#bring forth the guillotine

[scavengedluxury]

Silver Bullet - Bring Forth The Guillotine

[cliozaur]

In this chapter, we encounter THAT famously long sentence spanning 760 words in original. Truly impressive.

We have already encountered Louis Philippe in the gamin digression, where he was portrayed as a pleasant and self-ironic man whose only flaw was his status as king. Hugo's perspective on him remains consistent. Although the 1830 Revolution didn't result in a Republic, it did bring forth a decent man as king. Given Hugo's critical stance towards monarchy, it's rather peculiar that he invests effort in highlighting Louis Philippe's humility, modesty, and unroyal demeanour. Probably, part of Louis Philippe's appeal to the French population was his experience, having endured exile with its attendant challenges — financial loss, loss of status, and his entire family needing to earn their livelihoods. He also possessed a revolutionary past, having been a member of the Jacobins' club and personally knowing Mirabeau and Danton.

Though not explicitly mentioned in the text, it's worth noting a point in Louis Philippe's later biography that parallels Hugo's own experiences — spending the last years of his life in exile in Great Britain. I suspect that Louis Philippe's futile fight to abolish the death penalty was also a point of resonance for Hugo. “One day, he said to the same witness to whom we have recently referred: “I won seven last night.” During the early years of his reign, the death penalty was as good as abolished, and the erection of a scaffold was a violence committed against the King. The Grève having disappeared with the elder branch, a bourgeois place of execution was instituted under the name of the Barrière-Saint-Jacques; “practical men” felt the necessity of a quasi-legitimate guillotine.”

However, at times, Hugo tends to exaggerate Louis Philippe's accomplishments, such as in the case of press freedom: “While he reigned the press was free, the tribune was free, conscience and speech were free.” Well, to some extent… No outright censorship was enforced, but a 1830 law of libel functioned as a form of censorship.

[call-sign-shark]

⚡ BY THE EYE OF THE STORM || INTRO⚡(repost)

Serie info HERE please read

Pairing:  Hangman x Pilot!reader,  Dagger Squad x Pilot!Reader (platonic)

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You are called back to Top Gun one year after your graduation for a deadly mission. Why? Because you were the top score of the school ever recorded for a long time. Nevertheless, that first day does not go very well. On top of understanding the danger of the mission and how risky it is, you already start a rivalry with one member of the Dagger Squad… Ltd Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Warning: Military inaccuracies, conflictual relationship, mention of biological weapons, tensions between characters, reader meeting some members of the Dagger Squad for the first time <3 (that’s cute tho)

Tag list: @dempy @potato-girl99981 @callme-fox @djs8891

Notes:

Shark is reader’s best friend and OP’s OC.

Please don’t hesitate to reblog or like if you enjoyed it 🦈 (it brings me so much joy lmao)

Ask if you want to be added to the taglist

The Serie will be interactive: choose at the end of each chapter.

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Biological weapons facilities.

Maverick’s sharp words fell upon them like a guillotine blade on a condemned man’s neck.  You detailed the discomfited faces of your nearer colleagues with a discreet glance. Bob and Phoenix looked at each other, a glimmer of concern flickering in their eyes.  Hangman, faithful to himself, rocked back and forth on his chair. His thin lips had stretched in a smirk no one managed to decipher. You could not tell if he had welcomed such information as a challenge or if it was his way of coping with the gravity of the situation. As for Rooster, he had leaned over his desk, his elbow pressing against the wooden surface. He started stroking his mustache with a thoughtful look gracing his tanned face. 

“Fuck, that’s a big deal.”  A feminine and always-playful voice croaked next to you and popped your thoughts bubble. Shark seemed excited.

“Yeah, I know.” That was all you managed to answer. All the other things you could have uttered remained trapped in your throat, tightened by anxiety. A small sigh escaped from your rosy lips. When Beau “Cyclone” Simpson called you and Shark back to Top Gun one year after your graduation, you knew it was not a good sign. As soon as you recognized the phone number on your smartphone’s screen,  a chilling thrill went down your spine. It had been as if your deepest instinct whispered in your ear to ignore the call.  However, you ended up shooing away that unpleasant feeling and here you were, sitting in the briefing room with your fellow pilots who had been chosen for such a suicidal mission. You exhaled slowly through your nose, attempting to keep the straightest face possible. Maverick had paused for one solid minute to let the Dagger Squad have the time they needed to assimilate the news. Then, he resumed his explanations.

“Our first role will be to locate the facilities.” His quiet voice captivated everyone’s attention in the room without even trying. You, and all the other pilots, were drinking his words, obliterating the external world despite the constant cacophony of engines roaring and soldiers screaming outside.

“That is to say, we will make as many air patrols as needed until we know exactly where are all the facilities and their warehouses.” Maverick wrote down the words AIR PATROLS in capital letters on the whiteboard he was standing next to. The black pen squeaked on the surface. “ I know, you probably think that those patrols are no big deals. That’s where you’re wrong. Reports said this rogue nation has air strike forces… Which means they have pilots ready to blow up your jets.” He wrote down the words ENNEMY JETS below his first scribble.

You blinked several times as you understand that you will all risk your life each time you will fly above suspicious zones. Not once, not twice, but as many times as it takes to locate the facilities. Usually, the first part of the plan was the easiest. If that was the most doable part, you were not eager to know the rest of it.

“And what happens next?” Payback’s voice echoed from the back of the room. He was sitting right behind Hangman, eyes staring at Maverick and fingers fidgeting his pen since the beginning of the briefing. “We bomb them?” 

