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nyx-is-missing · 3 months

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SUNSET PART 1

Or early summer!

Clarisse La Rue x Cassandra De Young (oc! Apollo's kid)

Summary: When Cassandra gets involved in a scandal early in the day, she goes to camp early.

Warnings: men....thats all i could think of actualy.

First read this!

Part 2 is here!

Cassandra De Young

Im fucked.

That's it, that's all i can say.

I knew it as soon as my hand reached his face and stinged, as soon as i heard a camera's flash, and as soon as i stepped into my mom's apartment.

Let's just rewind a bit, okay?

My family own a big business, that you already know by now, the thing is, when they reeaally want to do business with someone they go extreme, the most common technique is to get on the good side of everyone in the family, everyone.

They research, pretend to have things in common, to like the same things, to have the same views of life, and to make it more believable they always go for the person who is closest in age with them.

Usually i dont get involved in this situations because im younger than everyone else, the only teen in the family.

The thing is, this family also had someone around my age.

A 18 year old guy.....eighteen.

Let me tell you, i really wasn't going for trouble today, i tought he may be a normal guy, just with a little money, someone i could have a conversation with, drink some coffe, laugh and go back home and think "hey, not so bad"

He.was.not.

All he could talk about is how much money his family had, where he went for winter break, his pure blood horse, that only ate (attention to this one) IMPORTED GRASS.

Overall a huge dick.

But that i could handle, i've met people like this, i could handle a shitty talk for some hours, what i could not handle was having to go through all this with his hand on my knee bellow the table.

And here i was, spending one of my last days of spring being tortured by the fates.

"You're not paying much attention to the conversation are you?" He said, and gods that accent was almost making me want to jump out of a cliff, or push him out of a cliff, both would work.

"Oh sorry i was-"

"No need to apologize, people get bored i know" Not that he did something criminal by not letting me finish my sentence but, my gods every action coming from him its making me want to die right now "Its okay, i could find some way to make you focus"

Okay, im done

"Im gonna need you to stop saying odd shit" I looked him dead in the eye with a bothered look, and by the surprised look he gave me back i was 100% sure nobody ever told him to shut up when he was saying nonsense.

"C'mon, dont be like that-" he said trying to get his hand a little but upwards, and i only realized i slapped him when i felt my hand burning.

"Oh my gods im sorry i-" And then i heard the camera flashes.

Im going to need you to imagine the scene, my hand was still up, his hand was till on his cheek, and he had a scared look in his face, as did most of the people at the fancy coffe shop.

Do i smile now? Strike a pose? This one is definetly getting front pages at every place.

I chose the safest choice, got out of that straight to my house.

No..i did not payed the bill.

The whole way home i was trying really hard to think of something to say that was not going to make my family mad, especially my grandfather, but considering whe has always mad with something, that felt like a impossible mission.

First thing i saw when i opened the door of the penthouse was my mom, standing in front of the television, and sure enough, my face was on it.

She turned to me, but before she could even say something i started to explain myself.

"Its not what it looks like mom, i swear, i didn't do it on pourpose, let me explain please-" i couldnt actually read the look on her face, but she didnt say anything, so i took that as a go ahead.

When i explained her what happened her face relaxed a bit, but not completely, and she had a look that said your grandpa is getting in my nerves because of this.

"I'll talk to your grandfather about this, but you need to know that the way you acted wasn't appropriate, there is cameras all around and you need to be careful...lets just thank the gods you didnt pulled out a dagger right?" She walked closer to me, and i knew she was trying to comfort me, its a pitty actually, i knew she didnt wanted kids when she had me, i knew how grandpa treated her when he found out, to me, it was enough that she at least tried to love me enough. "You already have your things packed to camp right? I know you have some more days of school but ill call them and tell them you are sick, its best for you to leave earlier this year, then your grandfather wont talk your ears out...you okay with that?"

"Yes mama, ill just finish packing some small things...do i leave today?" I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard a silent im sorry.

"Yes, but dont be like that, think that you at least wont have to see the news talking about you..youll just be there, with your siblings, eating strawberies and..whatever else demigods do daily, right?"

Like i said, it is enough to me that she tries, even when she isnt great all the time, i know people who dont even have this.

I nodded and went to my room, making sure not to accidentally hit a new sculpture, placed in the corridor.

I didnt wait for her when i finished packing.

I knew she wouldnt be the one to take me there, she never is, she has things to do with the family business, its what ive always heard.

So when i got to the underground garage with my bags i automatically searched for one of the family drivers, sure enough, he was there.

He was a nice guy, but quiet, i knew that he probably had orders not to talk to the family members unless spoken to, grandpa did this with all of them, i also knew he never actually knows where hes been taking me, he takes me there almos every year, but always stops at the road in front of the forest, maybe this sad look he has on his face its because he thinks he is taking me to one of those crazy wilderness therapies as a punishment.

Granpa would absolutely do that if he hadnt had to live with a great public appearence.

"Miss? We are here" He looked at me in the rearview mirror, i only realized i had doze of when my eyes met his and i blinked. "Hold on tight, im going to help you with your luggage okay?"

"Oh..thank you mr bell" He opened the trunk, and then the back door for me, extending his hand to help me get out of the car "thank you, again"

"Sure miss, just let me take your bags out and we are all set okay?-"

Another car dor noise made us both look to the right, to find Clarisse La rue, closing a taxi door, with just one big suitcase in hand.

Now, my story with Clarisse is kind of complicated, i've met her when he were, eight i guess, her family bought some shares in the family business and we saw each other very regulaly, and ever since then everything everyone told me about her is that she is a troublesome girl, that i should stay far.

But she was the one who realized i was a demigodess, and took me straight to camp when a monster found me, and she was the one who, many times when we were little, comforted me when my family made me cry.

It seems like she forgot all of that because she never even looks at me.

If you ask her, she has never even met me at all actually.

"Clarisse, you're early"

"Cassandra, you too-"

"Cass actually, i prefer cass" i corrected her, to wich she just rolled her eyes and muffled a whatever. "Thats all you are taking? One suitcase?"

"And you are taking all that? How do you plan on walking the whole way with all that? Im assuming he wont go with you" she said looking at mr bell, and its true, he could not walk the whole way with me, and i could not walk with all that alone...fuck

"....you could help m-"

"No, dont even think about it"

"C'mon Clarisse!" She didnt even answered me this time actually. "Arent you a Ares-" i looked at the driver taking the suitcases out. "A ares...type of kid? You will pass on the oportunity to demonstrate your muscles or whatever?"

She started to walk away with a bored look, did i already said fuck?

"C'mon ill do whatever! I- i dont know.. 20 dracmas!, no?, ill help you with the cleaning duty you'll eventually have when you fuck it up? I..ill do that AND ill cure you anytime you want, everyday, no matter the time!"

She stopped walking.

Yes! I knew it, one of the many problems clarisse had its that she likes to go out at night to train alone, and when she gets hurt she cant ask anyone to help her, because she would get caught

"Give me those suitcases already and shut up-" she was interrupted by a very happy me hugging her.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouclarisse!"

I felt her hands on my arms and realized she was going to push me away, so i took a step back

"Geez Clarisse, you could've just told me to back off, dont be like that... just take these and ill take those"

I said pointing to the suitcases, and saying goodbye to mr bell.

Can i already welcome summer and his crazy energy? No? Okay.

#fanfic #lesbian #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader

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chaotic-orphan · 4 months

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INTOXICATING FEAR — PART IX

Read part one here

Continued from here

TW: overall content warning, very uncomfortable, forced self-harm, self-harm, mentions of self-harm, explicit self harm, gory self harm, blood, cuts, knives, cutting, explicit detail of blood/wounds, gross depictions of blood, torture, threats of violence, hopelessness, sadistic whumper

This one is even a bit squidgy for me at parts so take care of the warnings and of yourselves! Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

“Wakey wakey, Hero,” Villain sang. That was their only warning before a slap echoed around the room and Hero’s eyes shot open in shock. Villain was crouching in front of Hero, red lips tilted up into a half smile as Hero jerked forward. They didn’t get very far though.

Hero’s arms were kept restrained awkwardly behind them, bound tightly wrist to wrist. Hero frowned at Villain in question.

“Where’s Superhero?” Hero asked, voice erring on cautious. If Villain had managed to subdue or god forbid kidnap Superhero and use them as their own little puppet toy play thing then there really was no hope for either of them.

“Oh don’t worry your pretty little head about Superhero, Hero. They had to nip out on an errand which gives us some much needed alone time,” Villain said, their voice too high and pleased with themselves as they spoke, but their eyes… Hero swallowed the lump in their throat at the pain they promised. “Ah, there you are. There’s my scared, timid little Hero. You forgot yourself before, it’s okay. You can admit it, it’s only the two of us here after all.”

“I didn’t forget myself,” Hero snarled, bearing their teeth at Villain and jerking forward in the chair as far as they were able to. “I am done playing by the rules of your sick twisted games.”

Villain tilted their head to the side, dark eyes drinking in Hero’s threat. “Did seeing Superhero make you brave, Hero?”

“They’re going to see right through you,” Hero sneered, “and when they do I’ll be there. Watching as they beat the—”

Villain jumped at Hero, one hand going to their throat while the other pressed a knife against Hero’s cheek. Villain wrenched Hero’s head up so they were staring directly into Villain’s eyes with that cute little defiant look. Villain revelled at how still Hero went once Villain introduced the knife to their face.

“You won’t be able to watch if I pluck out those pretty little eyes, Hero, would you?” Villain mused. Hero struggled to free their head from Villain’s grip but Villain tightened their hold and pressed the knife in deeper until Hero stopped. “Ah, ah, ah, Hero. Play nice or my hand might just slip.”

“Take my eyes!” Hero spat, their voice taking on a feral growl to it, as they struggled furiously at their restraints. “Take whatever the fuck you want because you will fuck up sooner or later and it’s only a matter of time until Superhero finds out who you really are! So go ahead!”

Hero craned their neck up further, pressing into the knife that Villain held. Daring.

Bold.

Villain pulled away, dropping all contact from Hero. Hero let out a scoff as they dropped their head and rolled their shoulders.

“Yeah, thought so.”

“You know, Hero,” Villain said with a sigh, pressing the tip of the knife against their index finger and twirling it thoughtfully. They turned their back to Hero, walking towards the front door.

“You’re right. I didn’t really think the whole sickness thing through, if Superhero comes back and you’re still as feverish as you were, well,” Villain said inclining their head, with a wan smile: “they’d probably recommend a hospital or a healer… both of which I have no need of.”

Hero remained silent, they just glared at Villain as they continued.

“So, while you were out of it I was trying to think of a way to get Superhero off our backs and I had a little lightbulb moment, Hero,” Villain said, and looked over their shoulder at Hero with a grin, “you wanna know what it was?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.”

“You’re so un-fun, but I will,” said Villain, turning to face Hero now. “Sometimes stress manifests itself as illness, Hero.”

