise silent room.
Eros blinked once, twice, thrice... before throwing his head back in mocking laughter. 
“ You loved me? No, I was a hole for you to fill, you lonely old git. You didn’t love me. And why would you continue to love me after I left you? ”   He watched the other man flinch then set his jaw, gaze hard but eyes glistening.    “ You’ve gotten soft in your old age. ”
“ And you’re still as childish as ever. You keep pinning the blame on everyone else yet never own up to your own faults. You’re selfish and untrusting and lonely. She’s dead, Eros. It’s time to let her go... ”    Dymetri whispered, eyes sad, pitying.
Eros felt it, then. It was all consuming, enough to have him charge forward, wings fluttering angrily, all semblance of sanity all together dissipating. He watched as Dymetri stumbled backwards, tripping ungraciously onto his behind, staring up at him like a cornered animal. Good. He rose the arm equipped with the arrow, prepared to strike.    " Fuck you, you bastard! Once I kill you, maybe then I can finally get some proper goddamn PEACE! "
As quick as lightening a hand was to the God's throat and he was pinned against the wall. He choked on a gasp and grabbed for the arm holding him up, red eyes flickering down to meet glowing pink. Kennedy's jaw was set, expression hardened and unwavering. One hand held him up without as much as a tremble, while the other all but snatched the lead arrow out of the cherubs hand. They threw it out of reach but didn't loosen their hold, eyes flashing dangerously when Eros tried to pry off their hand.
" Dymetri I think it's time for you to go, "    they suggested quietly, tone soft but all traces of its usual sweetness was gone. 
The time God blinked owlishly for a few moments, eyebrows risen up to his hairline. He let his glance flicker to the discarded arrow then back to the scene before him almost anxiously.   “ Kenns, I don’t think— ”
Kennedy’s head snapped to the side, glowing eyes narrowed and volatile, pointed in the other Gods direction. It left no room for argument, no room for any deliberation on what it meant. It was a silent warning, and Dymetri took it for what it was as he scrambled to his feet. He quickly grabbed the leaden arrow and hurried out the room, leaving both cherubs alone in quiet stillness.
A gasp brought their eyes back to the task at hand, Eros’ grip on their arm tight. It resulted in their fingers digging into the meat of the deity’s neck, grip solid and unrelenting. 
“ You have some nerve showing your face, ”   the younger of the pair murmurs, mouth set in a deep frown.  “ I thought I told you to fuck off and not return. ”
“ Hnnh—What would Quinny say if... he could hear you now? If he... if he knew that innocent act of yours... was all bullsh—it! ”    Eros’ sentence cut off as Kennedy drew his body forward only to slam it back against the wall. Pain radiated along his back, jolts shooting along his spine and causing him to gasp out in agony.
“ Bring him back, ”    Kennedy continued on as if the other man didn’t speak, looking almost bored if it wasn’t for the bright hue of their eyes.
Eros would of spat at them if he had the ability to.   “ Fuck... you. ”
Kennedy’s eyes flashed dangerously and their grip tightened considerably, close to cutting off almost all of the other God’s airflow. Eros wasn’t prepared for how strong the other was, feeling his body seize up as the hold got stronger.
“ You seem to have forgotten what I told you last time you came around. I have no qualms in killing you right now. Bring my brother back to me, ”   Kennedy growls, barely flinching as Eros’ nails dug into their wrist, a sad means to try and pry them off. He was starting to feel lightheaded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer at the rate things were progressing.
“ You... would really... kill me? Knowing... we share the same... body? ”
“ I can find a way to bring Quinn back. You, on the other hand, need to die and never return. No one will miss you. Quinn has repaired everything you have broken and I refuse to allow you to return and mess that up. ”
Eros’ eyes squeezed shut, grip less tight, the lack of oxygen making his body feel heavy. Kennedy must not have been done with him, though, for their grip slackened slightly. It was enough for him to suck in air but not enough for him to break free of the hold. Bastard.