Maverick tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised and remained silent. He was waiting for Payback to understand by himself how absurd his question was. Yet, the revelation never seemed to come. You exhaled once again, a bit noisier this time, before raising your hand to talk.

“Blowing up facilities filled with biological weapons might not be the most… Efficient way to get rid of the problem.” You said calmly. Captain Mitchell nodded at your words and went on with the plan. 

“As Storm just said, blowing up tanks of dangerous biological shit is everything except a good idea. We don’t want viruses or I don’t know what else to spread in nature and infect the population.” 

You heard Shark snort, amused by your remark. You were about to smile at her when you caught another voice commenting on what you just said. “No shit Sherlock.”  You turned your head, looking dagger at Jake, who stared back at you with a cocky grin. The hell was his problem, you thought. However, you ignored such a childish reaction to focus back on Maverick’s frame. 

“Once we know their locations, we will help the Marines’ intervention. They will dismantle the facilities on the ground, while we will destroy their air force and keep them from escaping and using their biological weapons. Not one single of their aircraft must leave the perimeter.”  

Silence fell a second time in the room.

“And do we know what kind of infectious agent they use?” This time that was Bob’s shy and slightly shaky voice that broke the silence.

“Cyclone’s highest bet is smallpox or anthrax. Mine’s mycotoxins, but the real answer to that question is that we don’t know for sure yet.” 

While you kept your cool the whole briefing, you could not help but pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes for a few seconds. You felt a headache, which had been threatening you since this morning, start to hammer your skull. What happened next was kind of blurry for you. What you remembered was that Maverick explained what jets he thought would suit the best for the mission, and how your training will mainly focus on dogfights and on sharpening your maneuvers. That was only when you heard the sound of the Captain clapping his hands and telling you to leave the meeting room that your mind snapped back to reality. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine before you got up from your chair and left the room.

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“Hey, Raingirl! Wait a minute!” You glanced behind you at the familiar voice. You could recognize that slightly raspy and psychotic tone among thousands of others. You stopped, waiting for Shark to catch up.

“Are ya’ in a hurry or what?”  She cheered, wrapping one of her arms around your shoulders in a friendly embrace, before leaving the building with you.

“You seem rather excited for someone who has a high risk of dying during her next mission.” You answered, teasing.

“Aw ya know, I’m just trying to put the laughter in slaughter.”  

As soon as you felt the warm sunrays caressing your skin, you shut your eyelids for a few seconds and paused the conversation. A faint smile adorned your rosy lips. After hours and hours of being locked up in a dull and far too climatized room, the feeling of the sun kissing your face was a real treat. You slowly opened your Y/EC eyes and looked at your best friend. Shark was a petite woman with icy blue eyes and light blonde hair that she would usually style in long dutch braids during her service. Outside, she would wear pigtails or let her wild mane down. The first time you heard about her was during your first week in Top Gun’s program. You wondered how the hell someone’s callsign could be “shark”. Yet, you understood as soon as your eyes fell on her: when she was smiling, her mouth would stretch and her lips would reveal two rows of perfectly aligned but sharp teeth. Due to a natural birth defect, all of her teeth, except her incisors, were shaped like fangs. On top of that, the woman had odd scars on each side of her neck, similar to gills slits. Despite that slightly creepy smile of hers, you both soon became inseparable to the point she became your wingman.

“You truly have zero self-preservation.” You concluded your sentence with a wink. “And you ain’t even funny, Fish head.” 

Shark was about to say something but someone else’s voice resonated

“Don’t leave yet, I couldn’t wait to talk to both of you after Mav’s presentation.” A dark-haired woman with her hair combed in a neat ballet bun and brown cunning eyes walked towards you, followed by her RIO Bob. They stopped in front of you: “The name’s Phoenix and he, he’s Bob. I’m more than happy two see two other girls here. Welcome to the Dagger Squad.” She said, with a little but adorable smile on her face “I really look forwards to flying with you.  I heard you were the best.” 

“Nah, Storm’s the best. I’m second.” Shark answered, looking at you with pride.

You shook your head, chuckling. You never liked boasting about your results and your flying skills. All you did was work your ass off and always try to do your best. Yet, the truth was that you truly were a gifted pilot. You slipped one of the messy bangs of your Y/HC hair behind your ear.

“I appreciate your compliments about my abilities, I really do. But y’all are talented as fuck too. Pretty sure we’ll make a good team.” You offered your most charming smile you could to Phoenix and Bob. 

Funnily enough, the man with big glasses remained silent for the whole conversation. Sometimes he would crack a tiny hesitant smirk before staring back at his feet. Even though this one did not belong to the talkative kind, he seemed genuinely nice.

“Didn’t know they would hire baby pilots for such an important mission.”  The good mood you had managed to bring back shattered in million of pieces at those venomous words spat by Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin. The tall blonde pilot was leaning against the building, arms crossed on his muscular chest. His eyes, small green jewels shimmering with a mocking glow, looked hard at you. All of your body tensed as you sensed his arrogant attitude. You straightened up to your full height and stared back at him with a freezing gaze. Obviously, you knew who was that cocky soldier. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s reputation was following him: he was one of the few pilots who had confirmed kills. Noticing the challenging look you had on your face, Jake closed his jaws in one quick gesture, biting the toothpick he had between his lips. Then, the man graciously moved his frame toward you until you were both facing each other. 

“With all due respect, you are far too novice for this mission. I don’t know why Mav’ agreed to let you join us, but you don’t belong here.” He said, with a calm yet bossy tone. 

“With all due respect, you can go fuck yourself.” You snapped, causing him to laugh.

“Yeah suck it. Who do you think you are uh?” Shark added.

