Tumgik
#i either put them far away from the action or in a different point in time entirely
Text
Tumblr media
helloooo have a messy scribble page of oc concepts. unfortunately, im in love and will now proceed to ramble At Length
but before that! rudimentary height chart!
Tumblr media
all i know rn is Mairy - the cow - is about the same height as Howdy/Barnaby/Poppy (around 8ft), Hettie & Daisy are in the Wally/Julie/Sally category (around 3ft), and Jesterly is more Frank/Eddie (around 4ft). Derry Drake is fuckoff huge, and Casey is... idk really. tall but not That tall
so. rambles. i... have those, yeah
Mairy Love - she/her - lesbian a gorgeous white/blue cow! originally she was gonna be pink/white, but blue/white is my favorite color combo and honestly? it's dairy colors to me. she's big! she's strong! she's very gentle and sweet but also takes shit from no one, even though she doesn't like confrontation much (unless its playful roughhousing! jokes fly completely over her head! i'm thinking she tends to a lovely orchard of various fruit trees, and probably cultivates some crops for fun as well. maybe seasonal ones? pumpkins for the spooky season, fir trees for those snowy days, etc.
Casey J. Mittens - he/him - aro this orange fella is scaredy cat central! unfortunately for him, he's also curious to a fault! curiosity killed the cat, and he fears the day that rings true for him! he'd rather curl up at home or in a cozy tree, crocheting something cute from one of his many balls of yarn than do anything else. he tries to be a voice of reason, but is too easily convinced otherwise. he's that friend who says "we shouldn't be doing this" as he wholeheartedly assists in the shenanigan in question.
Hettie (currently undecided) - she/her - bi true to her honeybee heritage, Hettie is a florist! she boasts an impressive array of flowers that she tends to like her life depends on it. she's always running around to make sure they're all getting the best care - and she's always checking in on her pals to make sure they're taken care of, too. she's a busy bee who wouldn't know a day's rest if it stung her on the ass! It takes a lot to make her mad, but everybody better watch out when her wings start buzzing
Daisy Hop - she/him - pan i actually created Daisy as a supplementary character for a certain au, but realized i could find a place for her in this little group. i'm thinking he runs a little shop - a roadside stall, more like - where she can both sell her own homemade candy & his friends' stuff! she's the only one in the group that can keep up with Hettie's energy, and even surpass it at times. though unlike Hettie, Daisy knows how to take (and appreciate) a break!
Jesterly - whatever/is/funniest - Derry a menace. they love pranks above all else, oftentimes at the expense of others. he's always up to something and is never not scheming something! there's always Someone to bother! in all honesty she's more like an annoying stray cat that no one can get rid of... and they better not try, or they'll face the wrath of this fool's Very large partner! The jester's cap never comes off, and neither does the mask!
Derry Drake - they/them - Jesterly there's no sugarcoating it - Derry is a big lazy grump! it's almost impossible to get them out of their cave, or off of any place they decide to nap. the only thing that can reliably get them moving is the promise - or prospect - of food. it's a wonder how they've accumulated such a hoard of random things in the back of their cave, seeing as they rarely get up at all. they're incredibly nearsighted and bite first, ask questions later - after all, who knows if the colorful blob in front of them is food or not! better to be safe than hungry!
currently in my mind they have their own little community deep in the woods. Daisy lives in a modified burrow, Maisy has a cute farmhouse, Casey lives in a cozy treehouse, Hettie has a small cottage, and Derry & Jesterly live in a cave. within their community, they share practically everything. want a snack? pluck something from the orchard. need a new pair of mittens? ask Casey! i suppose you could say they're communists <3 (except for Daisy. she won't charge his friends, but anyone else is free game)
Mairy and Hettie have romantic tension, Daisy and Derry are the only ones who can tolerate Jes, Mairy wants Jes dead, Casey is terrified of Derry, Daisy's rapid-fire speech confuses everyone but Hettie, etc. i should make a chart for funsies...
197 notes · View notes
jpnriikicore · 8 months
Text
── super shy
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
paring stiles stilinski x mccall!reader, word count 1k, genre fluff, authors note ngl this is my fav writing piece i've done so far 🫶🏻( masterlist )
Tumblr media
your standing on the bleachers during a lacrosse practice before tonight’s game. as your a photographer for the year book club you decided to take a few pictures of the lacrosse team for the page that was going to be dedicated to them.
you zoomed your lens in on one player in particular, stiles stilinski. he was talking with the coach - well, more like arguing which wasn’t unusual for the two. you snap a few pictures of him. truth be told, you had a crush on stilinski since fourth grade finding the boy's humor and sarcasm charming.
as he gets back into line to continue to practice he notices you and waves at you. you back away from the camera shyly waving back at him.
you sit down on the bleachers searching through your bag to find a different lens. you were too busy with finding the lens that you completely ignored the sound of someone walking up the bleachers.
"you coming to the game tonight?" his voice slightly startled you as you look up at him. he knew that it was a stupid question. you came to every single game, but he got to nervous and just asked the first question that came to his mind.
he was always incredibly nervous in front of you. either he’s to shy to talk to you which like never happens when talking with anyone else. if you asked everybody else in the school if stiles was talkative or not they would reply that stiles never shuts up. or he would ramble on about the most stupidest topics. well, he believed that it was stupid, but you didn’t you find it to add to his charm and personality.
"yeah!" you nodded looking up at him.
"stilinski!" coach yelled grabbing the attention of the two teenagers.
"see you there," he pointed finger guns at her. she smiled at the playful action. "i-i gotta go get back to practice." he pointed with his thumb behind towards the field.
"yeah, okay. see you at the game stilinski."
luckily, stiles wasn’t on the bench anymore and actually got to play. you sat down on the bleachers next the sheriff and your mom, melissa. like normal game day your wearing braids with red ribbons and a red sweater due to the cold weather with the number '11' on the back to support your brother.
you bought your camera to take a few more pictures. though you tried to take pictures of all of the players fairly for the yearbook you couldn’t help, but notice that the majority of the pictures you took was of stiles. you put your camera down to focus on the game happening in front of you. you looked over to the scoreboard taking notice that beacon hills was winning a few points ahead.
stiles glanced over at you and now is completely emerged about the thought of you. his mind wasn’t focused on the game by any means. you looked too alluring making all his interest go on you. the wind moves a few pieces of your hair that managed to get loose from your braids that exposed '24' painted in red on your cheek. it was a small subtle thing, but it made butterflies irrupt in his stomach.
he managed to get his focus back on the game after getting snapped back into reality by scott. he threw the ball into the net scoring the last point for beacon hills to win. while the other players celebrated he searched for you in the crowd that formed on the field.
you snapped a few more pictures of the players celebrating after the win before packing up your camera equipment which lead to you being one of the last ones to get off the bleachers. you walked through the crowd trying to find your brother to tell him congratulations.
stiles found you first though rushing up to you lifting you up from the ground spinning you around. in shock a few giggles escaped your mouth. a rush of excitement and adrenaline filled stiles as his body reacted before his mind could comprehend what he was doing. he kissed you.
"do you want to go on a date with me?" the words slipped without him thinking by the time he realized it was too late to backtrack his question. he swallowed nervously waiting for your answer.
"i would love to." you nodded, smiling up at him. you held his hand as you walk to the parking lot to your truck. you could tell your brother congratulations once he got home.
you chuck your camera equipment in the passenger seat through the rolled down window of the drivers seat. once you turns around to face stiles once again he trapped you between his body and the truck. his hand resting on the truck and the other carefully cradling your jaw. he leans in kissing you yet again. you melted into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. you could definitely get used to this.
"can i see the pictures you took?" he mumbled against your lips.
"yeah." you nodded reaching for the bag that sitting in the driver seat and unzips it getting the camera. you turn to him as you turn the camera on handing it to him. a bright smile paints his face.
"seems like you have a crush on someone." he teased, playfully pushing his shoulder on yours. you looks down in embarrassment kicking the small pebbles in the parking lot with you shoe.
"i've had a crush on you since fourth grade." you admitted lowly.
"i've had a crush on you since we met in the sandbox."
your face lit up at his confession. one night could truly change everything. at one point of tonight you was just childhood friends now you planned on going on a date next friday and kissed twice within the span of five minutes. what you believed was unrequited love for so many years turns out not to be as unrequited as what you believed.
© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023
761 notes · View notes
thecreelhouse · 3 months
Text
I can be your rotten fantasy ☠︎︎🔪♡
Paring: dbd!Steve Harrington x Reader x dbd!Ghostface
Summary: In search of taking your sex life to the next level, Steve takes something that doesn’t belong to him, only for the consequences to be greater than either of you expected.
Word count: 3.7k
CW/Tags: Steve and reader being horny morons, rough sex (PiV), oral sex (m receiving), light impact play, bondage, dacryphilia, dub-con, dirty talk, knife kink/play, DBD references, Pyramid Head mention
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: this has been sitting in my docs since 2021, and I kinda forgot all about it until last night. This is Dead By Daylight based, but it can still be read without any knowledge of DBD! title is from body parts by bludnymph. happy reading, fellow horror sluts. <3
🔪♡ ︎♡ ︎♡ ︎🔪
“Wait, wait— did I show you what I was able to swipe?”
Your brows knit together, curious over Steve’s words. He takes it as a sign to reach into his back pocket, pulling out a mask to show you— Ghostface’s mask.
“Steve, how the fuck did you get this?”
“He keeps extras in the basement. I found one hiding in a locker down there during the last trial.” Steve smirks— the same way he always does with the small ounce of ‘cocky son-of-a-bitch’ he has left in him.
“He’s gonna kill you.” You murmur, watching as Steve puts it over his head, pausing before slipping the mask over his face. 
“Not much of a difference from how he usually does, huh?” Steve still looks too confident, while you cant help but look over your shoulder in worry that Ghostface is around. 
He wouldn’t be, realistically. The two of you aren’t even in a trial, and far away, safe from the killers. For now.
“Steve…” Your voice warns, ignoring the warmth in your lower stomach. “This could really get us in trouble.”
“C’mon, you said you had a thing for bad guys.” Steve mumbles as he leans towards your face, lips barely touching yours. You snort at his corny words, but he ignores that. “You’re the one that said you have a thing for being scared.”
It wasn’t a lie: you really did have a thing for being scared, in the right situations, of course. There have been times you felt … excited as you were cornered or downed by some of the killers. You weren’t sure what exactly did it for you— the stalking, the weapons, the darkness of the beings themselves …. There was always something that got you way, way too aroused.
Steve pulls the mask over his face, donning the signature expression Ghostface always wore. His rather soft touches became rougher, fingers digging into the skin of your hips where your shirt rode up. 
You’re flipped around, back against the wall, while Steve grasps your throat. A strangled moan escapes you as you try to hold it back, trying not to come off as so needy and desperate already.
It doesn’t miss Steve, though. “You do like this, don’t you?” His voice is muffled through the mask, but still low and laced with lust.
You shut your eyes before nodding hesitantly, squeaking out an affirmative sound. You can’t see Steve’s face, but you know damn well he’s still smirking under that mask.
Steve rolls his hips into yours, grinding his already hard cock against you. Again, you try to hold back a moan, but it still comes out in a fractured, shuddered, breathy mess. He gropes your breasts roughly, tugging at your nipples through your shirt with a firm pinch.
“F- fuck—“ You gasp, hands flying to Steve’s pants, immediately undoing them. Steve moves a hand down to yours, mirroring your actions. The two of you end up nude waist down quickly. 
The thing was, you never knew when you’d be summoned to another trial, so usually any sexual experience had to be rushed, just in case. At this point, you and Steve were pros at quickies.
“God, sweetheart… wish I had a knife to play with you some more,” Steve grunts as he runs the head of his cock along your wet folds. You hook a leg around his hip, giving him easier access to your entrance.
“Nex- next time,” You gasp as he presses against your clit. Steve chuckles lowly behind the mask, teasing you again by dragging his leaking head against your sensitive spot. “Steve, please, j- just fuck me alrea—“
Steve thrusts into you without much warning, causing you to scream out and throw your head back into the wall. He slaps your face, albeit still with his gentle touch, but it makes you clench around him regardless. 
Steve groans loudly as he keeps his brutal pace, knowing he’s close already, and you’re not far behind, squeezing him so tight, threatening to milk him dry.
 “Yeah… fuck…” His grunts are muffled, but you’ve never heard him so… feral. You can’t hold back the filthy cries spilling out of you, almost screams, as Steve continues drilling into you. “This was worth the risk.”
—————
As silence settled around you, your ears still rang, filling the void. Chest still heaving with deep pants, you wondered if you had ever run that fast in a trial before.
