#when a sunshine refuses all morals this is what happens

[effervescentdragon]

because I got complaints that I'm a coward about things from @blorbocedes in this and because my Mutti didn't raise a pussy (gn, affectionate), here have this bcs I can't stop thinking about it :

The lights of Abu Dhabi are bright, but not as bright as his smile. Nothing compares to the feeling of after a win, and he just won for the fifth time. Five WDC's for Number Five, Sebastian Vettel, he hears the broadcasters say. Five-time-World-Champion Sebastian Vettel.

He finally made it.

"Congratulations," Jenson says, and his smile is just wicked enough for Seb to notice, but not enoigh for the cameras to catch it. Sebastian knows Nico is in the paddock somewhere, and he knows he has an open invitation to join them. (What happens on race Sundays stays there, as it always did, and this is Abu Dhabi. It doesn't count, or that's what Nico always claimed. Jenson and Seb would only look at each other, and make him shut up for the night.) "Five-time World Champion! How does it feel?"

Like vindication, he could say. Like finally getting back something that was owed. Like the world is finally where it should be, aligned as it should have been a long time ago. Like justice, cosmic or carmic. Like it should be. Like it did the previous four times, only even better.

He smiles for the cameras, practiced and with ease. "Wonderful," he says instead. "Emotional, and amazing." Jenson smiles back, and when the cameras stop rolling, he leans in closer. "Find us for the celebrations?" Sebastian looks at him, as handsome as he always was, aging like a fine wine, even better with age. Sebastian knows how Jenson tastes, though; and he is more of a beer man himself.

"Perhaps," he replies, and Jenson lets him go with a final squeeze of his hand.

He goes through all the obligatory procedures; he hugs more people than he will ever remember, and this is familiar too. Like an old reflex, it comes back, the exhilliration, the congratulations, the old song and dance which he knows from years ago; which he never could, or would, forget.

He hugs Charles around the waist when he comes to congratulate him. "I'm not free tonight," Charles says into his ear. "I'll make it up to you in Monaco," he says with twinkling eyes, and Seb has no doubt that he will. He sees Carlos waiting around, pointedly not looking at them, and smirks. "Be good for him," Seb whispers back, patting Charles on the cheek, and sees a reflection of his own smile in Charles'. Good, he thinks. You're finally learning. You're learning to always care less for them than they do for you. Good. "I'm always good, but I want to be the best," Charles says with that clumsy wink of his, and when Sebastian laughs, it's, surprisingly enough, genuine. "Find someone to take care of you good tonight" are Charles' parting words, and Sebastian smirks, knowing that won't be an issue.

He shakes hands, accepts congratulations, and then finally, Mick comes to him. He's beautiful, sweaty and red from the race, his fireproofs soaked with sweat. His eyes are a bit wild, and he looks like it wasn't Seb who won, but like he did. Genuine, Sebastian thinks. Mick is so genuine, and then he doesn't have time to think anymore because Mick throws himself into Seb's embrace. "You were amazing, amazing, congratulations, Sebastian," he speaks into Seb's skin, like he can't help himself, more overcome with emotion than Sebastian himself is. He smells good, and he hugs Seb tight, and he is good, and Seb can feel his brain turning.

"Thank you, Mick," he replies, and Mick doesn't let go. Mick always takes whatever affection Seb gives him, always holds on for as long as Sebastian will allow it. He always makes sure to be conscious of when he should back off, and Seb does give pretty obvious signals for when they get too close. Why, a thought pushes through, unbidden. Why do you still keep him away, when he is so desperate for you? Why, when you know he would give you everything, and even more, if you just let him?

Michael's face comes up then, but it's not - it doesn't hurt like it used to. Michael isn't here, he thinks. Michael isn't here, and you just won a race and a championship, and you knew you were going to win, and Michael isn't here.

What morals are you playing at, Sebastian, he hears the voice he's long ago heard, but never forgotten. An echo from the past; from eleven years ago, spoken in harsh German, but not a harsh tone. What morals are you holding onto, and does it even matter, when it's already too late, when you're standing this close?

"Sebastian," a voice says, and it takes him a moment to parse it from the voice in his head. It's too similar, and for a moment, the voices coalesce. He cranes his head back and opens his eyes, and the eyes looking into him are just different enough to cement what he knew was going to be inevitable sooner or later.

"Yes, Mick, I'm here," he says, and Mick's eyelashes flutter. "I'll text you after the circus, we can celebrate?" He makes sure to let his fingers brush against Mick's throat, and he sees the way Mick's eyes widen and he feels how he swallows, right underneath his fingertips. Mick has a nice throat, and Sebastian wants to squeeze it suddenly, or maybe see how it looks when it's full. He has no doubt Mick would let him.

"Oh," Mick says. "I thought - your friends, Jenson is here, and - Charles," Mick says, and Sebastian supresses a smile, because Mick cannot hide the flash of jealousy in his expression, or everything he's just inadvertedly revealed to Sebastian. Keep that jealousy, Sebastian thinks, remember it for when you have to fight him on the same team. He doesn't think he would begrudge Mick the title in red as much as he would begrudge Charles.

(He thinks he may begrudge it even more. He thinks retribution to it may be even sweeter. He thinks that, if he threads carefully enough, he may get to find out if he's right.)

"No, actually, I do have to meet some people, but," he bites his lip; a calculated movement that pays off when Mick's gaze gets stuck on it, "I just want to spend time with you."

It's worth it, to see Mick come to an understanding; to see blush in his cheeks and incresulousness mixed with happiness and relief in his gaze. Sebastian keeps his emotions out of his face, and when Mick nods and whispers "Okay, just - text me, I'll wait," he rewards him with another hug, making sure to step even closer this time, fitting his body against Mick's fully.

When Mick steps away, he is flushed, and Sebastian thinks he is beautiful, and good, and endearingly charming. (He thinks he cannot wait to see in all which ways he can ruin him.) He nods, and Mick steps away, and with a final squeeze on Seb's forearm, he walks away.

Sebastian watches him go, the movements of his body decisive, and thinks about Michael for one final time. He thinks about what is due, and what is just, and what is inevitable. He thinks about how, by now, he's paid off all his debts, all the ones he had to repay at least; and as for the rest, well. Fuck it.

Sebastian has just won, and he deserves a prize.

#so this was on my mind for the whole day and night and i couldnt sleep till i got it out #imma publish it at some ungodly hour of the morning because thats the kind of person i am #bastard!seb #evil!seb #when a sunshine refuses all morals this is what happens #rbr seb take 2 #if youre looking for wholesome look away #yes this is about sebastian vettel #misa you better fucking love me #ambiguous relationships but lets say #sebchal #sebmick #kinda #f1 rpf #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites #i am cackling like a swamp witch

[igotanidea]

Dirty work: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: I am a firm believer that even in his post-patrol haze and surge of energy all Jason Todd needs from his beloved princess are hugs, not fucks and i will die on this hill.

***

The adrenaline was still fuzzing in his system, even after hours and hours of his night job in Gotham. It was stressful and hitting on all his sensitive spots hidden so deep under the surface. Muscles moving in the trained motion he practised milion times before, each instinct spurred on by imagination running wild.

Hurt, scared, innocent kids, left to tend to themselves on the streets.

Ordinary citizens exposed to the aftermath of whatever drama and destruction the mobs and gangs decided to wage that night.

Terror on the street on women who were working the night shift, trying to make a living, make ends meet.

And the same shit going on over and over again every fucking night, because fucking someone had a fucking moral code. Because fucking someone refused to put an end to something terrible, too afraid to stain his fucking soul.

Red Hood didn't have a soul to save anymore.

Not after everything that happened in his life.

Dirty wokrk, but someone had to do it.

One life taken, dozens of other's saved. Felt like constantly being at war and the heat of the fight made it so much easier to forget about the sacrifices made along the way.

Red Hood was strong, tough and ready to take on the hardest responsiblity of cleaning Gotham of scumbags and crimnals.

But after?

Once the first rays of a morning sun loomed on the horizon, Jason knew it was time to go home. Take off the mask. Became an ordinary man once more.

Hoping, wishing and praying she wouldn't kick him out again this time. That she would take him, despite the blood on his hands, the injuries on his body and deep scars on his soul.

Not a Red Hood anymore.

Jason Todd. Human. Man. Boyfiend.

The energy was still high when he climbed to the apartment and stood on the wooden floor, carefullly avoiding that one screetching floarboard, almost stepping on his toes to not wake her.

"Jason."

Years of vigilantism and dealing with shit.

Hightened instincts and senses.

And yet, Y'N's voice in the morning, in the empty, quiet apartment made him jump from surprise, causing her to giggle, causing the surprise to give way to a wave of warm feelings.

"Morning, sunshine."

"Depends. Did you bring me breakfast?" she teased

"Since when do you eat breakfast?"

"It doesn't matter if I do!" she got out of the bed, yawning widely, rubbing her eyes and stepping closer to him, taking his helmet off, mindful of the explosived installed there (biting her tongue to not say something about using a protection that was simultaniously life threatening) "You are supposed to preach me about not eating healthy and feeding me with the best groceries. Croissaints, fancy salads, low fat cheese. All that stuff!"

"Are you for real?" he frowned in confusion upon her words. What was going on here?

"Nah, I'm joking cause I can tell that under all this pose you're tired. Though maybe a bit of laugh would do you good. Even if it;s at my expense" she smiled cupping his cheek and meeting his eyes "What do you need? hugs, kisses, cuddles? Or somehing more intense?" that was an obvious hint she was willing to help if he needed some action to blow off some steam.

"Can you just be with me? I just need your presence next to me. Knowing this is all real and I won't wake up alone again." hearing those words coming from Jason was the biggest leap of faith. He was not the one to admit to feeling tired or that something was weighting on his conscience once out of the mask. Never in the million years. But with her - it was simpler, easier, knowing she would just listen and observe rather than fill the silence with silly questions and talking and preaching and lamenting about his behaviour.

"I'm here. I promise, it's all real. You're not alone." She nodded calmly.

Jason produced the tiniest smile and let her guide him to the warm bed with the soft sheets smelling like her, with her arms wrapped around him like a soft cocoon.

And it was just fine.

No need to talk or to explain or to fight anymore.

Getting rid of this feeling that nothing made sense, his efforts were futile and no one would ever understand him.

Finally, a little bit of peace and maybe - just maybe - the tiniest amount of happiness brought by the steady beating of her heart in his ear and the gentle movement of her fingers in his hair.

True meaning of intimacy between two people.

Bonding for life.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

[babushkatty]

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6

-> Part 1

-> Part 5

With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.

But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.

You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.

Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.

"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.

Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!

You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.

Crepus was horrible for your heart.

Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.

This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).

You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.

Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.

Probably the trauma speaking.

Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.

Today, I don my very own Windblume.

I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The winds are particularly harsh today.

I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.

Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...

Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are growing restless.

Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.

It remind me of a newborn puppy.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are planning a rebellion.

I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.

Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.

It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.