“Well I am sick of you, so that makes sense,” Hero grumbled and Villain laughed.

“And sometimes, it manifests as mental illness.”

Hero’s brows furrowed in question. Villain smiled. “Don’t you want to have a guess at what I mean by that?”

“Not particularly.”

Villain shrugged. “Good. So we can begin then.”

Hero tensed in the chair as Villain walked purposefully towards them, and then around the chair out of sight. Hero turned their head, but Villain pushed it back so Hero was forced to stare forward.

“Hey! Hey! What’re you—”

“Oh, not so brave now are we?” Villain asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

When the cool metal pressed against Hero’s wrist they jerked forward, trying to get away but Villain said: “stay still,” and the sludge like command melted Hero’s brain until they were forced to remain completely still.

The metal pressed against Hero’s wrist again and to Hero’s surprise, Villain cut them free of the ropes or whatever was tying them to the chair. They still couldn’t move but for some reason being free didn’t exactly make Hero’s heart sing with joy. Something like dread settled at the bottom of their gut instead as Villain walked around the chair again.

“Now, Hero, illness… sickness, physical sickness can be treated by a healer or a doctor but mental illness? Especially from stress, perhaps… oh I don’t know, work related stress of being a Hero, for example. That is treated by time away from the stressors.”

Villain paused just to let their words properly sink into Hero brain. Villain didn’t speak again until Hero’s wide eyes met Villain’s with a panicked kind of hatred.

“No,” Hero said. “No! You can’t—”

“Oh, yes, Hero. Yes I can.”

“Superhero would never… they wouldn’t—“” Hero blubbered before furious eyes met Villain’s dark ones. “They would check on me everyday—”

“Would they? A good soul like Superhero? Or would the guilt of having maybe pushed you too hard, or not seen the signs earlier prevent them from coming regularly?”

“Wait, Villain. You can’t do this!”

“Oh I can,” Villain chuckled.

Hero’s mouth screwed up desperately, their breathing coming out a bit faster than necessary. “But— but, I won’t be as fun if you can’t fuck with me when I’m at the Hero tower, and you won’t learn about anything or be able to take down the Heroes from within, or— or—”

“Oh relax,” Villain said with a wave of their hand. “This isn’t going to be permanent, Hero. Just a long enough break away from the stressful environment of being a Hero. Some good old fashioned R&R with yours truly will set you right.”

Villain bit back a grin when they saw tears gather behind Hero’s eyes as they struggled to try and fight Villain’s compulsion.

“Please, Villain. Please! Anything but that, please. I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want. Please, I’ll stop fighting you. Please just don’t— don’t—” Hero cried, cutting themselves off with a heartfelt sob, sniffing as the tears started falling down their cheeks.

Villain moved closer then, cooing at Hero’s pathetic display of desperation. Villain pressed a cold hand against Hero’s cheek, and brushed the tear streaks away with the coarse pad of their thumb. A sympathetic smile on their stupidly too-red lips.

“It’s okay, Hero. Everything will be fine. Come on, walk with me to the bathroom. The blood will be easier to clean off there.”

To Hero’s horror their body obeyed Villain’s command. Every neuron in Hero’s brain was firing at them to stop, to not go with Villain, to fight, to regain control over their own body but it was all in vain.

Hero stood from the chair and followed Villain across their living room into their bathroom. Villain turned on the light, and turned to grin at Hero, holding out a hand.

“What?!” Hero barked, wiping the angry tears from their eyes.

“Well you have two choices Hero, you either; step into the bath or hold your arms over it,” Villain said, leaning their lower back against the sink and crossing their long legs. “The choice is yours, it doesn’t really affect me.”

“Is it?” Hero asked, coming to stand in front of Villain, their heart thundering against their ears. If they could stall for time and wait for Superhero to come back, they could catch Villain in the act. They’d know that Hero was suffering at the hands of a fucking tyrant.

The corner of Villain’s lips quipped up. “Knock yourself out, Hero. Enjoy the freedom.”

“Except it’s not freedom cause either way you’re going to make me do one of them, aren’t you?”

“Well obviously,” Villain blinked, then smiled wide, “but I can wait if you want. We can wait until your precious Superhero comes back and instead of hurting yourself you can hurt them too. Would you like that, Hero?”

Hero swallowed, eyes narrowing into the points of a sharp dagger. “You said you wouldn’t read my mind anymore. Takes the fun out of it, have you changed your tune?”

Villain rolled their eyes and stood to their full height, stepping forward and knocking Hero back a step with their shoulder. Hero’s eyebrows rose in surprise as they stumbled back, forgetting that Villain was taller than them.

“Honestly Hero, I try,” Villain said with another step. Hero matched it with one backwards, still glaring up at them. “But sometimes it’s so rare that you think anything in that little noodle of yours that the thoughts are too loud for me to ignore.”

Villain pressed a finger into Hero’s forehead and tipped them back another step before Hero batted their hand away.

“Real funny, Villain. Hah-hah!”

“I try,” Villain said, flashing a charming smile. “But you’re right. I have decided. In the bath is better than out.”

Without pausing Villain pressed their palm flat on Hero’s chest, fingers spread and shoved Hero backwards. Hero hadn’t realised how close they were to the bath and with the hard push Hero was forced back, their thigh hitting the edge and they reached out to steady themselves but fell off balance. Villain getting further away as Hero fell, their head smacking off the tiles as they landed awkwardly in the tub.

“Motherfucker!” Hero cried, rubbing their head with a scowl as it pounded from the whack.

Villain shrugged leaning back against the sink again, arms folded across their chest. “I did give you the choice to get in the bath of your own accord. This one’s on you.”

“Maybe I want to lean over it,” Hero grumbled, fumbling to right themselves. When they settled Hero glared up at Villain from the tub. “Well we don’t have all day. Force me to do whatever you want, I don’t care anymore.”

“Hero,” Villain chided. “Don’t have that attitude, come on. Make it fun for me. Struggle a bit.”

“What’s the point? You’ll just use your powers on me and get what you want eventually. Let’s just cut through the bullshit.”

Villain shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Villain leaned off the sink and handed Hero the knife in their hand. “Hero, I want you to take the knife and roll up your sleeves and cut your wrists.”

Hero felt the blood drain from their face.

“What?” Hero whispered as their hand reached for the knife against their own wants. “Wait! Villain, you can’t want to kill me I thought—”

“Oh hush, Hero. Don’t be dramatic. Make the cuts horizontal. Not deep enough to bleed out or need stitches but enough to leave scars.”

Hero was rolling up their sleeves as Villain spoke. “Villain, wait please. Please! Wait! Stop! Why can’t you do this to me? Cut me? Make them believable? Please?! Villain please I don’t want to do this.”

Villain crouched so they were eye level with Hero, looking into Hero’s too bright eyes that were already tearing up at the mere thought of Villain’s command.

“What makes you think I care about what you want, Hero?”

Hero let out a sharp hiss as the blade sliced through their skin. Hero didn’t look down. They didn’t want to see what their body was doing to itself. Instead they stared at Villain as they cut and Villain stared at Hero, never dropping eye contact for a second.

That was until the third cut which hurt like a bitch. Hero sucked in a sharp breath as they banged their leg against the wall of the bath, wrenching their head up to stare at the ceiling and breathing slowly out through their mouth with a pained hum.

“Alright there, Hero?”

“Never bett— AGH! Fuck!”

This time Hero looked and they wished they didn’t. Sticky blood surrounded their wrist, thick and dark and gloopy looking. Hero couldn’t even tell where the cuts were because the blood from the last cut had washed over them all and left streams of blood racing down Hero’s palm. Splashing down onto the white floor of the tub.

Hero was going to be sick, but there was no time as their arm mechanically moved back to slice again. Hero looked up pleadingly into Villain’s dark eyes and found nothing but their own pathetic reflection staring back at them. Hero bit their lip to stop crying out on the last cut before Villain moved.

“Okay, Hero. That arm has enough. Mo—”

“Wait,” Hero croaked, licking their lips. “Waitwaitwaitwait, wait…”

Villain paused, tilting their head, eyebrows arching at interruption. They didn’t punish Hero though, or chastise them so Hero took that as an opportunity to continue.

“The… the blood— my knife will slip. I need to—”

“Okay Hero,” Villain said softly. “We can wait while you fix yourself.”

“Thank you,” Hero breathed, dropping the knife onto the tub floor with a clatter. Hero’s hands were shaking violently as they wiped the blood on their tracksuit bottoms, biting their lip to quiet the pained whimpers.

Villain clicked their tongue and said, “Hero stop. You’ll ruin them. Use the water.”

Hero blinked up owlishly at Villain, eyes glazed over as if the thought of using the bath hadn’t occurred to them. Hero nodded dumbly and reached over to the tab at the end of the bath and turned on the cold tap. The water was freezing. Before Hero could talk themselves out of it they grit their teeth and plunged their arm under the tap.

Hero let out a startled gasp of pain, making their other hand a fist and beating it off the side of the bath because the cuts stung under the icy water. Hero bit their lip and rubbed the sticky coagulated strings of blood from their arm and hand. They did their best to not watch them slither down the drain and instead focused on turning the tap off.

Hero looked down at their arm to see fresh bright red blood surface in their cuts. None of them too deep. Just exactly what Villain wanted.

Hero pushed themselves back to the middle of the bath, their tracksuit bottoms wet as they scooted across. Hero found Villain’s eyes with their own as they wiped the fresh streams of blood on their tracksuit, half to dry their hands, half to fuck with Villain just because.

Hero grabbed the knife and got comfortable, balancing their knees against the inside of the bath, feet planted on the bottom of the tub. They cocked a brow at Villain, as if to say I’m waiting and Villain had to laugh inwardly at the gall.

Villain’s lips quipped up at the simple defiance. “Okay, Hero. Now cut your other arm.”

Villain relished Hero’s shaking hand as they drew the knife over their skin. They wanted to record all of Hero’s micro reactions in their brain just so they can think on it whenever they’re feeling down. It was intoxicating.

To watch Hero’s hand shake, their body fight against Villain’s power and not be able to do a single thing to stop them. They could feel Hero’s mental resistance trying to fight Villain’s compulsion off them as they made the second cut. Villain drank in their expressions, every muted wince that they tried so hard not to show Villain.

It was pure turmoil they put Hero in, and it was addicting to watch. They could watch it all day, and never get bored but that was just with Hero.

Most of their other victims had a weak constitution and gave in a few days into Villain’s mental assault, in hopes that Villain would get bored and let them go, or maybe out of sheer weakness but not Hero. How long had it been now? Weeks? Months? And Hero was still fighting them.

Even if it wasn’t fighting Villain’s powers mentally it was their little looks of defiance, their unwillingness to concede even if it would make life easier on them. No… Hero was a fighter and Villain couldn’t get enough of them.

