#mortes trans

[mixbrasilcombr]

151 pessoas trans morreram no Brasil em 2022, segundo dossiê

@AntraBrasil

A Associação Nacional de Travestis e Transexuais (ANTRA) realizou um levantamento apontando que, em 2022, 131 pessoas trans foram assassinadas no Brasil, enquanto outras 20 tiraram a própria vida. Os dados constam no “Dossiê: Assassinatos e violências contra travestis e transexuais brasileiras”, entregues ao Ministério dos Direitos Humanos e da Cidadania (MDHC) no dia 26 de janeiro. Dessas 151…

[sorrelpaws]

i support womens wrongs

[sanddef]

How Sir Lancelot met with King Arthur and Sir Gawain, and how war was decided.

1522 words

“Which of you did it?”

The hall went silent. The drab colors of a dove make the thing blend into the background. Perfectly still, break the silhouette, it becomes just another piece of noise. Gawain, in plain clothes, without his armor or family colors, was pulling off a similar effect. Like a nervous bird, he twitched in place, cocked his head. Lancelot would have thought he was nervous, that is, if his eyes weren’t so deadly focused. 

Arthur, to his credit, cleared his throat, seeming to regret taking the man with him. Tensions were high enough, what with his former champion and wife sitting across the table. “Gawain, this isn’t for-”

“I want to know,” Gawain cut him off. The fire crackled, a log fell sending a gust of embers up into the air. The damned castle just wouldn’t get warm. Lancelot had done all he could and still, the cold seemed to leak through every stone.

Was Joyous Gard ever befitting of its name? Perhaps once. Perhaps Lancelot would be too young to remember. Had Arthur ever been here in its heyday? Did he sit at Lancelot’s father’s table, share a story and good food and drink? Did Gawain? Young, reckless, brimming with energy that time hadn’t quite tempered but reshaped into something versatile and sharp. A hook that Lancelot felt in his heart now, Gawain’s eyes hadn’t left him since he had arrived. 

Lionel’s hand was on his sword. For all Lancelot’s pleading, he would not be persuaded to maintain the illusion of a peaceful meeting. Bors had conceded to him, but said he would be looking for the first sign of trouble.

“At the very least, I will protect your queen.”

Yes. A queen of very little now, but Lancelot’s queen always and forever. Lancelot and his kin finally stepped into their long-neglected kingships, and the phrase King Lancelot seemed foreign on his tongue. At the very least Arthur looked uncomfortable saying it.

“I want to know which of you killed my brothers,” Gawain repeated, was never one to back down.

“Does that really matter?” Arthur’s voice rang hollow now. The years were starting to catch up to him.

“I think it matters.” Gawain looked at Guinevere, Bors, Lionel, Lancelot. “I think my brothers were about the only thing in the world that mattered and I want to know which of you killed them. I want to know whose sword, whose hands.”

“Mine.” Lancelot spoke before Lionel could stop him, “Gawain- I’m sorry. If I had recognized them I wouldn’t have.”

“If you had recognized them it wouldn’t have mattered.” Gawain hissed, “Brave Sir Lancelot, dear agent of chivalry, my little Gareth would never raise a sword against you. I know he didn’t.”

Lancelot didn’t look at Bors, but he felt his eyes on him. The whole event was a blur, Lancelot honestly couldn't remember a thing. Bors had told him that the boy had nearly cut his arm off and Bors defended himself. This was just before he had informed him that he was dead. 

Lancelot didn’t care if he believed him. Gareth was dead regardless.

Arthur seemed to be losing hope that this diplomatic mission would do anything to prevent outright war. He let Gawain speak.

“Agravain hated you, Lancelot, I suppose you took your revenge on him. Or was it one of your kin? Indeed, I imagine neither of them have hands as unclean as yours.” Gawain’s eyes landed on Guinevere, “And all this for you, my lady. I pray to God nobody ever loves me that much.”

Guinevere looked him dead on. Lancelot hoped it was just nerves making his heart beat that way.