“ You seemed to... have forgotten... that this body belongs... belongs to me. He is... an intruder. This life... is mine. I refuse... to let go. ”
“ No, you’re holding on because you have hope, ”   Kennedy cut in with a grunt and a headshake.    “ You have hope your deceased lover will return to you. You have hope that things will just fix themselves so you allow yourself to sit in the shadows like a coward. You don’t care about this life or this body, if your failed attempts at ending it is to show for anything. You want to play devil’s advocate but fail to realize that no one wishes to keep you around. For centuries I allowed you to bully and torture me. To use me like you used everyone else. You are bitter and undeserving of the things you acquire, including Psyche. I detest no one more then I do you, Eros. I may look like you but we are nothing alike. I allow you to live because Quinn allows you to. So bring him back and you can remain in the background and wait to see her again, or I will rip your throat out right now and let that be the end of you. ”
Eros felt the tears welling in his eyes, body sagging in defeat. He refused to admit it out loud, though. He knew this round wasn’t in his favor, knew he would have to give up in order to progress forward like he intended. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t give one last fuck you to the other cherub, though. Eros was nothing if not consistent.
“ You... you cling to him because he’s... kind to you... but never forget... you were made for me... and you will always... belong to me, Anteros.”
“ FUCK YOU, EROS! RELEASE HIM. NOW! " 
“ K-Kenns... ”
The body held in Kennedy’s grip fell to a heap on the floor upon release, doubled over and coughing violently. His mind was foggy and his body felt sore, throat constricting and feeling aflame with each cough that he let out. He felt gentle hands, warm and familiar on his back, rubbing at the center in calm, soothing motions. He felt like he was breaking through the surface after being pulled underwater, cold all over and trembling. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he gulped air, arms wrapped around his middle as those same kind hands pushed long stands of hair from his face.
“ Breathe slowly. It will hurt less, ”   Kennedy says softly, voice honeyed and kind. Always so kind.
He leaned forward and let his head rest on the other God’s chest, taking slow, measured breaths, eyes blinking open but vision cloudy. Kennedy was speaking to him but he couldn’t hear, for his gaze caught sight of himself in the ornate mirror hung against the wall opposing them. He could see the dark bruise around the base of his throat, almost like a brand against his skin. Could see flashes of narrowed rose petal pink eyes, bright and glowing in the back of his mind. Distorted words of   ’rip out your throat’   playing in a loop in his head in a voice both familiar and foreign.
The body he leant against was Kennedy’s but the sight of them holding him seemed strange. There was a side of the other cherub he hadn’t seen, a side that caused bruises the shape of handprints and violent transgressions. Quinn had never been fearful of Kennedy before, but in that moment he was on the precipice of slow building terror.
And he would soon realize that this was only the beginning—because now Eros was awake... and he seemed ready to reclaim the life that Quinn had stolen from him.
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aomori-triplets · 2 months ago
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“If we get one more letter addressed to Hikari Aomori, someone’s gonna die—and it’s not gonna be me.”
“We’re still getting letters like that?”
Gyoubai nods.
“Shit, that’s gotta stop.”
“Yeah.”
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theslowesthnery · 4 months ago
I always try and educate (when there's genuine confusion) about the term, but I don't use "proshipper" to describe myself. Not because I don't think I am one, but because this "we vs them" all originated because of fantis. It just became so stupid. All this for DRAWINGS
The worst part is as you said, you're dubbed a pedophile just by saying "hey, maybe don't go so far as sending death threats and doxxing people without concrete evidence" and that's really really scary
I might sound harsh, but there is no "proshipper" and "antishipper". It's people with decency and absolute degenerate psicopaths
you’re right, it’s the stupidest. i would be so fucking happy if i woke up one day and this whole conflict was just gone, if we were back to respecting people’s privacy, to not harassing people over what they create or like in fiction, to just avoiding stuff we don’t want to see. i would love nothing more than not having to call myself a proshipper or anything of the sort, if i could just vibe and look at art and read fics and draw what i want, tagging things accordingly and letting the people who create stuff i’m not into do their own thing.
and honestly, you’re not being harsh at all, that’s what it boils down to. people like to both-sides the issue, going “oh i don’t know, harassing people is bad but pro-shippers are bad too, i just don’t know who’s in the wrong here” like really? one side thinks death threats and doxxing and driving someone (minors included) to suicide is okay, and one side thinks it isn’t! how can people look at that and go “i don’t know, both sides are kinda bad...”
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janiedean · 11 months ago
You are a disgusting piece of shit that deserves to die slowly and painfully.
well, if you’re who I think you are I think you could benefit from a good look in the mirror, just saying ;) 
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