Exhausted, you let yourself collapse back into the overgrown grass underneath you. You made it through, you actually escaped. You should’ve been relieved you bypassed another gruesome death, but all that was on your mind was Steve.
The two of you became separated after the second generator kicked on, sprinting in opposite directions after a close call with Pyramid Head. After that, you tried keeping an eye out for any sign of Steve, but were unsuccessful. Eventually the timer ran down and you had to leave through the open gate while you still could. 
You could only hope that Steve made it through before you.
“Jesus Christ, the deaths aren’t permanent in this place, settle down.” You mentally scold yourself, dragging a dirt caked and blood crusted hand down your face. “He’ll be fine either way.”
 Even with the self reassurance that the deaths weren’t final, your exhaustion was slowly turning over into rage. Fuck these trials, fuck these goddamn killers, and the Entity can absolutely go fuck itself to hell and back as far as you were concerned.
The post-trial fatigue was always ruthless; you could feel your eyelids slowly closing on their own, muscles growing limp as your body relaxed from its fight-or-flight mode that was a part of your everyday life now. With all your strength left, you moved back to rest against a giant tree, one with yours and Steve’s initials carved into the decaying bark.
 “You could just wait here for him, this is your spot anyway, he knows where to find you.”
It’s unclear how much time passes since your eyes slip shut, but you let them flutter open at the sound of someone walking on the gravel nearby.
At first sight, you jump and yelp, falling onto your back on the ground. You begin to nervously laugh as you realize—
“Steve, give it up already.” You tease as he leans over you, while you look at each other upside down. He’s wearing the Ghostface mask again, but then you notice something new. “Did you steal one of his robes too?”
 Steve shrugs silently, and you have to roll your eyes. 
“What? Now you’re not talking either?” You lean up on the backs of your arms, staring into the mask’s pitch black eyes. “Should’ve got the voice changer to make it believable.”
His head tilts slowly as he continues to look down at you. Another nervous laugh slips past your lips.
“Very funny, Harrington.” You reach up to pull the mask off, but his strong, gloved hand pins yours down to the ground. You grunt in surprise. “Hey! A little warning when you wanna play rough. Jerk.”
His other hand grips your free hand, pinning down next to your other hand. Yanking them together, he positions them above your head, gripping onto you with one hand as his other hand reaches behind him. Searching quickly, he pulls a rope from god knows where, before sloppily tying your hands together.
“A- are we gonna pick a safe word?”
Steve continues binding your wrists together; the knot is a wreck, but still effective. He hovers over your trembling form, staring at you like you’re prey.
“O- okay… I can pick it—“ You sharply gasp as Steve swiftly slips a knife under your shirt, slicing up the middle of the fabric. The ruined shirt falls aside, leaving your bra exposed. “Fuck… fuck… okay— uh— entity?”
Steve’s shoulders fall, then begin to shake ever so slightly in a silent laugh. You roll your eyes and huff, but he nods regardless.
The knife is polished, like it’s never been used. It makes your skin crawl with terror and excitement. Steve rests it on your chest, flat side to your skin, still for a moment. Then he slides it under your bra, tugging the sharp side up away from you. The twist of the weapon with the pressure from your bra, tight against your skin, digs the blunt side of metal into your sternum uncomfortably.
Shivering, you hold still, apprehensive to make any detrimental moves. It takes a bit of effort, but the blade finally slices through the stiffness of the bra’s gore. Though the two of you are ways away from the camp, you still blush at feeling so exposed out in the open.
One gloved hand reaches for your chest, groping roughly. You wince at the sudden painful pace, but you’re not immune to the pleasure that follows, arching into his touch. The other hand holding the knife begins to trace teasingly along your skin.
“You uh- you know how to use that th- thing, right?”
Steve nods slowly, still silent. You didn’t expect him to be so… dedicated to the character.
The knife’s tip catches along your sensitive skin, just enough to prick the surface, but it still startles you, granting another gasp.
“Wait- wa- hold on—” You panic, but force yourself to stay still. You trust Steve, he’d never hurt you, but something about this all feels… off.
Across the softest part of your breast, the entire edge slides across, ever so slightly. It’s smaller than a paper cut, but it still stings enough that you wince.
You watch blood bubble up a little through the laceration, gulping in fear. You didn’t expect Steve to jump right into knife play, ever. He teased often, but he was too nice to actually do it.
Thinking about it all made you dizzy with pleasure, soaking through your bottoms with arousal. Steve slowly starts to grind his hips into yours, knife still teasing along the surface of your skin. It catches and scrapes every so often, leaving behind thread-thin lacerations along your torso. You don’t bother to hide the whimpers his actions earn.
“St- oh, fu- fuck!”
So distracted by the knife, you didn’t even notice that he undid your pants before slamming into you mercilessly. It takes you a moment to register the way he stretches you so suddenly, and then the wave of pain hits.
Your mouth hangs open, but you can’t find your voice, can’t bring yourself to form words. A beat passes before a raw, raspy scream escapes your throat.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve, what is your—“
He slams himself into you again, stealing the rest of your question. The knife comes up to your throat, blade just close enough to threaten you with fear and the possibility of consequence as it rests on your skin. You’re tempted to use your safe word, jarred by how fast the scene has escalated.
Terror running through your veins only heightened your arousal more; Steve throws his head back, releasing a strangled groan under the mask. 
That didn’t sound like Steve. … At all.
Your heart leaps into your throat at the sound, pure horror replacing every other feeling you had just moments ago.
 Eyes wide, you dare looking at the mask, fighting back moans as he pumped into you. “You… you’re- you aren’t St—-“
“Hey, sorry I’m late, that trial was a nightm—“
Your head flips to the side, unable to believe the sight just feet away from you. Steve, worn out, exhausted, dried blood across his features. 
 Steve freezes in place, eyes growing as wide as yours, silent in fear. You do a double take— to Steve, then Ghostface. Ghostface, Steve. Steve was never in the Ghostface costume, so that means—
“Surprise, sweetheart.”
 The gravelly voice confirms your fears, and you squirm under the stranger, with no luck on escaping. 
Steve begins sprinting over, his well intentioned hero instinct taking over by default, but Ghostface presses the knife closer to your throat. You do your best not to hyperventilate as the sharp edge sits against such a sensitive area, but you’re terrified.
 If you die outside of a trial, is the death permanent? Because this was not the way you wanted to find out.
“Watch yourself, Stevie.” Ghostface’s tone dripped with mockery, continuing his rough thrusts into you, earning faint, defeated whimpers from you. “They’re really enjoying this. Should feel how wet they get when they’re threatened.”
Steve’s face contorts into concern and rage all in one, eyes darting between you and the masked killer.
Meanwhile, you’re trying your absolute hardest not to moan while your eyes well up with tears. Of fear? Maybe pleasure? Guilt? You weren’t sure, but Ghostface is right, you’re enjoying this, and you feel filthy. 
“You just can’t stop soaking my cock, huh, sweetheart?”
Your mouth falls open, unable to find your words still. Before your eyes roll back, you glance over at Steve with shame and desire.
“Sit and stay, pretty boy.” Ghostface points to the ground with his knife, and Steve reluctantly obeys. While still drilling into you, he groans “This is what happens when you fuck around with my shit.”
“We di- didn’t—“
“I wouldn’t fucking lie now if I were you,” Ghostface pushes the knife just a little further, and this time you can feel it catch ever so slightly on your skin. 
You gasp, then a sob escapes you, to which Ghostface just laughs.
“Who are you trying to fool, slut?” He growls as clearly as possible through the mask, keeping his pace. “You just squeezed me so fucking tight when I moved the knife, don’t pretend you don’t like this.”
Another sob leaves you, but it molds into a moan, because he’s right. You like this. You shouldn’t, this is wrong on so many levels, but the way Ghostface continues to rail you, you go dumb as your mind goes blank. Nothing else matters.
Ghostface pulls the knife away from you, and you shudder a sigh of relief, though internally you’re kind of disappointed at the loss. He notices and laughs again. Laughs right in your fucking face.
Before you can process anything, he pulls out, leaving you empty for only a moment before flipping you over on your stomach. As his hand reaches to shove your face into the ground, he bottoms out in you, earning filthy noises from you both.
Steve is horrified, but he can’t look away. Was it shock? Was it anger? He wanted to step in and help you, but he was afraid the wrong decision would cost you your life.
And if Steve was being totally honest, he wasn’t sure how the rules worked outside of trials. Killers didn’t approach survivors outside of the hell the Entity conjures up. There was no way for him to know if that changed outside of trials, and he wasn’t trying to find that out by sacrificing you.
… And, if Steve was being totally, absolutely honest, he was finding it hard to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. He couldn’t figure out what the fuck was wrong with him, but he was well aware how twisted this was.
“S- Stevie—“ You whimper, trying to reach your bound hands out in his direction. Ghostface laughs again, pushing your face into the ground with more pressure. Again, your walls constrict around him, and you feel shame at how much you like the abuse.
“Oh, does the poor damsel in distress want their knight in shining armor?” Ghostface mocks, thrusting all the way to the hilt with no concern for how you feel. You feel gravel and dirt scrape against your face as he continues pounding you into the ground.
Something about that, all of that, just makes you even more wet.
Steve can’t help but let his hand palm himself through his jeans. God, does he look ashamed, but something about that just made your skin burn up even more.
“If your pretty boy wants to join in, by all means,” Ghostface snarks as he gestures towards you while staring Steve down. “But I call the shots.”
———
You’ve lost count on the amount of orgasms that’ve torn through you already. Somewhere around the fourth high, the one that rolled right into the fifth with no warning, that’s when your brain went fuzzy, deep in subspace.
“So cock drunk, you just couldn’t stop at one, could you?”
Ghostface’s gloved hand shoves you closer to his pelvis, causing you to gag on his length. He tasted of you and him combined, and that alone was able to drive you wild. Even better, Steve was railing into you from behind as Ghostface fucked your mouth, matching Steve’s pace.
“Pretty little thing needed to be spit roasted so bad.” Ghostface teases, admiring the way your wide eyes look up at him as he continues fucking your face, eyes rimmed with tears. “Bet you let everyone fuck you around here, huh?”
You groan around his shaft, his words causing you to clench up. That sets Steve off, moaning sinfully as he slammed into you. His fingers on the left hand grip the swell of your ass, desperate for something to hold onto for balance. His right hand holds the knife— Ghostface encouraged him to try some knife play— the length of the blade parallel with your spine.
 Every so often the blade scrapes your skin as he creates taunting patterns with the tip. You whimper, scared, but your cunt tells a different story. Steve continues fucking harder, harder than he’s ever fucked anyone before.
“Our p- personal little fuck toy,” Steve grunts; every so often he makes a comment with some dirty talk much tamer than Ghostface’s, but hearing him talk at all is enough to make the coil in your stomach tighten.
“I usually don’t— yeah, right there—“ Ghostface grabs your head with both hands, hips snapping into your face mercilessly. “I don’t usually share, pretty boy… Jesus Christ— but I- I’ll make an exception for you two.”
 Steve’s hips stutter— he’s close. His head lolls back with a deep, gravelly groan. “Th- they were mine first.”
The way they talk about you with objectification, as if you’re not even there, it humiliates you, sending you closer to yet another release. Your legs shake, and your arms weaken, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Ghostface twists his gloved hand into your hair, tugging your head up to stay on his cock. The pull is intense, causing tears to spill over onto your face, mixing in with the dried blood and dirt that already settled there hours ago.
 Ghostface ignores Steve’s claim, rutting into your mouth with all he’s got. Steve takes that as a challenge to one-up him, thrusts picking up to a merciless speed and force. The silence of the night around you is broken by all three of you grunting, groaning, and especially you crying from how good this feels. The filthy noises of your slick cunt sucking Steve in as his skin slaps against yours, and the gagging from your mouth as Ghostface continues fucking your face are dragging you to climax with ease.
 You’re drooling on Ghostface’s cock while you soak Steve’s, eyes rolling back as another orgasm hits you full force, causing your entire body to convulse as pleasure consumes every inch of your being. Steve finally spills into you, making a mess of your tight, velvety walls that continue to flutter around him, while a guttural moan escapes him. 
Light flashes quickly in your face; Ghostface has his fucking camera in hand, skillfully taking a selfie as Steve cums, and you’re crying with Ghostface deep down your throat. He’s definitely done this before, only taking one and sighing satisfied before he cums, too.
“Oh, fuck… good girl…filthy bitch.” Ghostface grunts as he shoots his seed into your stuffed mouth, saltiness hitting your tongue before you swallow, left panting as he pulls out from your swollen lips. “That was fun, sweetheart, but I gotta go score some kills.” He releases the grip on your hair, and you collapse into the ground.