“You’ll turn to war, prince of Orkney? Gawain, people are going to die.” She said.

He opened his mouth to respond. Arthur stepped in, seeming relieved to get a word in edgewise, “I fail to see any other option. You kill my kin, steal my wife, I would be a fool not to respond.”

“We have nothing to offer you in recompense.” Lionel spoke up, “Everything we had was yours. Everything we have now I would rather not give up, especially if you can’t keep your nephew on a leash.”

Gawain snarled, pushing his chair back from the table, “You’re happy to say that armed, aren’t you?”

Lionel shrugged and didn't waver. Despite years of bad blood between the two men, Lionel was one of the few people Gawain could never manage to faze. Lancelot respected him for it. 

“We’re in exile.” Bors said, “Surely that’s enough. We’ll never bother you again.”

“And l just go home and tell my baby brother that our family died for nothing?” Gawain was shaking, Lancelot had never seen him so unraveled. “Damn you all. I’ll see you on the field. This doesn’t end until one of us is dead, Lancelot.”

He stormed out of the room, knocking over a chair and slamming the door as he left. Lancelot knew he wouldn’t wait for anyone, would mount Gringolet and be halfway back to Camelot in a day. He would begin rallying the troops, his golden tongue wouldn’t fail him there, and by the time Arthur returned the decision would have been made.

What a farce. War was certain the moment Guinevere was put at the stake.

Arthur just sat, looking down at the table. He hadn’t flinched when Gawain stood. He was not even particularly bothered by the way the decision had been made; waves of fate just swept him this way and that. No amount of plotting could prevent providence. The waves had delivered Mordred to safety long ago.

“Arthur, are you alright?” Guinevere asked, her face softened.

“I was just thinking how long it’s been since outright war.” Arthur said, gesturing to the empty space Gawain left behind, “How last time I was only a child. Allied with your fathers, against his. Old Bors and Ban, I pray they don’t see us now.”

“Has it really come to this?” Lancelot asked. He wasn’t expecting an answer. Hector would be finished taking inventory in an hour, the letters would be sent out, alliances made, and resources collected. Lancelot would lead his men into battle and hopefully never meet Arthur’s eyes again.

“I pray I don’t see you out there.” Arthur said, thinking the same way. “I pray if we must die, it would be a stray arrow, a squire’s javelin. I’m too old and tired to fight a former friend.”

“I don’t want to fight Gawain.” Lancelot said, thinking of the sword he had left in his room. He knew Gawain was well aware of the inscription on the hilt. Based on how he was acting, he didn’t seem to care.

“I know you love him.”

“Of course I love him.” Lancelot said, “Most of us in this room love him.”

“It’s remarkable,” Bors said, leaning back, “That you should continue loving one who hates you so grievously.”

“No amount of hate could make me stop loving him.”

The streams of Logres rushed by, interrupted by the striking of hooves. A still lake’s surface rippled. Waves at Orkney’s shore beat on. Somewhere, Rome was falling. Morgause’s two remaining sons would be deputies, and war would be at France’s borders in a matter of days. For all Lancelot knew, Mordred was already preparing.

Arthur finally stood, like an old, brittle tree, he had been hollowed out, but would quietly wait for his final storm. He looked to Guinevere, she looked back at him.

“I won’t be seeing you again.” He said, “You were a good queen.”

“But not a good wife. You were a good friend.” She replied.

Arthur smiled drily. “Lancelot, you would do well to take her advice. She knows the field well. I will miss having her as counsel.”

Once upon a time, Guinevere had been raised to be a king too. It was easy to forget until her expertise was needed.

“I have preparations to make. I’ll need to fill your seats at the table.” Arthur thought out loud, before wincing. The irony of having to take his pick from the Queen’s Knights wasn’t lost on him.

He left without another word. Seems the time for courtly pleasantries is finally over.

Bors touched Lancelot’s shoulder until he looked at him, “Do you think he hates us?”

Lionel snorted, “He has every reason to.”

“He just seemed- well he’s an odd sort.”

“It doesn’t really matter.”