Their favourite part was coming up now… ah yes. After the third cut, Hero bit their lip to stop the sudden cry. A deeper cut. They brought their head up and stared Villain directly in the eyes, that defiance still evident through their pain filled, glassy eyes on the verge of tears.

It felt like Christmas and Hero was a gift for Villain to toy with, to batter and break and fix and break again, but a toy doesn’t give you that same satisfaction. The euphoria of seeing Hero’s white knuckled grip tight around the handle of the knife as they sliced through their flesh against their will, and tried to hide the pain in their expression. Trying and failing to hide it, but that just made it all the sweeter.

Villain leaned forward. “Two more, Hero. One deep, one shallow.”

“Nn— no,” Hero whispered, their hand shaking harder now. “No…”

“Remember little Hero, what you are. You’re my little puppet. My play thing, you don’t get to say no to me. Now, deep enough to hurt but not deep enough for hospital.”

“Fuck you,” Hero whispered venomously as they sliced through their arm deep. Hero cried out loud this time, craning their neck back to glare at the ceiling and Villain leaned closer. Observing the strain in Hero’s neck, their jaw their voice.

“FUCK! Ughh!” Hero groaned, stamping their foot against the wall of the bath again, trying to exert the pain in their arm and transfer it to the bath.

“Look at it, Hero,” Villain said, and Hero shook their head.

“Go fuck yourself, Villain.”

“Hero. I said, look at the mess you’ve made.”

Hero fought the command like they always did but still their head turned down against their will and their eyes fixed on the massacre of blood on their arm again. Villain watched as Hero visibly paled at the sight with a soft smile.

Hero made another cut while they looked at their arm and then Villain plucked the knife from Hero’s hand. Hero glared up at them. Villain just grinned.

“Clean your arms with the water, then change out of those clothes and put them for the wash. I’ll get the blood out of them, Hero don’t worry.”

“You’re so gracious,” Hero spat. Villain looked over their shoulder at Hero.

“Hero, slap your cuts for me.”

Hero barely registered the command but the sharp sting had them letting out a diminished howl through gritted teeth.

“You fucker!” Hero screamed after Villain, but Villain had already walked out of the bathroom laughing at the good of it. “I hate you!”

“I know, sweet Hero.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) - @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom

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daisybianca · 1 year

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pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: you were an innocent, average 21 year old girl who was madly in love with the German boy with those adorable, blue eyes. the only problem remaining and keeping any possible affair between the two of you totally forbidden: you were also his best friend's beloved and dearest daughter.

warnings: swearing, dirty talking, mentions of sexual activities, forbidden romance

YOU BOWED YOUR head, viewing your black high heels in shame. "I-I..." The words refused stubbornly to escape from your lips as Seb's intense blue eyes pierced into yours, reading your soul, but fortunately and luckily enough, not your thoughts.

"Just tell me, (y/n)." The paparazzi were just a few feet away. Any wrong move and you would be in multiple magazines' front cover in a instant.

Gosh, he looked extremely fine in that suit.

The urge to call him Sir and tell him to rip your red dress off wouldn't allow you to sleep peacefully in bed later. You were sure of that.

"What happened, angel?" His face expression read I'm worried about you. "Did anybody hurt you?" He insisted, pushing you to your limits.

You couldn't talk to him face to face this morning. Last night's events had rooted in your mind. You just couldn't do it anymore. You were willing to confess everything that had been torturing you this whole time.

"Seb, I'm so sorry- I truly am. I didn't intend to--" Sebastian's rough hands grabbed you gently, his right one from your wrist, while the other one found the delicate spot of your waist. His thumb caressed the surface there, burning a hole, as he guided you somewhere more privately. In a hidden place behind the parking lot, which was full of empty luxury cars.

When you arrived there, his hands let go of you and you instantly missed the warmth, craving his touch more than anything.

Just like last night.

It was hot out here in the darkness of this area. Even though your dress didn't do much to cover up your entire body, the scorching temperature didn't fail to make you sweat and nervously blush like a 14-year-old school girl.

"Okay." Sebastian started talking. "I'm really worried right now. I don't know what happened, but you'll have to tell me, otherwise we'll be stuck in this parking lot until the sun rises. I swear to God, (y/n)." His lips transformed into a thin line, as his eyes found the sky, praying that your confession wasn't be something too serious. Because if anyone dared to lay a hand on you without your permission, or hurt you in any way---Fuck, he could sense the rage coming out of him just at the thought of it occuring. That person was so fucked. "Please, tell me, angel." His German accent emerged out and his hands cupped your cheeks softly.

You wanted to cry because you knew damn well he had every right to yell at you.

He was so out of limits for you. And at the same time, so irresistibly desired.

"I did something last night." You could feel Sebastian's thumbs dancing across your burning skin.

"Tell me." Grabbing your hand, he kissed it, abandoning his wet spot there.

He had always been good with you, given that you were his dearest friend's beloved and only daughter. But things changed when you grew up and moved back in the country. Having a crush on him at a young age was something everyone thought was cute. Now it had evolved into something extremely bigger, though. You couldn't deny it.

"Please, don't yell at me." You closed your eyes tightly, afraid of the possible outcome of your confession. "Even though I think I'd yell at me if I were in your shoes right now."

Muffled sounds came from the massive building behind you, but fortunately everyone was in it and not out here.

"I would never do that." He spoke the words and pushed a long curl behind your ear.

It'd be better if you just kept the secret for yourself in the first place, you thought. However, the weight of it hurt your innocent soul and you wouldn't be calm unless you confessed it to him.

"I pleasured myself," You bit your lip, your voice barely audible to the blond-haired man before you. "...thinking about you." A tear was so ready to roll. Sebastian's eyes darkened as he walked a tiny step away, obviously surprised. "I swear, Sebastian, I didn't want to- I just-."

"You touched yourself at the thought of me?" His grin began to form, confusing the words in your head and not letting them flee. "(y/n), did you touch yourself last night while thinking about me?" He repeated but didn't gain an answer once again. "Fuck, I-" Seb scratched his beard and turned around. Facing his back and a perfectly-ironed black blazer, you crossed your arms on your chest.

Sebastian laughed and turned again to face you.

That would be a hell of a long night.

When his eyes met yours, a hot tear slipped, not having the energy and willingness to hold it back anymore.

"No, no, don't cry, love." Rushing to you, he hugged you and time seemed to stop for a single moment.

"I freaking hate confessions." You cried in his neck as he held you there.

A few seconds passed and then Sebastian forced you to look at him again by grabbing your chin with his thumb. "Can I make a confession too?" He asked and you looked up at him. "In order to make you feel a little better?"

You tried to laugh at your father's best friends words. "Nothing can make me feel better, right now, Seb."

He titled his head, lowering his neck to approach you even more. "Well,... let me try at least. Okay?" His lips almost touched your forehead and you could sense his hot breath and the familiar and alluring cologne just a few inches away. "What if I told you I've done this multiple times before?" A breath was captured in your lungs.

"What?" You legs felt wobbly, your breath unsteady.

"It's hard to distract myself when I pass by your father's house almost every day of the week, with you being there too." Shivers were sent down your spine and lower body. You couldn't believe what he was telling you. "You don't know how many cold showers I have to take when I arrive home at nights, (y/n)." Seb said and collided with yours, filling the kiss with indescribable lust.

And that was the moments when you realized you wanted him so badly.

He craved you too. Surely more than you did--if that was even possible--even though he knew nothing should happen between the two of you in a romantic way. He knew that since the moment he saw you for the first time a few months ago, when you came back from university.

But his love for you was forbidden and he risked his life for it. He risked his bond and unique friendship with your father just so as to steal a single kiss from you.

"I'm willing to break my rules for you, angel."

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3

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mischiefmaker615 · 1 year

Note

Loki request: Y/N convincing Loki to let her glam him up.

Get Seated

Note: didn't know this could turn out dirty but somehow it did LOL

Rating: R

‘’’pleasssssssse??’’

Loki sighed in frustration as he kept walking down the halls, trying to tune out his girlfriend that trailed along behind him in yet another attempt to have her way. ‘’despite the way I love to hear you beg darling, for the last time Y/N, I. don’t. want. too.’’

‘’but why not?’’ you pout as your legs try to keep up with his longer ones ‘’you looked so amazing at the gala, what’s a little extra?- annndd you don’t even have to go out after, I just want to see what the finishing result is..’’ you beg and nearly bump into him when he comes to a halt to steer back to look at you.

‘’your version of this activity normally is suites best for females.’’ He reminded and bent down so he was more eye level with you, making you bit your lip with a blush as his blue eyes hold your own. ‘’Y/N darling, from all the images you show me on your Midgardian device.. pinterester..or.. whatever the place is called- they are impressive, and the work you do on yourself in your free time makes you drop dead gorgeous all the more.. but face paint isn’t for me.’’

‘’its makeup, face paint makes it sound like its more for clowns.’’ You pout and straighten up to try to seem more in charge of this all but his smirk told you, you weren’t going to come close to his height but you decided to move on anyway. ‘’..its sometimes difficult to do certain styles and looks id like to try on myself because it depends on angles and whatnot- even the hairstyles can be tricky if I cant reach the back so seeing the finishing result on someone else gives me a good idea before I waste time on myself-‘’

Loki’s eyes were less than amused as you pretty much repeated your reasons from the fifth time this morning. He was just as stubborn as you were and depending on the situation really depended on who would win in the end. Seeing how he wasn’t going to budge, you sigh in defeat and look away from him, mischief hinting in your eyes as you were prepared to do something dangerous.

‘’fine then.. I guess I could ask someone else, but I need to work on long hair.. perhaps Thor would-‘’

A hand on your wrist cut you off as Loki raised your arm and backed you up, pinning your hand above your head as your back met the wall, your other hand resting on his chest automatically as his eyes were dangerously close to yours. There was a long pause, the only sound that came from you both were your breathing as his eyes slowly looked you over. You weren’t afraid, you knew your boyfriend had his jealous moments he needed to work on, and most of the time it ended in sex so you definitely weren’t complaining there. You felt his hand slowly release yours as both his hands came up to trap you against the hall, resting on either side of your head as you innocently look up at him.

‘’… fine. But I’m not going out in public in anything and you must abide by my condition.’’

You bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him, his hungry gaze having you squirm as you seemed to shrink from where you stood. ‘’.. what condition?’’

