#hyperionprincess

[visata]

TERRIBLE FATHER :

[ shoot ] your muse shooting my muse anywhere ((pull the fuckin trigger angel))

you were scared. that’s why you did it. he told you you didn’t have the guts. but you did. someone had to stand up for you, and it was you. you wanted change. you didn’t want to be like him. but when you pull the trigger, you hear his laugh. you don’t know if it’s in your head or not. the bullet doesn’t go entirely through, it’s lodged in his shoulder. you didn’t want to kill him. you still loved him. he was all you had left in terms of family.

“d-dad?” you ask shakily. “i-i didn’t... i didn’t mean to -- i...” and now you’re thinking of your mother. what you did to her.  oh god, what did you just do? you shot your father.

[visata]

"Do you think if someone were to cut off their left arm and leg they wouldn't be a siren anymore? Asking for a friend."

[visata]

@thehandsomeasshole :

jack, quietly : what do you mean terrible idea

//

"Its not great, pops. But If that's what you want to manufacture, I can't stop you. But I do insist I get one anyway. They don't sound practical, but... I mean, worm on a string."

[visata]

Amara: Synonyms are weird because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy, but if I invite you to my cabin in the woods, you’re gonna die.

Moze: My favorite is explaining the difference between a “butt dial” and a “booty call.”

Fl4k: It’s called connotations.

Zane: Try this one for size: “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned” or “Sorry daddy, I’ve been naughty”

Angel: Great news! Language is now banned.

[visata]

"Troy Calypso has one brain cell and a hot sister."

[visata]

angel needs sleep and this can be used for any jack ship

[visata]

With enough convincing, angel was allowed to keep an abandoned skag pup. Her name is peanut because she was a runt

[visata]

handsomcsthcro :  

surprisingly, his mask is abandoned on his penthouse coffee table. of course only angel had the security codes to the penthouse, and she was catching her father coming out of the shower. he was already in sweats and a ratty old hyperion shirt with a towel thrown over his head. the hypertrophic scarring of the vault symbol is in blatant view and mismatched eyes flick angrily up to angel when she comes in before the expression melts into shock and dare she say....fear?

before you looked at your father, you saw the mask, and you were immediately struck by fear. you knew he wore it, you never found out why, but you knew he wore a mask at all times. but now, the reason was clear, right in front of you. a blue vault symbol branded into his skin. he looked scared when he looked at you. you were scared too, scared of his reaction if he saw your own scars, especially the one a few inches above your ear; the placement of the ports that used to be there. that’s why you’d left, honestly, to get them out. and, if you paid someone enough, they’d do anything. you learned that was really true today.

“dad...? are you okay?” you ask cautiously.