“He does.” Guinevere broke in. “He’s never been the type to show it.”

“Not like Gawain.” Lionel said, “He’s going to give us trouble, that witch’s son.”

“He’s not going to poison us.” Lancelot said, “He would want to fight me.”

Bors frowned, “Even though he knows-”

“It doesn’t matter to him whether he lives or dies.” Lionel’s eyes widened in realization, “Dear lord.”

Leagues away, Gawain was riding. The scar at the back of his neck ached. It might be time to retire the sword and return to his weapon of choice; take the green axe off the mantle. To hell with what it symbolized, Gawain wanted something heavy. Besides, shame and pride mean nothing to a dead man. 

[mortal-kingss]

expression study i did on martin that turned into a full doodle page for him . i need to doodle autistic hcs soon cuz i’ll be damned if he’s neurotypical

[socialistexan]

The Doctor knows you should leave electronic music to trans women and Mort Garson only.

[jeffrrandell]

Insecure Bob gets a little Mort Support

[purecommemasolitude]

(for context i haven't watched dracula, l'amour plus fort que la mort yet but)

sometimes i recollect about how it took me AGES to figure out that en transe... ylvanie the "en transe... ylvanie/un transe se maquille" and also the title were about a trance ("in trance... ylvania/a trance is forming" essentially) and it wasn't a song saying that all vampires are transgender

[catssleeponme]

When you're finished rereading Dracula again, mine humble readers, this bitch is godsdamned tits-out brilliant trash [cue skeletor running away dot jay peg]

[okeutocalma]

Informação sobre o capítulo.

Imagine Kirishima, leitor masculino.

╰►Personagem : Kirishima.

╰►Anime/Mangá : Boku no hero.

╰►Pedido de:

╰►Tema : Cute,com tristeza.

Gatilho : Disforia, Transfobia, sangue e etc...

Quanto mais eu pensava, mais piorava, eu achava que existia um limite para "pensar demais", mas agora lá estava eu agachado no chão do box, tentando pensar em um jeito de sair daquela posição. Aquele era a única forma que eu tinha arranjado para não ver meus intrusos.

Eu tentava não fazer nenhum barulho, mas soltava um grunhido toda vez que lembrava daquele maldito momento, por mais que eu soubesse que não era verdade, aquilo ainda me afetava. Eu estava ciente de que não poderia demorar muito lá, afinal iriam desconfiar de que eu estava a chorar por conta de algo tão besta.

Olhei para cima e puxei o ar o máximo que pudia, logo em seguida levantei cambaleando um pouco por conta da água nos meus olhos. Apenas desliguei o chuveiro e me sequei com uma toalha branca comum que eu havia encontrado, me esforçando ao máximo para não se próprio olhar no enorme espelho que constava no banheiro, se cogitasse olhar para o meu corpo novamente com certeza eu iria ter outra crise.

Assim que terminei de vestir minhas roupas, uma blusa estampada 5 vezes maior que eu e um short preto qualquer que estava no meu alcance, me joguei na cama de tanto cansaço. Todos deveriam estar procupados comigo, não aparecia na sala de aula a semanas, talvez isso tenha me abalado mais que o normal, talvez.

Ouvi passos em direção ao dormitório, tive certeza que seria kirishima, eu reconhecia os passos dele, ele sempre andava arrastando os pés, parecia um velho de 80 anos andando.

O ouvi bater na porta, obviamente não iria abrir, estava disposto a esperar ele cansar de esperar e ir embora.

- Hello, Olá, Boa noite? [Nome]? Posso entrar? - Era de se perceber o tom de procupado na voz dele, eu não queria o fazer esperar lá, mas eu precisava de mais tempo sozinho, e também, não queria que ele me visse daquela maneira, todo descabelado e olhos inchados.

- [Nome]??? Tem certeza que está ai??- Ele estava a começar a se desesperar, e eu apenas encolhi a minha cabeça e comecei a choramingar aos poucos, não queria que ele ouvisse.