His smirk made you want to rethink the whole thing.

~~~

‘’y-you’re making it e-extremely difficult you know, gods forbid I poke your eye out.’’

You stammer as you try to apply once more the eye liner without getting distracted by his smug smirk, let alone his hands that caressed your thighs and hips, and his throbbing cock that twitched as he held you in place while you straddled his lap.

There was only a small argument where you had to convince him to let you style his hair in the bathroom before you both ‘get seated’, and luckily he obliged where you got to curl his beautiful black hair in loose curls. Of course he had to torture you for winning that battle where he would constantly make you rise and fall on his cock when you needed to switch out make up brushes and twitch whenever he saw a hint of your face getting ready to concentrate. Gods how could you love and hate someone at the same time sometimes..

‘’you’re the one who agreed to the deal my dear, its not my fault you have poor concentration.’’ He lightly mocked and you rethought of poking his eye out.

You decided to go with a gold and black look, using his fine cheekbones to your advantage to and almost forgot this look was suppose to be for yourself in the end.. but he worked it SO well! You went light, being a man you didn’t want him to look like he stepped out of drag, but even then you were proud of yourself as you managed to get the final touches done before you felt your orgasm knocking on your door.

‘’a-all done.’’ You breathed out, having a light sweat as you held back your pleasure to get the job done, knowing Loki knew if you were to come, he would instantly stop things to finish what you both have unintendedly started- or some of us anyway.

‘’alright darling, it didn’t take as long as I thought it would,’’

Bastard

‘’might you hand me the mirror?’’ he asked innocently, lifting you up and down agonizingly slowly to keep you on the brink of orgasm and your legs shivered at the sensation as you glanced to the nightstand where you had kept everything to work. Grabbing it, he kept the slow rhythm as you turned it for him and he moved his face to each side to see what you have done.

Knowing your boyfriend a bit by now, you could tell he was hiding a smile as he nodded with a hum ‘’I’m not saying we should go out darling, especially since I love the idea of remaining here for the rest of the day,’’ he smirked, twitching his cock in you that nearly made you drop the mirror ‘’but you have fine art skills love, with the suit I wore at the gala, it would be a fine look indeed’’ he smiled, pleased in more ways than one as you smiled triumphantly.

‘’so you really like it?’’

‘’I love it darling, and I know if it were on yourself, I’d ravish you all the more’’ he praised and rewarded you with a grind, your hands now gripping his shoulders but he stopped his movements just to tease and you pouted. ‘’of course darling, make up or no makeup, we both know how this usually ends..’’ he hinted with a husky tone as you fought his hands on your hips to try to grind but his grip held you in place.

‘’L-Loki..pleasssee…’’

Loki closed his eyes as he took a breath, his thumbs rubbing your bare skin in small circles before he raised his hips again into you.

‘’I so love it when you beg…’’

#loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki series #loki x reader #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #loki show

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dozing-marshmallow · 1 month

Note

Do you have any more headcanons of Chris being a dad? This time raising his teenager who wants to get in the show despite reader's detest?

My motivation is back. 🙌 Apologises for putting these off for so long and thank you all so much for being so patient. I hope you’ve all had a wonderful start in the Spring Season and may you enjoy the read!💗

CHRIS MCLEAN AS A DAD HEADCANONS PART 2

Once a month, he and the child have this all nighter of ordering fast food and playing video games.

Chris is the type of dad to play games like Mortal Kombat, Call of Duty and GTA 5 with his teenager.

Obviously you don’t approve of it, but it’s better than her trying to persuade you into letting her on his show.

Like last time.

“Chris’ show?” you consciously blinked,“Why would you want to go on that show, sweetheart?”

“I have what it takes!” she gleefully replies, putting a proud hand on her chest,“And besides, if you’re comfortable with all the other kids my age going on, you should be fine with me, mom!”

You sighed. There would be so many complications that could wreck Total Drama if the host’s damn daughterjoined as a contestant,“But my dear... The whole point of the show is to win money! And mommy and daddy already-“

“I don’t care about the money!” she snapped in interruption, yet her tone remained in her own way benevolent,“Iwant to start drama. I’ve had plenty of experience in doing that!”

To your horror, Chris gave a grand laugh at that,“That’s my girl!”

“Support me here! I’m not letting you feed into her delusion that she’ll actually be going on your show! This is horrible influence!“ you scolded Chris unimpressed with how okay he was with this idea, turning back to the daughter in question, with a dejected frown,“Darling, it’s a bad idea! Maybe another show daddy’s hosting, but notthis one. I don’t approve.”

“Daaaaaad.” she whined, her begging eyes rolled onto him.

“I know, I know.” Your husband exhales a disappointing breath. And it’s not exactly like he can bring her on secret since it’s a reality show,“Just goes to show how mother doesn’t always know best.”

“You said something, Chris?” You said, removing the flip flop off your foot and gripping it in your hand.

He nervously smiles seeing you armed,“Naaaah. I-I said nothing.”

You humphed. Why can’t they both see that you were thinking of them long term?

Regardless, he goes all out on spoiling her, no thing is ever too expensive for his little girl.

Why wait for sixteen to throw her an expensive birthday party?

Albeit, it seems she’s taken after your morals as she also puts a lot of her allowance (Keep in mind, she gets the literal prize money amount every month) towards charities and many shelters.

Thank God for that.

If she ever brought a boyfriend home, Chris would plaster hospitality and bump a fist.

Though, he’ll do a lot of interrogating and enjoy the hell out of torturing the guy if he turns out to be even the slightest bit scumbag.

Rather than letting his fame decide, Chris actually asked her which type of school she wanted to go to.

“Public!” she chose quickly.

Chris raised an eyebrow. He had bet a yacht and two helicopters she’d pick private,“Why’s that?”

“Because I read in a book once that this girl went to a boarding school and her dad, who was paying the fees, died so she got abused by the people at the school, and I don’t want you to die.”

Chris’ eyebrows then came to the same level as he chuckled,“I’m a host, not a military captain for World War One, tiger,” but sure, whatever she wanted.

She never had any crying at the dinner table over maths homework nights with him.

For he was way too busy to not hire a tutor for her.

“Hi darling!” you kiss her cheek,“How was school today?”

“School was good-“ she’d catch sight of Chris entering the kitchen and before you knew it, she was sprinting to him.

“Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, I have new gossip to tell you!” she could hardly contain the excitement seeping on her face and tone.

He’d smirk and take a seat at his island counter, cup of coffee in hand,“I’m all ears!”

#total drama #request #chris mclean #tdi x reader #td chris #tdi #chris mclean x reader #td chris mclean x reader #total drama chris mclean #total drama island chris #total drama chris #dad chris mclean #chris mclean x you #hi!! <3

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 2 years

Text

18 | chapter six

summary: billy asks the sky something and your plan backfires.

warnings: swearing.

listen to: Not Another Rockstar - Maisie Peters | Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts (playlist here)

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

“Are you stalking me?” you snapped at him while your eyes narrowed but he scoffed, seemingly annoyed at the

question.

“No,” he lied.

In all honesty, Billy wasn’t exactly stalking you. Oakland street was simply already on his lists of neighborhoods he liked to drive by but the number of times he drove over there after you’d moved to the street had fairly risen a little bit.

Like, he drove by almost every day.

In his defense, it was because he struggled a lot to try to understand you. When he’d met you, you seemed like you were dangerous and wicked, brave and confident but then you showed up to the school, acting like a little goody-goody two-shoes cheerleader who then flipped him off and cursed every time he walked by. In the last few days, he’d been rejecting more times by you, than ever in his whole life. It came to the point that he didn’t even speak, he stayed silent and simply looked at you almost as if he was hoping that you were joking, that you wouldn’t simply hate his guts without even actually knowing him.

Although, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected- that you’d be excited to see him? That you would crack a smile, finally, to any of his compliments? But with how you’d acted the last week, he knew that that wouldn’t happen, this was you, that he was talking about.

And yet, he still thought that you might be capable of emotion other than blind hate for him.

Too bad he was fucking wrong.

“That’s a yes,” you stated blankly. “Stop being a fucking peeping tom,” you replied and Billy notice immediately the exhaustion on your voice and he felt sick. It had only been a day since you were flipping him off, but you’d change dramatically from one day to another. You had dark circles under your eyes, your eyes seemed a bit puffy and red, and your skin seemed a bit paler than you remembered- or maybe it was the lighting, he thought.

And Billy was worried for a second.

“I’m not, I just-” he struggled with his own words but as you always seemed to do, you were cutting him off.

“You know what Hargrove, I really couldn’t care less about your reasons just stop,” you muttered before closing your locker and you walked away from him.

Billy stayed silent for a second.

Billy’s chest ached a bit, but he attempted to mask his hurt in front of you and the school -as he had sworn to himself, he had decided to never show weakness in front of anyone again. It had been over a week since you’d met at dawn and talked. He’d really felt like he connected with you in a way he had never connected to anyone and yes, he might’ve been also lusting after you but there was something in Billy that let him feel a raw emotion for you, and he’d let his hopes up as soon as he’d met you in lunch.

But then, you’d iced Billy out and after your little conversation, you’d never even given him a chance to talk. Instead, you were giving everyone else a chance to meet you, a chance of getting to know you and that’s why he’d passed so many times in front of your new place… he couldn’t help but wonder who you’d open up to.

He wondered about it throughout the day. He wondered if truly god -the universe- was simply toying with him, placing you in front of him in a way he couldn’t possibly ignore, making you part of his daily life just for the sake of torturing him. Maybe that was it, maybe Billy as he had always known, didn’t deserve good things to happen to him, maybe this was another one of those times. He couldn’t help but feel immense agony as he glanced at the back of your head at English class, where you sat at the front.

And for probably the second time in his life, he asked something from the higher power that liked to toy with him.

Although he knew he didn’t believe in it, he decided that maybe it was worth a shot.

Please, just send me a sign or I’ll let her go, he thought to himself as his eyes turned to the window next to him, he stared at the sky for a moment.

Just a moment before his thoughts were snapped by the words of Mrs. Clarke.

“Hargrove and y/n/l,” she stated as she pulled her glasses down for a second. Billy frowned as he turned to you, who seemed to be grinding your teeth but refused to look at him, if Billy was being honest he wasn’t paying much attention that day, although English was his favorite class. “Great Gatsby is your book,” she stated and Billy’s jaw dropped for a second.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help yourself from swearing.

You turned to him, Billy’s eyes had a mischievous glint and you wrinkled your nose in dissatisfaction. The rest of the class started to murmur and some laughed. As if you weren’t already having a bad day, you thought. Therefore, simply shrank in your seat as you turned to see Mrs. Clarke again as she hadn’t even noticed what had happened, completely uninterested in what her students were talking about and she continued repeating name after name.

But you, you didn’t hear anything else that she was saying, your mind simply examined how to fucking get out of doing an assignment with Billy Hargrove. You had managed to get some information on Billy during your lunches with the gang and none of it was good. He wasn’t a top A student, he was a bully, he had almost broken Steve Harringtons' nose one time and he had hooked up with multiple girls in school, god, and even (supposedly) with mothers.