It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.

Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?

Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.

I met Ragnvindr today.

Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.

"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.

It helped.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.

I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.

I admire their bravery.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.

King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.

In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.

The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.

I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

My little spirit friend is still without a name.

I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.

A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.

But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.

Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.

It is hard to name them.

I've thought of many names up until now.

Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.

Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.

None fit.

I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

That was the last entry.

You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.

It really wasn't.

Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.

But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?

I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.

✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨

The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?

If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!

I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨

✨Taglist✨

@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

[viveela]

I'm not rlly hating on Style or your opinion, just like cuz Stan isn't good in a relationship(seen with Stendy), and Stan and Kyle appear to have a 'good' friend relationship, so what makes you think that Stan wouldn't treat Kyle the same if they were dating?/gen

That’s a good question. Why would Stan be any different in a relationship with Kyle? How do I know it wouldn’t be a rinse and repeat? Well, looking at their dynamic in the overall show is a big part in getting the answer to why it would be different.

There’s a lot of uniqueness in their friendship especially when it comes to what Stan does. Stan used to seek out Kyle when he’s emotional, seeing him as someone to go to. He didn't and still doesn’t really do that with anyone else. He’s also readily willing to sacrifice for Kyle, doing everything he can for him whether it be him almost dying or because he felt insecure about his looks due to a tier list. He would value Kyle’s word a lot too, often going along with what he says because of this. Stan doesn’t really do any of this with anyone else, further highlighting their dynamic as something that stands out.

When you compare this to the relationship that Stan has with Wendy, it’s notable the care and effort Stan puts in isn’t nearly on the same level. (Even more when you think about the chat gpt episode). So with all this in mind, logically it would make sense that if he was placed in a relationship with Kyle, it would probably go better.

Honestly, though, despite all this I don’t think that’s exactly the case either though. I can explain why (but it's gonna be very long and a deep dive into style's dynamic):

Hot take, but I think when it comes to Stan being in a relationship, I see it always starting off rough no matter the person involved with him due to his mental health. The obvious reasoning is his depression that's untreated, but I believe there's even more to it than this.

I mentioned this briefly, but I see Stan as a very accidentally bpd (borderline personality disorder) coded character. A lot of the behaviors that he exhibits with Kyle feel reminiscent of how one would act with their favorite person. This is most seen with how he acts when he loses Kyle, he goes through an extremely rough withdrawal period. Stan also gets sensitive easily, possessive, can switch emotions quickly, behave irrationally, prone to addictive substances, makes impulsive choices, and tried to shove Kyle out of his life before he could when his depression got severe, etc. It would explain the way he acts out whenever anything concerning Kyle happens.

Then, stay with me, Kyle strikes me as very npd (narcissistic personality disorder) coded, albeit, again, by accident. Despite Stan being his most important relationship and someone he cares for, he constantly dismisses his feelings, pokes fun at him, and tends to try manipulating him into backing him up in strange circumstances even when he's not in the right. Then look at his other consistent traits like his need for attention and adoration, strong refusal to accept when he's wrong, fearing being ostracized/abandoned, thinking himself morally superior at all times, and behaves manipulative often, etc. I feel like these traits get overlooked a lot because he's framed as the good/right one by the show, but when you really think about it, it feels like a strange line up for him until that coding is considered.

I’m no professional, but I’ve looked into this a good amount and know people with these things and it feels like it aligns pretty well the more you look into it. I won’t ramble on explaining this further, but I could if asked. It’s really interesting to think about. 

So if they got together um...it's gonna be complicated, especially with an fp involved. These kind of pairs in relationships are notorious for going bad, terrible even. The start is always sunshine and rainbows though...but then it sort of explodes. But I mean, their friendship has kinda already gone bad in modern day. Their actions with each other have left wounds. They don't seem as cheery with each other as they once were nor do they even talk much, but they do still go to each other. Even when looking at early seasons, they kept going through ‘break up’ arcs due to setting each other off. Yet they come back to each other still each time.

So my point is…yes it would be different, Stan would behave different for sure. Would it be better? Not for a long time, in fact it’d be worse for a while. Here’s the thing though, I think that’s not necessarily what matters. I think what really matters is whether it stays rough or if they manage to break out of it. I think style can and will manage to get better. Especially if Kyle gets a psychology degree, awareness goes a long way.

And as I was saying, they have this inner want to go back to each other no matter what happens. They’re only truly happiest when together and we see a clear example of this with the two pc timelines. But we also see how complicated this can be for them within the same specials. This is why I like them. They’re complicated and messy, but really do care for each other a lot and at the end of the day prefer to try mending their bond then leaving it to die out. They just need more support and communication with each other.

#veespeaks #anon ask #south park #stan x kyle #style retrospective/analysis #bpd/npd discussion #this got way too srs for this ask lol but lowkey wanted an excuse to talk about this haha #anyway tldr: technically it wouldn't be different in the sense its still a rocky relationship #but the difference is i dont think they'd stay that way forever

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

something i love about your aus is how (almost) every character has a bad ending/fate for them

alt mark, alt thatcher, alt jonah, and alt cesar are doomed to an eternity of suffering. cesars mom was crucified, sarah got a chunk of concrete slammed into the back of her head, seth is all alone after finally getting close to people he considered his family.

prophet adam lives with crippling anxiety that the parasite will decide to come out and kill everyone he cares about, just like it did to jonah. thatcher's parasite breaks his bones, practically mangling him every time it comes out. evelin lost herself(?), becoming one with her parasite.

im not educated about the lab rats au so ill avoid commenting on it

guest mark is part of a house he hates, nobody listened when he said something was up with it, not even his own best friend. cesar is stuck all alone in the reflection of a mirror. guest jonah cant move at all, completely stuck in a wall. guest adam can move, but he cant ever leave.

spirit cesar literally got erased from existence by his best friend. shadow mark has to live with the guilt of that.

the characters lives get absolutely wrecked in ways that could never happen in reality but you write their reactions so realistically that it feels natural. their pain and grief and trauma are so realistic that its easy to have sympathy for them, even alt mark. alt mark is an absolute asshole but i think anyone would be if given his fate.

you can see how the characters got in the messes they did. its easy to be like "oh, theyre so dumb, i would never get myself in a mess like that" but you write the characters so realistically that it doesnt feel like a silly horror movie.

something that really stuck with me is the part in the alt au prologue fic where mark runs upstairs and quickly realizes he made a mistake just like so many characters in horror movies did. that detail made it feel so much more real.

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOUUU I LOVE THIS ANALYSIS /GEN

AND YEAH. I want to make it clear that. these characters are. well. human. at least in how they act and react. No one is perfect, with even the most moral and understanding characters having flaws that can lead to bad things happening, or simply being doomed to begin with. Even the villains have motive, and aren't your typical cocky, one note evil bad guys who just want pain on people for no reason.

These characters get bad endings not because of who they are or just for fun. but because in that scenario. A good ending would be. bittersweet at best. And the most likely scenario, taking into consideration the characters and how they act can be. bad.

For example, the alt au has that ending because of the fact that Mark refuses to let go of the past. the bad ending is his fault, and not because he's a one note villain but because he's just. unable to come to terms with what he is and the circumstances of his "death."

The MP Au gets that ending due to Adam's lust for knowledge he shouldn't have, and he is suffering the consequences for it. Not only he drags himself into damnation, but everyone around him as well. All because he was too focused on his own goals to care about those around him.

The HSH au ends up there due to cruel circumstances. Home used Mark and Cesar's poor friendship to its advantage to make them drift apart, feeding off of their negative feelings towards each other. Were either of them in the wrong? no. but neither of them were in the right either.

The only au I can say has a pretty good ending is the lab au, where the patients eventually escape. but. it's not all sunshine and rainbows cause. the damage had already been done. they can't magically reverse the mutations or mental fuckery they've gone under. They're like that for the rest of their lives, but. they're free. Bittersweet, really.

But yeah, the point is. the MAIN goal with these characters is to be. realistic. No one has magic plot armor where no harm can be done to them, no one is the perfect person who can easily be framed as the hero, no one is necessarily absolute pure evil as they have their own motivations and in some cases believe what they're doing is right. They're people. And their actions lead to scenarios that sometimes lead to horrible endings. It all depends really.

#asks are neat #tmc alternate au #mandela prophet #tmc labrats au #tmc home sweet home au #ahem. whoopsies!! sorry for uh. rambling for a bit. #But YEAHHH I. legit love more analytical comments on my stuff its so cool. #You put it really well. #I also just love. messing with these characters and making it clear that. no ones perfect. #Even the best person in these stories has flaws. #Cause. come on. a protagonist without flaws is just. a piece of white bread. dull. basic. and not worth raving about.

[alfredsolos]

Look, I love the concept of Damian and Jon being in a relationship. I think they would be pretty cute together. But I don't think this ship can work in DC canon. Let me explain.

If you think about it, the ship looks like it can work. Y'know; the classic grumpy x sunshine, opposites attract and stuff. But Damian and Jon are more complex than that.

Yes, Jon is a sunshine boy. But not like you think. He isn't a pacifist, he doesn't try to find a middle space to avoid conflict. He isn't scared of making his decisions known. He has strong morals and even a stronger sense of duty. He has priorities that he isn't willing to make an exception from.

Jon, in canon, is stubborn and isn't willing to bow down to anyone. Especially Damian. He gets mad at him, call him a jerk, an asshole. Which doesn't mean he hates Damian. On the contrary, it means he cares for him enough to teach him the 'right way'. Now let's take a look at Damian.

Damian is stubborn, arrogant, prideful, and overall has a dominant personality. He is also caring, emotional, insecure, loyal and sad. He has been continuesly traumatised by both of his parents, forced to prove himself and hated (killed) when he couldn't live up to their expectations. He is too tired to interact with other people, and too unwilling to make an effort about it.

When him and Jon first went out as Superboys, Damian didn't think of him as a friend. Maybe more of a sidekick. So he ordered him around, because he was more experienced in the field and leadership duties.

To Jon, Superboys were for hanging out and having fun. Yes he still wanted to save people, but he also learned to enjoy it. That's why they fight and argued all the time.

Now, let's say Jon and Damian was the same age and still went to school together. Think of the scenario that they started a romantic relationship. Both of them are inexperienced, but Jon is more aware of this kind of stuff due to movies and books. Damian on the other hand probably wouldn't know what to do and act as if nothing between them changed.

Jon would try going out on dates, but Damian would refuse and try to go on missions whenever both are together. We all know Damian isn't good with physical contact, so the intimacy would put him off a little or just straight up overwhelm him. Since Damian's attitude towards Jon wouldn't change, they'd still fight and argue. But unlike the times where they were best friends, they wouldn't make up quickly and feel awkward around each other.

Nothing that'd happen would be Damian or Jon's fault. Because Jon is, relatively, more normal compared to Damian about this kind of stuff. Jon's parents love each other and almost never argue. While Damian's mom ocassionally tries to kill him or hurt his father. His parents, as I've mentioned, are also abusive towards him. He doesn't know how to properly love. His innocence was taken away from him when he was barely a child.