Se passou 2 minutos desde que Kiri bateu na porta, eu esperava que ele estivesse ido embora, até o ouvir novamente.

-[Nome]? Eu sei que você está ai, me deixe entrar, eu estou sozinho aqui fora, eu te prometo. - Merda, eu odiava promessas, sempre odiei, você se prende a elas e se descumprir, ainda tem o remorso, talvez eu devesse abrir a porta, se é algo tão sério assim.

Com remorso, eu levantei da minha cama e fui em direção a porta, assim que cheguei perto de abri-la, exitei.

-Está mesmo sozinho ai? - Tentei fingir naturalidade na voz o máximo possível, sem sucesso.

- [Nome] ! Finalmente ! Ah sim, estou sozinho aqui fora. - Era perceptível o tom de alívio dele ao ouvir minha voz.

Abri a porta e o permiti me abraçar, ele estava... chorando? Por quê?

-[Nome]... Você não faz ideia do quanto eu estava precupado contigo.

Eu senti as lágrimas dele pingando em minha blusa, naquele momento eu me senti o pior mostro do mundo, então apenas envolvi meus braços no garoto e afundei meu rosto na curva de seu pescoço.

Me separei de seu abraço e fechei a porta, e o vi analisando o meu quarto, conferindo se não havia algo de errado.

-E então, pode me contar o que está acontecendo? -

Permaneci em silêncio, sem manter contato visual.

- [Nome]? Ah qual é, vamo lá, eu sei que você é mais forte que isso. -

-Não, não sou, se eu fosse, eu não teria me afetado por algo que o MINETA fez. - Eu percebi a raiva crescendo nos olhos do garoto.

- [Nome]?? O que o mineta fez a você.- Assim que terminou de falar, se levantou da cama em uma tentativa de ficar mais próximo de mim.

- Ah kirishima, esquece, deixa pra lá. - Me dirigi a cama, desviando de Kiri que estava quase que colado em mim.

-Você sabe muito bem que eu não vou esquecer, me fala o que diabos o mineta fez ou disse dessa vez? -

Continuei em silêncio igual mais cedo, pelo jeito, ele também.

- Já que é assim, não posso te ajudar, m desculpe. - Ele começou a caminhar em direção a porta. E aqui eu percebi, que as pessoas se afastavam de mim por conta da minha negligência a ajudas, infelizmente era uma característica autoral minha.

- Kiri, espera. - Tirei meu rosto do travesseiro e olhei para o avermelhado.

Eu o vi olhar para trás, com os olhos marejados de água.

- O mineta ele... ele me assediou e disse inúmeras coisas transfobicas. - Assim que terminei, afundei o rosto no travesseiro novamente, com vergonha.

Eu ouvi passos chegando até mim e um peso no canto da cama.

-Olhe, eu nunca consolei alguém, e não sou nenhum pouco bom nisso, mas se eu estivesse na sua situação, eu ignoraria totalmente o que ele falou ou fez. Mesmo sabendo que não é tão fácil simplesmente ignorar isso tudo, mas talvez não se importar com isso deve resolver algo. De qualquer forma, você é um menino sim, e o mineta que se ferre para lá, quem se importa com ele? - Ele falava rápido e gesticulando bastante, não sabia se estava piorando ou melhorando as coisas.

Levantei da cama e me arrastei até onde ele estava, e o abracei, eu nunca fui fã de abraços, mas naquele momento a única coisa que eu queria era um.

-Você tá ocupado hoje kiri?-

- Não, só de noite que eu tenho treino.-

-Pode ficar aqui comigo pelo resto do dia?-

- Claro...-

• ━━━━━━❪❆❫━━━━━━ •

Mineta estava caído no chão desmaiado,machucado e sujo com o próprio sangue.

- EU PASSO PANO, MATA ELE KIRI! - Mina Ashido gritava e pulava , apoiando seu amigo.

Kirishima com sua quirk ativada dava soco após soco em Mineta, e não ia parar tão cedo.

Katsuki olhava kirishima, estava orgulhoso pelo seu amigo e feliz pois se Kirishima não matasse Mineta,ele mataria.