“Playing the tough girls?” 

“Seriously what the fuck Hangman, if they are here it’s for a good reason.” Phoenix interrupted. She was not bearing this kind of behavior. You simply made a slight head movement to the dark-haired woman to thank her.  Then, you shift back your attention to Hangman, staring at him with intensity as if you were etching the slightest detail of his good-looking face in your mind.

“I am perfectly where I should be. If you think I don’t belong here, well that’s not my problem.  If my presence bothers you,  guess what? That’s not my problem. And if you want to sing the blues to Capt. Mitchell, that’s also not my problem. In the meantime, I’ll just take your aggressive attitude and your arrogance as a way of coping with your lack of confidence.”

Hangman clenched his jaw, vaguely discountenanced by your sharp tongue. Nevertheless, you did not manage to wipe his presumptuous smile off his face.

“Alright, baby bird, let’s see how long you last until I cut your wings… And before I cut your friend’s fins.”  He hissed through his teeth.

“Storm. “

“Sorry?” He raised a brow.

“Call me baby bird one last time and I’ll punch your face. The name’s Storm.”  You turned your back to him and grabbed Shark by the wrists before leaving.

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You walked on the beach, trying to cool down your nerves by taking big inhales of the sea air that was floating around the base.  The salty scent was soothing and soon, you found yourself at peace again. You took a quick glance at Shark, who was looking at the dancing waves of the ocean with a contemplative look.

“Don’t worry Fish head. You know we belong here.” You said, with the more reassuring tone your could have. The bubbly blonde girl grinned at your words. You smiled back at her grin, rendered slightly disturbing because of her fangs - but you were used to it.

“I don’t. I trust Capt Mitchell. Quite the contrary, I am wondering how Hangman will react tomorrow.” Her fingers were playing with the tips of one of her braids.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when he’ll see that you are far better than him.” 

You snorted, amused. 

“For sure, I’ll show him.” 

You said, feeling the storm brewing.

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READER CHOICE:

[go talk to HANGMAN] or [go to the Hard Deck]

[jadedaceofspades]

So... I've been seeing posts about "eat the rich" and "bring out the guillotine" when it comes to these rich people and politicians and so on and so forth... And like, I'm with you 100%. Do away with them. But you all better hold the same energy for the murderers and rapists that are in prison.

"But those people need to be treated like humans!" I'm sorry but raping someone and murdering someone is also taking away someone's bodily autonomy, so, why is Joe Schmo, who murdered and mutilated women, different from the 95 year old politician who is telling women to give birth to non-viable fetuses and if she dies, it's whatever? Oh, that's right. There is none.

Prison abolitionists are some of the most hypocritical people because on one hand they'll want the "right people" wo be sent to jail and treated like crap, but if you mention that you're glad a child molester got killed in prison, all of a sudden, you don't care about human rights because "well, you know, he can be rehabilitated." No, Piper-Anne, you can't change him as much as you wish you could. His corpse is a welcome to survivors because it's one monster down but many more to go; and this included murderers, rapists, politicians and the ilk; You know... the people who are okay with taking away other people's human rights and bodily autonomy.

[dayurno]

DAYURNO HELP. i cannot for the life of me figure out the keremy dynamic out of kerejean. my brain won’t allow it to compute. it’s like making 2 barbies kiss bc you don’t have a ken but instead of turning into a beautiful lesbian awakening it’s just…..banging plastic til you get bored and bring out the guillotine.

i’ve always got the kevjean and jerejean parts down. but my prompter for daylight fest wants kerejean and i’ll be DAMNED if i cannot give it to them!!! i want to provide!!!

i need your tips, O beholder of kerejean wisdom.

(p.s. i asked anonymously bc i still want to keep my prompt as secret as possible until it’s posted)

ANON............................ i understand you deeply i think writing ANYTHING with jeremy at any point is so hard because where he stands in canon right now he's literally nothing girl he's lines... he's words... he's nothing at all.... i am no beholder of kerejean wisdom i am as much of a newbie as you are and probably even worse but i'll give it the old college try for you

for me the most interesting part of writing k/jr is exactly that newness; the fact that they have been loving rivals for a long time but not properly friends; having an idealized version of the other but not actually knowing any of the minutiae of the other's personality. i said earlier that i think the keremy song of all time is 'guilty pleasure' by chappell roan and i stand by it! i think k/jr is, at first, less about Feelings and more about the physical attraction, if that makes sense? with most kevin ships we part from the emotional side because almost everyone he's shipped with has a strong emotional connection to him, but for k/jr i've always felt that the physicality comes first and then the rest. we joke about kevin's exy crush on jeremy but i think that's one of the easiest ways to actually conceptualize feeling attracted to jeremy, and i think kevin definitely would see it that way because he has no other framework to understand it

that being said i think the most fun characterization for jeremy (to me!) is him taking a hammer to kevin's preconceptions and being like hm. well. you could try it if you want to! i called them a budding lesbian friendship slowly escalating into something more AND I STAND BY IT...... i think jeremy is an unstoppable force and kevin is not an unmoveable object... the way k/jr works for me is similar to how k/t works for me, which is that jeremy pokes and prods at kevin's worldview both by existing near him but also by actively pushing kevin and trying to find where his limits are. this is of course entirely sexual but also not! kevin says 'the world is like this' and jeremy says 'it doesn't have to be', kevin says 'the world is a bad place' and jeremy says 'then change it!' and so on and so forth. i like them :)

i have some conversations noted down for their relationship in my first time / first light fic so here's a few i think encapsulate a little bit of what i mean?

and here's a funny one to help you cope with that last one:

i hope it helped!!!!! somewhat! but honestly we are getting some kevin/jeremy interactions in the daybreak stadium so i think you can just sit around and wait for some canon dynamics!