You couldn’t be near that kind of a mess. Not after everything that happened with you in Chicago, and so you decided that the best way to avoid it, was simply talking with Mrs. Clarke after class.

“Hargrove,” you grumbled as Billy passed in front of you, like most of the class he was already leaving but when he heard his name on your lips, he turned around with a teasing smile. “Stay,” you ordered him and he simply nodded before he looked at you.

You still seemed kind of sick but now your jaw was set in annoyance and your eyes had the same fire they did when you first met. You even looked a bit more like yourself from that day, he gazed down at your legs like he’d done when you first met but then his eyes met yours and they were met with a chilling glare as you took your bag and quickly leaned on the desk of Mrs. Clarke, who was reading Pride and Prejudice, unaware of the scene taking place in front of her.

“Mrs. Clarke?” you asked and she raised her gaze uninterested.

You sighed, knowing this could be harder than what you’d anticipated. See, you usually did well with teachers and Mrs. Clarke was good at her subject but she seemed to block out any noise that came from her students unless it had to do with the topics you were touching on in the class. Maybe it was a defense mechanism from all the years of experience but you digressed giving it another thought.

“I was wondering if I could do this project by myself,” you stated with a sweet smile while she blinked. “With my academic record and my plans to study English in college, I truly believe it would be for the best interest of the project if I did it alone,”

Mrs. Clarke stared at you for a moment, her expression unreadable for you as you waited for her to simply mutter a yes but she didn’t.

“Hm,” she said, a blank look still on her gaze before she turned to Billy who was leaning against the classroom wall, seemingly ignoring the conversation. “What do you say, Hargrove?”

Billy shrugged, acting as uninterested as he could although deep down he couldn’t wait for the other shoe to drop. “Whatever you say, Mrs. Clarke,” he finally muttered as he placed his hands on his pockets while you gave him an incredulous look.

“See? He doesn’t even care already,” you grumbled as you pointed at him, thinking that Billy’s action might encourage Mrs. Clarke to make the right choice. “I can’t work with that,”

Mrs. Clarke finally place her book down and sighed.

“Mrs. y/l/n, you might not know this because you are new but Mr. Hargrove over here is my best student,” she stated while you just felt your stomach dropping. You turned to Billy, who was puffing his chest a bit and he wiggled his eyebrows at you before Mrs. Clarke continued. “And with the grades that you brought from your other school, I sincerely hope you give me an amazing project on this book. There will be no changes,” she finished and you swallowed hard, splotchy red appearing on your cheeks. “Now, if you excuse me, I need some coffee,” Mrs. Clarke finished before she took her book and walked right out of the class.

Billy stayed silent for a second as he watched you carefully. He wondered if you were going to pass out but you simply sucked in a breath to keep yourself composed. In all honesty, you did feel like you were going to pass out as you felt an awful sinking feeling in your gut as you realized how you’d acted just now. You felt terrible for a second, maybe Billy Hargrove was a dick and an asshole but you had tried to basically humiliate him in front of a teacher because you were having a shitty day and it had backfired.

And now, you felt like you couldn’t even look at him in the eyes.

Before you realized what you were doing, you walked out of the classroom, unclear of your schedule for a second and feeling completely and utterly humiliated to the point that as you walked through a mostly empty hallway, you were trying to clear the gummy tears of your throat, you weren’t sure why exactly you wanted to cry but you just knew you felt awful.

“y/n,” you heard him saying in his husky voice that quickly sent shivers down your spine but you continued walking. “y/n, stop please,” he repeated before he was taking your hand and made you turn around.

Your eyes landed on his hand, on yours. His grip was firm and his hands were big, you hadn’t realized either before, and for some reason, you felt your heartbeat racing a bit as he suddenly brushed his thumb over your knuckles. There were scars over them and your eyes flickered between his hand and his face. He was looking at you almost apprehensively, but he didn’t let go. Your eyes turned to your hands once more and you realized how warm he was and although his hands felt rough, his touch was so light and careful, as if you might break.

You let out a breath before you were pulling your hand away from his, clearing your throat before you spoke, scared that it might sound too small and weak.

“What?”

Billy sighed, realizing that whatever act you were putting on had just faded away for a second but now it was back. “I just want to talk about the project,” he lied while he passed a hand through his blonde curls as one fell over his forehead so perfectly that you had to look away for a second.

You sighed. You knew you’d been a bit unfair to him since you saw him again at lunch the day you’d met and although you’d tried to avoid him, destiny or whatever force you believed in at the moment -not that you believed a lot- had forced you to work with him, so at least you thought, you had to give him a chance.

“If I let you talk to me about the project after school will you stop stalking me?” you asked him.

Billy’s eyes suddenly light up, they seemed bluer than ever before. Like when the sea it’s getting hit by the sun in the morning.

“Yes,” he breathed out, almost as if he was relieved that you hadn’t pushed him away anymore and you smiled.

“Meet me here,” you muttered before pulling out a card from your backpack. “Afterschool and don’t be late,” you grumbled but Billy simply nodded happily and you turned away. Maybe he wasn’t that bad, you thought.

***

author's note: almost ready to chapter eight!! I'm so so excited for the next few chapters. I'm extremely grateful for all the support, really, like I can't explain how much your kind comments mean to me like they have really become the highlight of my year!!

***

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***

feedback is always welcomed!!

buy me a coffee or help me with my laptop? thank youu

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attonposting · 1 year

Text

Can we stop to talk about the conversation with Atton where he rambles about women and the idea of love? Because good lord can this man project like a movie theater. We're talking fractal projection. Give him a frickin' medal, because it's projection all the way down.

It's a very missable bit of dialogue. You can only get it with a male Exile, and only then if you've cheesed off Brianna by causing her influence to dip 30 points below Visas's. Unfortunately, this also causes Brianna to permanently stop talking to you, so this is something you're only ever gonna see by accident. I only learned that could even happen pretty recently, and that's with maybe 6 male Exile playthroughs under my belt. I guess I'm just very thorough about exhausting everyone's dialogue options all the time.

So. Brianna's permanently cut herself off as a companion, courtesy of Kreia whispering in her ear, and that sucks. But at least your trashman pilot has something to say about it... and whoa boy is it a consolation prize. Atton proceeds to launch into an arm-around-your-shoulders buddy talk that has exactly nothing to do with your problems and everything to do with his personal issues.

Exile: The Handmaiden lost her temper with me.

Atton: Oh, there's a surprise. Trust me, she's a handful - all warriors are. They're not used to dealing with things they can't punch, kick, or break. Look, I know how it is. Me, there's no denying that I'm a good-looking guy. You have it worse, because even though you might not be as good-looking as me, you have that whole tortured past, that command presence. Women want to save you. They think they can help you.

Exile: What are we talking about?

Atton: They think that everyone can be redeemed, and that they're the only ones who can do it. And you don't know if it's you, or the idea of you that they love.

Exile: [Awareness] Are we talking about me or you?

Atton: We're just talking. Like I said, I've never understood women. It's possible they don't love you at all. That they just want to help you... help you hear yourself if you've gone deaf to your own voice. We all lose our way sometimes, and we need someone to pull us back.

Exile: [Awareness] Sounds like you've had that experience before.

Atton: Don't remember. Truth is, I still don't listen to my conscience even when it's shouting. I think there's times I'd rather be completely deaf than hear it. But all this talk doesn't matter. I'm not qualified to give advice. Besides, when I open my mouth, I'm usually lying anyway.

Like. Just. Holy shit, Atton. Yeah, he's clearly talking about the Jedi who tried to save him, but there's so much more to unpack in here. Let's break it down.

“Women want to save you. They think they can help you.” - Atton wants to save you. He wants to be the hero to your story, something he projects at Mical (to the latter's confusion), but which can also be read into a lot of his actions – when he starts taunting the assassin on Telos to draw heat off you, when he runs out on Nar Shaddaa to give you medpacs and do the same thing with the bounty hunters. The hard evidence is on Malachor. If Atton dies, he says it outright: “Did I save you yet?” And if he falls to the Dark Side, he tells Mical that “he wanted to protect [the Exile], to help her” before he lost his chance.

“They think that everyone can be redeemed, and that they're the only ones who can do it.” - Yeah, it's not really about helping the Exile. Atton needs to be the one that 'saves' you, as a balm to his own lack of purpose and self-worth, and he gets real pissy if anyone else does a better job helping you – or god forbid gets close to you. He's constantly insecure, he's unhappy with most new party members when they join up and, and seriously, the only crime Mical ever committed was being a genuinely good dude in a crew full of misfits. Too bad the galaxy's greasiest pilot reads that as a threat.

“And you don't know if it's you, or the idea of you that they love.” - Atton's attraction to you in a nutshell, and that's before you get the question of Force Bonds involved. Like, seriously. Does he genuinely love you as a person, or is he in love with you as an ideal – as someone who could stop running and face the music for their unforgivable crimes, as someone who actually tries to fix the damage they did? As someone who can still find it in them to care about people after the war broke them down? As a Jedi that actually lives up to the ideal both the Council and Revan failed to? As someone he believes he can relate to, because he thinks he knows your reasons for what you did? Are you a stand-in for his dead Jedi and his hundred conflicting feelings over her? Is he just in love with the idea of having a purpose and wants someone he can bury himself in? Is the idea of martyring himself and finally dying for a reason what he's really obsessed with? Pick your flavor, because who knows! He certainly doesn't!

“It's possible they don't love you at all.” - While this has a lot to do with him wondering why the hell anyone would have tried to save him, I also think this is him reflecting on his own confused feelings towards the Exile. They might not be romantic with an M!Exile (or if they are, he's having intense bi denial), but they're absolutely there and he does not know what to make of them.

“That they just want to help you... help you hear yourself if you've gone deaf to your own voice. We all lose our way sometimes, and we need someone to pull us back.” - This has nothing to do with the Exile, the Handmaiden, or anyone who isn't an ex-Sith assassin who had empathy forcibly shoved into their brain after years of progressively more fucked-up descent into all-consuming hatred.

“Truth is, I still don't listen to my conscience even when it's shouting.” - He almost gets away with this one, but Atton's deep in denial here. He doesn't want to hear it, but he can't turn it off, the same way he can't stop feeling things when he used to have total control of his emotions (because he barely felt anything at all.) It's all why he can't go back to who he was, even though he badly misses the certainty he used to feel. Atton is a pro at ignoring his conscience, which definitely has nothing to do with how much he hates himself, total coincidence... but as soon as the Exile gets involved, that goes out the window, because Atton's self-preservation glitches out. Their Force wound tugs on his better nature... or it yanks at his opposite. And if that happens, Atton is very aware of what's happening to him. He succumbs, but he has more to say on the Exile's fall than anyone short of Kreia. And light or dark, his (im)moral compass gets jarred from 'cover my own ass' to 'protect the Exile' and he repeatedly sticks his neck out for no gain, so yeah, I call bullshit here. He's smack in the middle of his biggest crisis of conscience since the Sith.