Aizawa apareceu,prendendo kirishima com sua arma, mas o ruivo a todo momento tentava se soltar e avançava em direção ao adolescente desmaiado.

- O MINETA SÓ SAÍ DE PERTO DE MIM DENTRO DO CAIXÃO! -

Bakugou sorriu e uma alta explosão foi escutada, se Mineta não estava morto,agora estaria... E ninguém de fora saberia, afinal a U.A não ia querer que sua reputação fosse manchada.

Espero que tenha gostado,desculpa pelos erros! Não consegui revisar.

[elisaenglish]

Tu te souviens?

[messengerhermes]

When you're a horrid little frog man who interrupts your boyfriend and seminary school to show of your new jeaps (jean chaps)

[gravemere]

yesterday was london trans pride. today is my first day on t

[esqrever]

Reino Unido: Dupla de adolescentes condenada pela morte "excecionalmente brutal" de Brianna Ghey com motivações transfóbicas

Reino Unido: Dupla de adolescentes condenada pela morte "excecionalmente brutal" de Brianna Ghey com motivações transfóbicas

A dupla adolescente que assassinou Brianna Ghey foi condenada por um assassinato “excecionalmente brutal”. A juíza reconheceu que a parte da motivação foi a identidade trans da vítima. Scarlett Jenkinson e Eddie Ratcliffe, de 16 anos cada, receberam condenações de penas mínimas de 22 e 20 anos, respetivamente. “Participaram num homicídio brutal e planeado, de natureza sádica, que teve como…

[katabay]

PERCEVAL THE UNHAPPY, THE MISERABLE, THE UNFORTUNATE, THE FISHER KING!

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

ALRIGHT alright. so previously I did an illustration that explained the premise of all this, that it's inspired by the narrative choices that Bresson made in his film Lancelot du Lac etc

to dive in more into it (because this is something like derivative fiction. I'm putting concepts into a blender and seeing what comes out of it): the setting is haunted by the previously existing narratives that started cannibalizing each other until it regurgitates itself into the more well known narrative beats, and something else about the invasive rot of christianity and empire mythmaking into settings. it's an intertextual haunting, if you will! and this scene takes place during the grail quest narrative, but the temptation of Perceval plays out differently.

in both Chretien (and Wolfram's) Perceval narratives, what 'wakes' Perceval up (in more ways than one. desire and self actualization in one go!) is seeing knights, something his mother tried hard to keep him from. so instead of the temptation of lust & etc in the Morte narrative taking the form of a lady, it takes the form of a knight. the temptation to renounce one's faith to serve something else remains.

so Perceval still stabs himself, but instead of continuing on the grail quest in the shadow of Galahad, he becomes the narrative's Fisher King because his earlier state of being as a the grail quest hero is creeping back into his marrow. it was waiting for an opening, and stabbing yourself in the thigh is one hell of a parallel!!!

that wound isn't going to heal buddy, and the state of the setting will now be reflected on your body. sure hope that Arthur hasn't like. corrupted the justice of the land or anything. that sure would suck for your overall health.

all the red in this sequence is because in de Troyes' Perceval, Perceval takes the armor of the Red Knight and becomes known as the Knight in Red.

and now for the citations, which I will try to order in a way that makes sense!

Seeing Knights For The First Time

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

The Temptation of Perceval

Le Morte Darthur, Mallory (modernized by Baines)

The Fisher King, and Perceval The Unfortunate

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

On Perceval and Gender, etc.