So Jon and Damian would be better off in relationships, which their partners are more similar to them.

For Jon, his partner would probably be a normal person from school that he likes the personality and looks of. That person would be kind to other people, and they would be excited for their date and obsess over their first kiss. Romantic gestures would make them blush and smile like an idiot. They'd be more emotionally available.

For Damian, his partner would be from a similar background like his. Maybe an assassin or runaway. Just like Damian, they'd be cold and defensive at first. They wouldn't want to interact with people of fear from being caught or killed. They'd be scarred or maybe even a bit crazy. Killing would be a daily occurence to them. And neither of their life would put the other off. They'd accept each other with their worst of flaws.

That's why I think Jay Nakamura and Flatline were good matches for them. Because 'opposites attract' doesn't really work in DC fiction. The characters have way more depth than that.

Maybe in an alternate universe, where there were no such things as super heroes or villains, they'd work together. But not this universe.

#damian wayne #dc comics #batfamily #batfam #jon kent #damian wayne headcanons #damian wayne headcanon #jonathan kent #jon kent headcanons #jay nakamura #dc flatline

[oceanslament]

The reason Dreamling is so popular is that many people don't consume gen content, fem!reader/fem!OC fics/self-inserts (which are flooding the tags too), or even m/f ships, which can be too heteronormative or icky for various reasons. That doesn't leave a lot of options, and characters MUST have chemistry on screen to be shippable. For me at least, it's impossible to ship Dream with 1) his family (and he's related to a ton of characters here, including all his creations, his Endless siblings, Rose, and Unity) and 2) anyone over whom he has absolute power (this includes Lucienne). F/f content tends to be sparse in most fandoms, sadly. Lucienne/Gault have potential but barely interact. Constantine/Lucifer could be amazing but there is no interaction whatsoever. Anyway, it makes sense that Hob is most popular. People are acting like it's the fandom singlehandedly making Dreamling happen when it's very obviously ship bait put into the show. And basically every single person I've seen complaining about its popularity refuses to make content for their rare pair. I know it's hard to write for these because of the relative lack of engagement, but I've been there plenty of times myself with rare pairs and know that whining about the popular ship does nothing. Anyway, just my two cents.

I really do agree with your points on general shipping in terms of Sandman, but also shipping isn’t a necessary lens for a piece of media? I actually did put in tags of the original post (mostly to avoid it being too long), but I do find the Dreamling ship pretty enjoyable as the two have some narrative ideals that counter each other and who doesn’t love two longing immortals

But my main complaint in the post was how constant and overwhelming the amount of content floods the tag. Theres so much to Sandman and so many interesting dynamics and themes that seeing the same thing again and again gets tiring.

Death of the Endless is an interesting character and her part of the episode was a compelling ideal of hope and the beauty of life. Her sibling dynamic with Dream and being only one to consistently call him out is a delight, so it’s a little saddening to see her get boiled down as a matchmaker for the Dreamling ship. (Of course Death of the Endless is a super popular character and has posts outside of that, but I’ve seen a good number now treating her that way, I wouldn’t even mind if they were Hob-centric posts talking about her visiting Hob just to do normal human things with him on one of her “day off” [i kind of want to write that now] or something, but it seems to boil down to her “connecting” Hob and Morpheus)

The shipping also starts to do a disservice to both characters too at some points. Especially Hob! He’s such a morally weird character yet people treat him as a sunshine, can do no wrong kind of character. Hob’s done some pretty messed up things in his lifetime (not even counting what he’s done in the comics, even the show his record is far from clean). He doesn’t believe in a persons ability to change, despite being surrounded by constant change, which is a direct counter to Morpheus who is finally learning to change yet can only change so much because of who he inheritly is (you know what id read a fic on that the challenging ideals of change and even bringing in Sandman’s narrative of “change or die” oof). Even the ending of the comic in terms of Hob gets muddled by the ship with many people (who haven’t read it beyond the main spoiler) being like “oh but would he want to live still” YES! He gets asked at that point of the comic and decides he does want to live because there is still so much more to see (of course when the time comes for that in the show he can change his mind. Things have been changed and choices making different paths. But Hob always wanted to live for himself and the experience). Of course characters can be write however the poster wants and they can change whatever, but it’s always so similar fanon it looses some of the nuances intertwined with the canon.

There’s barley posts for characters like Rose Walker despite her being a pretty important character to the entire second half of the show. Corinthian I do see fairly more even getting to just be having fun in comics with Dream (platonically). Heck even Lucifer and Johanna only get brought up so often! (Also in terms of shipping Lucifer has multiple characters to be with, Johanna like you mentioned, they’ve slept with John Constantine in one of his comics, Mazikeen (I believe they do get together in the spin off comic), heck if we want to count that Netflix show as the same universe they get Chloe). Daniel Hall hasn’t appeared yet and even he got a mini explosion of activity in his tag connecting to Hob! (Again another character that has so many interesting things going for him)

But all of Sandman is so interesting that only using a ship to explore the world is kind of boring at this point. Imagine silly comics or fics of Mervyn, Lucianne, and Matthew holding a gossip sessions about the going ons of the Dreaming. Or Morpheus visiting Cain and Abel to see Goldie. Desire visiting their great grandkids. Or even more random dynamics and weird ideas! I know there’s the notion of creating the content you want to see, but if people just care about shipping anyone would eventually lose the motivation, no matter how much love they hold for the content. I guess it is complaining and the content is great, it’s more just so much when it feels like there could be so much more variety.

(Also anon not sure if you’ll see this but if you want a good wlw relationship canon to Sandman and haven’t read any comics I’d recommend checking out Hazel and Foxglove they get focus in both of the Death spin offs after their appearances in the main comic)

#the sandman #sandman #🌊🌙✨random thoughts

[rreskk]

Before the storm

CHAPTER 7: Luring him in. 

Summary: You experienced his five stages of grief... One of them being lust. 

TW: Smut

‘Chapter 6′--> HERE ‘Hate to love, love to hate’--> HERE

As expected, you woke up before him. You’d understand as Trevor snorted God knows how much cocaine before asking to sleep in the same bed. Turns out, he’s a deep sleeper as well. He’s lights out, even when the curtains are open and the beaming sunshine is devouring your duvet completely. The sun eliminated his sleepy face, his eyes dreamfully closed and mouth tipped slightly open. He looked peaceful; something you wished he looked more often.

You sighed and refused to admire his appearance anymore.

You were slumped on the edge of your bed, staring down at your hands in self-abhor. Bidding your heart that you’ll get over him, the true feelings locked away is opposing; threating, and deceiving your smothered emotions. There was a mental battle between fight and flight over this one man… This… This one man!- Who’s turned up out of nowhere. This guy you met and found zero interest in. Now he’s the resort to all your internal pressures. If only the other guys knew how the night went for you. You’d wish Lester was more sensitive but you easily recognised his concerns, the same with Brad… Even Michael. Whatever happened between him and Trevor, you need to know. You need to know every single detail of this dirtbag who’s sleeping away his hangover in your bedsheets. The audacity he has to play around with you like a puppet. Even if he’s innocent with his words, you despise how attached you are to him.

“Mhmm, what am I going to do about you?” You muttered under your breath while observing the sunny gaze upon his slightly tanned skin.

That made you think. You’ve noticed the tilt to his skin, even though North Yankton is possibly one of the coldest states in America. If it was his natural skin colour… You wouldn’t have a scientific explanation for it. Despite his life-style, his skin was so healthy looking; brown, smooth, soft, and delicate. His face was beautifully cared for as well. Would he have a skin-care routine? Absolutely not. From your judgements, he doesn’t even wash his skin… Yet it was flawless. You rolled your eyes and called it luck. The bitterness in your thoughts filtering the moral compass you followed. Maybe you were too harsh on him… Why were you?

You sighed. It would be best to ponder these questions when he isn’t sleeping in your own bed.

The surface moved and you whipped your head round. Trevor was barely sitting up. He was rubbing both eyes while his back was stabilised by the wall. You disturbed the peace.

“Morning, Trevor.”

He took some time to adjust throughout the natural lighting of the room and grumbled, “Hey.”

Trevor was sour looking. He sat there for a few minutes cringing to himself. You’d expect it to be the hangover.

“Headache?”

He nodded.

“Want some painkillers?” You asked again.

Trevor sighed, “A few.”

You went to retreat them when he reached forward.

“Wait.”

You turned back and he was looking at you with clear eyes.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“It’s alright,” You smiled.

“No, I mean like… Urh, I hate myself.” He moped in his hands.

Unchallenged by his ‘morning after’ reaction, you stood there in solitude. Trevor’s hands travelling from his cheeks to hair, ripping out the locks as he squeezed his eyes shut; obviously harming himself on purpose. You quickly untangled the knots from his fingers and restricted him from further pain.

“Hey,” You softly spoke, “It’s alright. Come on, come here…” You offered your vacant arms and he bluntly fell into them. His nostrils inhaled your scent before he began bawling his eyes out. You held him close.

“I-I hate myself!” The broken man continued.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Having experience with breakdowns before, you were professional in your knowledge. You cradled his shaky figure and rubbed his back in slow circles, whispering affirmations in his ear.

“I try and be a nice person but I can’t help the temptations!” Trevor wailed. He sniffed sharply, “I try my best, I-I really do!”

“I know Trevor, I know-”

“But even Mikey or Bradley don’t care about me! I go outta my way for them… Sometimes I make a scene b-but I can’t help it. I wish I can stop it. I wish I-I can just fuckin’ stop!”

You heard heartbreak spill from his drooly mouth. Without being honest, you were distraught by his confession. You remained quiet as you tried to process his words. Trevor’s unhappiness determined your own. Suddenly, you couldn’t fight back your tears. As they trembled down your cheek; Trevor’s cries dampened your already damp shirt, gaining no use of it no more.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

You croaked out, “Trevor, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

He lifted his head up to face you. The way his eyes sorrowfully narrowed when seeing your unwellness. Trevor held out his hands and began wiping away your tears. He completely ignored his own.

“Trevor…”

“I am sorry,” He whispered.

“Trevor, it’s okay.” You painfully smile.

The man’s lips quivered. He folded himself back into your arms and hugged you. You faced a number of reasons to shame yourself at this moment. How moments ago you were judging him spitefully as he slept… Now you were cuddling this man like your life depended on it. If he would of known your thoughts, may God have Mercy on your soul… You’d be seen as evil, a dark witch, a soulless creature! Trevor would be betrayed and appalled; adding to the list as the days would pass from the second you met him.

“I’m such an ass… I hate myself, I hate myself, I HATE MYSELF!”

“Trevor,” You insisted, “Shh… It’s okay, I’m here.”

He nodded while shaking under your touch.

“Will you be here for me? All the time? Will you ever leave me?” The depth to his questions made you shudder. His attachment worsens whenever you’d bond, and you knew this… You couldn’t stop it though.

“As long as you want me to, I’ll be here.”

It felt like you were promising yourself to the Devil. Trevor’s chin rested against your chest, pleading you with the eyes of a broken soul. The uncertainty behind his dangerous mask lifted your hopes that maybe… Maybe Trevor is worthwhile. You couldn’t pinpoint the change of heart but the closer you got to his lips, the more you felt at home. When you kissed him, the tensity of his body flustered and disappeared. Suddenly you felt him adjust from under your arms. While you enclosed your mouths again, moaning throughout the kiss, Trevor held a steady hand behind your head and gently leaned you down. You sunk into the white sheets until you broke away. Now you could see.

Trevor was hovering over you, mouth red from your hungry touch. He was looking between your eyes, wonder fulfilling his mind. You didn’t have a rational thought behind it… You lost all character and yanked him down, planting soft pecks upon his damp cheek and jaw. He muffled a moan through the affections.

“If we do this,” He whispered, “Are you going to runaway after?”

The sincerity behind his inquiry hooked your attention. You lied there as the sunshine burnt the skin upon your arms and neck. You gave him a ready look, a smile of charm and mercy. He sniffled a grin back.

“Every time I try and run away from you, Trevor. I always come back.”

“I know.”

“Why worry?” You ask.

“What if you don’t come back?”

Frail as a child can be, Trevor wanted an answer and you provided something more promising. You trailed sly nibbles down his neck, crossing the Adams-apple that daunted you from the beginning. He trembled.

“[Y/n],” He breathed, “What if you don’t…”

“I know you now. I can see you, Trevor. The last thing I’d do is run.”

“Are you sure?”

You held his face, “I’m positive.”

It was so strange being honest with your feelings but you had to. The guy is in your bed. He slept in your bed. He’s kissed you. You’ve seen him cry. You’ve seen him sob. You’ve seen him smile. Like it helped, seeing him so open with himself made you more attracted to him. When you’ve first met Trevor, you saw him as a stuck-up nicotine addict hilly billy. Although he partially is, he’s so much more. He’s managed to change your perception of him.

Trevor’s moustache twitched as he smiled. He leaned his head down and kissed you once more. It began so delicate and sweet. When you both figured it wasn’t enough, it began getting sloppy and heated. Trevor began groping you. His hands squeezing your stomach, your thighs, your ass. He was selfish with his touches. You grown accustomed to it, and liked it.

“Trevor,” You inhaled.

He was abusing your collarbone with his lips and mumbled something under the lines of ‘What’. You arched your back as he went lower.

“Mhm, fuck-“

He approached the top of your breasts. He signalled for your consent, exchanging a blushed face. You nodded and sat up. Trevor helped you take off your shirt and sucked in his lips when you unclipped your bra. He gulped.

“You are so beautiful, so fuckin’… Perfect.”

One hand pushed against the mattress, the other holding your naked back. He scambled to your breasts and began praising them with his unholy activity. He sucked on your nipple, kissing your skin, licking between them. He had loved them in every way and you watched him intently. Soft moans escaped your lips throughout. It felt too good.

“Trevor, your shirt.”

He looked.

“Take it off.”

The demand was real and effective. He gave you a nod before ripping off the white T-shirt he wore. As it was threw across the floor, you observed his chest. He was hairy, perfectly hairy. You may see the ribs from his skinniness but he was tanned, goldenly tanned. The tone of his body was perfection. The hair that hiked from his belly button to his crotch, you licked your lips.

“Am I to your standard, ma’am?” He whispered.

Standard.

You coughed out a laugh before enchanting him with your kisses again. Trevor cooly grinned and returned his hands to your body. He felt all over until he hovered between your thighs. You noticed his hesitation.

“I’m ready.” You affirmed.

Trevor’s fingers hooked on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down your thigh as he unravelled the sight of your wetness. He whinged like a boy.

“Ohh, you are so beautiful. I-“ He stopped and bent down; his breathing hitched and eyes watering with strain. Trevor’s ghostly tongue slivered across your inner thigh until it reached to your sex. He kissed it and you gasped for air.

“Fuck…”

He chuckled, the impact of heat destroying you.

“Stop fuckin’ teasing, Trevor.” You groaned.

“Yes, ma’am.” Trevor whispered and crawled over to your face, “I won’t keep you waiting…”

You stared into his eyes before hearing his belt clinch and rattle. It’s finally happening. You peered down and you forgot how to breathe. Trevor’s underwear was dangling around his knees, his full erection facing you with uneasy temptation. He panted as the fresh air cradled his cock.

“You ready, sugar?” He smirked.

You nodded eagerly and opened your legs. He positioned himself, giving you one last kiss before thrusting into you. It happened. When he broke through, you both animalistically moaned. Being stripped naked, almost sweating, minutes after watching each other cry; you were being fucked by him. And what do you think about it…?

You love it.

“Mhm, yes!” You praised Trevor as he crashed his hips against yours, looking up to see your reaction like he’s trying to make you proud. The senseless tongue hung out of his moist mouth. He was preaching upon your body like a wild dog, nibbling, teasing, licking every inch of your skin.

You’d claw at his back when he grew in pace. The bed beneath you both shook and ruffled against the wall. Luckily you had no neighbours… As if that would of stopped him anyway. Kissing him has become a ridiculed crime. Resting your foreheads together- you revised Lester’s insensitive statements and felt anger rise. Reddening in the face due to the mistreatment Trevor received yesterday, you smothered your hands against his neck and wished time would pause so you could devour the feeling of this pleasure. He growled surreally when you attempted to choke him. He brought his hips forward again, this time playing rough. The thrusts were so eager and harsh that you whole body would slam against the mattress.

“FUCK!” You cry.

“I wanted to- FUCK, Baby… Oh my God,” He whimpered; losing his grip on domination, “I fuckin’ love you!”

He needs, he wants, he desires. His mental capacity cannot handle the sexual drive he’s experiencing. Trevor’s glassy eyes upturned towards your face of ecstasy. He choked.

“I-I’m gonna cum.”

Your whole body was glimpsing with sweat. Trevor trembled forward, pulling out just in time for his cock to cum all over your stomach. As the hot fluids painted your chest, his eyes were squeezed shut, screaming poetic terms.

“Fuucckkk! I can see the void!”

Trevor had a voice crack in between. The weakness of how he fails to comply and hold in his orgasm, you were impressed. You took a mental note; deciding to play around with his issue… In the future. However, presently, you were growing impatient.

You whinged, “Baby, I’m almost close,” Hoping he wouldn’t collapse.

Trevor was struggling to breathe but nodded at your obey. He crawled down to your clit and pushed in two of his lanky fingers. He teasingly changes the speed as he’d finger you, smirking when you’d cry out his name. Your arms dangled around his shoulders, finding something to squeeze whenever it got too heated. You were soon detached when Trevor was based between your legs, talking dirty to your pussy until the moment you’d cum.

“TREVOR-“ You wailed.

His fingers were coated with it. His droopy eyes caught yours. You analysed how he brought the fingers to his mouth, licking away your fluids, just how you’d expect him to lick a lolly pop.

“You taste so good,” He remarked; gradually smiling.

Recovering from the sacred journey of loving each other, you chuckled silently and sighed when your legs managed to relax after shaking through your climax. Trevor massaged your thighs when noticing the beaten sigh. Something about his caring nature intertwined with your crush on him. He was naked, length dangling between his thighs. You were lying there in front of him, his cum still running around on your stomach; yet he focusses on your health and wellbeing.

“Was it good enough for you?” Trevor smirked.

You were mute, nodding your head.

He winked, “Mhm, you look beautiful. Always have,” He reached forward and moved a single strand of hair away from your face, “You were so good. So fuckin’ hot.”

“Trevor,” You complained with a smile on your face.

“You can’t deny it!”

“Just come back to bed, please? I need to clean my chest thou-”

Trevor perked up at your suggestion. He interrupted almost immediately.

“No, we shall cuddle. I don’t care that you still have my cum on you. It’s sexy.”

Knowing there was no point in cleaning as your bed was already mangled by your sweat and tears combined, you gave up. Motioning to the space beside you, Trevor dived into it within a second. His erratic energy back to normal.

“I am loving this morning so far, sugar.” He said with pure admiration.

You smiled, “I’m glad we made it up from last night.”

Mentioning last night did hit a nerve as he’d cringe. You held his hand carefully to encourage how time has moved on.  

“Yeah. Shit, the guys. I bet they are running my phone.” Trevor muttered.

“You have plans with them today?”

“Yeah, like… In an hour or so. What time is it?”

You checked the alarm clock beside you. It was 11am. Trevor could see from afar and grumbled.

“In a few hours.”

You settled back into the sheets, “You still have time to cuddle.”

“I want more time to cuddle.” Trevor pouted.

“Be grateful that you have time.”

He mimicked your lecture before laughing. You just rolled your eyes.

“Nahh, I’m kiddin’. You’re right. We have more than enough time to sit back and relax.” His voice trailing off.

Having no schedule for this day, you were comfortable enough lounging around. Trevor would be explaining his current understanding of the heist he’s planning with the guys. He was so passionate and excited about it, all this talk on ‘cash prize’ and ‘loaded stacks’ that you held in a giggle. This is the same guy who cried to you, fucked you, now talking about his estimation of the money he may earn. It made you laugh. He grew so irrational with it that it turned philosophical. While engaging you in discussions surrounding economy or society, you grew a perfect understanding of how his mind works. He is unhinged, but he has a depth to his actions… And it made sense. You sat there, naked, actually agreeing to his words. That’s crazy! He’s crazy! You’re crazy?

“-people exaggerate us like animals! The working class is in shambles due to the economy and American hierarchy! The patriarchal system these men follow-“ Trevor was interrupted when the clock striked 12pm. You jumped out of your skin.

“What the fuck?” He sadly exclaimed, “I have to leave now? Fuck that shit!”

“No, no. You go, I’ll be here.”

“But I’m already here.”

“Trevor, go.” You commanded.

Trevor raised his eyebrows before smirking, “Yes ma’am…” He stumbled out of your bed, collecting the pieces of clothes that were scattered across your bedroom. He peered over again, “Gimme a call later, sweet cheeks. I can’t wait long enough after this morning.”

Your dressing gown was loosely around your skin. You were stood outside the door, shivering at the impact of North Yankton’s weather. Trevor was hiking down your driveway and towards the taxi he called. You saw him turn back and give you a wink. ‘Weirdo’ you’d think, assessing his movements. The swagger walk and how he swiftly climbs onto the backseat. You could even tell from his physical language that well… He’s a manic. Trevor’s taxi drove away and down the street. You waited until he was out of sight… And now you were alone in your home. Alone with your thoughts.

#trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips #gta 5 #gta v #grand theft auto 5 #before the storm #hate to love love to hate

[fatesurvived-arc]

Sydney Sage: Re-Education + trauma

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MENTIONS OF TORTURE, INHUMANE ACTS, FORCED FEEDINGS, FORCED DRUG USE, AND FORMS OF AVERSION THERAPY.

To really get into the TRAUMA we must get into the poor conditions the Alchemists kept traitors in. Sydney was kept in a cell for three months before being moved upstairs with the others for the actual re-education aspect. The cell was described as a small, cramped stone cell. Within the cell, it held a sink that dispensed ice-cold water that smelt of rust and a toilet. She had no bed; she was expected to sleep on the hard and cold stone ground. When she had been placed in the cell she had been stripped of her clothes and left naked, a tactic to break her. They kept the lights off, she was in complete darkness for most of the day, and her only form of communication was with someone through a speaker in the ceiling, asking her if she was guilty, trying to find new tactics to break her, bend her to their will. Not only was she tormented by the mystery voice, the nudity, and the bone-chilling cold conditions, they taunted her with objects of comfort; a real bed, warmth, clothing, a real bath or shower, even her cross that unbeknownst to them was made by Adrian, her vampire boyfriend. The catch was she had to admit that she was guilty of going against their values, beliefs, and morals. To admit that she had sinned against her own, that she was TAINTED. 

When Sydney first was put into the cell she woke up in the darkness, naked and afraid. She knew where she was (re-education) but she had no idea what was going to happen. Her heart raced and they kept her there without making contact for several hours, presumably seeing what she would do. The darkness was overwhelming, she found herself in weaker moments wondering if she would survive this, if fighting this was worth it.

The food she had been served while in the cell was described as a fortified, tasteless, hot cereal however it was lukewarm at best. When she refused to eat it, going on a hunger strike they forced her to eat through disgusting measures. After that, Sydney learned to eat the food for fear of being subjected to another forced feeding.

Another tactic in their arsenal was to pipe drugs in through the ventilation system daily to either keep her groggy or a stimulant to keep her awake and irritable. The brain can’t function accordingly on such disturbed “sleep”. 

Around a month and a half to two months into her three months stay in the cell, they had offered Sydney a paper-thin sleeveless shift that provided no warmth - a gesture of goodwill. She accepted it to try and preserve some dignity as if they weren’t watching her with a night vision camera at all hours.

For much of the three months, Sydney endured their games by thinking of Adrian, all their escape plans and all their stolen moments together. Playing through every conversation that she could remember. Sometimes it became too much, so she’d turn away from the camera and cry until she couldn’t any longer.

When Sydney finally gives in, agrees to re-education, a chance to get proper sleep, to talk to Adrian, to find a way out, she is permitted a 5-minute shower, where khaki scrubs were given. It’s there in the bathroom that she catches a glimpse of herself, her body. Due to malnourishment, she had described herself as having a hollow look, intensified by dark shadows under her eyes and a paleness to her skin from the lack of sunshine.

DURING RE-EDUCATION:

One of the main torture elements is purging: being strapped to a chair and injected with a serum that made you feel nausea that took over the entire body, throbbing of her head, and the internal body temperature skyrocketing, resulting in sweating. After being injected they show images or ask questions about the moroi, dhampirs, and Strigoi. If you answer incorrectly (against the Alchemist way) it gets worse. If participants close their eyes to avoid having to watch the screen, there are methods meant to keep the eyes open.

The first time Sydney was sent to purge she felt so sick to her stomach, not only from the injection but from the agony, the not knowing, the ever so slightly fading of her hope.

The other form of torture is while she was strapped to a chair, Sheridan, the lady in charge of the facility would press a button and part of the arm rest sliding back to reveal a clear liquid. With another click of the button and the armrest would move down into the liquid. The chemical was described as if her skin had touched a pot of boiling water, searing her skin, and setting the nerves on fire. When Sydney refused to say that the Moroi on the screen were evil creatures, Sheridan would lower her arm in for longer periods of time, not relenting despite her screams of pain.

When Sheridan showed Sydney a picture of Jill and Adrian, expecting her to call them evil creatures, Sydney couldn’t do it. She tried to blink away the tears of pain, reminding herself to be strong, that this was just a game. That didn’t impress Sheridan, lowering her arm deeper and keeping it submerged Sydney finally gives in, calling them creatures of darkness. Whether she believed it or not she had to play the twisted game, to survive this torture.

During an attempt to shut off the gas and find a way out, she was caught by Sheridan and struck with a taser. When she came too, she was strapped to a cool table with her extremities and head strapped into place. This would be known as persuasion. The table had been rigged to produce a pain like electric shock, paper cuts and bee stings all wrapped up into one uncomfortable feeling going nerve deep. When Sydney wouldn’t answer, they brought in her roommate, Emma, and began to torture her with the same methods until Sydney told her what she wanted to know.

When Sydney admitted that she was using human magic, she had no clue that Sheridan and the other Alchemists could be so cold. That she was essentially the enemy now and that they had no trouble increasing the intensity.

POST RE-EDUCATION & HER ESCAPE:

I’ve touched on this in another HC but I really want to re-iterate it. The trauma that she endured for four months simply does not disappear as quickly as the novels depict. Trauma like that can take months, years or may never actually disappear.

For Sydney, her healing takes a long time. She has nightmares regularly and can no longer sleep in the darkness, afraid that she will wake up back in that cold cell. Even after her deal with the Alchemists for her freedom, she can’t shake that horrible feeling that it’s going to be ripped away at any moment. The first night outside of the facility, she stayed awake until she could no longer hold her eyes open, her sleep is short lived. Waking up covered in sweat, heart racing and feeling utter panic and fear. 

The second most important aspect of her recovery process is her diet, she’d always been obsessed with her figure, one that her father hadn’t helped dissuade. She’d lost an incredible amount of weight and putting it back on was hard. She would try one day, eating as normal as she could and the next in tears because she couldn’t bring herself to eat. It was a source of conflict between Sydney and Adrian. 

Sydney will NEVER utter a word about what she endured to a single person she loves for fear of them doing something stupid. She keeps quiet about her trauma aside from what Adrian and Eddie had seen, she doesn’t like to talk about it.

#( x. headcanons ) #𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔.⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ SYDNEY SAGE. #tw torture #tw malnutrition #tw aversion therapy #so ouch this still hurts

[i-mybrunettelady]

asks for you from the latest ask game--major arcana 0 and I & two and four of wands for sanne? :) @kerra-and-company

my sunshine daughter... <3

0. The Fool - when you first created your character, what did you originally envision for them?

In all honesty, I don't remember. I was playing around with CC, I'd made a few (blonde, funnily enough) rangers but deleted them all, until I ventured into nornlands with Sanne and never looked back. As such, there's not any OG concept I can precisely pinpoint to, though I will say that her personality is based on canon norn PC characterisation!

I. The Magician - have you followed through on your original vision for your character? Are they as they were when you first began?

As I said, there wasn't an OG vision. But what I can say here is that over time, Sanne gained a lot more edge; once I started getting into ranger more, she became a relaxing character for me to play -> me thinking her vibes were sunshine, chill and zen, but nah. She is still my sunshine baby, but a prideful, powerful, radiant sun.

II. The High Priestess - has your character ever ignored their conscience?

Not really? Sanne's always stayed true to herself. One of the key differences between her and Nyra, for example, is that Nyra will do what she needs to do, and then have regrets later, as she is a highly moral person and holds herself to a high standard; Sanne won't have regrets because she will refuse to do the things that will tarnish her reputation in the eyes of others and herself. That way, there is no chance of regret. I bring Nyra up because if somehow Nyra wasn't in the picture, Sanne would be my Comm! Except that AU will never happen because Nyra yells so damn loud all the time. This also excludes Kosara, who is a straight up alt AU Commander in a verse me and @uselessidiotsquad have!

ー☆* Four of Wands - what was the most recent celebration your character took part in?

Taking the Oni down! My big four + Liv are all in Cantha for those eps between SotO and EoD and lord knows she was celebrating with the Gyala Delve miners and the gang. Bonus points for various moots after the end of Icebrood, because Jormag dying was a personal thing too.

#gw2 #ask meme #aisanne bjornsdottir #gw2 norn #babygirl <3

[effervescentdragon]

Okey but what if the red Bull courting seb after Ferrari was true. 2021 plays out the exact same way except it’s seb instead of max.

*new Red Bull cheated gate every week*

I pretend I do not see. All I see is a fünf x Weltmeister

He thinks of Michael often these days.

The fact is, it's all devolving. The thrills aren't as thrilling as they used to be, with the dangers diminished and the rules used arbitrarily and nonsensically. It feels both more sanitised and dirtier at the same time. What was that quote, The age of heroes is long past? That is how he feels.

Not that he cares much these days. He knows what he is here to do, for one final time. He knows how he drives, and more than anything, he knows how his opponent drives. He's driven with him in one way or another for the whole of his career. Fifteen years. He thinks that's enough, really. A nice number. Just good enough to go out on a high. Just perfect, to match his car number to his wins.

He doesn't think he wants to do it again next years. There is one thing Nico did right (except demolishing and breaking a person the way he hasn't gotten to do since 2013, and he misses it), and that is removing himself from the narrative after standing on top of the world. Fuck them, he'd said to Seb. They can say whatever, I still have this to take home, and they can't take it away, he had said and patted his WDC trophy.

(Do you want me to fuck you, he had said then, grinning wickedly. Jenson had laughed at the expression on Nico's face and answered so that Nico didn't have to.)

Mick comes to wish him luck before the race starts, and he thinks of Michael. Mick is still so wonderfully innocent, and he may be the only thing worth protecting anymore. He hugs Mick and thinks how it's bettter that he did not understand, because Michael would have, and that would have hurt. He plays dumb at Mick's earnest adoration,. This is something he owes to Michael, and he is alright with not taking this, too.

Charles finds him before the race too, and he lets him kiss him for good luck. Relishes it, even. There is hope for that one yet, he thinks. I've taught him everything I could, and now it's on him to decide what is more important, his morals or winning. Whichever one he chooses, he knows that a part of Charles will die irrevocably. He is alright with whichever part remains. There are ways to even the score, always, if Charles ends up winning in red. Charles likes kneeling too much to protest; always has. That will not change in a year or two.

"Ready?" Christian asks him. He is too excited, and it's pitiful. He doesn't care about the means to the end, but he reserves the right to despise the man with the means. He thinks of his announcement, the one he will make whrn he wins, and smiles. "Of course."

Rocky claps him on the shoulder. "Let's go, sunshine," he grins, and it startles a laugh out of him. How fitting, he thinks. A full circle. The sun is radioactive these days, dangerous and murderous. It feels even more fitting.

"Let's go, boys," he says, and puts his helmet on.

Sebastian Vettel sits in his Red Bull for the last time in Abu Dhabi in 2021, knowing he will win.

It doesn't take away from the thrill at all.

He smiles. It's not a nice smile. It never really was, but they didn't want to see it, and that is completely on them.

The lights go out. He breathes, inhale, exhale, and away he goes.

#this is. something #yes this is about sebastian vettel #evil!seb #rbr seb take 2 #f1 rpf #when a sunshine refuses all morals this is what happens #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites #if youre looking for wholesome look away #:)))) #lovely anons <3 #akira answers asks #sebchal #kinda #bastard!seb

[artist-issues]

Okay, far be it from me to act like I could do a better job than Tennessee Williams.

EXCEPT THAT I COULD. Anybody could, with any kind of moral compass. 

What SHOULD have happened is Stanley should have tried to rape Blanche and Blache should’ve killed him with that bottle. She had enough parallels in her character to that of Norma Desmond for that to be a believable action for a lying, self-deluded, self-satisfying, cougar of an alcoholic woman. 

Then she should’ve kept descending into madness. Then Mitch should've come in, seen the evidence of everything (Stanley’s intent-to-rape guilt, Blanche’s killing him) and told that to Stella. And THEN Stella, with the newborn, should've suddenly accepted, like the freakin SEARCHLIGHT TURNED ON THE WORLD, that a) her husband was a monster and b) her sister is a monster. 

And then Eunice goes, “let the doctors take your crazy sister away, you and the baby come live with me.”

But heartbroken, yet clearsighted Stella would say, “‘No, I’m going with her. I’ll take care of her.”

And Mitch (who’s still hanging around in kind of disgusted fascination,) would continue his self-righteous train of thought and be like, “‘What? But didn’t you hear me: it’s all true, she really did stay at the Flamingo, and she really did get involved with a 15 year-old. And she’s crazy.”

And then Stella would look him dead in the self-righteous useless thuggish eyes around that humongous nose and be like, “‘I know. I always knew, deep down, but I didn’t want to believe it. [insert some line about keeping things in the shadows] But the fact is, even when I see her as she is, I can still love her. So i’m going to take care of my sister. Come on, Blanche, honey, we’re going to be free of this place after all.”

And then she takes crazy Blanche by one arm and carries the baby in the other, and the two of them step over Stanley’s stupid pig corpse, and they join the doctors peacefully at the door and drive out into the New Orleans sunshine.  Before the ending, the whole movie was using light as a symbol, this threatening thing that Blanche had to hide from, because she knows if people see her, not just her fading beauty and advanced age, but if they really see her and all her wrongdoings, they won’t help her. She thinks showing people the truth will end in something bad, and it does: Stanley keeps smashing her over the head with harsh truths and judgements, and when Mitch finds out the truth he abandons her and tells her she’s no good. There are plenty of characters who keep banging the “"Truth-is-Dangerous-and-Will-Leave-You-Unloved” gong.

What they needed was for Stella, another character who, like Blanche, hides from harsh truths, to grow past that. And in that growth process, she could've taught Blanche, even as a crazy broken shell of a person, that not everybody who learns the horrible truths about you will abandon you. It would've worked two ways! Blanche could've learned that the truth was the new start she was looking for with her sister’s loyalty and shelter, and Stella could've learned that real love isn't lust; it's choosing to acknowledge the bad and help anyway.

Because you know what? The consequences of broken people being seen as they really are should not, in fiction, be cruelty and more cruelty. You can punish monsters, and you can kill monsters, but if you have the chance to represent the light of truth shining on monsters as something that ends in love and redemption, you should take that chance every time. Not leave the world more arbitrary and cruel than you found it. 

And certainly not expect me to believe that a character who spent the whole movie refusing to believe anything she didn’t want to believe would stick to a commitment…to live ten steps above her rapist husband as if she’ll never see him again. Honestly. What a freakin ending fumble. 

#a streetcar named desire #film rewrite #fix-it #tennessee williams #tennesee williams #marlon brando #elia kazan #50s film #film meta #meta #fan #old hollywood #stellaaa #stella #stanley #blanche #classic film #classic films

[bria-doublen-a]

Book Review: Things We Never Got Over

Non Spoiler Section

Alright. I’m just going to dive right in here. I hated—absolutely hated this book...until page 490. I’m new here, so if you don’t know, allow me to explain: I like to jump into books blind. I had no idea what I was getting myself into or really what the story itself was going to be like. I only knew that it was a romance and it was trending and I was like, heard that. Sign me up. I wasn’t expecting to hate my characters for the majority of the book.

But hang on, peeps. Bear with me a moment. If you’re anything like me and you don’t have any patience with cliched and unlikable characters, please listen to me when I tell you this: EVERYTHING HERE HAPPENS FOR A REASON.

These characters are meant to have annoying characteristics because we are supposed to watch them as they develop into a better version of themselves. Don’t give up hope! Hang in there, okay?

Without someone to hold my hand and give out kind and gentle encouragement, Lucy Score had me ready to rip my damn hair out. I was saying stuff like, “I can’t wait to tear this book a new one”, “I hate this book”, “I’m only gonna finish it so I can throw tomatoes at it and boo it off the stage”, “What theme are we even trying to preach here, Lucy???”.

Then I got to the aforementioned page 490. Everything suddenly made sense and I felt like an idiot. Because of course this author knows what she’s doing. Of course these characters were going to change. I’m astounded by how little faith I had in this book. I’m honestly so disappointed in myself.

I’m telling you all this because this book is going to frustrate you. Make you scream. Make you want to punch someone in the face. But believe me when I say I’ve never had so much fun in my entire life.

And more importantly, this story has a message that I believe everyone can benefit from. 100000% recommend.

Don’t think. Just jump. You won’t regret it.

Spoiler Section

OH. MY. GOD.

When, I say I hated Knox Morgan, I am not exaggerating in the slightest. He was rude. Arrogant. The biggest ass I’d ever met in my life.

I never quite understood the whole morally gray, grumpy/sunshine thing, but that’s just my personal preference. What I really hated about him was his refusal to develop. Even as we watched him fall for Naomi, we watched him stay stagnant for more than 75% of the book. That was a ballsy move, Lucy. I mean, truly. I was ready to give up on him.

Don’t get me wrong, Naomi got on my nerves a hell of a lot too. The instant perfect-mother thing she switched on the second she met Waylay (literally the second) was so annoying. Like we found Waylay in the motel room and Naomi’s already giving her shit about her potty mouth. Like girl, if you don’t build some rapport first. Ugh, I’ve never rolled my eyes so hard before. But then I realized that was all part of her development and it made all the weird, awkward scenes with her and Way much more tolerable because I knew Naomi was going to learn something.

By the way, I think it’s worth saying that Waylay is the only reason I pushed through. I loved her instantly and I pushed myself to finish the book because I wanted to see her get a happy ending. Because by this point, I’ve already decided that I hated both Naomi and Knox. Without Waylay, I don’t think I would have finished this book, not gonna lie. Of course in hindsight, I can say the journey was worth it, but my god. I thought about quitting so many times.

Naomi’s and Knox’s relationship (or friends-with-benefits-ship) felt like a trauma response. Knox was so horrible to her, from the very beginning. I can forgive a little snarkiness and sarcasm for the sake of a romance novel, but he really wasn’t cutting her any slack. Personally, I don’t understand how she caught feelings for a man that antagonistic towards her.

Technically, Naomi even said it herself. She felt like she was making a hard turn from the perfect guy she was about to marry to the douche-y guy who claims she’s a pain in the ass, but continues to insert himself in all her business. He might be sexy and have that whole nothing-can-penetrate-this-wall thing going on, but he was constantly degrading Naomi and making her feel bad for second guessing and wanting to dissect things. But when he’s constantly playing hot and cold, saying he wants no attachments and then proceeding to do things that definitely create attachments, how could he blame Naomi for wanting an explanation??

And when he finally admitted his feelings to himself and broke up with her???

Y’all, I was pissed. I threw the book down, folded laundry, took a shower and painted my nails. And my heart was still pounding with rage.

And then for him to still act like such a demanding douchebag and accuse her of being irrational? Bro. Knox had officially put himself on my shit list. I had about a hundred pages left and I knew—I just knew that Lucy was going to somehow put these two back together for the sake of a happy ending knowing DAMN well that Knox is undeserving. He would buy her some stupid giant coffee or get her flowers or perform some other act of idiotic grovelling and Naomi would be just as stupid and take him back.

Then, I turn to page 490. And I realize that Lucy is not stupid. This ain’t her first rodeo. We were meant to hate Knox and Naomi’s relationship. It was meant to be toxic af. Knox opened up, but they were able to admit that they just wouldn’t work and then I finally realized the meaning of the title. There are just some things a person never gets over. And Knox’s fear of intimacy was one of them. At this point, I believed that the book would end without them getting together. That we weren’t going to reward shitty behavior

But then the unexpected happened. I’m actually kind of on the fence with the last fifty or so pages, but I mean it was fast paced and interesting in ways that I truly didn’t expect so I mean...that’s something I guess. Tina finally made her appearance and I was actually kind of glad she wasn’t just a straight up asshole. I mean, don’t get me wrong. She’s an asshole. But she’s not a to-hell-with-my-kid, I-don’t-give-a-crap-what-happens-to-her kind of mother. She still worries for Waylay’s safety it’s just a matter of she doesn’t really know how to keep her safe or how to stay away from settings that would put her in danger. It’s believable which is why I liked it.

Then Knox saves the day (because of course he does) and he finally gets the kick the ass he needed to acknowledge Naomi as more than a fuck-buddy. I don’t know, like as a reader I’m happy that they get the opportunity to try out a real and healthy relationship. But as someone who also knows a thing or two about storytelling and character development, I can’t help but think it was kind of a fast turnaround. Even if there had been more time in between that scene in the office where Knox talks about his dad and saving the girls, I think I would’ve been happier.

But all in all, with all the drama and the scares and the guns waving and evil twins evil twinning, I’m just so relieved that Naomi and Knox finally get a WIN. All that toxic relationship crap was honestly so exhausting and it really is a relief to see a happy ending.

And I have to commend any writer who’s capable of making me do a hard 180 like that. Even if I don’t agree with how the book ended, I still love these characters a hell of a lot more than when I started.

Well done, Lucy. Well done.

#book recs #book review #trending books #booktok #things we never got over #lucy score #Naomi Witt #Knox Morgan #grumpy/sunshine

[fatesurvived]

Sydney's time in re-education as well as post rescue // TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MENTIONS OF TORTURE, INHUMANE ACTS, FORCED FEEDINGS, FORCED DRUG USE, EATING DISORDERS AND FORMS OF AVERSION THERAPY.

It's also SUPER lengthy so grab a snack friends.

To really get into the TRAUMA we must get into the poor conditions the Alchemists kept traitors in. Sydney was kept in a cell for THREE MONTHS before being moved upstairs with the others for the actual re-education aspect. The cell was described as a small, cramped stone cell. Within the cell, it held a sink that dispensed ice-cold water that smelt of rust and a toilet. She had no bed; she was expected to sleep on the hard and cold stone ground. When she had been placed in the cell she had been stripped of her clothes and left naked, a tactic to break her. They kept the lights off, she was in complete darkness for most of the day, and her only form of communication was with someone through a speaker in the ceiling, asking her if she was guilty, trying to find new tactics to break her, bend her to their will. Not only was she tormented by the mystery voice, the nudity, and the bone-chilling cold conditions, they taunted her with objects of comfort; a real bed, warmth, clothing, a real bath or shower, even her cross that unbeknownst to them was made by Adrian, her vampire boyfriend. The catch was she had to admit that she was guilty of going against their values, beliefs, and morals. To admit that she had sinned against her own, that she was TAINTED. 

When Sydney first was put into the cell she woke up in the darkness, naked and afraid. She knew where she was (re-education) but she had no idea what was going to happen. Her heart raced and they kept her there without making contact for several hours, presumably seeing what she would do. The darkness was overwhelming, she found herself in weaker moments wondering if she would survive this, if fighting this was worth it.

The food she had been served while in the cell was described as a fortified, tasteless, hot cereal however it was lukewarm at best. When she refused to eat it, going on a hunger strike they forced her to eat through disgusting measures. After that, Sydney learned to eat the food for fear of being subjected to another forced feeding.

Another tactic in their arsenal was to pipe drugs in through the ventilation system daily to either keep her groggy or a stimulant to keep her awake and irritable. The brain can’t function accordingly on such disturbed “sleep”. 

Around a month and a half to two months into her three months stay in the cell, they had offered Sydney a paper-thin sleeveless shift that provided no warmth - a gesture of goodwill. She accepted it to try and preserve some dignity as if they weren’t watching her with a night vision camera at all hours.

For much of the three months, Sydney endured their games by thinking of Adrian, all their escape plans and all their stolen moments together. Playing through every conversation that she could remember. Sometimes it became too much, so she’d turn away from the camera and cry until she couldn’t any longer.

When Sydney finally gives in, agrees to re-education, a chance to get proper sleep, to talk to Adrian, to find a way out, she is permitted a 5-minute shower, where khaki scrubs were given. It’s there in the bathroom that she catches a glimpse of herself, her body. Due to malnourishment, she had described herself as having a hollow look, intensified by dark shadows under her eyes and a paleness to her skin from the lack of sunshine.

DURING RE-EDUCATION:

One of the main torture elements is purging: being strapped to a chair and injected with a serum that made you feel nausea that took over the entire body, throbbing of her head, and the internal body temperature skyrocketing, resulting in sweating. After being injected they show images or ask questions about the moroi, dhampirs, and Strigoi. If you answer incorrectly (against the Alchemist way) it gets worse. If participants close their eyes to avoid having to watch the screen, there are methods meant to keep the eyes open.

The first time Sydney was sent to purge she felt so sick to her stomach, not only from the injection but from the agony, the not knowing, the ever so slightly fading of her hope.

The other form of torture is while she was strapped to a chair, Sheridan, the lady in charge of the facility would press a button and part of the arm rest sliding back to reveal a clear liquid. With another click of the button and the armrest would move down into the liquid. The chemical was described as if her skin had touched a pot of boiling water, searing her skin, and setting the nerves on fire. When Sydney refused to say that the Moroi on the screen were evil creatures, Sheridan would lower her arm in for longer periods of time, not relenting despite her screams of pain.

When Sheridan showed Sydney a picture of Jill and Adrian, expecting her to call them evil creatures, Sydney couldn’t do it. She tried to blink away the tears of pain, reminding herself to be strong, that this was just a game. That didn’t impress Sheridan, lowering her arm deeper and keeping it submerged Sydney finally gives in, calling them creatures of darkness. Whether she believed it or not she had to play the twisted game, to survive this torture.

During an attempt to shut off the gas and find a way out, she was caught by Sheridan and struck with a taser. When she came too, she was strapped to a cool table with her extremities and head strapped into place. This would be known as persuasion. The table had been rigged to produce a pain like electric shock, paper cuts and bee stings all wrapped up into one uncomfortable feeling going nerve deep. When Sydney wouldn’t answer, they brought in her roommate, Emma, and began to torture her with the same methods until Sydney told her what she wanted to know.

When Sydney admitted that she was using human magic, she had no clue that Sheridan and the other Alchemists could be so cold. That she was essentially the enemy now and that they had no trouble increasing the intensity.

POST RE-EDUCATION & HER ESCAPE:

I’ve touched on this in another HC but I really want to re-iterate it. The trauma that she endured for four months simply does not disappear as quickly as the novels depict. Trauma like that can take months, years or may never actually disappear.

For Sydney, her healing takes a long time. She has nightmares regularly and can no longer sleep in the darkness, afraid that she will wake up back in that cold cell. Even after her deal with the Alchemists for her freedom, she can’t shake that horrible feeling that it’s going to be ripped away at any moment. The first night outside of the facility, she stayed awake until she could no longer hold her eyes open, her sleep is short lived. Waking up covered in sweat, heart racing and feeling utter panic and fear. 

The months Sydney spent at the re-education center have left her with unseen scars, trauma, and paranoia. She can no longer sleep with the lights completely off for fear that when she wakes in the dark that she is back in that bone-chilling cold cement cell. The month that she had been in the company of others had helped some, but it had also gotten her into trouble where she was forced to endure horrendous measures. After she got out, she stays awake until she literally couldn’t keep her eyes open longer, she woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The feeling that her world was closing in on her was too strong. She REFUSES to tell anybody the true measures taken against her when inside, for fear that those she loves would retaliate and end up dead. She will admit that they used barbaric tactics on her, which is evident in her eyes for the first week after getting out, but she will never tell a soul what happened. She’s scared, constantly looking over her shoulder, isolating herself, overeating to compensate for the lack of proper nutrition then nothing at all the next to compensate. 

The diet that had sustained her while there hadn’t been enough, she’d grown very malnourished, it was described as each rib being visible under her skin, and it was a fight mentally and physically to regain much of the weight. Even in her healing process she could hear her father’s condescending words in her head judging her. She would try one day, eating as normal as she could and the next in tears because she couldn’t bring herself to eat. It was a source of conflict between Sydney and Adrian. 

Sydney will NEVER utter a word about what she endured to a single person she loves for fear of them doing something stupid. She keeps quiet about her trauma aside from what Adrian and Eddie had seen, she doesn’t like to talk about it.

The novels brush past her trauma and I don’t like that aspect. After coming out of something like that, you don’t just return to normal within a month or two, it is an ongoing and possible life-long battle. From my interpretation of Sydney Sage-Ivashkov, she will suffer with these topics much longer than the novels show.

#♡ ˟ HEADCANONS #♡ ˟ SYDNEY SAGE #tw torture #tw aversion therapy #tw force feeding #tw eating issues

[muutos]

𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝: 🧱  , 😇 , ⚰️  𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐬 !!

[  🧱   ] how would you describe your muses’ morality? what are their core values? 

so, i think since swiss is a young ghoul who’s not been on earth & out of the pit very long... he has a very childlike sense of what’s right & wrong. being in hell he’s always kinda been a bit squeamish by certain things that went on down there. he’s inherently a good person, who doesn’t want to hurt people unless he’s protecting papa or his friends. & he feels a lot of guilt when he does certain things. he’s clearly aware of what’s wrong in a sense that ‘i break something, i’ll get in trouble’ sort of sense. although where it gets rocky is when he’s just being his funny self, he may not realize if he’s making someone uncomfortable or if someone took something he said too seriously. he’s got this complex of wanting to make people laugh & smile because he wants to fit in, & look cool in front of his new ghoul buddies. but i think all in all swiss is just good, considering he’s a beastie. he protects people, he’s respectful to authority (for the most part), & he’d never intentionally do something mean if the other person didn’t deserve it.

[   😇     ] what would your muse do if they became a god?

this is interesting. i don’t know if he’d want to be a god. i think he’d be a lot like he is with copia & his position. worrying he’s not going to be good enough & trying way too hard to overcompensate. he also wouldn’t be able to let any of the natural course of nature type stuff happen. he’d get a big head, but he’d interpret it as ‘i know what i’m doing’ -- & then completely fuck up because he refuses to let people die of disease or something which leads to overpopulation which leads to suffering. i think the responsibility would buckle him, if i’m honest. it would honestly be kind of like that episode of futurama where bender becomes the god of his own little planet on his ass or wherever it was.

[   ⚰️    ] what are your muse’s greatest regrets? what would flash before their eyes when they’re on their deathbed?

i don’t know if he has any deeply meaningful regrets, yet. besides maybe not saying what he felt at one point or another, or holding back.. or maybe just hurting someone unintentionally. but swiss has a mentality where he can fix it, or make up for it..  but in his own mind he’s never good enough. for example he loves sunshine but he was beat up about copia needing another ghoul in the troop (another multi ghoul at that) after he was summoned. however, talk to me after copia bites the dust and this will be an entirely different answer.

PROMPTS I’D LIKE TO RECEIVE, PART 1.      /  /      @raiighn​

#raiighn #swiss ghoul * / headcanon #headcanon. #misc * / answered #misc * / out of character

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

go big or go home

this was a request from @kk2016

Hi!! could you write about being pregnant with Harry but no one knew so you guys show up to the Grammys together and everyone can see your baby bump through your dress?

here is the link to the dress you’re wearing. I have no idea if this is a good option, I’m terrible with fashion :) but I thought it was cute! If you hate it, definitely just imagine something else :)

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2.8k

It wasn't exactly hard to hide a pregnancy during a pandemic. You barely left the house, and if you did, you weren't recognized. The one time you and Harry had been spotted, you had only been 4 months along and were wearing an oversized sweater. So it was safe to say this baby was your family's little secret.

Harry knew, of course. He had been the first person to know (after Anne and the doctor who confirmed the pregnancy). You had got around to telling the rest of your families after the first trimester was over. The "inner circle," as you liked to call it, were the few people who were aware. This consisted of your parents, Anne, Gemma, Harry's band, Jeff and Glenne. That was it. Neither of you were wild on the idea of Harry's entire fanbase knowing, so you kept it under wraps as best you could.

Which, once again, wasn't hard to do. You didn't even have to go out for groceries; they could be delivered. You could buy everything for the nursery online and have it sent directly to your front doorstep. You and Harry had stayed inside for the better part of the past seven months.

However, there was one event coming up that you absolutely refused miss out on. The Grammys. At first, Harry thought you should stay home. He was worried you would get sick, and how it might affect the baby. He was worried about his fans finding out. He was worried he wouldn't win and he would have to see your disappointed face right next to him.

Of course, you were not about to let this happen. You assured him you wouldn't get within six feet of anyone besides him. You wouldn't shake anyone's hand or hug anyone. You would wear two masks, if it would make him feel safer. You would shower in hand sanitizer. You really didn't care what you had to do; you were not going to miss this night.

"Harry, I swear to God, if you keep giving me that terrified look..."

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, dragging a hand over his face. "I'm allowed to be a little apprehensive. This really isn't a good idea, I think it might be best if you just stay home. I just-"

"Absolutely not," you spun around, placing your hands on your hips. "I'm going to be there, in person, so I can watch my husband become a Grammy winner."

"You can watch from here!" He argued. "Plus, that way, you don't have to walk around all night. I know your feet have been bugging you, and-"

"Don't use this pregnancy against me!" You threw your head back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm not," he said, stepping closer and resting his hands on your belly. "I just want you to be safe. You and our little girl."

"I know," you brought up your hand to brush along his cheekbone. "And we will be. I'm not going to get close to anyone. I'm not going to touch anything. I'm going to have two masks on the entire night. Harry, there won't be anyone safer than me this whole night. I promise."

"I just..."

When he didn't finish his sentence, you leaned in to meet his eyes. "What are you really worried about?"

"Lots of things," he murmured. "Besides the literal plague? I'm worried about people finding out and being cruel. I don't want to deal with that, and I don't ever want you to be exposed to it. I'm worried something bad will happen, and it'll be all my fault for letting you come along. And... I'm worried you'll be disappointed if I don't win." His last sentence was so quiet you barely heard it, but it still made your heart ache.

"Baby..." You said quietly, your voice sad. You ignored his other two worries for now, because this one was clearly the most important to deal with. “You think I'll be disappointed in you?"

He nodded, looking at his hands on you instead of meeting your eyes. "Everything I do, it's all for you. You and her. What if it's not enough? What if I fail?"

"Harry," you kept your hands on his face, directing him to look at you. "I will never, ever be disappointed in you. You are amazing, in everything you do. Understand? I personally think you will be a three time Grammy winner at the end of the night-" he grinned at this- "But even if you're not, I will still be so incredibly proud of you. I will always, always be proud of you, and I will always love you. Okay?"

He didn't move, but you used your grip on his face to nod his head up and down. His smile grew bigger, and he grabbed your wrist gently. He turned his head to kiss your palm, sighing softly before he pulled away.

"I love you so much," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better. You always know exactly what to say."

You shrugged with a small smile. "I'm just amazing, I think."

"I think so too."

-----

You were sitting on the couch, dressed in your normal quarantine clothing. Hoodies. Sweatpants for him, leggings for you. Why would you get dressed up for a virtual acceptance ceremony?

You bounced excitedly as they announced "Adore You" as one of the nominations for best music video. Harry smiled when you gripped his arm.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," he admitted.

"Well, you're just a ray of sunshine today," you huffed. "Here it comes!"

"And the Grammy goes to... Beyoncé, Blue Ivy, and WizKid."

You slumped back slightly, patting his arm.

He laughed lightly at your reaction. "She deserves it."

You nodded. "Not to be mean to you, but yeah, she definitely does."

-----

As the hours wore on, you could tell Harry was getting more nervous.

"It's just- it's my first performance in a while. What if it's not good?"

"Harry," you grabbed his face again. "It will be amazing. Yes?"

Again, he didn't respond. Again, you had to physically move his head up and down in a nod. Again, this made him laugh. It was a small gesture, but you could tell it helped calm him down at least a little bit.

"There's one thing we haven't talked about," he pulled away from you, going through his drawers to find his socks.

"What's that?"

"Your outfit."

You shook your head. "I already picked my dress." You pulled out the garment bag, unzipping it to show him. It was fairly simple; you didn't want to overshadow him on his big day.

He smiled. "It's beautiful."

You nodded. "We're going to look so hot together."

"Couple of the year, I think."

"We might break the internet. Seriously. You're wearing a leather jacket with no shirt and I'm pregnant. Twitter is going to explode."

He laughed again, pulling you into his arms. "Are you sure you're ok with everyone knowing? It might not be good, people's reactions can be really-"

"You do realize they will have to find out at some time, right? You can't exactly hide a child forever."

"I know," he sighed. "I just like living in our little bubble, where it's only me and you who know."

"And your mom. And Gemma. And my parents. And Sarah, and Mitch, and Adam, and Ny, and Charlotte, and Jeff and-"

"Alright, alright, you've made your point," he chuckled. "But you know what I mean."

"I do," you nodded. "And I'm ok with people knowing. Besides, it'll blow over soon. I can just stay off socials until it does."

Harry sighed again. "I wish you didn't have to. I wish people would just..."

"Treat people with kindness," you grinned. "Maybe they don't know. Maybe you should tell them to do that sometime."

He rolled his eyes playfully, pulling away from you. "You're funny."

"Hilarious, I know."

"I have to get ready," he sighed. "One last try- are you sure you don't want to stay home?"

"Not a chance," you smiled. "Now shoo so I can get dressed."

-----

His hands were shaking as he opened the door of his dressing room. You gripped his arm tighter, trying to remind him you were here for him.

"Everything's going to be ok," you said softly.

He nodded, but his hands still shook.

"I'll be right offstage, you can look at me if you get nervous," you reminded him. "This might not be the time, but I'm, like, really excited to see you perform."

"Yeah?" He gave a small smile.

You nodded. "It's been a while since I've been able to see that. And you look... very nice in this outfit."

"Very nice, huh?" He laughed. "What a compliment."

"I do have a way with words," you grinned.

"Always," he leaned his forehead against yours. "Now what was it you said earlier? Shoo, so I can get dressed."

"I'll be just offstage," you reminded him one last time, blowing him a kiss as you stepped out of the room.

-----

You couldn't take your eyes off him for the entire performance. He was worried for no reason, because he was incredible. He was born to do this, you could tell.

You cheered louder than anyone else when he finished, earning a cheeky smile from him. As soon as he could get away, he ran over to you and enveloped you in his arms.

"I told you you'd be amazing," you whispered.

He nodded, wearing the biggest smile you'd seen in days. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"I didn't do anything," you laughed.

"No, I couldn't have done it without your moral support," he clarified.

"Right, moral support," you nodded seriously before breaking into a smile again. "But really, that was amazing. You're perfect."

"That's all you, love," he returned the compliment, turning back around to watch Billie performing. He kept his arm around you, though. The camera panned to you a few times during the different performances, and you knew by this point the viewers at home had seen your bump. Your dress wasn't very tight fitting, but you were almost 8 months along. You were sure social media was exploding by now.

You didn't have to worry about that though, not yet at least. You had a few more hours of calm.

-----

Harry's nerves had apparently returned once you got to the table. His hand was gripping yours even tighter than before and his leg bounced constantly. You placed your hand on his thigh, trying to calm his frantic movements. His eyes went to yours, and you could tell he was smiling under his mask.

"It will be fine," you reminded him. "Everything will be ok. You already did the hard part, remember?"

He nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Right. And soon, we can go home, and sit on the couch, and eat ice cream."

"Exactly," you smiled. "And I can get back in my leggings and not get dressed again for the next 6 months."

He laughed at this, and his grip on your hand loosened. He still kept hold of you, but you could tell he wasn't so nervous anymore.

"Ok, shh, they're announcing it now," you said excitedly.

Harry looked down, apparently seized with nerves again.

"And the Grammy goes to... Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles."

His eyes went wide, and your face split into a giant grin. He reached his arm out to grab yours, almost like he didn't believe what had just happened.

He pulled his mask off, standing up. He took your hand, gesturing for you to stand too, so of course you obliged. He pulled you against him, and you could feel how fast his heart was beating. When he pulled away, you smiled up at him.

"I knew you would win," you said softly, still beaming. "Now go!" You gave his shoulder a gentle push toward the stage.

"Wow, um..." He blew out a breath, looking at you before he spoke again. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my first album came out, during a day off in Nashville, and I just want to say thanks to Tom, Tyler, Mitch, and everyone... Rob Stringer, and everyone at Colombia, my manager Jeffery, who has always nudged me to be better and never pushed me, thank you so much. I feel very grateful to be here, thank you. All of these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much, I feel very honored to be here among all of you, so thank you so much. And I want to say-" he looked at you again, a smile of adoration crossing his face. "Most importantly, thank you to my wife. Y/N, I love you more than anything else on this planet, and I couldn't have done any of this without you. You make it all possible, so... thank you to the light of my life, and of course our daughter." His eyes went wide at the last sentence, like he hadn't planned to say that. He looked around nervously before he quickly made his way back to his seat.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that, it slipped out-"

You shook your head, taking his hand. "It's ok, don't worry about it," you smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

He put his mask back on, but it didn't hide the happiness on his face.

-----  

Once everything was over and you had both climbed into the car to go home, it seemed to really hit him.

"I won a Grammy," he said in disbelief, looking down at the award in his hands.

"You won a Grammy," you repeated with a big smile on your face. "Grammy winner Harry Styles."

"Yeah," he looked back up at you, his eyes still wide. "That's... insane."

You nodded. "And very impressive. And I'm so proud of you."

He smiled, scooting closer so he could put his arm around you. "Grammy winner Harry Styles... and his amazing wife."

"And their amazing daughter," you added, placing his other hand over your stomach. "Feel that? She's been kicking all night. She's excited for you."

He grinned, before his face dropped back into one of concern. "Are you sure you're ok with what I said? I really didn't mean to, I just got caught up, it-"

"Baby," you stopped him. "I promise, it's ok. Besides, everyone knew the minute I walked in there."

"Right," he nodded. "Has your phone been blowing up?"

You shrugged. "I turned it off. Should we check?"

"I'm a little nervous," he admitted.

"I'm gonna do it." You fished your phone out of your purse, eyes widening when you saw how many notifications you had. From every possible app. Congratulations texts, excited DMs, missed calls, and then there were the mentions. There were well over a hundred on your lockscreen alone.

You cleared all of them, deciding to open Twitter and see how bad it was. You were very pleasantly surprised.

"harry's daughter" was #1 on the trending page, and "harry in leather" was right behind it. Clicking on the first one, you found several GIFs of the terrified look on Harry's face when he accidentally made the announcement. You smiled, but scrolled further. Hundreds of fans were typing in all caps, apparently very excited that Harry was going to be a father.

"You're right, we broke the internet," he grinned, looking through his own timeline. "I've seen my bare chest more in the last five minutes than my entire life before this."

"What a power couple we are," you laughed. "We got the top two trending spots."

"What an accomplishment," he joked.

You scrolled for a few more minutes, still yet to see a negative message. "You were worried for nothing, babe. They're all very excited for us."

"I see that," he grinned. "They've also named our baby for us, and somehow know her zodiac sign."

"Oh, wonderful," you laughed. "But really, it could have been worse."

"Definitely," he nodded. "Well, that's one way to announce a pregnancy. On live TV in front of the entire nation."

"Yeah, you know, go big or go home."

"Exactly."

Closing Twitter, you moved on to Instagram. You gasped when you saw the first picture on your feed. "Sarah posted her bump! Now we can be baby buddies in public, not just in secret."

Harry smiled, turning off his phone and pulling you closer to him.

"omg, baby buddies :)" you commented. Within seconds, Sarah had liked the comment and replied with "they will be best friends😊"

With that, you turned off your own device and leaned into his side. "What a good night. Aren't you glad I came with you?"

"I am," he admitted. "Very glad. Thanks for being stubborn."

"Always."

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