“Besides, when I open my mouth, I'm usually lying anyway.” Well, at least he admits it.

#kotor ii #kotor 2 #atton rand #disaster man extraordinaire #slaps ribbed jacket #this bad boy can fit so much projection in it #you can also get atton to say she woke him up inside and i cannot possibly react to this in any other way than yelling evanescence lyrics #happy may the 4th!#have some highly specific analysis on a 19-year-old game

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beautifulterriblequeen · 2 months

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The new TDP interview is out and you should read it! But I'm holding Viren like this now

I might not need to but I just wanna 😏

It's based on this section of the interview:

"We had a story we wanted to do and we've done it..." sure does imply things about Viren's fate, doesn't it?

Specifically, that he's actually dead, and that he's not coming back this time.

Let me be real clear on this bit: I'm okay with it if this is just obfuscation and Viren finds a way to get back up again. That would be hilarious to me. Unreliable narrators are my favorite things and the showrunners absolutely count!! I'm here for it.

Also, I've made no secret of wanting Viren to keep suffering for my entertainment so jot that down.

But if this eventuality should occur, and Viren is actually definitely super dead this time, that presents us with a whole category of new, different parallels.

Picture a character who's already on the brink of death. He's been contemplating it for days and days. He's been leaning toward it for personal and moral reasons, to make the world just a little better once he's gone. He sees no other way out and he wants the agency to choose his own fate.

Did you think of Viren, or Runaan?

They're both in the same position right now: trying to die as the only halfway decent option for the impossible situation they're in. The only potential difference is that Runaan wasn't allowed to exercise his own agency, because Viren himself prevented it. And now that Viren's getting his own chance to forge his own way out of life, he might get the very thing that he deliberately prevented another from reaching.

Rude.

You little fuck, where was this growth of yours two years ago?? Why did you get a pass on determining your own fate, when you specifically refused to allow the man you tortured and experimented on to choose that fate for himself?? You bastard fuck.

God.

There. Now I feel better. It's not easy sharing a mbti with Viren but I make do. Fiction is so cathartic you guys, omg.

(just to be clear I am actually delighted that I'm so upset about this! It's good for the soul to care deeply sometimes and it's been a hot second for me since I had the energy to form firm opinions so this is healthy progress and I love it leave me be)

#tdp #tdp parallels #viren #runaan #tdp spoilers #if viren actually dies i'll just write a fic about him living #easy peasy

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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 7 days

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i read your post you tagged “if you take nothing else from this blog let it be this”

and i’m glad i did because it paints a really great picture of your ideology

“i have nothing in common with trans women,” you say, and then you proceed to describe in vivid detail some obviously painful memories from your childhood that stayed with you: begging god to “fix” you, being viewed as dangerous by your peers for your identity.

you’re so right, when trans women were children everyone always clapped them on the back and said “great job today buddy we accept you!”

they never felt alienated, they were never treated as predators whilst being mere children, and they certainly never hoped a higher power would make them normal.

nothing human is alien to yourself and i’m sorry you think you have not an inch of common ground with 50% of the earth. i hope you’re very young, that would explain this really defensive, combative and self-isolating stance you’ve taken.

i’m a cis woman who was also bullied in middle school for being gay so unfortunately you cannot write this off as another “angry man” or whatever, but i expect you’ll find some other way to dismiss this criticism, or maybe you’ll pretend you didn’t read it despite me reading your much longer vitriolic post.

i’m not saying you have to love and welcome trans women into Our Spaces—although i wish you did feel that way—but specifically i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis. are genitals really that defining of a human being? i personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.

No, anon, I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t read this ask. I do acknowledge and appreciate two things:

You took the time to read my post. If I can be honest, I thought it’d be a bigger hit, and the fact it wasn’t is at least partially contributed to its length, I’m sure.

Even though you clearly disagree with me, this ask is respectful. I really do appreciate that.

With that out of the way, I would like to give you a response.

““I have nothing in common with trans women,” you say, and then you proceed to describe in vivid detail some obviously painful memories from your childhood that stayed with you: begging god to “fix” you, being viewed as dangerous by your peers for your identity.

you’re so right, when trans women were children everyone always clapped them on the back and said “great job today buddy we accept you!”

they never felt alienated, they were never treated as predators whilst being mere children, and they certainly never hoped a higher power would make them normal.”

I would like to point out that the post I made was specifically talking about “lesbian” trans women. In the beginning, I speak a bit generally about trans women as a whole, but my post was mainly about straight males who claim to be lesbians. I'm willing to accept that I have plenty in common with homosexual trans women (trans women into males) because we are both gay. Not only that, but I can relate to being so gnc that I’d rather just be the opposite sex. However, this part of your ask does not make nearly as much sense if we are talking about heterosexual trans women. Yes. Straight males very much so are considered normal. I think where people like you and people like me get into the most arguments is that we can't decide who is and who is not a trans woman. You seem to view them as tortured minorities who struggled since childhood. And some of them are—mostly the homosexual ones, but the thing is that men with sissy fetishes or autogynephilia also call themselves trans women. “But they’re not!” is what you’re probably saying, right? Those men are perverts, right? Okay, but they call themselves trans women. How do you know who's telling the truth or not? How do we prevent the liars from hurting women? What is stopping a man with a fucked up fetish from identifying as trans, entering a woman’s bathroom, and assaulting someone? You might be thinking that if a man wants to assault somebody, a woman's bathroom sign isn't going to stop him from doing so, but the thing is, if you make it a law that anybody can go into whatever bathroom they want to go into, it then becomes asinine to call the police on him. The police can't do anything because how do they know he doesn't belong there? Do you understand why this whole thing causes women such great pause?

You and I can trade pathos all day. I can tell you sad stories from my childhood growing up gay. You can talk to me about a sad boy crying in his room wishing he was a girl. It always comes back to “who do you care about more?” If a teenage girl talks about feeling genuine discomfort over males being allowed in the school locker rooms and a teenage boy talks about how much he wishes he had access to the girl locker rooms because he “feels” like a girl, whose side do you take? Who do you care about more? I will always choose women and gay people.

I left something out of my post, anon. It wasn't relevant but now I think it is. I've talked about this before but when I was a kid I struggled greatly with the fact that I was black. I can say with full confidence that I had racial dysphoria. I wanted to be white so badly. Both of my parents are black people, but I used to ask people if I could pass as half white. It was pretty bad. Would you have told me that I was meant to be born white? No? Then why do you think it’s okay to tell someone they’re meant to be born the opposite sex? Why is sex the only thing people are allowed to say is “wrong” about them? How ingrained are biases about sex that people look at a little boy playing with dolls, say “he’s supposed to be a girl”, and a disturbing amount of people say “true!”? That’s insane! Imagine if someone looked at a white person eating watermelon and said they were meant to be born black? That’s how people with your ideology sound. You don’t think you sound that way because you’ve had so many people backing you up, but if you can tell me why racial dysphoria isn’t valid but gender dysphoria is, I’ll reconsider everything. It is my “bad” luck I was born black, anon. There is nothing I can do to change that. Some boy wishing he was a girl is a sad thing, sure, but it’s simply a matter of tough luck lmao. He shouldn’t suddenly get everything he wants just because of that.

“nothing human is alien to yourself and i’m sorry you think you have not an inch of common ground with 50% of the earth. i hope you’re very young, that would explain this really defensive, combative and self-isolating stance you’ve taken.

50% of the population? You and I have been talking about trans women this whole time. Are they 50% of the population? Are you talking about men when you say this? Why? This is a bit of a freudian slip, anon. Seems like I’m not the only one here who knows trans women and men are the same thing.

I do think that “nothing human is alien to yourself” is a beautiful phrase, and I do agree! There are men and straight people I can relate to just fine. But I don’t agree with calling males lesbians and I don’t agree that people can be born in the wrong body. I am defensive and combative. Women and lesbians are actively being threatened. Self-isolating though? No, I don’t think so. I don't feel isolated at all. In fact, I think being open about my views has led to me being close to people I never would’ve thought. And even if my views did lead to my isolation, I would much rather be alone than with people who are actively hurting women and gay people.

“i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis.” I can concede that saying “nothing” was more emotion based than logic based, but I think that the straight male experience is pretty damn different from the lesbian one. The male experience, in general, is pretty different from what I’ve had. That’s what I was speaking about.

“are genitals really that defining of a human being?” I don’t know about how much they define a human being, anon, but they definitely do contribute a lot to how the world treats you. If you have a penis, the world treats you a shit ton better than they do if you have a vagina. That’s just facts. Nobody can help being born with a penis, but the world is not a fair place. Also, for a trait that is apparently so neutral, people with penises manage to commit 90% of all violent crime. What do you make of that? If genitals are really neutral, why isn’t the crime rate between people with vaginas and people with penises a 50-50 split? You said yourself that nothing human is an alien concept to other humans, so if women go through the same experiences men do, why is there such a large disparity in crime? Why can women go through the things men do (and worse, let’s be real) and generally not end up as criminals? What is it about having a penis that contributes to this?

“I personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.” I never said women are only their vaginas. If I tried to talk about racism, I would not be “reducing black people down to their skin color”. There is no reason why talking about the female experience should be met with claims I’m reducing women down to their vaginas.

#I love that you think I would've thought you were an angry man #they would've never been so nice #especially on anon #I didn't know you were a cis woman (you could've been a trans man) but I knew you were female #Also if you missed it #the link to what anon is talking about is in the underlined 'post' is point number 1 at the beginning

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stevetonyweekly · 1 year

Text

SteveTony Weekly - February 12

Hey friends, this week has been--really not good. I didn’t read much at all--I apologize for that. Hopefully we’ll get more next week.

~*~

Submission Hold by Letterblade

"Tony," Steve says, somewhat gently. "So you're saying, what, that you like it when I hold you down?"

Sacrifice Play by Amonet

“I like you a lot actually,” Tony says because he can’t lie when Steve looks at him like that. “Maybe a bit too much.”

Tony hadn't expected to have to explain to Steve why he tries to save the Captains life every time he gets himself in danger because it isn't like Steve cared about him, right? Turns out, Steve wants to solve this problem right now and he doesn't let Tony make excuses. Misunderstandings ensue, get resolved and maybe they've both been wrong all along?