Steve throws the knife to the ground near Ghostface, panting as he pulls out of you, watching the mix of your arousal with his drip out of you and pool on the ground below. 
“Next time you try stealing my shit,” Ghostface points his knife towards Steve, “You’re choking on my cock too, pretty boy.”
Steve ignores the way his threat stirs something within him.
 The masked killer stands, flipping the knife in his hand before sheathing it somewhere under his robe, walking away like nothing even happened. His tall, threatening figure dissolves into the mist by the edge of the forest, leaving you and Steve alone.
 “Jesus Christ, what the fuck just happened?” Steve breathes, pulling you towards him as he moves back to the tree you were waiting by earlier. Working on the knot that still holds your wrists together, he asks softly “Are you okay?”
 Gazing up at Steve as he pulls your back against his chest, he notices the mess your spit and tears made all over yourself. You’ve got small, superficial cuts along various spots of your body, your lips are cock-swollen, and bruises are forming already from where they both gripped and manhandled you. Above it all, you’ve got the most dazed, sleepy smile plastered on your face.
 “M’so okay, you?”
 Steve reveals a smirk he was holding back as he looks down at you. “That was… fucking terrifying, but at least neither of us died.”
 “Like you didn’t enjoy it.” You tease, eyes fluttering shut as you settle into Steve’s arms. 
“I’m not denying that.” Steve admits, kissing the top of your head. “Never stealing from him again, though.”
 “You better not steal from any of the killers ever again.” You murmur, sleep creeping up on you.
 There’s not much to do for aftercare out here, other than keeping one another company while giving comfort. You’re still a filthy wreck; tears, saliva, dried blood and dirt everywhere, while still dripping the mixed slick from Steve fucking you.
“Trust me, I won’t.”
 A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, but you break it before exhaustion can steal you for the night.
 “… You think Pyramid Head likes threesomes?”
167 notes · View notes
geekgirles · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
"I would've preferred it if Amalia were our Queen instead."
Tumblr media
"Like many others, sweetie, but you can't say that right now."
Tumblr media
"Where did Amalia go, Mum?"
Tumblr media
"She's gone explore the world, like she usually does."
Okay, but this little piece of dialogue is crucial to understand so many things about the Sadida and their opinion on their royal family.
And we stan that little girl. Yes, baby, I, too, wish Amalia was queen instead. I don't trust Armand and Aurora as far as I can throw them.
It's already been established Armand resents his sister not only because of her wanderlust or the fact that their father seemed to favour her, but because so does their people.
The fact that there are apparently many who support Amalia, the younger princess, over her brother, the Crown Prince, comes to show that for the Sadida actions speak louder than words.
There is no denying that both royal siblings care immensely about their kingdom. Armand was in the front lines when Nox attacked alongside King Oakheart and many of Amalia's best, most mature moments were in relation to her wanting to protect and serve her people. Like when she decided to stand up against Armand and inform their father of Nox's attacks back in season one, or how she was more than willing to forego her chance to marry for love and marry Harebourg instead if that meant her kingdom would survive Ogrest's Chaos in the OVA.
The difference between the two of them, however, especially in the eyes of their people, is their actions or, more accurately, the consequences of said actions.
Armand is the Crown Prince, and he remains in their kingdom carrying out his duties while Amalia went off to explore the world and have fun, away from her duties. At first glance, that should make Armand the better choice in the eyes of the Sadida, except that also means they've probably been far more subjected to his less pleasant moments.
Having to watch your tongue out of fear of severe punishment or even death just because the prince is sensitive over his bad breath is overkill, plain and simple.
Not to mention, every time Amalia left her kingdom, her adventuring evolved into a life-or-death mission to save the world.
With Nox, the fact that she ran away allowed her to gain the intel needed to go back home and warn them of the upcoming attack. Something Armand refused to do anything about until King Oakheart entered the picture and took matters into his own hands, all because he couldn't believe his sister would ever be more than a spoiled brat trying to run away from her responsibilities.
With Quilby, what at first was a simple, humanitarian mission to retrieve his dofus and welcome the Eliatrope children eventually turned into a desperate battle for the survival of their world.
Again, in the OVAs, the entirety of the Sadida kingdom was aware and celebrated Amalia's sense of responsibility and selfless decision to enter an arranged marriage for their sake. I haven't watched beyond the Throne of Ice, so I don't know if the Sadida ever found out Harebourg's true plans for their forest, but if they did, all the more reason to respect Amalia for refusing to put her people in jeopardy.
Finally, people talk. In season 3, it's made apparent that since Aurora entered the picture (at the very least), the royal siblings' relationship has strained practically to the point of no return. And while Amalia isolated herself and mourned her father's deteriorating health, it's very likely the castle guards and servants bore witness to how the prince's treatment of his sister worsened each day. So I wouldn't be surprised if word got out and the rest of the kingdom sympathised with Amalia either.
Now, it is true that while Amalia does have a sense of responsibility and duty to her kingdom and a deep love for her people, despite her royal upbringing, she is not really made for the stifling life of royalty. Hence, her constant wanderlust. In that regard, Armand is indeed the most reliable of the two.
It just so happens that when it comes to personal flaws and his treatment of others he is wholly unreliable. It's his way or the highway. And that is a very terrifying quality for a king to have, to be unable to compromise.
But most importantly, what really sets these two apart in the way their people perceive them is that while Armand is a prince, Amalia is a hero. And she has proven time and time again that she will do everything in her power to assure everyone's safety and well-being.
And that alone speaks volumes of a ruler's true character.
315 notes · View notes
bones4thecats · 3 months
Note
I'm not sure if you accepting RoR request but can I request Shiva, Buddha, Qin Shi Huang and Nikola Tesla with a fem reader that's Nyarlathotep? (crawling chaos from HP Lovecraft) she looks normal and even cute most of the time but she can be very much terrifying when turning into her cosmic horror form or if she wants to just mess around with the gods (mostly Zeus and Odin) by messing with their heads most of the time and they can't do much because she's an outer god but around them she's very sweet and helpful and ties her best to push away her violent tendencies for their sake
Type of Writing: Request Characters: Shiva, Buddha, Qin Shi Huang, and Nikola Tesla Name: {Character} with a Nyarlathotep! Reader Requester: Anonymous
A/N: At this point, I may as well make a page dedicated to my H.P. Lovecraft-themed Reader pieces, since I've written like three pieces now! It's ironic because of how much I love reading about these characters, lmao
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
Tumblr media
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
🪩 This man thrives on destruction, he's the God of it for crying out loud!
🪩 When he first met you, you and your father, Azathoth, were attending the Gods' Council meeting, and you were one of the Gods who decided to spare Humanity, and when asked by him, you just replied with a sly
" Oh, I do not wish for them to live because of pity or love, silly! Quite the opposite, actually! Humans have caused so much chaos and madness, it's wonderful! And, I plan on keeping them for as long as I find them enjoyable. Now, ta-ta~ "
🪩 He'd be lying if he said he didn't find you a hint alluring, you looked far cuter than what was written down, you were always described as a being that looked more 'monstrous' and 'hideous' than anything Humanity could've created
🪩 Shiva and you would normally speak whenever necessary, but, after a while, your more distant bond grew into a blooming friendship and eventual marriage!
🪩 This God definitely doesn't care about how mad you sound with your words, he just fears that maybe one day you'll either say something to the wrong person or you'll end up going unstoppable with madness and get annihilated by a stronger being
🪩 Whenever Loki messes around with Shiva, you end up messing with his mind a lot, prompting Odin to knock you away, which makes you target him, much to his birds' annoyance
🪩 Shiva tried pushing his own violent tendencies away for you and his fellow wives' sake, and because of this, he ends up having a special day every month for him to go out and let out those thoughts and actions, and, when he notices just how much pressure was building on you, he'd take you with him
" Go ahead and blow that massive boulder up! Good job, my Being of Chaos! "
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
Tumblr media
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
🍭 This guy was concerned when he first met you, you were seemingly more insane than the other Gods he met, and that included those such as Loki, and we all know how crazy that guy is
🍭 The only reason this guy even spoke to you was because of how strongly your father stood with the destruction of Humanity, every. single. time. that the Gods voted
🍭 Buddha was getting annoyed with how ignorant and oblivious your father was, and he could tell you were as well, and when he asked you about how you truly felt about your father, you acknowledged him, unlike many different Gods, and spoke to him calmly with hidden insanity
" My father is quite ignorant and, to be honest, sometimes even I wonder how in the name of the universe he has so much power. But, let me be honest with you, Buddha. Because of this, he's fun to manipulate. But, don't tell anyone about that, yeah? Yeah! Alright, gotta go, bye! "
🍭 He was quite off-put when he asked Brunhilde about you, and when she said how dangerous and hideous of a being you were, he was confused, you were adorable and seemingly sweet
🍭 Your God-friend and you were some of the only Gods who voted for Humanity's safety, though, you both kept it to yourselves, not wishing to have a certain someone's rage on your asses
🍭 When Ragnarok commenced, you teleported to speak to Brunhilde, telling her your plan of siding with Humanity during the Gods' strongest point to break them down mentally, you did love to watch them struggle, after all!
🍭 After finding out that Buddha was siding with Humanity, you jumped down, causing many to believe you were fighting against him, but, when you announced your defect to their side, your father's rage knew no bounds
" Oh, father, just how much of an ignorant prick can you be? Humanity does have some, decent, qualities to them. And while I may never fully understand them, I will try my best to do so. Anyways, have fun fighting, my dear! "
🍭 Much like Shiva, he appreciates how much you try staying sane around him and the Human Fighters, it lets him know just how much you do care about him
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
Tumblr media
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
👑 When Qin first met you, it was because one of your father's minions accidentally caused mass destruction to his home, leaving many lives in ruin and an emperor very, very, upset
👑 You attending the small meeting with your father, though you spent your time screwing around with the nearby humans, causing the ruler to ignore your father's rambles of incoherentness
👑 While he initially disliked how unsettlingly cute yet sadistic you were, once he got to know you a bit better, thanks to some well-spent time on Earth by yourself, he began to see you for what you really were
👑 Being raised by such a cruel yet idiotic being, you really didn't have the best examples when it came to interactions with other brings, heck, you had some of the most horrendous relationships with your two siblings, Nameless Mist and Darkness
👑 During one of your first meetings while on decent terms, he asked you exactly what you were going to do, since he had heard about Ragnarok forming from one of the guards of his
" Ragnarok? It sounds pretty pathetic to me, honestly. Though, I suppose watching the smug smirks of those so called Gods fade would make me smile myself. I kid, I kid! Oh, you see right through me, emperor! Honestly, really it's a funny thing, but, I may side with Humanity in the downfall, you know how I am! "
👑 Qin disliked how cruel and hostile you were with pretty much anyone, but, when he noticed how much softer and seemingly polite you were with his fellow fighters, he would smile to himself
👑 You must really care about him if it meant you were trying to push back the only thing you ever knew behind just so he could be happier and not driven to the brink of insanity himself from stress
" Why am I so kind with the mortals? I figured I was being sneaky with my behavior, oh well! They're far weaker appearing then they really are, I suppose. And I respect that, to a degree. I'm not going soft, damn you! "
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
Tumblr media
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
🧪 Nikola Tesla, the man known on Earth as the 'Ultimate Mad Scientist of His Time', and his title alone was enough to interest you
🧪 Once you learned of where he resided in Valhalla, you took a small trip there, leaving a simply written note on the table your father sat at daily, and setting a straight-lined course there
🧪 He was just working on his newest invention when his doors slammed open, making him jump and snap his head back to see a fairly tall humanoid-being standing there
🧪 While he stared at you, you smiled and ran up to him, allowing your form to float above him and ask if he was indeed the human known as 'Nikola Tesla'
🧪 Once reassuring his identity, you began asking about his work, from how he made something so complicated look so seemingly simple, despite the multitude of horrendously long equation written on his chalkboard
🧪 Due to his own curiosity, Nikola had to push himself to ask who and what you were, in which you just laughed and answered him with a honey-coated voice
" Who am I? That's quite surprising, dearest mortal! I am Y/N, the offspring of the Outer God, Azathoth, and the God of Madness, at least in many's eyes I am. Humans are different creatures... ANYWAYS! How about you explain about that, uh, what did you call it again? Ah, yes! The electric engineering, how does that work again? "
🧪 Nikola was very off-put by how devoted you were to being by his side to learn everything he was working on, and, in all honesty, he kinda enjoyed having you around to speak to, it made him feel a little less lonely
🧪 While he was being scolded by Brunhilde for speaking to a God who was said to have only sided with Humanity to make them suffer at their own hands, he couldn't help but argue back with how you were far more gentle with his fellow scientists when working on his armory
" Brunhilde. While I agree with the fact that their father isn't ideal in the slightest, Y/N is going behind his and the multitude of Gods' backs just to help me and my fellow geniuses win Ragnarok. You may not trust them, but I do. Now, I recommend you leave before they arrive, it may get ugly, and I do not wish for their aura to destroy our hard work. "
209 notes · View notes
inksandpensblog · 6 months
Text
Four F's
As uncomfortable as this episode was to watch, there was something about Chosen's behavior in the most uncomfortable scenes that intrigued me. Not because of any hints it might give about Chosen's character, but because there was an element in these moments that I was surprised to see represented so starkly.