[kutmusic]

“Bring Forth the Guillotine” launched the solo career of britcore pioneer Silver Bullet. 35 years after their original publication, Kutmusic is proud to rerelease the three remixes and making them finally available on all digital stores and streaming services!

[saga-project]

"Just go in. Just go in, you idiot. Even if they end up kicking you out, at least you'll know then. You'll know what they really thought of you this whole time. Just....it's easy. Go in. Go in." That was the mantra that Saga had been repeating to themselves for the past ten minutes or so as they stalked back and forth at the official entrance to the lair, breathing picking up in spite of their better efforts. What if their brothers judged them for this. What if they'd just put on a friendly face in all of those texts to lure them into a false sense of security, so that they'd come back and face the same treatment from their family that Rakshan had given to them all those--

No. No. His family wasn't like that. They'd never--

"Don?"

Oh he absolutely could not do this. He'd decided. He was going to slide into the tunnel that was immediately next to the entrance and pray that they wouldn't--

And of course they were all there, looking in at him with wide eyes. Of course. Of course. Just his luck.

"Don? Hey. Do you wanna....come out?" Raph's voice, now, so gentle. So.....no, no, Raph was fooling him into thinking it was okay, any minute now the guillotine would fall and they'd cast him out and he'd be back on the streets again--

"G-get away from me. Just leave," he gritted out, hissing under his breath as he turned his face away from them.

"Don, we're not leavin'. We just wanna know what's going on. We're not gonna yell, we're just happy you're back--"

"Go away! Just leave!" Why was he saying that, he didn't mean it, why was he reverting back to everything that he'd said to Theatre and Leon and all the rest of them when he was trying so hard to convince them that he was a monster so they'd leave him, he was fine, this was his family, they wouldn't throw him out, they--

"We--"

You're fine you're fine you're fine just calm down you know they wanted you back you know--

But of course, Saga's treacherous brain was louder than his heart, in that moment. And that was what made him snap, spinning towards the mouth of the tunnel and baring his teeth in a feral snarl. "DON'T YOU GET IT, RAPH? I SCREWED EVERYTHING UP."

"No you--"

He gasped in a breath of air. Another, another. God, he felt like he was drowning. Like he was floating further and further away from the safety of the anchor, adrift in a seemingly endless sea. "For FIVE SECONDS I thought.....I thought I could be part of a family again. Like I wasn't so fucked in the head that I can't even act like a proper brother. But I just.....I'm just a stupid.....lonely.....fucked up monster, I-"

"No you're not." Leo's voice now, quiet. "You're our brother."

"I was your brother before. You want him back. Not me. Not someone who can't even sit through a fucking thunderstorm without going into SAVAGE mode. Not someone who has nightmares every fucking night. Not someone who's killed upwards of a hundred people or more, and who can still feel the blood sometimes, and who was taught that he has to be the perfect fucking soldier, and who can't even be affectionate with his family unless he's not even in fucking control of himself!" Saga was practically screaming themselves hoarse now, but they couldn't bring themselves to care. They'd tear their throat raw and bloody then, if it meant that their family would finally just listen to what they were saying.

"....Don."

"I can't....I just.....I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe that I was worthy of having a family again. I wanted to believe that I could.....that I could be the person you want me to be. But I can't. And I ruined everything. And I almost hurt you. Because I'm too fucked in the head. And if you want to get rid of me, or....or....I don't know. I'll....I'll accept it. I'm just.....so tired of lying to all of you. Of pretending that I'm a good person. I'm....I'm not. Not anymore." A terrifying silence stretched on for several minutes after that, and Saga continued, trying to fill it, gasping and choking over their words. "And the worst part is that I fought so hard to get back here, but you would all be so much better off without me. Or at least it feels that way sometimes. And then I just confirmed it. You know, sometimes i just want to.....and it doesn't make any sense. I don't want to.....to die, I just.....I'm just so tired. When I'm not in control of myself, it's the only time that I'm....that I'm not tired. That I'm not scared. That I don't have to think about anything. About being a monster. About the fact that I hurt people for years. I....I didn't want you to find out. I was afraid that if you knew, you.....but I guess I screwed that up too."

Their words weren't making sense anymore. They knew that, as they drew their knees up to their chest and buried their face within them. "You've all been so nice to me and I don't deserve it and I don't know how to be a part of a family again and I ruined it and now you know how screwed up I am and you'll leave and...god, I fought and killed so many people, I'm not a hero like you guys are and I'm sorry that I can't be and--"

There was a hand gently being laid on his face. Saga flinched away from it for a moment, hissing--but it wasn't his brothers. It was his father, looking at him with a heartbreakingly vulnerable expression on his face. "Oh, my son. My brave little purple. If I had had any idea of what you went through....you could have come and talked to me. I am sorry if it seemed as though you could not. I know the horrors of the Nexus all too well. To think that they made a child fight there is a new brand of cruelty--" Splinter seemed to trip over his words then, angry tears coursing down his whiskers, and all Saga could do was stare.

"....Dad-"

"I could not protect you, Donatello. And I am so very sorry for it. But do not think yourself a monster for being forced to act upon the whims of others. It is not those actions that make you who you are. It is your feelings."

"But.....even you grew to.....and I....I got used to it. I learned to like it. All the fights and the killing. Doesn't that--doesn't that make me a monster?"

"My son. Why might that have been."

"....because it was expected. Because it was.....them or me. O-oh."

"Exactly."