Open Your Eyes by missbecky

Steve and Tony's friendship finally appears to be heading for more. Now if only Steve could find the right time to tell Tony the truth. In which many things are resolved, Steve is clueless, there are Christmas presents and mistletoe and kisses, and oh yeah, Tony makes it snow.

I've Got Something So Sweet by Reioka

Tony bakes when stressed, and the holidays are apparently some of the most stressful weeks for him. Steve reaps the benefits, even if everyone does give him the side-eye for eating so many sweets.

Folded Hearts by FestiveFerret

As if the box of ornaments Tony was unloading had read his mind, the next one he pulled out was a small, delicately folded, origami swan, the creases worn to white on the blue and red paper, its beak permanently crooked.

Tony's heart ached as he cradled the tiny bird. Steve Rogers. He hated to use the phrase "the one that got away," since he and Steve still texted regularly, but man, it sure felt like he was.

(Un)Fortunate Circumstances by lomku

Or how Steve wakes up from the ice in the SHIELD facility, runs into Tony, and kind of kidnaps him in his bid for freedom.

Flipping Through Channels by KandiSheek

When Loki hits Tony and Steve with an illusion spell during their fight, Tony is prepared for torture, nightmares, the whole shebang. What he's not prepared for is being trapped in a kitschy eighties rom-com with him and Steve as the protagonist and love interest.

And why the hell does Loki want them to kiss so badly?

There's a First Time for Everything by viklikesfic (v_angelique)

"What are you, Cap, some kind of masochist?"

Later, Steve will blame his response to Stark's quip on the heavy-duty painkillers Bruce is administering via IV in serum-resistant doses. He smirks, hissing just a little at the way the motion pulls at the cuts on his face, and looks at Tony dead-on with his one open eye.

"Buy me a drink and maybe I'll tell you."

the slowest runner in all the world by silkspectred

Tony was pregnant in Siberia. Steve didn't know.

[This is the main story that frames all the others.]

oscillations by silkspectred

Steve and Tony rebuild their relationship.

Just For Now by complicationstoo

Tony and Steve have never gotten along, but when Tony lies to his mom about bringing his boyfriend to his cousin's wedding, he needs someone to play the part. Lucky for him, Steve agrees, and the two might just get a little more than they anticipated out of it.

Together by tinystark616

Carol has rescued Tony from space, and now he has to confront his feelings for Steve while processing the trauma of losing the fight to Thanos. Tony realizes that the Steve that came back to him isn't the same Steve he used to know, but that he has changed as well.

Tomorrow Belongs To Me by valtyr

Steve wakes up in the 21st Century. He doesn't think much of it, and it's dubious about him. He meets a Norse God, joins a superhero team, and feels terribly awkward about the whole monument at Arlington he's rendered obsolete by not being dead. Meanwhile, Tony is trying to make his mark on history by being the man who finally drove Nick Fury over the edge.

Sleep Sisyphus (Guard your Star) by Diomedes

Howard says Stark men are made of iron and this is not one of his lies.

Iron is useful: it can be forged into weapons and bridges and keys alike. Iron is blood and magnets and the spinning core of the Earth. It is fool’s gold, it is armour. It is the heaviest element found in the heart of stars but much too heavy for a boy’s heart to carry.

Tony will never forgive his father this inheritance.

#stevetony weekly #stevetony fic #stevetony #stevetony fic recs #stony #stony fic #stony fic rec #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america

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kookaburra1701 · 9 months

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1, 8, and 12 for the Violence asks?

The same still goes - I LOVE TO HAVE MY MIND CHANGED! If anyone reads these and thinks of a counter example or a fic/bit of meta that will change my mind, let me have it.

the character everyone gets wrong OK, so this is going to be the one that gets me run out of town, chased by a mob of people with pitchforks, but I'm going to answer the custom follower Kaidan. I get why - he's a fluffy romance mod at heart, and while I have no idea whether he was made in response to the SR mod he is often held as the alternative to Bishop's rapey vibe, and thus ends up being mostly written as an endlessly nurturing, supportive love interest for the DB in fics. But Kaidan dealt with his pain by drowning it in alcohol and moon-sugar, and decided to become a bandit. Only to find out the group he joined weren't bandits they were a DAGON CULT. And it was only AFTER he stood by while the cult tortured and murdered an entire family that he had second thoughts about being a part of it. THEN when he escapes and goes back to Skyrim to sober up, he gets black-bagged and tortured for who knows how long. Dude's f'd in the head and obviously has some incredibly maladaptive coping mechanisms, is what I'm saying, and has some SERIOUS SHIT in his past that any good-to-neutral alignment love interest would have to come to terms with. I LOVE him for it, but it's not a side of him that I see explored much. It's what I'm aiming to explore in Wives of Shor, if I ever manage to finish the damn thing. And ALLLL of this is one of the reasons why I went so feral over @gilgamish 's fic, Tides to Carry Us Home when I came across it - the look at Kaidan through Felix's eyes (someone who is also very mixed up in the head) is DELICIOUS.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about Please allow me to paraphrase something I tend to see quite a bit. I'm not thinking of any one person, and honestly, mostly it's a take on r/skyrim lol:

"The Nords are prejudiced against Khajiit because they won't let the caravans in the city." Khajiit caravans aren't excluded from the cities because of racism, they're excluded because of a) protectionist economic practices and b) THE CARAVANS ARE DOING AND ENABLING SO MUCH CRIME OH MY GOD don't get me wrong I love them for the "poor us, the Nords are so mean" act they put on very successfully (at least it worked Ysolda) but Ri'saad literally came to Skyrim with a bunch of people in debt-bondage to be a war profiteer. It is totally justified that all of the jarls took one look at that whole situation and said, "OK we don't have enough guards to keep you out of the province as a whole, but you are NOT doing that shit in my city."

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

HEIMSKR. He has no chill. He has no fear. He has no orthodoxy (if you listen to his speech all the way through he says things that I'm very certain NONE of the other priests of Talos would endorse, like Talos being the head of the pantheon, or Alduin being sent by Talos to punish unbelievers.)

He just stands in the square, all day every day, and yells at the Gildergreen, which is Kyne's sacred tree. Combined with his insistence that Talos is the head of the pantheon (the place of Kyne in that Old Time Nord Religion) I feel like there's actually something going on there. And then if you side with the Imperials even being arrested doesn't stop him yelling about his crackpot theology. We stan a stan.

#kbs asks #asks to choose violence #kaidan 2 #tesblr #skyrim #heimskr

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suspicious-whumping-egg · 11 months

Text

Low Profile Part 18: Revealed

Series masterlist here. Major spoilers in this one, cannot be read as a stand-alone. Please start from the beginning if you aren’t familiar with the series. Enjoy!

A stranger stared back at Hale from the screen.

His hair was long, thick curls down to his shoulders. He wore makeup— gold, shimmering eyeshadow, eyeliner sharp as a blade, mascara that had run in tear trails down his bruised face. His arms folded in front of him were littered with dark, mottled track marks that peeked from the edges of his rolled-up shirtsleeves.

“If you’re watching this, future me, I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry. Uh, your name, if you’ve forgotten that too, is Hale Ellison. Or, it used to be. Maybe you’re better off with a new life altogether. I guess not, ‘cause then you wouldn’t be watching this. But you are.

And if you’re not me and you’re watching this, assume the worst has happened. And I’m only risking the worst ‘cause it’s gotta get out there. Someone has to stop them. I can feel it slipping away… I wrote it all down, before they can make me forget, it’s all on the drive— just get the code. I’ll remember it if it fucking kills me. Get it, even if you have to torture it out of me. Someone’s gotta make the killing stop.”

He took a long, shaking breath, wiping his face with his palm and leaving a smear of black behind.

On the other side of the screen, Hale watched mutely, eyes wide and stricken. Viper eased a warm mug into his hands, but he barely registered its existence.

“God. I don’t know where to begin. How much they’re gonna make me forget. But uh, I’ve gotta start somewhere. Wayford.

When I was around eleven, my father committed a mass murder of those who sought to uncover his secrets. The Ellison legacy is built on nothing but blood money, but anyone who dares mention it…” he shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute and feeling along the crook of his elbow as if to assure himself there was nothing there.

“Let’s just say, he doesn’t take kindly to any reminders. But yeah. The richest of the rich pay him for all sorts of shit. Got a political candidate that needs to be conveniently sick, injured, even dead? Want a personal supply of trafficked people at your doorstep to destroy one by one? Need a protest to turn into a bloodbath to prove a point? Human meat for a luxury banquet? Julian Tucker Ellison can get it done in a heartbeat,” he said bitterly, face twisting in disgust.

“The whole family was in on it, except for me. Decided I was too weak, too soft. But the things I’ve heard… I couldn’t let them go unnoticed. I’ve been collecting evidence since I was sixteen, recording top-secret meetings, uploading bank wires, decrypting files. Made it four years playing off every close call as innocent curiosity, and a fifth working with the mafia to stay better hidden. They like to blame them, anytime an incident goes a bit too public. Turns out the enemy of my enemy is the best asset I’ve got. Strategically invaluable, but don’t trust a thing they say. “

Hale’s gaze darted to Viper, then back to the screen, like he was waiting for him to turn it off. Slam the laptop shut before Hale learned too much. But Viper only gave him a solemn nod, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly, and let the video play on.

“You— I— dammit. I don’t even know where you’re at right now. Who you’re friends with. But currently, I’m closest with two of the mobsters working right under the queen bee. Silas Bevereaux, right hand man and the only person I’ve met who’s more ruthless than good ol’ Julian himself. Head medic as well, knows his way around any and every drug. He’s helped me counteract the effects of— of— of the shit they’ve been giving me. The doctors, if they can be called that, under my father’s instruction. For now at least, I still have the freedom to move around during the day. But at night, I’m theirs. They’ve tried keeping me under a cocktail of hallucinogens, hypnosis, amnestics— anything that’ll make me question reality. Destabilize me enough that no one will trust me even if I do spill the family secrets. Let me out during the day, completely batshit, so everyone knows I’m just the family freak. If not for Silas, it would’ve worked. He’s handy with a gun too, can take out a crowd of 100 in seconds with nothing but a glock. And he will. Beg him for help if you have to, but don’t trust him for a second.

And Viper. Insists he doesn’t have a last name. Where do I even start?”

Hale took a tentative sip of his chai, which had begun to grow cold. Guess it wasn’t important enough to the old me that we were lovers, he thought bitterly. Or maybe he’d had too much confidence in himself, that surely he’d never forget his own boyfriend. At the mention of his own name, Viper stiffened next to him. His jaw tensed, he pulled his knife out of his pocket and started toying with it on instinct.

“Can’t go back, love,” he muttered to Hale. “I warned you.”

The Hale on the screen sighed brokenly.

“We were friends. Brothers. Lovers, after that. He helped me through the side effects, the withdrawals, the beatings. Plotted revenge with me when I was hurting too much to move. And if you’re watching this, Viper, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Hale slammed the space bar of the laptop so hard that he was surprised it didn’t break.

“What the fuck are you?” He snapped to the stranger beside him, the mug slipping from his hands and shattering on the tiled floor.

“It’s a deepfake, isn’t it? Some sick jab to get back at Silas for being a half-decent human being? Well it’s not gonna fucking work.”

“We had an agreement, the two of us,” Viper said icily.