We all meme on Chosen for being traumatized, but this episode decided to play traumatization 100% seriously...even, I believe, going as far as to have Chosen display four of the recognized trauma responses.
Now, I say "four of" and not "the four" because sources actually disagree on how many there are, and even what they are and what to call them. Fight and Flight are the ones everyone knows about, and Freeze is getting more recognition nowadays, but there are many suggestions for what the fourth is, and some say that there are actually as many as five or six. Fawn, Friend, Flop, Flag, Fatigue, and Faint are all ones I've seen suggested, with some being different words used to describe the same phenomenon.
Throughout "The Box", it is my belief that Chosen displays the responses of Flight, Fight, Freeze, and Flop. It'll become clear why I chose Flop for the fourth one once we get there.
Chosen's first action upon realizing he's in the white chamber is to try and break out of it. This could be either Fight or Flight; if it's Flight, it's very Fight-y since he's attacking the walls, but if it's Fight, his intent is to leave the area so there's still Flight spurring him.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I considered that him simply standing there and taking Victim's opening punches without reacting might be a Freeze response, but I'm not sure he was actually that phased by what Victim was doing yet. He seems more nonplussed than anything; he doesn't dodge or block after taking Victim's hand and pushing it away the first time, his arms don't come up to defend, he isn't even in a fighting stance. At this point, the box itself- while not a threat he has the ability to combat at the time -is still a bigger threat than the random stick ineffectually hitting him for no reason he can discern.
Tumblr media
Still, at some point he decides he's had enough of being punched, and he goes to tackle Victim. This is him fighting back, but I don't know if it counts as the Fight response because Victim isn't the source of his stress (as far as he knows), it's the box they're both in...but it could be that being in the box has put strain on Chosen's tolerance, leading him to lose patience sooner or react more aggressively than he would've otherwise, which might quality it as Fighting. Another thing that makes me unsure is that Chosen's movements during this tackle read as being very deliberate and self-controlled. He made the choice to counterattack, with awareness of himself and his actions. He isn't acting on impulse, here, this action wasn't driven by instinct.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After this, Victim starts utilizing his environmental advantage, and Chosen gets knocked around a bit. Once he realizes that getting Victim to stop isn't gonna be as easy as he thought, he decides to Fight.
...but what actually follows seems to be a blend of Flight and Freeze. Victim's attacks are too fast for Chosen to block effectively, and he's kept busy trying to keep his guard up while Victim keeps finding the weak spots he leaves open. Victim's attacks are also strong enough now that the rapid blows might be disorienting Chosen; he's constantly attempting to move away from Victim, but they're purely reactive motions that are probably involuntary. He's trying so hard to get himself situated that he's unable to attempt any counterattacks, and Victim moves fast enough that even when Chosen does get a moment of reprieve, it isn't enough time for him to find his footing.
Tumblr media
(Brief interruption while I rag on him again for always falling for the sneak attacks. Always. Every single time. This man still has not learned to watch his back. Dark took advantage of it, Spyglasses or Shady or whatever we're calling him took advantage of it, and now Victim is too.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He ends up cornered, which...is usually the worst position one can be in during a conflict, but apparently having something to brace himself against was all he needed, because he's able to recover enough of his wits to actually start Fighting back. (It isn't the first time he's done this, either: think back to his fight against the vira-mech in Return.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Of course, it doesn't work, and he gets choked and thrown for his troubles, but he isn't out yet. Watch how he rolls after landing: he turns as he falls, so that his shoulder hits the ground first, and he takes the impact of every flip with his elbows, all while keeping his head from hitting the ground. He's going with the momentum of the throw, letting it carry him away from his opponent. This is tactical. He's still Fighting. When he slows to a stop, it takes little effort for him to prepare his next move.
The fire does nothing to deter Victim as he moves in to attack again, and Chosen gets knocked around a bit more. But unlike the first time he got knocked around in this fight, Chosen actually blocks and dodges this time, while still maintaining his guard, and even throws a few of his own punches.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Unfortunately, he's still unable to meet and counter all of Victim's attacks, and by this point in the fight he's exhausted enough to take the breather when the opportunity arises. But I don't believe this means he's stopped Fighting, because he only does this when there's a pause in the conflict, and he stands up of his own accord before the conflict resumes.
(Side note: either the lasso was invisible at first for some reason, or Victim started moving his arm in the twirling motion before the thing was actually in his hand, and I'm not sure what to do with either option.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chosen knows the lasso won't be a picnic, but his resolve to Fight doesn't diminish. (Though since his initial strategy is evasion, this could also be considered Flight until he's downed by the lasso.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
His attempt to outmaneuver the lasso with literal flight doesn't work, but even once he's been roped he's still Fighting. In an effort to loosen it from around his throat, he tries to take control of the slack by looping it over his shoulder, the same way Victim loops it around his own arms when pulling him in.
Victim's next punch sends him directly to the floor, and the combined forces of the blow and the impact of the fall (plus the aftereffects of choking right before this) seem to rattle Chosen enough to perhaps disorient him again; he slips into Flight as he tries to steady himself, moving away from Victim.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Unlike when the lasso was first brought out, the introduction of the whip causes Chosen to Freeze momentarily before pushing him deeper into Flight. He hears it crack, looks at it, looks at Victim, and then renews his attempt to crawl away. Putting distance between himself and his attacker takes precedence, even over getting his feet back under him.
Tumblr media
This trend continues after the first strike; the impact is enough to roll him over onto his back, and instead of trying to right himself or get into a more defensible position he just continues trying to get away from Victim, scooting backwards. There's no time to roll over or get up because he can barely get his limbs out of the way in time as Victim keeps pace with him, advancing as Chosen retreats.
And then, we come to the moment that first made me realize what was happening...
Tumblr media
...the literal Freeze. Though I suppose it could also be read as a form of Flight, since Victim can't follow him into the ice. But still, he's immobilized by fear, though not in the traditional sense, as the cause of immobility is external rather than internal. Fortunately, he's also protected until he's had time to process what's happening and determine how he wants to combat it. He has, temporarily, escaped. The ice also renders the lasso ineffective. Depending on whether you read this as Chosen quickly shifting tactics after losing his fire or purposefully misleading with fire so the shift to ice would be unanticipated, this could even be another form of Fight, one which buys himself time to recuperate.
Because when Victim attacks the ice, he bursts out in full-on Fight mode, destroying the lasso in the process. He manages to evade each of the following attacks, and the one time he's grabbed he manages to break free of the hold. But he forgets to watch his back (AGAIN!!!) and gets roped once more.
Tumblr media
Even so, he continues to Fight, attacking Victim directly this time instead of trying to gain control over the lasso. Even his own fire being used against him isn't enough to break him out of Fighting, though afterwards he does switch back to trying to take control of the rope...and this time, he actually gets enough command over the slack to have Victim's own shuriken slice clean through it, freeing himself enough to pull his even more impressive reversed-fire attack. (And he actually closed the distance between himself and Victim before attacking, so he's definitely in Fight mode here.)
Unfortunately, this attack is also nullified, and once he's released he's exhausted again.
This is when the fourth response comes in.
Now, I hadn't realized what I was seeing, at first, so I didn't clue in to the fourth response until after it had already started. I'd wondered why he didn't try to correct his balance when Victim threw him into the chair, as even if he was too tired to resist force that was no reason to just let himself hang off the lasso like that; it would behoove him more to lean forward. So I rewound a bit, to see if I had missed anything. And I had.
He doesn't have the wherewithal to pick himself up or even move out of the way before Victim lifts him up. So his hands fly up to Victim's hold on his throat and he struggles—
and then he stops. And he's still, the whole time the chair is being placed.
For the rest of the scene, from the moment Victim moves to throw him onto the chair (and barring the one time he gives Victim his attention and his intermittent attempts to struggle whenever he thinks he has an opportunity, because bless him he's still Fighting), he's completely limp.
Is it his exhaustion? Partially, but I don't believe that's the only reason.
You see, he's actually not completely limp. If you watch, anytime there's an abrupt movement, there's a moment where he's not as loose-limbed as he could be, before he relaxes and goes even looser.
True, it might be exhaustion that pushed him to this point...but this isn't merely a lack of energy. Whether instinctual reflex or deliberate choice...this is the Flop response.
Look at how his body acts, when he is moved. Look how his limbs swing, responding to even the tiniest brush of force, as if he doesn't control them. Look how he does nothing to oppose or avoid any sort of imposition. Look how he literally Flops, without any hint of self-direction.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He's ragdolling.
Tumblr media
Yeah, remember that short? It's a trauma-response now.
That's pretty much the end of it. Chosen ragdolls, aka Flops, for the rest of the video, except for a few brief moments that I consider to be him still Fighting. Because even when it seems like he's succumbed, he hasn't completely. He's still biding his time, staying alert for opportunities.
181 notes · View notes
yuu-kumeii · 6 months
Text
A/N : I swear this is just a Kiyoomi drabble, the set up just got a tiny bit too long
Tumblr media
Ok so imagine the MSBY 4 having to make a 'day in the life of' type vlog for a promotion for an upcoming game, event, or collab. Where everyone can take turns holding the camera and vlog about their individual days and routines, so the whole video would be like a compilation vlog showcasing the team in their purest form.
Shoyo and Koutaro will absolutely just ramble on camera about every little thing that happened to them, often getting distracted when it's their turn with the camera. At times both are just going on about their mornings when either one of them holds the camera while the other 2 members just walk in silence behind them.
Being able to capture moments like Kou forgetting he's supposed to put the camera on the bench to get good enough shots of their practice, so the shots of their practice were from far away with a clear blur to it or when Shoyo accidentally dropped the handheld, picked it back up quickly and immediately apologized to the coach while offering to pay for it despite nothing being actually broken. All caught on camera, blurry figures and a lot of fast camera shakes.
Out of the 2, Kou is the one who most likely forgets the next thing he's going to talk about because he was focused on the current topic. He may be older but that doesn't mean he changed all that much, it's still ok though, the marketing department in charge of the editing said it makes him look all the more approachable.
Meanwhile, Shoyo is the 'golden boy' of this vlog. He's energetic, humble, kind, encouraging and he has just the type of face that screams 'We look forward to your support! I promise we won't let you down!'. He also does the same things Kou does, but he gets visibly flustered when he forgets. Everyone would find that cute, the marketing team just knew it.
He and Kou are on the same basis in terms of the 'pure and lovable one people just can't help but support' but they're on different wavelengths.
Kou appeals to the crowd that just craves this type of whimsy and fast paced energy, someone who forgets to think before he does most things but will be the most visibly sincere about apologizing that you can't help but forgive him.
While Shoyo appeals to a more mellowed out side, much like Kou but he's a bit more aware of his actions and surroundings. He does have his moments though and that paired with his pure hearted nature just makes it sweeter to watch.
On the other hand, you have Atsumu and Kiyoomi. Two very different players with very different appeals on camera, yet able to have some of the best back and forths throughout the vlog.
Atsumu, to no one's surprise, will try to capitalize every part of the screen. Whenever it's his turn to hold the camera, it's his turn. So much happens in such a short amount of time that it felt like he was on a multi-week reality show and not a one day vlog, he would go on and on about himself and his life story that it's hard not to feel like you've known the guy your whole life at that point.
Not to mention the amount of mishaps he tries to shake off is enough for his fans to make an entire compilation video. It's so much fun to see Atsumu trip, stagger that clearly shows he was caught off guard, then going back to vlogging on camera like nothing happened while the others laugh behind him. Other notable things were Kiyoomi 'accidentally' serving a ball straight into the back of Tsumu's head while he was explaining his routine on camera and Atsumu also accidentally dropping the camera but instead of admitting it he just pretends nothing happened.
Too bad the editing crew decided to keep that little moment in the video.