Mikey stepped forward then, voice soft but no less kind. "You're not messed up. I know you weren't trying to hurt me, Don. It was just your brain being all weird. You're not a monster, I'm not afraid of you. You're just....you. You're allowed to feel things and be messy, that's all part of healing! Take it from Doctor Feelings."

"And nothing you could say or do would stop us from bein' your brothers." Raph, now. "I'm sorry that we made you feel like you had to hide it, and I'm sorry that you felt that bad and you felt like you couldn't come to us. We're gonna change that, okay? Whatever you wanna talk about, we're here."

"Personally-" And here Leo approached, laying a careful hand on Saga's shoulder. "I kinda think you're the one good thing that came out of that shithole."

And when Saga glanced up at all of them, finally uncurling himself from his borderline fetal position, all he could see was sincerity in their gaze. He saw no traces of a lie, nothing to indicate that they were hiding their true feelings from him. No. These were his brothers. His family. They loved him. No matter what he did. And while he couldn't guarantee that he would never feel this way again, never potentially fear their reaction to one of his oddities--

--he couldn't deny that Bee and Theatre's words being validated was a nice feeling. He let out a shaky breath, then, glancing at all of them in turn. "But....but I don't know how to be a....a brother."

"You were off to a pretty good start, Don."

"One step at a time. You're our family, Don. We love you. No matter how messed up you might be."

A long, shaky exhale. A glance up at the ceiling, while they swiped the tears from their vision. ".....okay. okay. I....I want to go home. Take me home. Where.....where my family is."

"Sure thing, Don. Come on, let's get you the rest of the way back....hey, are those cupcakes?"

".....my friend Bee made them. The one I got my name from. They're very good."

"Oh, man, I can't wait to try them, you'll have to tell me all about-"

And as they gently helped to carry both him and the cupcakes back inside the lair, Saga looked around at his surroundings, gently smiling to himself. This place....it didn't feel like a complete alien landscape to him anymore. It felt safe. Warm. Like clothes straight out of the dryer. Like sinking into bed after a long day of work. Like home.

For the first time in nearly a decade, Saga allowed himself to believe that it was his. And that he was here to stay.

[sheryl-lee]

yoyoyoyoyoyoyoy girl how ARE you I hope you're not still suffering w the nose and the throat and the fatigue and such which and so forth :( post-finals should be reserved for heavy duty r&r !!!! AAAAnyway ask game: 1, 10, and 26 ♥️♥️♥️

hey flo!!! thankfully i'm not sick anymore - i literally only started feeling 100% back to normal like. yesterday. so i was sick for FOUR (4) WEEKS. it took everything out of me. i was so medicated and feverish for the first 2 weeks that i basically i hallucinated my way through the first half of december. and i had to take my finals whilst coughing and sneezing and popping cough drops every 2 minutes which was uh really Fun. felt like i'd fought in a battle and barely made it out. but thankfully finals are final(ly) over, i'm feeling better, and a girl can get some REST.

but on to the asks!!!

1. who is/are your comfort character(s)?

my definition of comfort character is not what you'd find in the dictionary dfjdfjfdk im going with

(mr. flopson himself) kendall roy

will graham (cracker)

robin buckley (i love her so much it's Unreal)

natasha romanoff (deserved better </333 cl*nt where you at 🔪)

yennefer (would let her kill me no question about it)

sokka (maybe the only actual comfort character on this list)

10. would you slaughter the rich?

um emphatically YES. what are we even waiting for. bring in the guillotine let's get started

26. a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

i want a cat. like fuck all this ~romance~ stuff i just need A Cat. i've wanted a pet forever and if i had a cat all my problems would disappear methinks but yeah i've been so serious about it lately that i've been just sitting and like. fully imagining my life with a cat and it would be wonderful i swear i'm normal

send me a weird ask

[zombieplaguedoc]

Okay, here's another idea:

I'm a Fillmore Graves soldier, and after I come home from training, I find a letter for me. In it, an anonymous person writes that Denmark will do all the horrible things to the Nordics and Sealand that happened in Danish Slaughterhouse, but doesn't say how they know. I am horrified but don't believe this until I visit Denmark one day and find a piece of paper in his room, talking a great deal about how Iceland is the fastest of the Nordics, which is then I start to believe the note. Yet I still don't want to cause a ruckus, so I hire one of the Fillmore Graves cadets (probably Fisher) to.....watch over Sealand- monitor where he goes, what he does, who he's with, who he talks to, what those interactions are like, from the time the Micronation wakes up to the time he goes to bed, and report back to me, and to also keep an extra close eye on any interactions he has with Denmark, to make sure nothing happens, and to immediately take action if Denmark hurts Sealand. Then, just to be safe, I hire a private investigator to watch over Iceland in the same way. Then I overthink it and soon a whole bunch of p.i.s are stalking the Nordics, watching their every move, and so on. This continues until Denmark catches one of the p.i.s and confronts him about it, to which he tells the Dane everything. Then Denmark tracks down and confronts me about it as I'm at the zombie guillotine. I try to deny it at first, but then, after his yelling nearly has me in tears, I admit it and confront him about the letter and what I found (neither of which I have on me), and we're going back and forth until I tell him I don't want to see him near Sealand or Iceland until I feel I can trust him, and he shoves me out of anger and my head lands on the platform and he goes to kick my hip but ends up kicking the lever for the guillotine instead, bringing it down on my head and killing me. Denmark is in shock and panics and decides to hide my body in a park while forging a note saying I was Renegade and I fled to avoid getting caught. It works until his guilt consumes him, between watching Chase carry out the search for me and watching Iceland get depressed because he thinks his girlfriend abandoned him, and he finally snaps and confronts Chase in his office. He confesses what he did and drags Chase out to where he buried my body before trying to shoot himself but Major subdues him and they take him back to the HQ and lock him up under surveillance. Chase goes forward with the truth and Denmark gets frozen.