“You believed that if so much pain and pressure and despair could shock your mind into retreating inside itself, the same conditions would be required to bring it back. And maybe, just maybe, I’m fucking sick of you. He’d hate you. You’d hate yourself, if you knew any better.” His voice was laden with vitriol, eyes narrowed to slits.

“And Silas? He just thought torture doesn’t work, plain and simple. You said it yourself, even if you forgot. He’s ruthless.”

Hale shook his head.

“Someone who loved me wouldn’t fucking do this,” he retorted. “You faked it, then, didn’t you? Seduced me into giving you what you needed? Showed your true colors once they brainwashed me into oblivion?”

“I already said. I loved him, I hate you. ‘Cause you’re the reason he’s not here with me. Whatever they turned you into, it replaced the man I love. And I’ll do anything to you if it means getting him back.”

“We’re the same fucking person!” Hale cried. “Hurting me hurts the person you loved too, ‘cause we’re one and the fucking same! Get a grip!”

Viper seized Hale by the shoulders before he could utter another word, throwing him to the ground and landing a brutal kick to his chest.

“He’s locked up in there somewhere, and you’re not letting him out,” Viper hissed.

“This was never about the drive, was it?” Hale forced out, ribs throbbing. “This was about taking it all out on me that you weren’t fucking good enough to save me before they did this, wasn’t it? Pretending I’m a whole different person ‘cause then it means I can be your punching bag? You’re fucking sick.”

Viper just gave a sad smile, edged with smug, unmistakable victory.

“Oh, Hale. You don’t understand, do you? There is a drive, but it’s been hacked. We already have the code, the files, all the evidence we need about your family. The only thing we still need is you. The real you. Someone’s gotta be able to attest to the horrors of your family firsthand. Someone’s gotta put this all together, and you’re the only one who knows how. And… well, I’ll let you hear yourself say it.”

He reached up to the laptop again, not bothering to help Hale back onto the couch.

“Do whatever it takes to get us back. I swear I’ll come back to you, love. I’ll come back, no matter how long it takes. I won’t forget you.”

The Hale on the screen was earnest, soft, even reverent for the most fleeting of seconds. Amidst the trembling hands that no amount of chemicals managed to erase, the tears he choked back, the terrified glances over his shoulder.

“And future me, I’m sorry about all of this. Hope you remember it all soon enoguh so it’ll all just be a bad dream. I’ve told Viper to do whatever it takes to get me back, and I mean it. The memories, they’re already slipping away. I’m barely myself. And I’m not gonna let them win. I’m sorry, for what he’s gonna do to you. For what’s already been done. But you’re gonna remember, and you’re gonna understand. I swear it.”

Taglist: @morning-star-whump @whumpkitty @shameless-dumbass @hurtthemgently @gala1981 @avvail @d-cs @whumpedydump

#blue writes #low profile #hale ellison #viper #mafia whump

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captainfightingflower · 11 months

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Y’know what annoys me? Most Trivia Murder Party fans. If you feel like you belong in the most category and/or feel like you’re going to be attacked by reading this: please do not read further, this isn’t designed to be an attack on anyone, but i do not sugarcoat my feelings one bit ether. Now for the rest of you who are interested in reading out my very long vent about my distain for the fandom’s babification of TMP & TMP 2: click “Keep reading” instead. (But be warned: my words are venomous to the ill prepared.)

Now this isn’t talking about ALL of them: i mean for starters, i have no qualms with the majority of Russian Trivia Murder Party fans, since they actually stay quite true to the themes of the source material, i’m talking about the actual children who take this game that’s themed around horror and death and turn it into a children’s show!

Like the amount of poll vaulting these children do with their headcannons to remove everything that’s scary or even SLIGHTLY violent about the Trivia Murder Party series deserves an Olympic medal. There’s a joke about masturbating in a cemetery for Pete’s sake! The “not family friendly” tag is there for a reason.

I mean not only do they infantilize the host, turning them from a quirky individual who can be incredibly threatening when they want to be to just “uwu stabby stabby”, but they also somehow manage to infantilize the VICTIMS! Y’know, the voodoo dolls that are meant to represent you, the player behind the phone?

And i mean i have nothing against giving the victims a little personality, but like...god these guys treat The Jester like they are an actual infant! If i was shot everytime i saw a “Jeter likes cheese” post; it’d be a miracle if i was still alive! And why do you guys ship them with The Sheriff of all victims?!? I just don’t get that, never did and probably never will. Not to mention how much they downplay some victims like Lust, Pride, Gluttony or Despair, to the point where they don’t even resemble their sins anymore!

Now let me tell you about these headcannons. First of all: the whole “they get turned into the dolls” pisses me off SO MUCH! Every time i see this happen, it just RUINS my enjoyment then and there. The only reason why these kids even headcannon this is because acknowledging the fact that whenever a doll get’s shot, or stabbed, or thrown into a blender: there’s supposed to be a human that’s getting mystically mangled like the doll! And since any blood whatsoever is too scary for them to handle, they would rather turn people into dolls or completely remove the voodoo from voodoo doll. Because god forbit a piece of media run by a serial killer have blood!

And don’t get me started on the shit-show that is Schmitty X [REDACTED]. The amount of hurdles these babies jump to justify that this is a healthy relationship and not abusive stockholm syndrome is frankly disgusting. Now it’s one thing to base your ship entirely around the original Trivia Murder Party, where they are just friends and shipping them wouldn’t be problematic. And it’s another thing to ship them and make it an abusive one. But...god...god these kids are so insistent that ether

A. It’s all fake, and that the trauma Schmitty is going through is just coincidental (which i find to be a copout that does not make sense, especially if you add the fact that they believe YDKJ: FS’s ETS is fully real [which i’ve already made a post about my gripes with that]).

B. He forgave him after realizing that it was his friend who kidnapped and tortured him for actual years (which is much worse).

C. TMP Killer kidnapped him because they were attracted to him (which is not only significantly more worse, but also what the fuck are you implying with that).

Or D. All of the above (which does not make ANY sense and violently contradicts itself).

I don’t get why these kids want to back Schmitty up in a love corner with Cookie Masterson & the Trivia Murder Party killer, when cutting him out and shipping “Murderson” instead is infinitely better! (No i do not ship Cookie X [REDACTED], if you were wondering; i’m just pointing out the obvious).

I mean where’s the violence? The angst you guys love so much?! What’s stopping you from drawing gore of the series that’s just BEGGING for it?!?! It seriously reminds me of the Creepypasta fandom or the Five Night’s at Freddy’s fandom, but at least with those two: i can actually FIND gore and angst about it! I have 3.81 GB of JUST Trivia Murder Party content stored in my Fun & Games drive, and barely ANY of it has even the SLIGHEST bit of blood or the MODICUM of angst!

Honestly i just wish that these children would grow up and start making some content that’s actually true to the source material of the game they claim to love so much.

#tw: words lased with venom #vent #Jackbox games #the jackbox party pack 3 #trivia murder party #not for the faint of heart

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pearblossommina · 10 months

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ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, Day 10

So - it’s come, today’s the day, in reality, the read-a-long is finished!

(But I’m still just barely starting part two - Gods and Gates)

I have no intention to stop now

It’s a delayed read-a-long, but I’ll keep reading

Ch 68

Dorian bird - to Dorian mouse! He’s really getting the hang of this shapeshifting thing

HE BURIED THE WYRDKEYS IN SHALE ROCK Dorian, baby, I love you, but what the fuck. If you weren’t gonna bring them with you, why didn’t you just leave them with Manon and the others?!?

(What if you die - literally - what are you going to do if you die)

(I swear to god if you die I’m going to throw this book at the wall)

Oh no. Maeve is here.

Ch 69

I still think Darrow is a piece of shit, and it’s kind of amazing that he has so little respect for Aelin after all that she’s managed to accomplish. I think Lysandra didn’t do her any favors pulling the shapeshifter decoy game, but she has a point. The army, the whole armada, and all of these warriors, are here to serve Aelin, not some dusty old man from a random court in her kingdom. He better learn soon to start affording her some respect. What more can she possibly do to prove herself?

Ch 70

Oh god damn it. I love how Maeve and Erawan knew Dorian was hiding there the whole time and STILL decided to have their casual conversation and catch him up on the plot. Now he knows Aelin is safe and that Chaol is probably safe - and all about Maeve and her valg heritage.

But also, uh oh, he was found

(Shit)

(Okay)

(You better learn fire power real quick)

(Unleash flames and fuck this Valg queen up)

Ch 71

Um? Uhhh.

Of the two evils, I would definitely describe Maeve as the lesser, since she spent centuries just playing Fae Queen, compared to Erawan who actually wants to take over the world - it’s possible that she could be bargained with and allowed to stay in this realm. They both do want the same things - in a way - to shut the doors and bar all other valg from ever entering. I find it very interesting that Dorian is willing to ally with her. But I do think offering her an alliance through marriage is a bit much, Lmao. If anything I’d let her help with the key quest, wield them to seal off the Valg realm and send Erawan back, and then tell her to fuck off back to her own continent, never to darken their doorway again.

Dorian’s really interesting right now. He’s right here in the thick of it. I don’t want the scene to change to another character but I get the feeling it’s going to real quick here.

Ch 72

Yep, lol

Aw, but that scene between Gavriel and Chaol was so sweet. Maybe you can let him father your kid; too. Or he can be like, sort of a grandfather. Since your kid probably won’t get to know their own grandfather.

Did the Ironteeth witches leave because Manon summoned every witch to her legion? Or are they still here to make life worse for everyone?

I mean - they’re not HERE - so, hopefully they’re doing the cool thing and joining forces with Manon.

But the air is stagnant, and maybe something horrible is about to happen.

Ch 73

MAEVE. I want to believe that you are our friend, that you just came from a spooky, shitty planet and you truly do like this world and want to stay here. I want to believe that after Erawan is destroyed, you’ll behave yourself, and won’t try to bring about the end of life as we know it. But I don’t trust you? You kind of tortured the main character - viscously - and you psychologically tortured Rowan by making him believe that his first mate died pregnant with their child. Like, listen, I think people can come back from the dark side, but you’re pretty deep in it, Maeve. You have got a LOT to atone for, and if you think befriending Dorian is gonna make up for everything then you’re fucking wrong.

Ch 74

Gross

Super uncomfy.

Good thing Erawan didn’t want it

I hated watching her shapeshift into Aelin. how dare you use her likeness - after what you did to her! You disgust me, Maeve

Ch 75

(You guys got this)

(Don’t give up)

100,000 is a lot but you guys got this

Ch 76

“Not all Valg are evil.”

This is so bizarre. Is this really the same book where Maeve was torturing Aelin? Are we really gonna brush that off? In theory - I love this idea - a villain redemption - sure - I’m stupid and I love that trope - but what the actual heck?

In the same book?

In the same book with Aelin over here suffering lingering trauma and wishing for it all to be over? Wishing herself dead?

I’m not saying I don’t believe in the ability for a person to change

It’s just!

Maeve?

It is so sudden? And it is so jarring?

Ch 77

Shit

So do we trust her, or is she just as bad as we remember?

(Ugh I’m so tangled up inside)

(I felt like she was trying to open up, trying to be his friend)

(If she cares about spiders she can care for the other creatures of this earth)

(Maeve - we don’t use dark mind control magic on our friends)

(So if you’re really friends….)

(Stop)

(Let him go)

Ch 78

Wow

Hell yeah

Not bad, Dorian. Holy shit. You actually did it. You actually got away. With your life, and all three keys.

And you didn’t kill Maeve, even though she tried to double cross you

Wow

Hell yeah

#tog read along 2023 #kingdom of ash

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