One last tidbit that showed Atsumu being just as caring as the sunshine pair was his 'attempt' at subtly promoting Onigiri Miya throughout his parts, emphasis on attempt. Because he would say things like,
"I like ta' go to Onigiri Miya sometimes, cause' I gotta brag to Samu' about another win ya' know? The food 's also good,"
"Is this an ad for Onigiri Miya?"
"...No"
Yeah, no one believes him. But it's so cute, watching him deny every accusation that he wants to brag about his twin's accomplishments as much as his own. Samu definitely put in extra fatty tuna in Tsumu's onigiri for that, don't tell him that though.
And lastly Kiyoomi, your boyfriend and very captivating volleyball player of the MSBY Black Jackals.
Every time he's on-screen, it's just a whole different energy. Calm and collected with minimal words, a drastic difference from the many life stories you get from the others, Kiyoomi prefers to be as vague and general as possible. However, even if his talking is minimal, he still manages to have some of the funniest shots in the video. Courtesy of the other members helping to fill Kiyoomi's segments.
Though the one moment you can say will stick with you, and him, til the day you probably get married (hopefully, fingers crossed). So, each of the boys have a little clip that encapsulates each of their characters and dynamics with each other. Those moments include Shoyo and Koutaro having a little game of rock-paper-scissors in the corner of the gym, everyone trying to imitate Kiyoomi's bendy wrist, 3/4 of the MSBY 4 getting reprimanded by Meian while the rest just watch with smug looks.
All the best moments that show how close they are in a little montage. The moment you're referring to, is this clip of the Jackal's gym. Empty and quiet, the lights are still on and everything is in its place. There, in the corner on a bench, is Kiyoomi sitting by himself. Munching on some dried plums from this little white packet, just sitting there.
It's not something you can explain but seeing him there alone, not to mention the way it was shot that made him look teeny tiny, just about did it for you. The second that clip was shown, you were gone, sent to the sky never to return.
He just looked so small and alone, it's so sad but it's so funny to you. It gives you the uncontrollable urge to coo at him and kick your feet a little, the b roll of the shot just slowly panning towards his little big figure on that bench minding his own business.
He's so little, so cute, so by himself in that gym and he's so going to be your fiance because you want that clip played in your guys' engagement party as one of your reasons to marry him.
312 notes · View notes
katy-l-wood · 3 months
Text
Disasters in Film: The eras of disasters in film.
Here we go! The first in a series of posts I'm going to do giving my thoughts on the college course I'm taking this semester about disasters in film. I made a post with the film list and reading list as well, which you can check out here.
Also. One of the professors teaching this course LOVES quotes. And I mean loves them. 90% of his presentations are just quotes that he then rambles about. So be prepared for lots of quotes in this series. 😂
And I'll open this up with the same image the professors did, which is an image from the Mayfield Kentucky tornado. Because damn is it fitting and evocative:
Tumblr media
This is a theater that was damaged by a tornado, revealing the world outside the theater while leaving the interior of the theater itself untouched. The photo was taken by Shawn Triplett.
And a quote:
“Disaster is one of the oldest subjects of art.. It is concerned with the aesthetics of destruction with the peculiar beauties to be found in wreaking havoc.” —Susan Sontag, The Imagination of Disaster
Now, onto my thoughts on the eras of disaster! We covered the basics, obviously, which is that we started off with biblical disaster movies in the 20s and then swung into more exaggerated/"imagined" stuff. Then in the 50s and 60s we kind of swung back to biblical and historical stuff for a bit before going back to exaggerated/"imagined" stuff like aliens and monsters. Then, of course, we had the big resurgance in the 70s which moved away from aliens and monsters and that sort of destruction and swung more towards natural disasters and using them to frame various discussions of class and the real world. The 80s were dominated by action disaster movies with lots of focus on remasculinization of America (aka sweaty men with their shirts off kicking ass). Then in the 90s we just went in all fucking in on completely destroying the world. There were 83 disaster movies released in the 90s, with 21 of them being released in 1998 alone.
And then we've got 9/11. Now, the professor's have stated that we'll talk more about pre-9/11 and post-9/11 disaster movies later, but what I found interesting here is that the professor stopped separating the decades after this. We just went from the 90s to the 21st century as a whole. Which felt weird. We're nearly 1/4 into this! There's two complete decades of it so far! I think we can at least make some broad strokes generalizations about the sort of differences in disaster movies in each of those decades.
But, with that said, I do wonder if the lack of breaking it down farther stems from the sort of cultural stall we're in as a whole. This has been talked about a lot in other realms, such as how quickly fashion trends turn over to the point they hardly count as trends anymore. The same could, potentially, be said of disaster movies. I'm actually tempted to sit down and try and figure it out, to see if I could put a specific trend to 00's and 10's disaster films, but I haven't had the chance yet.
Then, of course, we have the fact that Hollywood is pretty broken right now. Obsessed with remakes and churning out the same content over and over again. Killing unique studios left and right. Constant layoffs. Terrible treatment of its workers. Etc. Etc. Might that also speak to our lack of easily discernible trends in disaster movies?
Either way, it's interesting!
79 notes · View notes
apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year
Text
RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
────────────────────
Tumblr media Tumblr media
────────────────────
“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)
| 2k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.
Tumblr media
Jason stays largely impassive as Alfred checks him out. The only “wounds” he actually managed to obtain were two long surface level cuts from a buff guy with a lucky knife, the mildest limp known to man, and some bruises. He’s got bigger stuff to worry about than what little damage he took.
Somehow Mask had gotten wind that Hood had set his eyes on his most recent purchase and had responded by borrowing some of Penguin's men while the man was in court, catching Jason off guard. That either meant that Jason was getting sloppy or his collective had a mole.
A goddamn mole. Whoever it was must’ve been stupid or crazy to think they could get this over his head. Now he’ll have to deal with them, and soon, before he starts on any more plans.
There’s a pat on his arm that has Jason turning his head.
“There you go, Master Jason. Hardly a scratch and everything is treated.”
“Didn’t pay all this money on armor to get a scratch from a whole buncha pocket knives and baseball bats, Alfred.”
The old butler only raises a brow.
“Yes well, a particularly nasty bullet wound in Master Dick’s leg says anything is possible on a given day. Armor or no,” Alfred points to the two raised lines on either side of his forearms where he’d blocked that buff guy's slash for his face. “And clearly some fellow with a pocket knife did get a knick or two in.”
Jason shrugs. The guy had been aiming for his face. His face that had only been a target because he’d blown up the old helmet to catch Batman’s attention and his forearms and following Bruce’s rules were a small price to pay for those kids' safety.
“Still beat him though, so I think I’m good,” he spares the man a small fleeting smile.
Alfred worried too much over Bruce. Jason didn’t want him doing the same and stressing overtime about him as well.
“Of course,” Alfred says softly, patting him on the arm once more before turning to check up on whether Dick’s gotten enough food in him to get another dose of the good stuff.
Why the man had decided to fly off to help Jason when he was already injured was anybody's guess. Jason certainly wasn’t going to think about it too hard. His feelings around Dick were enough of a nightmare to detangle.
Jason’s ready to take that as his leave, wanting out before Nightfall and Batman - or godforbid, his replacement - throw his entire mood away, when a lone figure comes ambling into the Cave on foot and sends everyone on alert.
Dick hobbles rather gracefully for someone with a hole in his calf over to the Batcomputer to check the entrance cameras. Alfred admonishes him for putting too much pressure on his leg so soon after he’s reopened his stitches but follows after him nonetheless.
Jason closes in not far behind the two, hand hovering over his gun as he eyes the lone figure. They’re not in a rush or anything, that’s for sure. He’s never seen someone who wanted to kill him have such low gumption.
It hits him and he relaxes his hand a second before you call out.
“It’s me, guys! I just needed a break from Bruce so I walked!”
Your voice is different, he notes. Hoarse, fraying at the edges. Jason is intimately familiar with the feeling of falling apart. At Bruce’s hand too no less, which is undoubtedly why you're walking instead of pulling up with him. He can’t find it in him to feel too bad though. You might’ve taken a bullet for him but you were still a dick.
Alfred takes to guiding you towards the med bay, talking to you like you’re old friends, but Jason’s never seen you before outside of tonight. As far as he knew the only female vigilante operating out of Gotham had been Batgirl before that fucking clown got to her too, and the only other woman of the house didn’t live here anymore.
Which is yet another thing Jason really doesn’t want to think about. He had felt pretty damn vindicated to learn about Y/n’s separation from Bruce until he pieced together the timeline and that the most likely cause for the split had been himself. He can admit to feeling bad about that for her sake. When he was a boy her and Bruce had seemed happy, he didn't want to be the cause of that ending for the woman.
Something harsh strikes through his chest and he forces his gaze off Nightfall and Alfred.
He needed to tell Y/n. She deserved to know - he wanted her to know! - he just didn’t want to deal with the inevitable. With Bruce the uncertainty pissed him off. He had needed the truth so bad it burned through him harsher than the pit snapping his mind back together ever could.
Problem was that in the end the answer had actually hurt. For all his speculations and phantom conversations with the man he once happily called “dad” none had been enough to prepare him for the reality of watching his father choose The Mission over him in real time.
Maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment of the situation but to that Jason says: “So what?”
Maybe Bruce did love him, and maybe what made him throw that batarang wasn’t resentment or disappointment, but he still threw it. Through everything Jason still came second and Bruce still didn’t love him enough to fight for him.
He can’t keep ignoring that it wasn’t him that drew Bruce to Ethiopia that April; it was the Joker that drew Batman. Bruce hadn’t even been looking for him, and he could understand why, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay with it.
Either way, the little boy Jason used to be had stupidly expected to be proven wrong in that dilapidated apartment building.
Jason hasn’t listened to that particular ghost since having to hold his throat together.
“Red!”
He blinks back into himself to find the rest of him already in a defensive position at Dick Nightwing’s proximity.
“I’ve got some files for you if you’re interested. We haven’t been able to figure out what all Mask’s recent moves have meant, but if you cross reference it with whatever info you’ve got maybe…” the look he sends Jason feels pointed so he huffs and moves closer.
“I’ll be able to catch him up. Yeah, Wing, thanks.” He crosses his arms and raises a brow. “Whatdya want for it?”
Nightwing turns to him slowly. “Nothing. I don’t want a damn thing, Red,” he shrugs. “Consider it a favor.”
“Right. A favor.”
Jason doesn’t buy that that’s all he wants for a second. The more plausible reason is that the harddrive he’ll be given is bugged. So far they haven’t been able to find any of his operation and he knows Bruce has been chomping at the bit to find out what hole in the wall he crawls into at night.
His line of speculation gets cut off by Nightwing starting to prattle along about the contents of every file he’s giving him.
“I figure I could give you an update on Penguin’s case while you’re here too,” he glances back for Jason’s stiff nod before doing just that.
Jason half pays attention to flashes of Cobblepot taking the stand while largely doing his best to remember which of his guys ever worked closely with the man who’s nice and calm being held under public scrutiny.
It was City Hall’s worst kept secret that they were bought out by some big boss or the other. Cobblepot wouldn’t be convicted and they all knew it. Gotham’s politicians couldn’t ever leave well enough alone though and just had to go the extra mile of broadcasting their cities inner failings to the rest of the country.
“Hey.”
At the sound of his voice Jason immediately snaps his gaze to Nightwing. He doesn’t look back this time, eyes continuing to stay focused on the batcomputer’s giant screen.
“I just wanna say the offer still stands. Jay,” his name comes off rough from the other’s mouth. “I might not…agree with what you’re doing, but call me and I’ll be there, okay? My number’s still the same. If you remember it?”
The not-glance Nightwing sends him makes his throat constrict suspiciously. This was exactly why he was avoiding the acrobat. He’s all the more glad he decided to get a replacement instead of toughing this encounter out sans helmet.
“Yeah, I remember it,” he forces out.
“Good.” Nightwing continues, voice still oddly pinched while he drops another file into the harddrive’s folder. “That’s good.”
The trial tapers off after that and Grayson stops drawing out their conversation, closing out the tabs he’d opened and leaning over to snatch out the drive.
When he turns to him the older’s face is noticeably paler than before and his hands are clammy when he gives Jason his lackluster reward for putting up with the night’s bullshit.
He forces his arms down to his sides when Grayson stumbles into the table, no doubt bruising his hip, before stabilizing himself again with a tiny laugh. Jason will never admit that as much as it irritates him, he still admires the way Grayson manages to keep the sound from cracking at the edges.
Ever the fucking paragon.
“Thanks,” he nods to the medbay where Alfred and Nightfall are talking as she’s bandaged up. “And go lay down already before you collapse. I will laugh at you if you fall.”