[yellodisney]

[mayhemproduces]

The Villain, Tara Zep, makes her return to MPW, and enters her very first Clusterfuck! Tara hasn’t been in this business for very long, but where she lacks in experience as opposed to most of the people hanging out in the ring, she makes up for in intimidation, presence, and bloodthirst. Tara takes her sweet time getting to the ring, too, soaking up the atmosphere and mocking the fans before she gets in the ring, and she immediately heads after a corner trapped Eron Sky, nailing him with a running back elbow. Tara rolls forward and whips around, nearly sending his head into the first row with a huge running boot! Tara hangs in the ropes for a moment, a grin over her painted face, before she turns around, grabbing VIOLET by the head. She bounces off the ropes and spikes VIOLET with a DDT, but Zep holds on and rolls into a Guillotine Choke! We rarely see a submission happen early on in the Clusterfuck like this, especially when the ring is as filled up as it currently is, but a tap out will absolutely eliminate someone at any time. Thankfully, VIOLET isn’t given the chance, as Riley bails out her partner, breaking up the submission!

Tara stands up and gets in Riley’s face, coming nose to nose, before they start trading right hands! Rapid fires shots until Riley brings them back to the ropes, whipping Tara off. But she clings onto the ropes instead of rebounding. Riley charges at her - but Zep picks up a chair and launches it at Riley’s dome! It hits her straight on the top of the noggin! And if that wasn’t bad enough - Tara has skewers! She holds them up for all of Panama to see before jabbing them into Riley’s forehead, making sure they’re stuck deep in her skin. Blood already begins to ooze out of some of those needle like holes, but Tara isn’t done there With the legs folded up, she grabs Riley’s arms and pulls them back, before shoving Riley’s skewered head into the mat with a surfboard curb stomp! Goodnight, Riley! Tara covers to score her first elimination!

1… 2… Kickout!

Tara stands up, and gets walloped across the back by a steel chair, courtesy of Charli Evans! Tara stumbles, back arching from the pain, before grabbing onto a chair of her own. She uses it as a crutch for a moment before turning and swinging at Charli, nailing her in the side with it. They swing their chairs at each other, back and forth, until Charli nails the advantage, knocking Tara’s chair right out of her hands. Evans goes to swing - but Tara bites her hand! Charli has to let go of her chair as Tara sinks her teeth into Charli’s flesh - and here comes the next entrant!

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…

[bloodigutz]

headphones wont let me enjoy my fucking iPad kid time. bring forth the guillotine

[solarsonicsoda]

Wrestlemania Main Event Reviews - Wrestlemania XII

Shawn Michaels def. Bret Hart (c) in Overtime of a 60-Minute Iron Man Match for the WWF World Championship in 61:52

Jose Lothario comes down the ramp to Shawn’s intro and it is funny. Shawn comes down with the zipline! WHAT A RIDE! It is a pretty cool entrance! Bret’s out and we’re ready to go! We get to hear Hebner explain the rules but I don’t think the crowd can hear him.

Feeling each other out to begin, some nice mat wrestling as HBK tries to roll out a hold but Hart keeps it synched in. Hart is able to keep the headlock for a long long time and it’s kinda cool but maybe not the most exciting hold. Nice technical sequence when HBK breaks free that ends with him back in the headlock. Very nice. Hart going back to these head and neck holds is a fun little detail but does result in a lot of dead time. When these two get going, it’s great but this definitely has that retro, wear down style. HBK in control now working the arm. Quick burst as they battle back and forth to work their choice of body part. The crowd is not too hot in this one. The Huckster and the Nacho Man is mentioned on commentary as well as the Hollywood Backlot Brawl. Ah yes, this time in WWF.

Some punches and quick action sends Bret to the outside with a hurricanrana and the crowd love it. Hart sends HBK out with an Irish whip but he skins the cat, more running the rope and Hart trips HBK with a knee. He locks on the chin lock again. Shawn is out and gets the armbar on. Hart gets up, running the ropes from HBK and he gets caught with a spinebuster, Sharpshooter attempt and sends HBK out with a clothesline. Fight on the outside, Hart into the ring post and HBK accidentally superkicks the time keeper. That is probably the most high impact move so far, 15 minutes in. Hart locks in the chin lock again as the time keeper gets checked on. The time keeper is stretchered off as the chin lock stays on. HBK gets out with the arm drag takedown and sends Bret to the ropes who comes back with the clothesline and the chin lock is back on. I can’t decide if this match is too repetitive or not. Action out of the chin lock, Hart holds the ropes to avoid a roll-up but dropkick and Hart is down with his arm locked up again. Hart finds his feet as HBK yanks on the arm and eventually sends him back down. Cool stuff.

Hart rolls over to the chin lock but HBK reapplies the arm lock quickly after. Hart uses the elbow in the corner to get out and uppercuts to HBK. HBK Irish whips Hart but drags back with a knee to the gut and sends into the ring post. Then he flings the arm into the rope and capitalises on the arm with moves like and armbreaker and sending into the corners. Hart mounts a comeback but the attack to the arm from HBK takes him down and he slowly picks at the arm again. Hart gets up and stomps the face, but he’s hurt and HBK can get back to the attack. Hart gets out with a guillotine on the middle rope and slingshots HBK to the corner. His arm hurts but he gets a cover but HBK kicks out. He counters Bret and sends him facefirst to a turnbuckle. He goes for a corner crossbody but Hart dodges and kicks him as he balances on the top ropes. Hart attacks and hits a bulldog then goes up top. HBK tries to counter but Hart brings his head down with a knee, sending the referee down. He checks on him and HBK comes with the flurry, but kick out! Hart hits a piledriver but HBK kicks out! Hart goes up top and HBK stews, he throws Hart down and flips through with the West Coast Pop, backbreaker, kick out. Hart rolls out before Sweet Chin Music, but HBK leaps with a flying crossbody.

HBK back in the ring but gets Hart in the ring before ten. Top rope crossbody, Bret rolls through, kick out. Backslide battle, roll up, kick out. Fisherman’s suplex from HBK, kick out. HBK locks in a sleeper hold, Hart backs him into the corner to break but HBK locks it in again. Over 35 minutes gone now. Hart tries to back into the corner again but HBK sends him into the buckle himself. HBK flips out a back suplex, Hart into the corner, backdrop over and out sends HBK into the cameraman which is cool. Hart gets sick of waiting and heads out after HBK, slams HBK back-first into the post. Sends him back in, Hart picks at him. Sends him flying to the corner with high impact and then an elbow drop to the back. HBK tries to reverse but Hart has control. Kicks in the corner and a Banzai Drop to the back. Hart sends HBK to the corner, he flips up in recoil to the top rope, Hart hits a back suplex off the top, kick out. Great stuff. Camel clutch but HBK gets out, sunset flip but no dice. Hart regains control, sends him top rope. HBK punches Hart but blow to the gut as he goes for the double axe handle. Russian leg sweep by Hart. Corner Irish whip that makes a nasty noise, flings HBK out the ring, and also hits Jose Lothario with HBK’s boot. Irish whip into Lothario and the steel steps by Hart and mouths off the Lothario. Hart on top but HBK hits with some strikes, though Hart hits his own. Less than 15 minutes remain.

HBK is able to roll up Hart who sends him outside with a kick out. Suicide dive from Hart. Apron suplex to HBK, reversed, reversed again with a German suplex from Bret. Strikes back and forth with HBK on his knees, big headbutt downs HBK. 10 minutes remain. HBK slowly fights out another head hold. Double clothesline. HBK connects with some strikes but Hart puts him up top. Superplex but Hart is tired. Sharpshooter attempt but HBK kicks out from the tie up. Single leg Boston crab on HBK but he gets the ropes. Backbreaker from Hart and 5 minutes remain. Hart on the middle rope with something but HBK with both feet to the face. Dropkick from HBK and he’s super tired. Forearm in the corner and Irish whip to the other corner. Hart throws him to the ropes but he returns with a flying forearm. Kip up from Shawn and he hits the back elbow off the ropes. Powerslam and a double axe handle. Suplex from HBK and then the elbow drop off the top. Kick out. Gutwrench suplex from HBK and a moonsault but no win. Hart sends him to the corner but quick big boot. Hurricanrana pin off the middle rope but kick out. Powerslam and a minute remains. Top rope but Hart counters and the Sharpshooter is locked in! HBK won’t give up and time expires at 0-0!

Hart leaves with the belt but President Monsoon has a word with Hebner. Sudden death overtime rules! There must be a winner! Hart is not happy but he comes back in. Shawn is still down holding his back as Hart mouths off in the ring. Things restart and Hart wails on HBK. The back is targeted with strikes and a backdrop. Backbreaker, Irish whip to the corner, HBK jumps over Hart coming in and hits Sweet Chin Music! They’re both down! Sweet Chin Music again as they both get to their feet and Shawn covers for a strong three count! The boyhood dream has come true! He’s emotional in the ring and Hart walks out before HBK even stands. Both Shawn and the crowd’s celebration is more tired and reflective than most! What a battle! 

Pros: Smart action, callbacks, some nice spots, nice closing sequences, big win, big fight feel, story Cons: Long, not enough action between wear-down spots, crowd quiet for stretches

This match is divisive and I think I fall towards the more positive side of things. Watching it in the middle of the day helped but the length, while definitely a feat, didn’t drag too much. I think the first half spent a bit too long in unexciting holds, and while this made the action we got more thrilling as well as having some cool moments within it, I think more action could have been added whilst still keeping the excitement and the holds could have been more engaging. There were some great moments though, and when things got going, they really got going. The match was maybe ambitious, but it was two greats who gave it their all. The story was also nice, both the triumph HBK dreamed of and the in-ring tale of HBK defying what Bret expected and taking after his style and both men battling to target a limb better, even when it wasn’t obvious. Would have made more sense for Bret to target the back and Shawn to target the head and neck but that’s kind of besides the point. It was a clinic but not without its flaws, and I could see how it could have any rating from 3-5 stars honestly, and maybe even further. 

4 STARS OUT OF 5

[stories-from-peter]

The Value of One Finger

I worked in a small print shop when I was in my early twenties. Ed, the foreman, was a nice man but very nervous even at the best of times. If anything went wrong he became a complete wreck. One day we found him in the stock room banging his head against the wall after a customer had complained.

We had a book to deliver on a Friday afternoon. It was not well designed and the spine was much too thick from the binding method that was used. My job that morning was to trim all the books to size. Since the spine was so thick I had trouble fitting more than one book at a time in the cutter. Unless I could trim more than one book at a shot there was no way I would get them all done in time for delivery.