Clothes Make The Man: Parzival Dressed and Undressed, Michael D. Amey

On Wounds

Wounded Masculinity: Injury and Gender in Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte Darthur, Kenneth Hodges

The Red Knight

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

On Arthur and the Corruption of Justice

The Failure of Justice, the Failure of Arthur, L.K. Bedwell

[simmyfrobby]

The Pugilist

Joe Nelson, Fan films unreal view of Vancouvers Kyle Burroughs hammering Wilds Brandon Duhaime | Ariel Glucklich, Sacred Pain: Hurting the Body for the Sake of the Soul | Canucks Army, Analyzing what the Canucks might like about Wild forward Brandon Duhaime | Mikki Tuohy, NHL Trade Rumours: Will the MN Wild Trade Brandon Duhaime? | René Girard, Violence and the Sacred | Kayla Hynnek, Brandon Duhaime Brings It Every Night For The Wild | Max Bultman and Dan Robson, The mental toll of hockey fighting goes beyond getting ‘punched in the face’ | Joel Auerbach via Getty Images | Anne Sexton | Kayla Hynnek | 1 Corinthians 4:9 | Bultman and Robson | Catherine of Siena, The Prayers of Catherine of Siena (trans. Noffke) | Tyson Cole, Analyzing what the Canucks might like about Wild forward Brandon Duhaime | Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew (c. 1599-1600) | Bultman and Robson | Joe Smith, ‘Vintage Flower’: Behind the scenes of Marc-Andre Fleury’s emotional night in Wild’s win | George Bataille, Guilty (trans. Bruce Boone) | Toni Calasanti, Feminist Gerontology and Old Men | Becoming Wild: Brandon Duhaime via YouTube | Cole | Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians | Cole | Vitor Munhoz, NHLI via Getty Images | Elly McCausland, 'Mervayle what hit mente': Interpreting Pained Bodies in Malory's "Morte D’Arthur" | Capfriendly: Brandon Duhaime Injury Updates | Calasanti | McCausland| Kenneth Hodges, Wounded Masculinity: Injury and Gender in Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte DArthur | Becoming Wild: Brandon Duhaime | Dieric Bouts, Christ Crowned With Thorns | David Berding via Getty Images | Bataille | Brandon Duhaime vs Will Borgen Feb 24, 2024 | Michael Russo and Joe Smith, Brandon Duhaime traded by the Wild: Why they moved him, and what he adds to the Avalanche | The Winter House (2022) dir. Keith Boynton | Joe Smith, Wild’s special teams deliver, Fleury exits early on ‘Fight Night’: Key takeaways vs. Panthers | Vibeke Olson, Penetrating the Void: Picturing the wound in Christ’s side as a performative space | Joe Smith, What Brandon Duhaime’s deal means for Wild salary-cap situation and Filip Gustavsson talks | Girard | Ocean Vuong, Devotion | Caravaggio, Sacrifice of Isaac (1598) | Bultman and Robson | Bultman and Robson | Bultman and Robson | Amelia Arenas, Sex, Violence and Faith: The Art of Caravaggio | Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov | Girard | Michael Russo and Joe Smith, Wild GM Bill Guerin working phones ahead of trade deadline, no regrets over training-camp extensions | Concannon, “Not for an Olive Wreath, but Our Lives”: Gladiators, Athletes, and Early Christian Bodies | Matt Blewett - USA Sports | Michael Russo and Joe Smith, Wild trade tiers: Who is on the block? Who could be dangled? Who is untouchable? | Thornton Wilder, Our Town

[thatdeadaquarius]

OKAY BUT I HAVE MORE IDEA FOR BLUNT READER CUZ I LOVE THAT AU SO MUCHANDMDJFKSLDKF

So you know how french people's insult are always outta pocket (from a person who's first language is french I can tell you that no other language compares in insult -apart for African languages)

Like,, some "bad" insult here would be : bitch, fuck off, whore,..

Which we can all agree is boring...

BUT THEN IN FRENCH!!!

We be getting creative with it

Eg.

"mange tes mort" wich translates to "eat your dead (relatives)"

"vas te fair enculer" means "go get yourself pegged in the ass"

(yes, we have a specific word for being fucked in the ass 💀)

AND THOSE WOULD BE THE COMMON ONES AS WELL

English could never compare ✨

BUT ANYWAYS

how would the characters react if reader was from france/ belgium/ canada(or any other french speaking country) and started cursing people out like they eould do in their home countrie !?!?