“Heh, yeah, I’d better,” he runs his hand through his hair. “If I pass out again mom’ll kill me.”
Dick’s hand pauses midway through his hair and Jason can tell from the way he goes rigid that his eyes have snapped to where he’s standing.
He huffs, shoves the drive in his pocket and gives the older a mock salute before turning on his heels. On another day he’d probably harp on Grayson for the carelessness, make him squirm just for the hell of it, but he’s reached his people index for the day and he’s got work to do.
His second mother - not counting Sheila and her shitty cigarettes; he hopes she rots - is also someone he does not want to keep being reminded of and staying here will clearly be nothing but that.
She’s a subject he unfortunately can’t stop thinking about now though and he’s so over it his head’s starting to pound.
‘mom’ll kill me.’
Mom.
Y/n.
Jason counts his way through a deep breath. He’s got Nightwing’s information, now he can leave to start sorting his own mess with his people the Bat-Refuted way.
With Y/n he wasn’t going to let himself exist with a child's placations that maybe she’d prove him wrong. He already made that mistake with Bruce. She was his mom. In the same way Bruce was once his dad, but he’s not fifteen anymore and he no longer believes wholeheartedly in the second chance they’d provided. He can’t.
But still, for whatever bastardized mockery of life is in him, he doesn’t want the truth from Y/n as well. So no matter how much he craves to hear her voice again and feel her arms around him, the chances that she’ll reject the son Bruce forced upon her this time round were too high and he was tired of gambling.
He should rip the bandaid off sooner rather than later though, for his sake if nothing else. He wasn’t finished with Gotham yet and all the ‘what ifs’ stampeding over his train of thought could get him killed too early.
Again.
And nobody wants to read about another dead gutter rat who thought he could fly.
…TBC
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! This chapter is supposed to be a brief slow down before I get back into the emotional gutter with part five.
I’m like 50/50 on this. I was trying to make everything connect but I don’t really think I succeeded. And what I mean by that is that some of Jason’s thought processes don’t flow smoothly into one another the way I want, but I’m tired of poking at it so this is what y’all get.
Regardless, I’m not mad at it and if you’d like to leave a comment that’d be appreciated, but I won’t respond cause this is a sideblog. I read everything though. 🫶🏾
Edited (cause I forgot what I wrote) on 3/18/23
722 notes · View notes
potahun · 5 months
Text
Mysterious Lotus Casebook and the Analogies to Being Queer
this is not breaking new grounds or anything, there seems to be broad consensus in the (tumblr) fandom that LHL is a lot about being queer. there is also this brilliant meta by @seventh-fantasy about the jianghu being a queer space, which i love, and which dealt with the gender perspective for li lianhua in particular
having that in mind, i want to say how much i love that li lianhua and fang duobing's stories feel like analogies to two different queer experiences
Tumblr media
we see li xiangyi in a few flashbacks and in how others viewed him before the east sea battle 10 years ago. we know he became the n°1 swordsman in the world, established a para-judiciary system and order in an otherwise lawless jianghu, that he used to duel just to win the right to pick flowers from someone's garden as gifts for every single lady in the sigu sect, and that he dated qiao wanmian and intended to marry her (judging by that flashback where he's seen drinking with shan gudao and the boys)
a lot of it is very heteronormative, and even a bit performative. and i don't want to say it's not genuine, i actually rly like the idea that many of those actions felt perfectly real to him at the time, and i genuinely think he had that show-off streak in him when he was a teenager
but regardless, everything about li xiangyi follows the heteronormative expectations of society, including his achievements, which command, among other things, admiration for his fighting prowess and his ability to establish rules. which is of course, ironic, as pointed out in the meta referenced above, since the jianghu itself does not follow those rules (and we slowly learn in the story that there was criticism of him for this even in-story).
but then we get to li lianhua, who does not fight, but cooks, learned to sew, to plant flowers, turns down every lady who looks his way, and who does not interfere in jiang hu matters if he can help it. and in particular, we get the conversation he has with qiao wanmian in ep 18, where she confronts him about his identity and asks him:
"if you'd already come back, why did you never reunite with us?"
and his reply is:
"all of this is so far in the past, now. i'm very tired. i just want to be free."
Tumblr media
li lianhua is constantly put in contrast with li xiangyi. where li xiangyi performs, li lianhua just exists in the jianghu. where li xiangyi fulfils expectations and surpasses them, li lianhua turns his back to expectations. where li xiangyi establishes a domain and protects, li lianhua wanders freely, all by himself. where li xiangyi conforms to heteronormative standards, li lianhua doesn't.
we know that li lianhua is an unreliable narrator in that his opinion on his own past is biased, his knowledge incomplete. and he lies. almost compulsively. but there are also truth bombs that he drops between the lies. i personally believe that his willingness to detach himself from all the expectations thrown upon him and to finally exist away from norms, is part of those truths.
and this is very close to a type of queer experience, where you come out of some event or another in your twenties, suddenly realise you're queer and oh my god, it's time to live differently. and you start rejecting the norms and maybe your old friends wonder what got into you.
in the same conversation in ep 18, the following exchange happens between li lianhua and qiao wanmian:
LLH: "when we met each other, I was young and ignorant. I didn't understand what the feelings i felt for you were, either." QWM: "what do you mean? are you saying... you never loved me?" LLH: "back then, we were young. nothing of what we said then can still count now."
it can be interpreted in different ways, but it sure fits a queer narrative extremely well. the feelings were real, but he didn't understand whether they were romantic or not, he just followed the norms. but things are different now.
enters fang duobing
Tumblr media
fang duobing feels like a different queer narrative. by family background, fang duobing is a person who has equal ties to the imperial court as he does to the jiang hu. the emperor and his family wants to engage him to the princess of the court, a perfectly normal thing in the societal context he lives in, and a luck few can hope to have. what does he do?
flee
i often joke that fang duobing's sexuality is to be a detective on the jianghu, but it really does feel like that kind of narrative. fang duobing never has any doubt that his place is away from the rules of the imperial court. In ep. 1, he tells his servants:
don't worry. once your young master makes a name for himself as a renown detective on the jianghu, they {his parents} will understand that, compared to the imperial court, i am much more suited for the jiang hu.
and yes, this is about escaping the rigidity of the court as such, but it's also analogous for the freedom to be who you are, to be queer, to not conform.
and fang duobing never backtracks. his parents want him to conform, and they want him to have the comfort that comes with this lifestyle. he rejects it thoroughly and consistently.
it's also interesting that in ep 25, once they meet the princess and they have gone through a case together, fang duobing still rejects the idea of the wedding. when li lianhua tells him "the jianghu is a place full of grudges and sinister schemes. why not become a carefree consort prince?"
Tumblr media
fang duobing only looks forlorn and retorts "li lianhua, can you never say that again, please?"
in contrast, though, he has no qualms planning his whole life on the jianghu with li lianhua in ep. 15. so this is not about settling down with someone.
it feels very close to being confidently queer and knowing it from a very early age, and then rejecting the heteronormative expectations thrown upon you with assurance.
...
anyway, so what i want to say is: li lianhua is a tired millenial who discovered he was queer in his mid-twenties after a mild depression; fang duobing is a gen-z baby queer who doesn't know his queer history but is so confidently queer and he's never looking back
112 notes · View notes
layzeal · 2 years
Text
MDZS Audio Drama Listening Guide
AKA Lace has listened to the Audio Drama an unholy amount of times and might as well put her knowledge to good use
Tumblr media
(Suibian Subs) (NanaBeingNana) (Episode Guide by pumpkinpaix) (Purchasing guide for iOS)
NOTE: This is my own, personal opinion on what’s the preferable order to watch the MDZS Audio Drama extras.
The AD is by far the most accurate adaptation we have, and not only it follows the novel 1:1, it adds quite a lot of content that had only been left implied or left off-screen in the original text. However, there are also some events that do happen in the novel, but had to be put aside in an extra episode, either because of time restraints or for the sake of pacing. So, I’ve tried to set up this list to compensate it! The order is either based on at which point we learn such events in the novel, or if this event isn’t in the text, then it’s based on what I believe the best time to listen to the extra would be.
If you feel overwhelmed by the amount of extras and don’t know where to start, hold my hand and i’ll show you the way (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و
(The letters with an * after some episodes names refer to Gacha Episode tiers, collected by SuibianSubs. I’ve just put it there so you can more easily find it on the folders.)
Season 1
Episode 1
Chance Encounter (N*)
Episode 2
Episode 3
No
Episode 4
Escape
Make-up (link)
Good Fortune (SSR*)
Sleeping Together
Episode 5
Instant Success (SR*)
Autumn Wind and Dewdrops (R*)
Female Cultivators
Beard
Paper Balls
Invinting Friends (SSR*)
Fear of Dogs
Cultivation Through Meditation (R*)
Episode 6
Loquat
Ants
Taking Responsibility for One’s Actions (R*)
Deciding When It's Time (R*)
Better to Not Make Enemies (N*)
Longing to Speak Yet Unable to (R*)
Keeping Rabbits
Episode 7
Eating Watermelon
Simple Mindedness (N*)
Episode 8
Startled and Shocked (N*)
Gifting a Dog
Be Adaptable to Circumstances (R*)
Episode 9
Lamentations Over Injustice (N*)
Episode 10
Director
Overwhelmed by an Unexpected Favour (SR*)
Episode 11
Combined Efforts (R*)
Glutinous Rice
Episode 12
Preach To Impart Knowledge (R*)
Season 2
Episode 1
Caught Unaware (N*)
Things Remain but People Change (N*)
Articulate (R*)
Episode 2
Parting Ways (N*)
Episode 3
Episode 4
Flower Damsel
To Gain a Sharp Edge (R*)
First Meeting with Wen Ning
Episode 5
The Game of Life (R*)
The Adventures of Paperman Xian
Episode 6
Washing Clothes
Completely Incompatible (R*)
Episode 7
Flower Banquet
Episode 8
Carefree (R*)
Powerless (N*)
Episode 9
Lotus Seeds
Episode 10
Happy to Help Others (SR*)
Founder Story
Episode 11
Dulcet Melody (R*)
Lap Pillow
Episode 12
Yunmeng Youths
Episode 13
Episode 14
Episode 15
Wavering Heart (R*)
Episode 16
Childhood
Cutting Melon
Season 3
Episode 1
Filled with Noble Aspirations and Courage
Delivering Soup
Duplicity (N*)
Episode 2
Tossing Flowers
Drunk
Episode 3
Episode 4
Episode 5
Planting Radishes
Simple and Naive (R*)
Take Root (R*)
Episode 6
Helping Others (R*)
Mending a Relationship (SR*)
Love Letter
Daydream (R*)
Episode 7
Episode 8
Episode 9
A-Yuan and Rabbits
Episode 10
Episode 11
Episode 12
A Lost Desire (N*)
Episode 13
Episode 14
Episode 15
Episode 16
Episode 17
Novel Extras
Family Banquet
Into the dream 1, 2 and 3
Villainous Friends
Lose Money to Do Away with Misfortune (N*)
Leaving a Mark (R*)
From Dawn to Dusk
Intrusion
Iron Hook
Lotus Seed Pod
Dream Come True
Miscellaneous Extras
These are extras that don’t particularly fit into the list, or would feel disruptive and awkward when placed somewhere there, so i’ve decided to set them in a different list. You may watch them after you’re finished with the other episodes, in whatever order you wish!
Bogao Gifting a Swan (SR*)
Out with the Old In with the New (SSR*)
Respect Between Spouses (SR*)
Matchmaking
Harmonious as the Lute and Psaltery (SSR*)
Following Heart's Desire (R*)
Flying Thoughts (SR*)
Always Remain Smiling (R*)
Accompanying You to Sleep: Lan Qiren
Accompanying You to Sleep: Wei Wuxian
Accompanying You to Sleep: Lan Wangji
Sound Asleep (SR*) - (The JC version of the ones above)
Chilli Pepper (N*)
Disputes From Gossips (N*)
Oof! I think that’s it! Thank you for your patience haha, and I hope you enjoy the Audio Drama as much as I do! Remember to please purchase it on the official app if you’re able!
1K notes · View notes
crowleyholmes · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bonus:
Tumblr media
Don't mind me, I was just thinking about how Crowley must feel every time Aziraphale seems to put him in a box with the rest of hell. I know he tells him he's nice and kind and good and his friend just as many times or more, but still - after 6000 years of friendship and Doing The Right Thing together, it must have hurt when Aziraphale told him he's evil, and then even more when he told him you're the bad guys.
I just find it sooo interesting to look into every instance of Aziraphale talking about Crowley in either way. I want to take his thought process apart and study it under a microscope. We know that he knows that Crowley isn't evil, and we know that Crowley knows that he knows, and we (and Crowley) know that Aziraphale (up until a certain point) is just incredibly Heaven-brainwashed and it's hard for him to break out of that unless there's a situation at hand that requires Direct Action (see giving away the flaming sword to protect Adam and Eve, or protecting Job's children, or helping Elspeth to help Dalrymple, or stopping the Apocalypse).
How does he travel the world and the ages with Crowley and still somehow manage to call him evil with any level of seriousness? He is so convinced that all demons are evil, and at the same time he knows that Crowley's fall was unjust and a mistake and Crowley is NOT evil, but Crowley is a demon, but he's good and kind and nice and just, and Aziraphale sometimes struggles with that. Not consciously, I think, consciously he loves Crowley and trusts him and knows him well enough to see beyond angel/demon good/evil black and white thinking, but sometimes thoughts slip out of his mouth that are just. So far removed from what we know he knows.
He believes so strongly, in two things that could not be more mutually exclusive, and it's so fascinating. There's a lot of growth in that regard over the course of the series, we know that by the end of season 2 when he's talking to the Metatron, he is very clear in stating that his priority and his loyalty lie with Crowley, not with heaven. And I hold firm to my belief that he is going to Heaven because That's The Right Thing To Do, because he believes he can Make Things Better, for everybody, yes, but most importantly for Crowley. For the two of them!!
And YET. AND YET "you're the bad guys" somehow comes out of his mouth, when Crowley has Never really been a part of hell, and has always wanted to do the right thing for as long as Aziraphale has known him, and has been free of hell for Years now.
Still, Crowley is a Demon, and Demons Are Evil, angels and demons are hereditary enemies, right?
Except.... it's a little different when it's someone you know, isn't it?
105 notes · View notes
decalcominia · 5 months
Text
this is going to sound biased because not gonna lie I am indeed biased but the pain of sio finding out tsetseg is namsoon felt so personal I just need to vent a little.
In my opinion, if they (sio/namsoon) were the main couple in this show, it would've been so much more complex and intriguing because of how different they are from each other and how in the progression of the storyline they would've changed each other.
on one hand, we have sio, who pretty much just sees the worst in people, is individualistic, doesn't trust anyone and is just a textbook villain since he doesn't necessarily feel bad about his actions either and will do anything to achieve what he wants.
on the other hand, we have namsoon who just screams sunshine in person; she wants to help people and believes that there is good in basically everyone. She doesn't shy away from trusting people and is a very bright and friendly girl who doesn't differentiate between them.
both also have their strong beliefs and principles that they stick to which is, to be honest just a result of their past and, well, in sio's case a result of his trauma. He had to fight to survive and basically earn his right to live, experiencing everything a child shouldn't and being raised in the worst conditions and environment possible, while namsoon, apart from her birth parents much like sio, still got to experience a, let's say, "normal" childhood with loving parents and basically witnessed life always from the bright side, very far removed of the darkness of it all.
now imagine if they had put these two together and how complex their storyline would've been. One conflict would be her first impression of him, which is that he is inherently bad, because as I mentioned, he is the textbook villain, and after hearing of what he did, alongside her mother and everyone else, she too would be convinced he is bad and they're the good ones, which if you look at the bigger picture without considering why he does all of it, is the truth
That being said, another conflict would be their personalities. One would think that because they are on opposing sides of a spectrum, they wouldn't get along at all but looking at the content we got of them being together, despite his personality and principles, namsoon managed to become a safety zone for sio. If they had been the main couple, their time together would slowly conflict namsoon from within because what she personally sees of him, does not match the definition of a villain, therefore confusing her as she proceeds to see his point of view but still being unsure because she also has duties to go after (which is to expose him and his deeds):
and finally, it would take a long time for her to actually see and understand him, but she would eventually understand why he has done the things (and eventually find out his motive as well which is possibly just to find binbin. Idk if that's his actual motive but after today's ep I feel like it is.) and realize that there is some darkness to life but also that nothing is just black and white, good or bad.
and just like how sio influenced her beliefs, she too would help him to change his mind about people, that there are some he can trust and find comfort in (much like how she has so far).
This has gotten so much longer than I expected but all I'm trying to say is that to me personally, their relationship has much more depth and difficulty that would've been amazing to see them work through. All I'm gonna do now is submit into delusion and hope they pull a love alarm in the last three eps or just write some fanfiction.
48 notes · View notes
cl0wncandies · 9 months
Text
breast cancer show ever is my favorite south park episode. i think that the whole plot line that sets up the fight scene in last few minutes of the episode makes it even more satisfying to watch cartman get the snot beaten out of him in the end.
cause first off, before this episode aired, there wasn’t really any point in the show where cartman truly got what he deserved. yeah some bad things had happened to him before, but he’s never truly gotten any form of karma for his actions.
Tumblr media
so when wendy says that she’s gonna fight him. he doesn’t take it all that seriously, just he expects to either easily win the fight or for wendy to back out before the end of the school day.
Tumblr media
and then at lunch he realizes that if he loses the fight, everyone will think he’s a massive loser. what makes this even funnier is that cartman genuinely believes that he’s “the cool kid” and that everyone likes him. so his fear of losing a fight to a girl (which is a big deal for fourth graders) makes him desperate to prevent it from happening, without apologizing in front of everyone of course.
Tumblr media
so now cartman does literally everything in his power to stop the fight before the school day ends.
he tries to apologize to wendy in private, without confessing that he was wrong in front of everyone.
he tries bribing her with money, and even goes as far as to eat his own underwear.
and near the end of the school day, he’s so desperate to get out of the fight that he goes up to his teachers desk and takes a dump on it in front of the whole class so he would get a detention. and then the fight was moved to the next morning. he wasn’t out of the fight yet he had time to find another strategy to stop wendy from beating the shit out of him.
Tumblr media
cartman then goes full tattletale mode and tells his mom a sob story of how wendy is bullying him at school, and how we just wants to be her friend. he even takes the extra mile to put a fancy cardigan on and comb his hair over to make himself look even more sad and pathetic.
so obviously wendys parents are like “hey don’t fight this kid” and she finally gives up.
Tumblr media
now, if cartman had just stopped there, he probably would’ve gotten away with his actions like he normally has up to this point in the show. but this is eric cartman, so he obviously has to take the extra mile in terrorizing her at school. he makes his school research paper about making fun of breast cancer, just to further show to wendy that there’s nothing she can do anymore since her parents have prevented her from fighting.
Tumblr media
then wendy gets called down to the principals office, and principal victoria is like “hey are you gonna beat up cartman” and wendy says no. then victoria is like “mmmm, are you sure about that?”
AND THEN SHE BASICALLY GIVES WENDY PERMISSION TO FUCKING DESTROY CARTMAN IN THE SCHOOL PLAYGROUND. she calls him a “fat little lump of cancer” that needs to be “fought.” i find this scene so funny cause it just shows that literally everyone, including the adults and school faculty wants to see cartman get some form of karma.
and then the actual fight scene itself is one of the best moments in the entire show. here’s a list of things that i love about it.
Tumblr media
wendy pulls up to the playground with a bunch of students following her. some of the kids are from different grade levels, which shows that literally everyone wants to see cartman get beaten up.
and wendy also puts her hair up in a bun and takes off her coat so we can see her my little pony tank top, so you know that she means BUSINESS.
Tumblr media
the face that cartman makes when he realizes that he can no longer manipulate or gaslight his way out of the fight without backing out in front of the entire school, which he can’t do since he believes that he’s the “cool kid.”
Tumblr media
cartman having to pull up his pants after the first punch that wendy threw made him fall over.
Tumblr media
and lastly, how butters gets so excited to see them fight. he’s been egging them both on throughout the entire episode, and he gets so happy when wendy finally shows up at the playground.
also, when he yells “FUCK HIM UP WENDY!” was so funny
anyways 10/10 episode it’s so funny
102 notes · View notes
lavendertales · 2 years
Text
Judas—Javier Peña x f!reader
Chapter 14 of the Unholy series
summary: Javier tells you everything about the loss of your father.
word count: 3k
A/N: ANGST. mentions of violence, injuries & guns.
Tumblr media
gif: @300mirrors​ 
series masterlist | AO3 
The silence is deafening, not tranquil in the slightest. The more you look into Javier’s eyes, the more you struggle to see past the eyes of a traitor. You brawl and battle against the ugliest instincts in order to see the eyes of the man who has given you the best, most exciting years of your life, the man who has bewitched your body and heart alike.
You know you should be thinking rationally. That you know.
Yet your spirit bends at anger’s will, unable to stand back up and offer a proper resolution.
You don’t move, and neither does the gun pressed into Javier’s chest. He doesn’t move, either. Not on account of fear of the bullet.
He’s too afraid that one wrong move will drive you out of his life completely.
“Talk,” you murmur.
“Do you want to sit down?”
“You do the talking, I give the instructions.”
Javier complies, scarily easy too. He doesn’t sit down either; he merely leans against one of the desks and takes in a deep breath, avoiding your glare for now.
Turns out, reminiscing the worst thing you did to someone is no easy task and it can take quite the toll on anyone. His chest feels heavy, his mind a blur as he scrambles for each detail of that dreadful day, and all of his hopes of being with you utterly shattered.
“It was a day like any other,” he begins, voice husky, filled with instant regret. “I haven’t seen him before, just—so you know. He was another guy that needed to be taken down, a… name to scratch off a list.”
Hearing that makes you tremble and nearly spit out your disgust, right at Javier’s feet, but you refrain yourself from such malicious actions. Instead, your finger remains secure on the trigger, gun still pointing in his direction.
“I got to the office, Murphy walked in as well, and we went straight to Carrillo. We had a raid planned for that day, it was supposed to be at a local brothel. Carrillo handed me that mission. He and Murphy were going at a different location. It was me, and another three agents. Mateo, Diego and Raul. When we got there… it was an ambush. They knew we were coming, someone sold us out. There were four of Escobar’s men. There was Navigante, Quica, The Lion… and Michael.”
The sudden thought of your father in a whorehouse makes you sick to your very core. You make a face, unable to contain it, but quickly brush off the thought. Water under the bridge now, you think. After all, your mother had passed years before, and it’s not like she stuck around for either one of you.
“They scattered like rats immediately,” Javier continues, taking another deep breath in. “We went after them, shots were fired… and civilians got involved. It quickly turned into madness. They were shooting at random people on the street, making sure it was difficult for us to follow them without helping the others. But there was nothing we could do, they were dead by the first bullet. So we chased them for a while, but Navigante and the Lion got away. That left us with Quica and Michael. Those two were… madmen. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never seen someone smile so widely while shooting and mutilating others.”
The word “mutilating” makes your skin crawl, and you’d hate to think that your father could possibly behave in such a twisted manner.
But you saw the file. You saw the pictures, the hard evidence displayed boldly in front of you, black and white on paper, indisputable. The pictures were, indeed, gruesome, and even reminiscing them is a heavy cross to bear.
“La Quica was the one who did most of that,” Javier seemingly puts your mind to rest with that sentence. “But your—Michael wasn’t that far behind. He—he enjoyed what he did. He had fun. He knew how to run and hide and to shoot. Quica was the one who took the first shot at us, and he got Raul right in the head. He dropped dead next to me. I kept shooting, trying to get one of them, either one of them. I knew at that point that they had to be killed. They left a trail of bloody corpses behind them and had no remorse about it. No shame, no guilt… there was nothing but happiness on their faces.”
The tragic part is that you can vividly portray those images, despite the hatred that you carry for the notion that your father was a notorious killer embarked on Pablo Escobar’s service. It seems like such a cruel sentence, to be able to portray a bloodbath of those proportions when you haven’t been present to witness it firsthand.
Perhaps on a deeper level, you acknowledge that your father could be capable of such atrocities. And it’s undoubtedly scary.
“I got Quica in the shoulder,” you hear next. “”Not much, but at least it got him to stop for a while. Then it was Michael. The moment Mateo took a breather to recharge the gun, he was a goner. Michael took the shot, killed him in a second. It was just me and Diego left, and Quica was back to back with Michael, shooting again like a fucking lunatic. Diego asked me what to do. He was following my orders, and I was following Carrillo’s. We were supposed to bring the most important faces for a confession, and Quica was one of them. Michael wasn’t. So I told him—“
Javier hesitates. He sees your face, drained of all color and emptied of any other facial expression but coldness, and he gulps. Your hand holding the gun doesn’t waiver, not even for a moment.
“Go on,” you tell him. “Say it.”
Javier is clever enough to know you won’t shoot him. You need to take control of whatever you can, to intimidate and show that you mean business, and if that’s how you need to proceed, then he will let you. He will not fight you.
Instead, he breaks for you; the sight wrecks him in the nastiest, most painful way. He wills himself to go on like you had asked him to.
“I told Diego to—take the shot. I told him that I’ll get Quica, and if he gets the chance to get Michael… he should.”
Silence installs itself in between you two again, more asphyxiating and crumbling than when you began. You review every word, imagine how it all went down, over and over again, and your eyes meet Javier’s for what feels the first time in months.
“And?” you demand.
Your voice is hollow, and it eats Javier alive to hear it so.
“And… he did,” he confirms. “He took the shot. He killed him.”
“At your order.”
“At my order.”
“And after?”
“La Quica shot Diego in retaliation, then ran, scared shitless. I called dispatch to let them know about the agents, got to the embassy in bloody clothes, signed the report about the failed mission, and… went home.”
This time, you purposely stare at him. You picture an exhausted Javier driving through the bloody streets of Medellin, his clothes stained with the blood of his colleagues—and who knows what else—and, to your surprise, you feel for him.
“What did you do then?” you ask.
Though surprised at the question, Javier gulps, trying to recollect his thoughts as he thinks back on the end of that day. He has a suspicion regarding your expectations as to what his past time activities were, but there’s no more harsh truth to be exposed.
“I took a shower. It didn’t wash away anything from that day. I lit a cigarette, drank half a bottle of whiskey, and stared out the window well into the night. I stared at Medellin at night, listening to the wind, the shouting, the happy screams like there was this… massive win to be celebrated. But the truth is, that day was just the tip of the iceberg. It would be one of the many bad days to follow.”
It’s somewhat impressive that your hand didn’t cramp up yet; you’ve been pointing that gun at him for over half an hour, and you are still going strong.
“Do you think he deserved it?” you ask out of the blue.
Javier stares at you bewildered, uncertain if he wants to respond to that question.
Though how could he possibly upset you even more?
“What are you asking me?” he says, tone unstable, much like himself.
“I am asking you if you think he deserved what he got,” you clarify. That’s when you pull back, crossing your arms at your chest as you tower slightly over Javier. “Do you think my father deserved to die? It’s a simple yes or no.”
Except it’s not. Not really.
Javier coos your name, his mental state in a worse shape now. But he knows you, inside out; the answer he has in his heart is the one you have as well, and he knows that. He knows you can’t help but rationalize everything, even this moment, even the grimmest moment of your life. You’ve always placed duty above personal gain.
And duty will win again.
“He was cruel and manic,” he replies. “He killed children. In broad daylight.”
“Yes or no, Javier.”
The way you pronounce his name, emptied of any emotion and yearning behind it, it both brings him back to life and kills him simultaneously.
“Yes,” he finally answers.
Your facial expression doesn’t change. The glare you exchange with him seems to be that of an underlying agreement, one that he isn’t part of. He notices that you seem less angry, though he fails to understand how or why. He’s worried again, terrified of the damage he’d unknowingly caused between you two.
“Okay,” you respond after a while. “Thank you.”
Javier doesn’t like that; the simple, cold way you send those thanks sends shivers down his spine, and he lowers his head into the ground again. He knows he’s truly fucked up and, in spite of your search for the truth and desire to keep things rational, you won’t ever forgive him.
What is rational, after all? Rational would’ve been if he had told you how he felt back in college. Rational would’ve been to tell you now, and drop the stupid rivalry act. Maybe it would’ve spared you of having to hide those shamefully pleasurable acts, and you could’ve actually enjoyed them properly, in a bed, intimate and cozy together.
There’s nothing but an ice cold distance between you two now, a broken road that’s suffered too much damage to be repaired.
The sudden callout of your name makes Javier’s head turn, but not yours.
“What are you doing here?” Claudia chimes in. “What’s going on?”
She remarks the gun you’re holding in one of your hands, the head still pointed in Javier’s direction, and fearfully approaches you both.
“Thank you for your honesty,” you continue, “and thank you—for making me an orphan.”
It hurts like a motherfucker, but Javier understands it. He knows you want it to hurt, to hurt badly like it did you, and not because you didn’t hear a word from what he said. But because you did. He knows that you’ve probably accepted the truth about your father, but that you also cannot forgive him for the crimes he committed.
Just as you probably won’t forgive Javier for giving out that order, even if you acknowledge the fact that it was justified and well-intended.
“What is going on here?” Claudia pushes, now in your vicinity.
“Nothing,” you say, strapping the gun to your belt again. “Just a conversation.”
“I take it you’re back at work?”
“No. I don’t know if I’ll return.”
No “yet” or “just”. Somehow, that sentence hurts Javier more than what you told him last. The idea that he drove you away from your job, your career, your passion and from him, subsequently, is more than he can live with. He didn’t even get the chance to be happy upon seeing you back in the office, unharmed by Escobar.
Looks like neither of you gets their shot at happiness.
“If you’re telling me you’re quitting—“Claudia begins, but you are quick to interrupt.
“I’m still on indefinite hiatus, ma’am.”
“That personal affair hit you hard, I take it. I’m sorry.”
You glance at Javier, regret exuding from your pupils and your whole body. “So am I.”
“Take all the time you need,” Claudia adds.
You walk away, fighting the tears that sting your eyes and the ache in your heart. You can’t wait to get home, allow yourself to feel everything that’s been weighing down so heavily on you.
“Peña. A word.”
Defeated, Javier does a never-before seen version of the walk of shame all the way to his boss, eyes lowered in shame into the ground.
“What the hell is going on?” Claudia asks.
“Nothing.”
“I got two of my finest agents on the sideline, one sulking in this very office and the other on an indefinite break, potentially leaving the DEA altogether, instead of going after Pablo Escobar. The goal they’ve been working towards for the past three years. One can only assume the two elements are related.”
“There’s not—“
“And before you decide on how to lie to me, I did not get to be in this position by not picking up on social cues.”
Javier inhales, pretending to weigh in on his options. For him, there is only one: do not reveal anything to the DEA’s chief. His private life is private for a reason. Although, in the past year, things had clearly gotten out of hand.
“Is there something else going on between you two?” she asks.
Javier doesn’t offer any verbal response; instead, he looks at Claudia with an incredibly guilty look in his eyes, one that suggests don’t you dare ask me anything else about this or I might lose it completely.
Claudia huffs, quite loudly, staring at the empty office they are in, taking in the image before looking back at the disheveled man in front of her.
“I do not need to know… everything,” she says, voice a little rigid. “But I can understand it there being something more going on.”
Javier remains silent still. He cannot bring himself to look into his boss’ eyes, not when she’s referencing the most private thing in his life.
“I do want to ask you a question, since we’re on this topic, Peña.”
The silence makes Javier hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears; the thump, thump, thump of a man on the verge of a breakdown.
“Whatever is going on… is it worth missing out on catching Pablo Escobar? Is she worth missing the biggest achievement in your career?”
“She is.”
Without missing another heartbeat.
“Or I thought she was. Hoped. I don’t know.”
Unable to resist the impulse to comfort, Claudia approaches Javier and gently pats him on the shoulder, smiling politely.
“Give her some time,” she advises.
“I don’t think time will heal in this case, boss.”
“Give it time. Trust me.”
While he’s definitely not a fan of discussing elements of his personal life—or lack thereof—with anyone, much less with his boss, the alternative, thinking of how the team is handling Escobar, isn’t such a treat either. At least in talking about you, he gets to think of you, to remember the times you’ve shared together, as sinful and forbidden they felt at the time.
God, he misses you. He misses having you nearby, the scent of your perfume, that soft, moldable skin of yours, your full lips, the fiery way you’d stare him down and the moans you let out as he slid inside you, always with ease, like you were—
Like you were made for him.
“How can you be sure time will help?” he asks.
“As I told you before, you don’t get to be in this position without being good with social cues of any kind. I know what attraction, what love looks like. I’ve seen it in her eyes.”
Javier’s eyes widen upon hearing the piece of information. “What?”
Claudia chuckles. “Peña, I am well aware of the fact that you have—quite a reputation around here, particularly among the few women at the embassy. But I’ve never seen you miss being in the middle of the action, let alone for a woman. I know what caring for someone looks like, and this is it. That kind of love doesn’t just go away. So… give it some time.”
The moment vanishes as swiftly as it had begun. Javier feels like he’d been talking to an old friend rather than an official representative of America. Which somehow makes the moment slightly more awkward as the realization dawns on him.
“Thank you,” he quickly says before rushing out the office.
He can’t stay there. He cannot keep waiting around. He needs distraction. And alcohol won’t do it this time.
He makes the call from the car. Anxiety cruises through his veins as he tells Gabriella to meet him at his place. Deep down, in the huge pit of his stomach, he feels retched for even thinking about it, and even more so for going through with it. But he can’t have you. He will probably never have you again, so why pretend otherwise? And there is nothing wrong about seeking solace in the arms of someone. Especially since you two were never an item, and by the looks of it, never will be.
He’s no good at being a boyfriend, or more. He’s good at fucking, and that’s what he will do tonight. Needy, rough and depraved. Just the way he likes it.
Just the way she likes it.
Stop. Don’t think about anything else but Gabriella. You need this.
previous | next 
270 notes · View notes
carcrashscike · 5 months
Text
how i wish scott and mike’s dynamic in tdas would’ve been written:
* note: this is given that the plot stays relatively the same, i would change a lot about this otherwise
mike is pissed at scott for what he did to him last season, and with this newfound control of himself and his headspace he isn’t as afraid to say it. he isn’t around scott much early on (being on different teams and generally avoiding each other like the plague) but in challenges mike, often alongside zoey who shares this vendetta to a lesser extent, gets super competitive when scott is around. scott plays this off in his scott fashion (“wow he’s really obsessed, must be in love with me or something”), and while he derives some surface level pleasure from getting mike’s niceness to crack deep deep deep down he feels guilty. he knows what he did last season was shitty, how could he not? it doesn’t help that it seems mike will never let him live it down, eyes burning into the back of scotts head at any and every given opportunity (a gesture reserved only for him). the early episodes show mike and scott generally staying away from each other, with only sparse moments of hatred from mike’s end.
their dynamic takes a turn once mal gets added to the mix. scott doesn’t realize that mike isn’t the one fronting anymore, but he quickly pieces together that “mike” has begun to sabotage others (including his friends), a revelation that fills him with pure glee. he’s been validated, mike wasn’t only mean to scott because he wronged him, rather mike was just as cruel and vindictive as he was all along and he was a hypocrite for pretending to be otherwise. scott misconstrues “mike’s” actions as him revealing his true self after playing the long con, rather then it not being mike at all. mal on the other hand is keeping an eye on scott, as while he isn’t his biggest threat at the moment he knows that he was able to make it far the previous season (that and he holds a tiny vendetta against scott for his previous actions… something something “no one will mess with us with me in charge”). scotts going down like the rest of them without a doubt, but he isn’t mal’s primary focus mid season.
scott sees through all of “mikes” subsequent actions of manipulation. oftentimes he chooses to say nothing as those actions rarely target him (he quietly prides himself on that, it’s their little secret even if “mike” doesn’t know he knows) and also often harm his competition. he begins to interpret “mikes” non focus on him as a sign of possible respect, putting the past animosity behind them like he knows scott is above such obvious manipulation tactics. while he’s still hurt by courtney’s chart when it’s revealed, he’s more curious as to how mike acquired it in the first place. he also doesn’t fall for mikes bid to get him angry at gwen, spinning the line of reasoning back on him again coyly (“you said it’s her fault, but weren’t you the one who exposed her chart?”).
with his newfound perspective on “mike” scott doesn’t expect himself to be a target until it’s too late and he’s dangling by his foot in front of a very hungry shark. maybe he taunts mike, comparing himself to him and finding similarities between their actions or maybe he proposes an alliance with the knowledge he believes he has. either way mal pushes him in front of his worst nightmare, paralleling scotts actions towards mike. its in this moment scott realizes what’s happening, the truth that the man in above him wasn’t mike at all. scott finds plenty of time to ruminate on this as he slips unconscious.
as he awakes he’s swept up into elimination. part of him holds out hope that zoey will do what should be the obviously smart choice, but the rest of him knows she would never betray mike, even if it isn’t really him. scott try’s to expose mal to zoey at this point, faking once it’s clear that zoey has already realized what’s up. scott’s final words curse out mal for wearing the skin of the man he wronged and for making him believe, for just a split second, that they would somehow get better.
42 notes · View notes