I came up with a clever way to fit three books in the cutter. My method required me to put my hand over and behind the hydraulics and push the spines down. That gave me the chance to bring down the hydraulic clamp that held everything in place to keep the books flat. Then I could safely trigger the heavy steel guillotine blade to cut the books. A steel panel covered the hydraulics so I couldn't see how close my fingers came to the clamp as it came down. The hydraulic clamp used about 600 pounds of pressure to hold everything perfectly still for the cutter blade.

 I was working along quite happily and the books were getting trimmed much faster than expected. I felt a sharp pain in my left index finger and pulled it out of the cutter just in time to see a small drop of blood ooze out from the corner of the finger nail. I felt a bit queasy and sat down for a minute.

One of the bindery workers yelled out that I had been hurt. Ed came running over as fast as he could. By the time he reached me I felt much better and had a look at the tiny drop of blood on the edge of my finger. I wiped it off as Ed checked me over and he started to go into panic mode. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance. I insisted that I was fine and it was only one drop of blood.

Cooler heads stopped the call for an ambulance. We managed to talk Ed down from an ambulance to a taxi to take me to the hospital. Ed insisted that I needed emergency medical attention and I should take the rest of the day off. How could I resist that offer?

 I sat in Vancouver General Hospital's emergency room for about an hour before a nurse came to talk to me. I had been watching the parade of cases as they came in. I felt a bit embarrassed by my lack of symptoms. One man with a stab wound to his thigh was covered in blood from the waist down. A stretcher carrying a drug overdose case rolled past me. A drunk with his hair matted with blood was trying to explain who he was to the admitting nurse. A few crying children and moaning adults waited more or less patiently for some attention.

A nurse walked briskly up to me and asked me what was wrong. I explained how the corner of my finger became slightly crushed. I added that I was only there at the insistence of my employer. A second drop of blood had obligingly squeezed out in the time since I left work. The nurse said "I'll get you a doctor".

Another hour later a young intern came by to see me. I repeated the story of my grave injury and showed him the drop of dried blood still on the edge of my finger nail. The doctor said "I'll get you a nurse".

A while later a nurse showed up with a square cardboard box and a strange device that looked like a small tube of chicken wire. She pulled the end of a roll of gauze from the box, threaded it through the chicken wire thing and began to expertly wind the gauze back and forth over my finger. She kept this up until my finger had so much gauze on it that it was the size of a light bulb.

The nurse stood up and admired her work briefly before telling me I was free to go. I walked out of the emergency room trying to hide the gauze bulb and headed home. As I passed a garbage can I dropped the light bulb of gauze into it.

When I got back to work on Monday Ed asked if I was OK and told me he had opened a case with the Workers Compensation Board. He told me I was owed some consideration for my injury. I expected to get a reply from a faceless bureaucrat explaining that they don't compensate you for losing 2 drops of blood.

A few months later, after the WCB had carefully considered the facts of my case, I got a cheque in the mail. It was accompanied by a short letter explaining that they had calculated the degree of suffering I endured and the cheque was a reflection of their assessment. The amount was $1.59. I think the amount was about right.

[scavengedluxury]

Nothing to see here, just our “apolitical” royals vetting more than 1,000 laws to serve their financial interests. How do we vote this lot out?

[milqueandsugar]

Can we get a ghostbur x reader where reader is also a ghost? Maybe just some cute ghost shenanigans or cuddling

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff

| Guillotine |

Rain patterns against the cobble stone walkway as you stumbled through the night, the umbrella in your hands trembling as water soaked through your leather boots burning the bottoms of your feet, yet the rivers of acid running down your cheeks were what hurt the most, yet you just couldn't stop crying. You shoulders shuddered as you hiccups and gasped for air between sobs, only truly catching your breath as you knock on your best friends door.

You didn't have to wait long, the door swung open quickly a frightened ghost bur ushering you inside with worried gasps. "Oh y/n, what's wrong what's happened?" He fretted, taking your face in his hands, wiping the tears from your face despite the hiss of pain that escaped his clenched teeth afterward. "It's.. it's silly" you chuckle nervously, closing your umbrella and leaning it against the wall. "But I just... I just couldn't be alone tonight," you added your gaze not being able to meet his own. You were embarrassed, humiliated truly that even in death your nightmares plagued you.

Ghostbur patted his pockets for a moment in fanatic movements before pulling out a handful of blue mush. "Here, here darling have some blue, have some blue, calm yourself." he soothed handing the paste off too your hands before bringing you into a tight hug, no doubt smearing dye across the back of your shirt, though you didn't mind a bit. "Oh, 'bur thank you!" You sigh into the crook of his neck, squeezing your eyes tight as you felt him raise you from the ground, resting you on his chest as he floated towards his bedroom.

Shifting to better relax on top of the ghost you smile softly, blinking away your tears. "You bring me such comfort 'Bur, your the best friend a poltergeist can have" you admit with a shaky voice. He swallowed thickly his hands tightening on your shirt for just a moment, so quick you nearly thought you had imagined it.

"Of course, anything for you y/n." He hummed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you began to de-stress, relaxing your tense muscles into the phantom. "Why don't you stay here for a while, you've been coming to my house more and more, might be a save of time if you just stay with me" he offered with a kind smile, toying with the ends of your hair as he rockedyou slightly back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Like a baby you gave a tried yawn, some human qualities always remain. "That sounds like a good idea, I'd hate to impose on your home though..-" "You could never over stay in my home y/n, especially when you're being haunted like this."

You roll your eyes and let out a long groan, the memories of your horrid dream beginning to slip from your mind. "Ghostbur, what did we say about ghost puns." You scold, the smug look on the phantoms face had you bracing for another awful joke.

"That's they're ghastly-"

"Ghostbur I'm gonna put you in the ground a second time I swear on my blade."