The eay their face would drop

We would make a couple of people cry

AND GOD(us haha) FORBID A KID OVER-HEAR US AND STARTS REPEATING US

Trying to un-teach them would be hell *cries*

Your thoughts?

Love yaaaa~

ABSOLUTE TOP TIER ORAH MY BELOVED!!

Nobody has any idea how much I HATE ENGLISH both for its rules/pronounciation BS/etc. But also, most importantly, THERES LIKE NO GOOD CUSS WORDS- OR LIKE CUSS PHRASES??

I HAD TO PUT THIS GIF BC THAT WAS LITERALLY ME WHEN I HAD THE REALIZATION TO LOOK UP OTHER LANGUAGE CUSS WORDS AND I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY BY HOW GOOD THEY WERE- HOW CREATIVE- 😫😭🥲 ENGLISH WHY R U SO SHITY IN EVERY POSSIBLE LANGUAGE SITUATION-

like idk we got "eat shit and die / fuck off / go fuck yourself" ???? Like- thats pathetic 😟.

I love hearing someone just cuss smbody out their native language/non-english, it’s so badass and cool to see

Anyway u already know i love non-native english speakers from the bottom of my heart✨️

GOD I FUCKING LOVE BLUNT LANGUAGE AU ITS LIKE ONE OF TOP FAV AS U CAN PROBABLY GUESS I COULD WRITE A LITERAL FANFIC ENTIRELY OFF THIS SIMPLE PREMISE 💖💓💗💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

omg so i HAVE SPECIFICALLY HEARD ABT FRENCH BEING RLLY CREATIVEEE

and i researched french cusswords/phrases,,,

😭 BRO IM CRYING

“bête comme ses pieds!” IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR-

(trans: you’re as stupid AS YOUR FEEEEEETT)

idk what’s funnier, you translating urself in real time and saying all these phrases to ppl,

OR just scaring the ever-loving shit out of every teyvat citizen within a mile radius bc oh wow- you look pissed, so yeah somebody’s about to lose all their self-esteem for the rest of their life bc ur insults are known to be extra cutting bc ur so blunt-

OH CREATOR ABOVE (…oh creator, present??)- you changed to your holy language FOR THIS???

everybody just giving the npc the most bombastic side-eye for pushing you to do this,

or even just you stubbing ur toe/ate food when it was too hot

or my favorite, getting onto ppl like Wanderer when they do smth silly lmao

STOP I HAD A FOUL THOUGHT OF GETTING ONTO Ei AND WANDERER (like ei for not keeping him/at least giving him to someone else to raise, then all the shit he did as Scaramouche lol)

AND THIS CUSSWORD COMES OUT UNDER UR BREATH OR SMTH- DOES THIS FIT BC THIS KILLS ME:

“Putain de salope…” (whore of whore, I LIED IT MEANS FUCKING BITCH LMAO😭)

JUST GETTING THE MOM AND THE SON IN ONE FULL BREATH CRYINGGGG

STOPPP wanderer using it against other ppl ever since u used it lol

oh no stop dont bring the kids into thisss 😭😭

Klee would deffo be the first one to pick up ur words and use them, omg she just uses them as catchphrases like when throwing her bombs 💀

“Mange tes mort!” JUST WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AS SHE THROWS HER HUGE SKILL BOMB INTO A FISH POND

Venti would definitely make sure the winds “pass along phrases of the sacred All-God language!”

which just means anyone who UNDERSTANDS YOU JUST GETS GENTLY CREATIVELY CUSSED OUT BY THE WIND IM SOBBINGGG

☆

i hope u guys are having a great summer! its basically too hot to go outside where I am, not unless ur going straight into the water or smth

which hey, ill be doing that this weekend, floating down the river about an hour away from my house with friends! :]

which,,, if anyone sees this, U GOTTA HELP ME THINK OF A 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE THING TO DO IDK WHAT TO DO BUT I WANNA CELEBRATE IT BC I NEVER THOUGHT THATD HAPPEN!! lmk what u think in the comments if u read this!

☆

Safe Travels 0rah,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi