#or maybe I just need to be more social. but that’s rough. how’s a 35 year old introvert loser supposed to be social in a normal way?
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Another night I feel like my world is ending, so I went for a drive. Tried to sleep earlier. Nothing doing. Took a couple antianxieties. Surprisingly, not much help. Made me a little sleepy, cried a little, maybe a little more relaxed, but still…. blegh.
So, I’ve got my beeg drink, a podcast going, and I’m sitting in the Kroger parking lot because it’s 4:30+ in the morning and I need to see actual humans walking around. I don’t know how to explain it. Seeing other people continue on with their lives helps calm my doomer anxiety.
This sucks.
#going to give up on sleeping tonight because…#because because because because…#because my brain hates me and whenever I try to sleep now I feel like I’m going to die#I NEED to schedule more appointments#I don’t know why I didn’t. I mean#I mean I do know why I didn’t. it’s because I think I had a couple good days and didn’t want to stress myself#which is stupid. a little stress scheduling today stops me from stressing more later#I need drugs! I need therapy. I might need to see an ENT again bc I’m paranoid about my sinuses#sorry I got annoyed this week seeing posts talking shit about therapy and it just made me feel shitty for needing it#but whatever. whatever works for you. this is rambling#I’m gonna stay up. try to see the sunrise. see more people walking around.#I miss having friends… but damn that was a long time ago#that nice sweet spot right around highschool and right after where we would all hang out all night#just driving around or loitering or watching movies at each other’s places#do you ever really get to have friends like that again?#seems like you’d have to make a bunch of friends in school and then hold onto them as hard as you can#or maybe I just need to be more social. but that’s rough. how’s a 35 year old introvert loser supposed to be social in a normal way?#also…#I just want to be held#that’s all I wanted earlier. to be held for awhile. to have someone comfort me physically.#just hang out with me. sit on your phone next to me. let me know I’m not doing this alone.#be a bro! jeez!#okay it’s almost 5. guess I should get back to driving#whatever. this sucks. I’m so anxious.#you can ignore this#text
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Do you have an idea of disability as part of redemption arc ? Let's say, I have a character who's a professional executioner, from a dynasty of professional executioners, XVIIIth century. He was a real person, who eventually became paraplegic. Since, I want, for my historical novel to redeem him...He started torturing people at fourteen, maybe younger, and killed for the first time at age 18. He's 33 when the story started, and became hemiplegic/paraplegic (documentation isn't clear on this) at age 35, and was in a social circle of executioners and torturers since birth. Realistically, maybe, he would have little to no sense of belonging beyond that of executioner, unless maybe as head of house, which is again, liked to his position as executioner. He's a third class citizen, but an absurdly wealthy one, and no longer being able-bodied doesn't mean he can stop depending on the executioner buisness, it just means his son has to start killing at 15.
How do you think a man who worked for 13 years as master executioner of Paris, but officially because one at age 7, insuring his wealth but also the envy of his colleagues, would cope with being hemiplegic/paraplegic. Also, one of his potencial rivals was a man who in all likelyhood beated his mother, and probably him and his brother when they were at least teenagers. That master executioner was aged 35 when he lost his mobility to a stroke. The Mémoires of the Sanson family also described him a proud piller of his community, delivering charitable medical care to those in needs and one who enjoyed rough horse riding.
Thank you for your ask! This sounds like a case of redemption through disability, which is a trope that should be avoided. A disabled character can get redeemed, but it should be entirely separate from their disability.
Along with his disability not redeeming him, you should also make sure it doesn’t make him spiteful or cruel. Basically the disability should change what he can physically do, not who he is.
As for the second part of the ask, I first want to note none of our mods are parapalegic/hemiplegic, so we can’t speak for coping with these disabilities specifically. I’d recommend looking for first hand accounts of people with these conditions, or preferably seeing if you can find someone with them to ask or act as a sensitivity reader.
I don’t know much about 18th century French medicine, but physical & occupational therapy will be important as he re-learns tasks that were once easy and figure out ways to complete tasks he can no longer do. Studies show horseback riding can help stroke survivors with their recovery, though he’ll need to ride gently at first.
Have a nice day!
Mod Rot
I just want to say real quick, adding on to the case of redemption through disability, that the reason we want to avoid it is because moralizing disability is something that very much happens to real alive people every day.
Tying disability to morality often is 'disability is a moral failure' type of situation, but another way it affects people is the assumption that 'suffering' through a disability somehow makes you more 'pure' or 'better.' Like when you see some grumpy mean character get an injury and Suddenly They Understand Hardships of Others and they become a better person — sort of a mix between 'disability as punishment' and 'disabled people are innocent.'
This kind of seems like what you're doing here. There's a lot of historical fiction out there that uses real life counterparts. If you choose to do that and redeem a bad person, I can't exactly stop you. But I want you to examine why you think what's going to redeem him is the onset of his disability, rather than an understanding of what he did and attempts to do better.
Hope this helps,
– Mod Sparrow
I agree completely with what has been said and just want to add that even disorders like traumatic brain injuries and strokes that can sometimes affect not only function but also personality should not be used as a moral thing, as mentioned earlier. More realistically impacts of a stroke on personality and mood are depression (this was my main symptom even with minimal other symptoms and damage), some impulsiveness or irritability, and mood swings. The disability, again, should not make them a better or worse person inherently.
-Mod Bert
#historical fiction#redemption through disability trope#real person fiction#mod rot#mod sparrow#mod bert#subiysu-chan#tw death#tw death mention#tw torture mention
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OC Intros
I plan on making full-on bios at some point, like one post per character, but for the time being I’ll give you these little summaries!
Argus Sullivan
Argus is a hot-headed, sadistic, misogynistic, 29-year-old warehouse worker suffering from erotomania; a delusional disorder resulting in intense obsessive tendencies and the belief that the object of his ‘affections’ feels just as strongly towards him.
He wants the ideal white-picket-fence life with a spouse, 2.5 kids, maybe a dog or two, even if that means going to extreme lengths to keep his spouse in line. His “canon” obsession is Cherie.
blueskidoo
blueskidoo is an 18-year-old Catholic school student trying to break from the influence of her overly strict parents and a self-proclaimed proud morosexual; she’s attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Conversely, blue herself does quite well academically, even if she often slacks off.
She’s like many young adults; yearning for freedom and wanting her own independence, though her parents are more controlling than most, as they’re desperate to keep her in-line and pure.
Cherie Senft
Cherie is a 24-year-old woman working at a local, overpriced, rather pretentious coffee shop. She’s a ditzy social butterfly with a ridiculously high libido and a love of partying, raves, and all the chaos that comes with it. Despite being a young adult, she’s horrifically irresponsible and negligent.
All she wants in life is to be free from expectations; to cast off the expectations of her family, to forget her mistakes, and to just live without worry, no matter how unrealistic it might be.
Damien Fleury
Damien is a 35-year-old therapist who was assigned Argus as a client for court-ordered therapy. She’s a calm, well put-together woman who exudes confidence and competence with everything she does, rarely ever letting her guard down or allowing others to see her weaknesses.
After learning just how dangerous Argus has the potential to be, Damien has made it her goal to act as damage control; intercepting his plans or trying to redirect him onto less destructive ideas.
Finn Gianakis
Finn is an alternate version of Argus; a 29-year-old tutor battling against obsessive thoughts and violent desires. Outwardly, he seems perfectly normal: an intelligent, polite southern gentleman who’d drop anything to help his dear mother, and who’s charmingly quirky.
He hates the urges that arise around people he finds attractive; the illogical jealousy, the need to claim them, all of it.
Fuwafuwa
Fuwa (Phoebe) is a reclusive 26-year-old freelance digital artist who spends her days secluded in her small Alaskan apartment with her two cats (Archibald and Hjalmar). She’s highly anxious, cynical, and finds it difficult to open up to others in most situations.
Those who take the time to get past her hard, prickly shell will be rewarded by a soft, affectionate, loyal, and nurturing friend who’s always ready to go to bat for them.
Hà Liên Thi Phạm
Lien is a 26-year-old barista working alongside Cherie at a pretentious, overpriced coffee shop popular with upper-class teens and young adults. She’s the “mom friend” of any group she’s in: mature, nurturing, sometimes a little overbearing (though with good intentions).
She comes from a rough upbringing; abusive parents, a bullying brother, a runaway attempt that went horribly wrong, and spends every day of her life trying to distance herself from her old life.
Harrison Alexander
Harrison is a 27-year-old bartender at a ritzy casino who is constantly chasing the newest thrill, even if it ends up harming him. He’s charming and a smooth talker, but also a coward who is often self-centred and tends to run from the consequences of his actions.
After having grown up in rural Australia, Harrison is yearning for a bigger and better life, though his efforts are hampered by his impulsivity, self-destructiveness, and rampant alcoholism.
Locke Vanitas
Locke is a 32-year-old drug dealer whose decade long stint in prison only served to make him worse. He’s a sadistic, detached man with no regard for the lives of those around him, his episodes of pure, unadulterated rage being the only real match for his laziness.
The only people Locke seems to have any level of care for are his little sister and grandparents, though even they’ve come to fear him over time as his addictions change him into someone unrecognizeable.
Miele Alarie
Miele, aged 26, acts as sweet as his name implies. He’s ambitious, affectionate, and as overdramatic as you could expect a minor child star, former theater kid, and current-day stage actor to be in his day-to-day life. Beneath his saccharine façade lays something much more sinister.
He’s the third youngest of eight siblings, all involved with the performing arts in some way, shape, or form under the management of their former beauty-queen mother. His twin sister was once a package deal with him.
missLovelace
missLovelace (Cassandra) is a 26-year-old college student majoring in math and minoring in comp-sci who lives on-campus. She’s bubbly and exuberant, though allergic to any kind of direct conflict, often leaving her as the one trying to settle arguments as quickly as possible.
She’s very close to her parents and little sister, visiting them as often as she can.
Percy Thomas
Percival Thomas is a 23-year-old library assistant and devout Catholic who struggles to stand up for himself or say no, often leading to him carrying out everyone else’s errands and menial tasks. Soft-spoken, generous, and too forgiving for his own good.
He’s extremely close to his older sister, her husband, and their four children. Percy takes his position as their uncle very seriously.
POLLINICPANIC
POLLINICPANIC (Makara) is a 27-year-old finance officer who lives with their ailing parents and multiple siblings, working hard to support them. They’re very light-hearted and mischievous, taking any opportunity to play jokes on their friends, though they also have an unfortunate tendency of pushing their own limits and overworking themself.
Pollen spends their free time in their extensive, treasured garden, which they’ve put years of love and effort into.
starbunnies
starbunnies (Serena) is a 23-year-old photographer who primarily works from home so she can spend more time with her toddler daughter. She’s very soft-spoken and nurturing, skilled at navigating difficult topics and bringing a calming presence to most situations she’s involved with.
She often worries about being perceived as immature due to her love of romance and fantasy, and puts a lot of effort into making sure people take her seriously.
Yohan Chae
Yohan is a 26-year-old delinquent-turned-mechanic who, despite his mean looks, has a personality more akin to a golden retriever. He could, by some people’s interpretation, fit the dictionary definition of a simp towards just about every woman he meets.
Though he may seem a little empty-headed, Yohan is intensely dedicated to his passions, friends, and family (particularly his younger brother).
Ziggy Santana
Ziggy is a 28-year-old unemployed stoner who peaked in high-school and has only gone downhill from there. He spends most of his time getting high, gaming, and heading down to the rarely-used skate park by his parents’ house.
Though friendly and generally well-intentioned, Ziggy doesn’t seem to realize that it’s highly inappropriate to grope people (or more) in public, nor does he acknowledge how much his little sister, Joni, despises him for being the family failure.
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35.wake up kisses
35. wake up kisses
Isobel is waiting for Margaret, a friend of her mother, who was visiting and used the bus instead of flying because it was safer.
Isobel wrinkled her nose at the amount of people inside of the bus depot, and decided to just wait outside, sending her mother a message so she could let Margaret know that Isobel was waiting for her.
The only reason that she had agreed to do this, instead of sending Max, was because Margaret was known in their social circle as a woman with expensive tastes, and Isobel was trying to network.
Her eyes sweep across the other cars in the parking lot, and she jumps when she sees Michael's truck.
She pushes away from her car, and heads over there, not surprised to find Michael himself sleeping in the front seat, head lolling back against the headrest, mouth open.
If there was one thing that the foster system fucked up that Isobel hasn't been able to unfuck in the time that Michael has been living with them in Roswell, it's his sleeping.
Michael can literally fall asleep anywhere, like he never got any sleep wherever he was living and had to compensate, but the downside to that was that if someone woke him up, he woke up swinging, like he had to defend himself immediately after being drawn out of sleep.
Isobel doesn't like the implications, but Michael actually refuses to talk about anything important without turning it into an uncomfortable joke.
Still, Isobel walks over there, determined to wake him up since he’s been missing for a few days, and while Max may be convinced that he’s wasting his life away on some bar floor, Isobel had been worried.
Before she can get close enough to yell his name without attracting too much attention, she sees a movement, and then someone else sits up, coming from around the vicinity of Michael’s lap.
Isobel ducks behind a car and gags a little. She can’t believe that Michael is actually having sex in a very public parking lot in broad daylight.
She looks around the hood of the car, hoping that whatever is happening is coming to an end, and is once again surprised.
Alex Manes is sitting beside Michael, and instead of looking like he was just giving a blowjob, he looks like he just woke up, yawning wide and stretching his arms as far as they can go.
He rubs a hand through his messy hair, rubbing his eyes, then blinks and turns towards Michael, who Isobel notes is actually asleep.
She opens her mouth to warn Alex about the dangers of waking Michael up, but Alex is one of those things that Michael has never talked to her about, and she doesn’t think right now would be the best time to bring it up.
She’s expecting Michael to wake up swinging the moment that Alex gets close enough, but he doesn’t even twitch.
Alex manages to get close enough to tap a finger against his cheek, and Michael just settles down more comfortably, head lolling to the other side as he smacks his lips together, but doesn’t wake up.
Isobel can see Alex saying something as he taps his cheek again, and when that doesn’t work, he leans in even closer, and then presses a kiss to Michael’s cheek.
Michael twitches then, nose scrunching up, but he doesn't make any sudden or rough movements.
Alex kisses him again, this time on the edge of his jaw, and again, going lower, until Michael is waking up, eyes blinking open, hand cupping the back of Alex's head.
Alex moves so that they're face to face and Michael says something, and Alex just leans against him, laying his head on Michael's shoulder.
Isobel sees the way Michael's face crumbles a little, but he wraps his arm around Alex and holds him tight, eyes falling shut as he leans his head against Alex's.
Isobel is broken out of the spell the moment put her in, by her phone vibrating in her hand.
She remembers why she's here in the first place, and turns away from the intimate scene still happening in Michael's truck, feeling more embarrassed than if she'd actually seen them fucking.
She shakes her head, pushing the thoughts aside and heads back to her car, vowing to try to talk to Michael about Alex again.
-
Liz doesn't think that it makes her a bad person to push Michael's stool over with her foot until he startles into wakefulness right as he falls to the floor.
She has never tried to wake him up, since Max told her that he wakes up swinging, if anyone tries to wake him up, and she has seen him almost punch Max in the face twice, and both times it was right after Max woke him up.
Liz thinks that they need to do something about it, maybe try different techniques, but both Isobel and Max shut her down, saying that that's just how Michael was.
It's several days after Isobel was put into stasis and they've been working nonstop on trying to find the cure. Liz has told Michael countless times that he should go sleep in the cot she's got in the corner, just for this purpose, but he still ends up falling asleep hunched over on top of the lab table, his butt just barely falling off the stool.
Liz is debating whether or not to push him and then send him to the cot so that she can get at their equipment, when there is a knock on the lab door.
It is pretty late, so she's expecting Kyle, and is startled when Alex is the one to open the door a crack and peek inside.
"Hey," he says as soon as he spots her. "I was looking for Ky-"
He stops speaking when he spots Michael, and Liz doesn't exactly understand the look on his face. He's surprised, yes, but it seems to be something more complicated than just surprise.
He opens the door wider and steps in all the way, closing the door behind himself softly.
He doesn't have his crutch, and Liz wants to ask about that, opening her mouth to ask him how he's doing and what he needs Kyle for, anything to distract him from asking what Michael is doing asleep in her lab.
His eyes flicker from Michael to her, and there is something in his gaze that seems knowing, like he knows exactly what they are doing here, like he knows that Michael is an alien.
"How long has he been asleep like that?" He asks instead of any of the other questions Liz thought he would ask.
"Long enough," she answers after clearing her throat. "I keep telling him to use the cot but-"
"He just falls asleep anywhere," he finishes for her, a fond look on his face, like this isn't the first time that he's seen Michael do this, and for the first time since he walked in through the door Liz wonders how exactly does Alex know Michael
She opens her mouth to ask, but her teeth click together as she shuts her mouth again when he walks over to Michael, without a care in the world.
"Alex-" she starts, wanting to warn him, but before she can, Alex is close enough to Michael to duck his head down and press a kiss to his temple.
"Guerin," she hears him say in a soft, melodic tone she's never heard come out of his mouth.
He kisses him again, at the corner of his eye, and then one more time on his cheek, and Liz feels her cheeks flame up as she realizes exactly how Alex knows Michael and how well.
By the third kiss, Michael is twitching and moving, and making a low groaning sound as he does.
Alex moves away then, as Michael stretches and his back cracks, the noise making Liz wince.
Michael looks around the room and then spots Alex, and if Liz hadn't guessed when Alex was kissing him, she would've gotten it by the look on Michael's face.
He opens his mouth like he's gonna say something, but then he seems to remember exactly where he is.
He looks over to Liz, eyes wide like he's terrified, and before Liz can say anything to rectify it, Alex's phone is ringing.
He pulls it out of his pocket and waves at them goodbye, not looking back to Michael as he walks out of the lab, answering the call.
"Kyle, I've been looking for you everywhere," he says as the door closes behind him.
There is silence for a few minutes before Michael says, "I don't want to talk about it."
He moves from the stool and walks over to the cot, dropping on it recklessly enough that it creaks alarmingly.
Liz wants to know what exactly went down between Michael and Alex, but instead she just goes back to work, looking at Michael out of the corner of her eye.
Well, she thinks. It looks like there is one way to wake Michael up without getting a punch to the face. Liz wonders if it only works with Alex.
-
Maria opens the door to the Airstream after the first flurry of knocks, and she refuses to feel anything negative when she sees that it's Alex knocking on the door.
His face is impassive as he looks at her, a look that Maria has only ever seen turned on strangers, and she tries not to let it affect her too much.
Michael did tell her that he was going to be doing something with Alex this morning, when she'd asked him if he would be around to help her with something back at the bar.
If she was being really honest with herself, she'd shown up last night with a sixer and a bottle of cheap whiskey at his door, to make sure that he had a reminder of what was waiting for him back home.
"He's still asleep," she tells him when he doesn't say anything else. "He did say that you would be here early, but I don't think he remembered to set an alarm."
She smirks a little at that, since she had been the reason that he was too busy to set an alarm, but Alex just rolls his eyes a little.
"It's okay," he tells her. "Let me just-"
He doesn't finish the sentence, and she's expecting him to point towards his car like he's going to leave, and wait until Michael calls him, but instead he signals inside, where Maria is basically guarding the door with her body.
She steps aside and towards the counter, feeling reluctant, remembering exactly what happened the last time that Alex was inside of the Airstream.
Alex doesn't pause as he walks towards the small bed and squats down beside it.
Maria wants to warn him to be careful. There is a reason why she barely sleeps in bed with Michael. He's pushed her off the bed more than once if she accidentally brushed up against him, and it's a good thing that she's been in a few fights and is good at blocking and ducking since he swings fists first before his eyes are even open.
He was insanely apologetic afterwards, the first and only time that it happened, but Maria really doesn't want to risk it.
She thinks it's something that they can work towards as their relationship continues, but at the moment she likes her space.
However much it pains her to think about it, she thinks that Alex should already be aware of Michael's waking up habits, so she just stays silent and stares.
Alex doesn't do anything that she's expecting.
"Guerin, time to wake up," he says in a sweet low voice, and then she feels her neck and cheeks flush red with anger and shame when he leans even closer and presses a kiss to Michael's forehead, a tender touch that could be platonic if Maria wasn't aware of Alex's feelings on the matter.
The shock of Michael blinking his eyes open, and then stretching and waking up without so much as one erratic movement is what stops Maria from saying anything at all.
"If you're not ready in the next ten minutes we'll be late," Alex says as he gets back up to his feet.
Michael just groans, but then sits up, swinging his feet to the ground.
Alex walks back over to where Maria is standing, and he doesn't look smug or even remotely satisfied that he's able to do something that Isobel had assured Maria no one had ever been able to do.
"Tell him I'm waiting for him in the car," he tells her as he walks out of the Airstream without a goodbye.
Maria watches him get into his car, and only unfreezes when she hears the sound of the shower.
She inhales a shaky breath and wonders what exactly she's gotten herself into.
#malex fic#malexprompts2021#miluca is dating in the last part but it literally doesnt matter#this is a bit long but im on mobile#hope you like it !!#😊❤❤
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A rather tongue in cheek look at the British class system.
This post started life as an answer to an ask “how do you know which class you are?”- which is an interesting ask to receive, as I always thought most people in the UK had a strong sense of the class system and their place within it.
In the UK, class extends beyond economic factors and each social class tends to have their own, identifiable culture. This culture is, or can be inherited, and it means that people can sometimes identify as a class that doesn't match up with their current apparent economic circumstances.
Apart from the fact I find this personally very interesting, I do think it’s important to examine the class system in the UK. Classism is a very real phenomenon, which exists, for starters. class definitions are difficult and vary with culture and historical moment, but I'll attempt to lay out some key characteristics from my cultural perspective.
The aim of this analysis is not to offend (although it is, at times, to amuse), nor to present one class as “better” than the others.
Lower- Working class: Your family have traditionally working in non-professional jobs, such as manufacturing, service/hospitality roles, other “unskilled” jobs. Work was likely insecure (especially post Thatcher) and there were periods of being out of work and relying on benefits. Historically, working class people would have lived in council houses or “tied accommodation” but increasingly, they live in insecure rentals. At times, outgoings will have exceeded the money coming in, and there may have been periods where your family needed to rely reselling goods or unconventional sources of credit in order to make ends meet. Increasingly, even in work families are sometimes relying on foodbanks. You/ your family are less likely to drive and own a car. When you were young, it’s likely that you were informally cared for by relatives, or your parents worked opposite shifts to cover childcare.
You speak with a regional accent- it might be pretty strong and you use regional dialect. You eat “tea” in the evening and “dinner” at around midday. A lot of the men in your family follow a local football team, and likely attend games. They might have a bet on the horses, but are unlikely to actually go to the races. Growing up, you might have gone to the park for a kick about with your mates, but you are less likely to have been part of an official team or organised hobby.
You may well care about your appearance, but you’re likely to do things like dye your hair at home, rather than go to a salon. Your clothes are sometimes second hand, but this isn’t through choice. It’s likely you have some clothes or outfits you consider “best”. You may have piercings or tattoos and care less about appearing “conventional”. When you go out, you probably go to a local pub which some people might consider “rough”, but you also sometimes go out clubbing.
You might be close to your family, and the community you grew up in, but it’s also very possible that these relationships are somewhat strained for various reasons. Celebrations such as Christmas (if you celebrate it) and birthdays were important to your family and your parents might have gone a bit overboard with this, even (especially) if they couldn’t afford it.
At some point in your life, you’ve used the word “scab” as an insult- even if you didn’t know what it meant.
Upper-Working class: Your family have traditionally worked in skilled trades, or regular “non-professional” employment such as manufacturing. You might also have relatives in the army or in the police force. These days, they might be self employed, but they would be less likely to employ someone else. There are varying degrees of financial comfort, and these days, your family may own their own home but you’re not “wealthy”. It’s unlikely your family have assets or investments beyond one property and cars. If you’re younger than about 35, you or your siblings might have gone to university, but no-one in your parents’ generation has. Your parents probably have a degree of debt beyond a mortgage (if they have one). You probably spent time in childcare when you were young because your parents had to work. If your parents have a mortgage, they are potentially overstretched by it and concerned about how they will pay it off before retirement.
You probably speak with a regional accent and use dialect words. You also use words like serviette, dessert, pardon etc. Someone in your family is really into football but they are more likely to support a team in the premiership and watch games on TV rather than going to matches- if they are into rugby then it’s rugby league unless you’re from Wales or Cornwall. You probably learned to ride a bike as a child, and it may have been your main mode of transport as a teenager. You’re more likely to do a hobby as part of some kind of formal group or club, but it’s unlikely to be one that requires a lot of expensive equipment.
You/your female relatives are probably quite house-proud and take a lot of care over their appearances. There’s probably time spent fake tanning and getting nails done. You’ve probably got a feature wall somewhere in your house. You might have your own distinct sense of style and belong to a “sub-culture” but if you have tattoos, they’re likely to be well planned and/or relatively easily hidden. When you go out, you probably go out clubbing, but you probably have a “local” too.
Family and community are important to you- it’s likely you haven’t moved that far from where you grew up (unless you were really desperate for work). It’s possible the area where you grew up is pretty deprived, although it may be increasingly a victim of gentrification, depending on where you are from.
You know someone who bought their house via “right-to-buy” and thinks this makes them middle class.
Middle Class: Your family have traditionally worked in more professional jobs. These may not require a degree (especially historically), but we are talking things like accountant, lawyer, doctor, teacher, civil servant etc. They earned a salary rather than being paid by the hour. Some degree of their assets were probably inherited, and they may have some investments e.g. shares or a buy to let property, but this isn’t the whole of their income (unless they are retired and have a decent pension too).
Your parents owned their own home, and are/will be mortgage free by the time they retire. You probably had regular foreign holidays growing up. Your parents are likely to save up for big ticket items, rather than get into debt. You’re not the first generation in your family where people went to university. It’s very likely you had a stay at home parent for part of your childhood.
If you speak with a regional accent, it’s probably not very strong, and it’s likely you don’t use a lot of regional dialect words. You call your midday meal lunch, and your evening meal dinner. If you go to the pub to watch a sports match, it’s more likely to be the six nations than a football game. But it’s equally likely you aren’t into sport at all. Your parents probably made you get swimming and music lessons growing up, and you may well have a hobby- possibly one that requires a bit of financial investment on your part.
You like to think you have a sense of style, but you don’t like to look like you are “trying too hard”. You might be especially into a certain genre of music or films. You may make a nod to subculture in the way you dress, but if you’re older than a teenager, you probably dress in a relatively “conventional” way. You go out to bars, or chain/mid-priced restaurants, although you might also go to a pub for a meal or if there was music on.
Your family probably don’t all live in the same place, and you may only see them relatively rarely. It’s likely your parents have friends from uni or NCT classes who to some extent take the place of family in your life. You may not have a strong sense of community and it’s very possible that if your parents live rurally, you might have moved to the city for work. You’re probably not very religious.
At some point in your life, you have sneered at someone for being a “chav”.
Upper-middle Class: Your parents are pretty wealthy and almost definitely went to university. You went to a well known university. They likely went to private school and you probably did too (although not a super famous one). If you didn’t go to private school, you went to a grammar school, church school or the most sought after “comp” in the county (your parents probably moved house to get you in). Someone in your extended family owns a second home, or at least a really nice house in the country. You/your parents almost definitely have inherited wealth and assets, as well. You/your parents may just work in a well paid job, but they may also own a medium to large size company. You probably had multiple holidays abroad each year (and it’s very likely you went skiing). If one of your parents’ cars broke down, it would have been very easy for them to replace it, without needing to save up or get into debt, but you don’t have any fear of debt, either. It’s very likely you can get a job through “connections”. It’s likely they employed a cleaner and possibly a gardener, and maybe au-pair or nanny as well.
You speak with an RP accent, and you might have “pudding” after your “supper”. It’s very likely you play a team sport of some kind, probably rugby, cricket, hockey or maybe lacrosse. You might row, or ride horses, or sail. You’ve always been able to do whatever expensive hobby you like, and money has never been a barrier to progressing. You may well shop in charity shops, and brag about the bargains you find there. You may drive an “old” car, but it’s probably a 4x4, genuinely vintage, or quirky in some other way. You have inherited jewellery and possibly some home furnishings. If you’re talented in some way, (sport or artistic) you were probably given every opportunity to persue this.
Networking is important to you and you feel part of a community. You’re probably quite socially confident. It’s likely you know some of the people you work with socially as well. You probably expect to live a reasonably traditional lifestyle, and you’re less likely to be part of a “sub-culture” (unless you’re making a career as an actor or a musician). You probably observe religious festivals, but you don’t go regularly to a place of worship. You avoid chain restaurants, but you like to go to the village pub.
On some level, you probably think “poor” people bring it on themselves through poor decision making.
Upper Class: Historically, your family were rich enough not to have to work for a living, and someone in your extended family owns a very large amount of land. You’re related to someone with a title. You went to a well known private school and you may have boarded. It’s likely your family own multiple properties- some are rented out and some you live in. Some or all of these were inherited, rather than bought. You may have a “private income” of some kind. Your family may have had to “diversify” in recent years, and you may actually be working more than your ancestors did. You might have gone to a well known university, or you might have gone to somewhere like RAU. Your family own multiple cars, and one of them is probably a 4x4. It’s likely your family employed “staff”. At some point since the second world war, your family may well have had to sell off property etc- but your money worries are “how do we avoid selling off land” not “how do we afford to replace the washing machine”.
You talk like you are from the 1940s, and everyone you know has a stupid sounding nickname. You use your own form of impenetrable slang- probably specific to whatever school you went to. You’ve probably been hunting and you know someone who plays polo. You go to events like Royal Ascot, Henley Regatta, the Boat Race and Goodwood etc. You ski. You’ve been on multiple long haul holidays, and you probably went on a “Gap Yah”.
Everyone you know knows everyone else you know and you’re suspicious of people who you don’t have acquaintances in common with. You’ll get married, in a church (you are CofE and white) and having children is fairly important to you. You’re probably involved with some kind of charity work.
You pride yourself on not being a snob, because you got on well with the people you met in Africa, but you’ve never actually spoken to someone who grew up in a council house.
#uk politics#the class system#uk culture#british culture#working class#middle class#upper class#class analysis#please don't take this too seriously
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Day 3: Chris Beck- Daddy and Creampie
Warnings: Dub con, non con, forced pregnancy, breeding kink
Tags: @saiyanprincessswanie @mcudarklibrary @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @what-just-happened-bro @nsfwsebbie @bucksgoat @gigistorm @avengerimscreaming @venusavengers @saharzek @navybrat817 @xoxabs88xox
XXX
You and Chris worked together well. You and him had been co-workers for years for the Ares 3 mission. Your relationship was strictly professional, but you’d be lying if you both hadn’t snuck off during long training weeks to relieve some pent up energy.
You both had made it very obvious there were no feelings involved and that it was strictly a sexual relationship. He seemed fine with this, and you knew you were. You had bigger things to worry about, things far more important than a relationship. You and your team were on the brink of a breakthrough with the Mars trip being successful.
You were the team’s science officer as Beck worked at the surgeon. You both were to stay behind, you to research the planet and Beck to make sure you’re not hurt without proper assistance. You were to send weekly videos on the information needed for the arrival of permanent human life.
Though it was a far-fetched dream, you wanted to find and grow enough organisms to start moving humans to the planet. After about 9 years on the planet, you were proud to say you had done just that.
You excitedly turned on your computer to start a new weekly video, your mouth hurting from the uncontainable joy. “Good evening everyone, by the time this reaches you it should be morning, so good morning to you. I would just like to inform you all that the plants on the C-side of our inhabitants are growing enough oxygen to support 15 people, while the B-side and the D-side are able to hold 35. Side-A is not currently able to hold any form of life due to the temperatures still being too harsh, but I’m sure a weather modifier can be one of the first people on the shuttle here to start changing that safely. Chris and I happily await your arrival, and we hope to see you all soon. Bye-bye.” You smile and wave to the camera as you end the video, preparing it to be sent off.
You thought about the number of people who would be here just in a few months. People of all ages and backgrounds had signed up to come, including children with their parents, so you could study how it would affect people of different ages, bodies, etc.
Just as you were walking out of your personal quarters, you bumped into Chris. “Oh, sorry about that,” he apologized, steading two mugs he held, “Tea?” You smiled at the raspberry tea he had become famous for making you every evening.
“Thank you,” you happily grabbed one of the mugs and began drinking, “Just sent off the good news to base.” Chris raised his eyebrows before swallowing his own mouthful of tea.
“Are you excited?”
“You have no idea.”
“Yeah, it’ll be nice to have others around. Not that you’re not awesome.” Chris playfully elbowed you on the arm as you started leading him to the cameras in the kitchen. You wanted to check on the gardens and green life you had been nursing for the past 9 years.”
“No, I get it. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner on this, but man has it been a long nearly a decade.” Chris blew out a heavy sigh.
“God, has it really been that long? Seems like yesterday we got here,” you nodded your head as you checked off every camera for the night, “Well, I’m happy I spent it with you, too. How much you think we missed at home?” Now you let out a deep sigh.
“Who knows. The little information I’ve gathered hasn’t been too interesting, but I’m sure there’ll be something that’ll throw us off. You think socks with slippers are finally socially acceptable in public?” You looked down on your comfort shoes before meeting his eyes.
“If they haven’t, I think they’ll have to make an exception for you. You rock it so well,” he grinned at you.
You laughed loudly, and he joined in. “Thank you, I’ll put in a good word for your stained shirts.” Chris mockingly rolled his eyes, causing another laugh to leave your lips, before he finished his tea. He took your empty mug to the sink as you got up to shower and prepare for the night.
As you were in the shower you heard your door opening. “What the Hell, Beck, I’m in the shower.” your mind thought to the cameras in the bathroom that would no doubt see him walking in. Though the toilet and shower area were out of reach of the camera’s view, you still found the invasion too much. Sure they wanted to make sure you and Chris were staying strictly professional, you’d be lying if you said you and him didn’t turn off the cameras every once in a while to get in a quickie.
You didn’t hear a response, so you opened the curtain to see nobody there. But your door was open. Huh, weird. Maybe he was just dropping something off?
Once done in your shower, you made your way to your room and shrieked when you found Chris lying nude on the bed. “Chris, the cameras!”
“Relax, babe, I turned them off. Think I’m a dumbass or something?”
You looked suspiciously at him for a second. “How, the cameras need a password that only I have.” It was your computer after all.
Chris reached for a slip of paper on the bedside table that wasn’t there before. It was the very one Dr. Grudge had given to you before the mission. “You hide everything in the same place. Under your sink isn’t the most clever hiding place, honey.” You rolled your eyes before shaking your head at him.
“You’re something else, Beck.”
“You love it. Now come on, it’s been two weeks, I’m hard as fuck, baby,” Chris pouted as he grabbed his massive member. You could feel your pussy clench at his words, and at how much you had missed him inside you. It had been a long two weeks.
You discarded the towel that covered your modesty, quickly climbing on the bed to straddle his hips. Chris hurriedly grabbed onto yours, both of you moaning in unison as you sunk down to his limit.
“Fuck, daddy. You feel so good inside me,” you moaned as you found a rough but steady rhythm.
Chris growled, “Yeah? You like it when I fuck your tight little cunt? God, you’re so tight. I don’t think I’m fucking you enough, what do you think, hmm?” That’s when he took over and started thrusting up into you at a fast rate. The only sounds that could be heard were your loud moans of pleasure and skin against skin. If you listened hard enough, you could just barely hear the sounds of your pussy squelching around his dick.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so hard, you wanna cum baby? Wanna cum all over my fat cock?” Chris’ thrusts got faster and harder as he reached a hand down to play with your clit. “Come on, honey, cum for me. Cum for daddy.”
“Arg- oh God I’m coming!” you screamed out, drenching Chris in your juices. Chris continued to chase his own pleasure, you still trying to recover from the powerful orgasm. You tried to lift yourself from you to help him cum elsewhere, but Chris’ grip on you never faltered.
“Let me cum inside you, I wanna feel your tight walls around me as I dump my load into you.” You quickly dropped from your post-orgasmic state at his words. You shook your head hurriedly.
“No, you know I’m not on birth control,” you couldn’t have them due to them being destroyed on the journey here, “Pull out!” The pull-out method wasn’t the best plan, but it had been working just fine for the past 9 years. You couldn’t risk a pregnancy ruining the progress you had made, the academy would no doubt fire you both.
“I spoke to Mark the other day, they lifted that rule a little while ago now,” Chris grunted, his orgasm was getting close, “With them sending supplies I figured we could easily get something to prepare for a baby. They’ll be here in what? 6 at most 8 months. You’ll still be pregnant with my baby by then. Our baby.”
You shook your head. This was madness, even if the rule wasn’t in force you were in no place to have a baby right now. You still wanted to further your career, and you certainly didn’t want to have a baby with Chris. He was a good man, but you couldn’t see yourself with him in that position.
“Chris, stop. This isn’t funny, let go now. I won’t tell anyone you did this if you stop now.”
Chris just laughed at you, “Can’t do that, baby. I want you to make me a real daddy, I’ve waited long enough. We’re. Perfect. For. Each. Other.” Each word was accompanied by a hard thrust, soon you felt warmth flooding your channel. “Fuck! Take it, take my load.” Chris continued pushing his cum further into you, working himself down his high.
Chris held you to him as he stayed inside you. He stroked your back as he slowly pulled out of you, forcing your limp body into a position on your stomach. You were too numb to fight back, tears were starting to form in your eyes that you quickly blinked away.
“You’re gonna be such a good mom, I can see it now,” Chris mumbled as he cupped your stomach before shoving his hardening cock back into you. This was going to be a long next few months.
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Bite me
34, 35, 36 - smut september -
The music was loud in your small shared apartment and you could feel the bass coming from the speakers all around you. It was either the music or your intoxicated system but it was as if the vibrations were travelling through your body, keeping your eyes open and making you very alert. All your senses were working overdrive and everything was effervescent and glowing.
It was the type drunk that made you want to do things. Things you maybe wouldn’t usually think of doing or even fathom, but at that moment all you could think about was having your hands on Van. You needed him now and you needed him close.
Now with a mission, you scoped the scene of your living room, panning across each body like they were nothing until you could see your man. He was laughing with some of your friends you had invited, friends you'd probably want to engage in conversation with. But after a long week and your growing need for Van, you ignored the normal social procedures. Walking up to him only offering a smile and reserved nod at the people around you and tightening your grip on Vans arm.
You stood shyly beside him, slightly behind him and resting your head on his back. Your senses immediately picked up on the closeness, his scent filling you making your knees weak. Your slight stumble brought Van to attention and a cute frown to his features.
“You alright babe?” He whispered to you, leaning towards you although he didn’t need to because you were completely drawn into him.
“Hmm.” You hummed trying to push the sordid thoughts out of your head. It was agonising but you didn't want to ruin his fun and drag him away.
“You sure, you seem...odd?” He chose his words carefully but still seemed unsatisfied with the outcome of his dedication. All you did was nod sweetly, returning the smile to him and closing your eyes, your head still resting on his frame.
The conversation returned back to normal, although your desires took over once more. Forcing your hand to slip under his shirt, teasing around the waistband of his jeans, drawing a shiver from him. It satisfied you, the effect you had on him, daring you to roam further, skimming the top of his boxers before dancing up his spine.
With your movements clearly affecting him it didn't surprise you in the slightest when he ended the conversation with his mates, taking your hand and leading you both to your bedroom. His pace was slow and chilled, but his grip around your hand was tight and it sent excited nerves through your body. When you both made it to the solitude of your room he pinned you against the door, looking deep into your eyes.
“You're driving me crazy love,” He sighed, letting out clear frustration that had been pent up.
“Could say the same.” You whispered back, his face was close to yours, nearly touching and the heat was causing your body to crave his touch.
He smiled at your reply, going to your neck, placing dainty kisses up along the skin to your jaw. As he got further up they became rougher and he started sucking until marks were definitely being left. His intent made you more frustrated for his touch, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to your body.
“Babe-” He tried for words but gave up when your hips bucked into his involuntarily in pure want for him. With your actions he lifted you up and carried you over to the bed laying you down and looking down at you in awe. He moved to balance on his knees over you, his palms still flat on your torso. You could feel him hardening from beneath you already, turning you on even more.
“Tell me what you want.” He murmured into your ear, the warm air sending you into a frenzy, desperate to feel him everywhere, making your dark side come out. Ready to feel your boyfriend dominate you.
“Bite me.” Your words came out simply as if it was nothing but he saw that behind your eyes was lust and need for it rough.
Without a second glance, he grinned as if he was chuckling to himself “If you insist.” He laughed, digging his teeth into your shoulder, his mouth trailing down, teeth digging into the skin he brushed past until he got to your knees.
He lingered over the fabric of your panties before dragging them down and chucking them behind him. His breath against your core alerted you, making your eyes close and let out a hard sigh. He was just testing the water, however, it wasn’t what you needed. You needed him now, and to take charge.
“Vaan.” You let out, but it was enough for him to understand, making him move up. You were face to face now, except now he had eased a finger into, thumb massaging your clit until your whole body was shaking with pleasure.
“Being a good girl for me baby.” Van sneered unbuttoning his jeans and undressing completely. You could feel the sweat on your forehead and you pushed your hair back, preparing for him. Soon enough he was straddling you pulling your legs around his waist, looking deep in your eyes that had definitely darkened with lust.
That minute of eye contact was enough to tell him you were ready, all the consent he needed to hear was there in that look. He leaned down, positioning himself so that he was just brushing over your heat. His head was buried in your neck, kissing and nibbling, those kisses getting more ragged each time he teased in.
His pace increased when you arms wrapped around him, digging into his back with anticipation. From then he took his control further, pushing your hips down into the bed beneath you both and holding you tight with every thrust in. You could feel him everywhere and it felt like he was touching your soul deep inside in some weird way.
“God, uhh-” You were starting to become undone, quicker than you expected as he carried on pushing into you at a pace that had just been discovered by the two of you. Your legs were still wrapped tightly around him and you were certain you’d leave red scratches along his back.
You knew he was close and with every missed thrust he let out a deep, guttural moan, showing his obvious pleasure. One last push into you brought you to a climax practically screaming out his name when he bit deep into your shoulder, trying to hold back the moans with pleasure.
You both stayed for a second in the same position, savouring the moment together, not wanting to be left without him. “Fuck love that was, wow-“ He sighed, head still on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath back from your activities.
“That was fucking insane,” You exclaimed, relating to his shock. “babe I’m so sorry, your back I-“ You fussed looking at the damage you’d done, red lines marking down his back as if he’d just been attacked.
“Love, look at what I did to you, people will think I’m abusing you!” His face was a mix of amusement and worry. You smiled at his face, reaching out to cup it in your hands, full of love for your boy.
“Aren’t we a pair.”You smiled, happy to have him.
A/n: heyoo, so this is the first of what I hope many, depending on how much my motivation dwindles aha. All the requests that aren’t smut September will be posted on weekends so don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about you xx em
#van mccann#van mccann fanfic#van mccann x reader#van#vanfic#vanfiction#Smut#van smut#smut september#smut smut smut#catb#Catfish and the Bottlemen#catfish#catfish and the bottlemen fanfic#catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction#catfish and the bottlemen x reader#catb fanfic#catb fanfiction#van mccann fanfiction#van mccan fic
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Control and Release - 29
Series Masterlist
TEDTalk!Sam x Reader
Summary: After the rest of the staff is caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester. As the arrangement becomes more defined, you and Sam begin a sexual adventure with dangerous consequences.
Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.
Beta: @ilikaicalie
Words: 2.4k
Parts 1-35 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including the ABO series Gods of Twilight and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<
-
You fully intend to clean yourself up before the big presentation. Despite Sam’s insistence on your experiencing the full after-effects of your quick afternoon fuck, you’re not living in a twenty-four-seven sexual fantasy. This is real life and you can’t have cum dripping down your thighs while you’re presenting to Toni Bevel.
After a pit stop in the bathroom to clean yourself up, you head to the conference room. You manage to get there with just enough time to set up your presentation and pull yourself together before people start arriving.
Toni is the last to show up. She arrives with Mick, failing to even acknowledge your presence as she sits down and begins reading something on her iPad. Part of you wonders if she’s still carrying a torch for Sam, there has to be a reason she hates you in such brazen style. Maybe she hates everyone, she seems like the type.
The beginning goes well. You’re halfway through a slide show, trying to make office comradery seem invaluable when you can feel it. There’s a wet sensation and the slide of what’s left of Sam’s cum is making its way down your thighs.
It’s not that anyone would know, but the instant you feel it happening there’s a sick feeling. You fidget around, trying to clamp your legs together, garnering looks from both Cole and Toni. Stumbling through the next few slides you’re all too happy when a corporate video pops up and you push play, excusing yourself to run to the restroom.
Both embarrassed and a little turned on you clean yourself up for the second time and make it back to the conference room just in time to see the video finish.
“Does anyone have any questions?” you ask.
“I’m not sure I fully understand,” Toni begins. “So your position is to talk to people, make friends and...what? Help wayward outsiders acclimate to their new role?”
“It’s more nuanced than that.” You refuse to look away as she stares you down. She knows your secret, but you know hers too. Simply having the knowledge she’s slept with Sam Winchester and that he rejected her, shifts the power. She’s still the heavy hitter but you’ve gained a bit of leverage.
“Oh, I’m sure it is. The devil is always in the details.” She blinks, unmoving and locked onto you like a bird of prey.
“It’s been invaluable,” Cole speaks up, leaning forward. “My job is to pick teams that work well together. The liaison position isn’t just socializing. It’s analyzing the quarterly behavioral preference tests, sorting through the employee satisfaction survey we take every month. Winchester believes that pairing the right people is what sets W&S above and beyond other firms that provided these services. We’re effective because we have the right people in the right places. That’s what Y/N does.”
“The right people in the right places,” Toni repeats with a subtle hint of amusement and your cheeks turn red. “Right, then. I’m not sure this required an entire presentation but I can see the value.”
Almost everyone leaves and you check your email as Cole does the same.
“You alright?” he asks.
“I’m fine, why?”
“You seemed...agitated, distracted. That’s not your norm.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I know certain topics are off limits, but if you need to talk to someone about the panic attacks, I’m here. I had a rough time after I got out of the service. I get it.” His offer is casual, in fact, he barely glances up and you’re grateful. Not everything has to become such a big deal.
“Thanks.” The truth is you like Cole, you have from the beginning and having a friendship would certainly make everything else easier. “Maybe we could have a drink one night.”
-
There’s a metal bar affixed to the door that leads to Sam’s bedroom from the parlor. It’s normally higher up, he uses it for pullups in the morning, but tonight it’s been lowered and repurposed. Your hands are in cuffs above your head, looped over the bar. The flats of your feet are able to touch the ground, but just barely, forcing you to focus on posture so that your weight isn’t a strain on your wrists.
The first thing he did was strip you naked and tie a blindfold over your eyes. You can’t see the rest but you can feel it, nearly shaking in anticipation, waiting not-so-patiently while he gets you ready.
There’s the click of metal and cold steel around both ankles. It only takes a minute to realize you can no longer close your legs. He’s using a spreader bar to hold you open. There’s nothing but the sound of him moving quietly around you and then a warm hand on your belly. You flinch at his touch, excitement and nervous tension building in tandem.
“Do you know what this for?” he asks. He’s close, so close that you feel his breath on your cheek when he speaks.
“Yes.” You nod, mouth open in an anticipatory pant.
“Tell me.”
“I came without permission.”
“You came twice without permission. Both times after I specifically instructed you not to.” He corrects, swatting your ass with an open palm. You yelp, twisting in the restraints, dangling and trussed up.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t.” One finger trails up your spine and then around your ribs, stopping to trace the underside of your breast. “There are repercussions for a lack of self-control.”
“I understand.” This is definitely something new. He’s normally not one for toys and contraptions. While he often incorporates a dildo or vibrators, it doesn’t get more elaborate than that.
“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”
Your jaw falls open as you wait to find out what comes next. A sizable ball gag is shoved between your teeth and fastened at the back of your head.
“This,” he grabs your pussy, cupping your sex with one huge hand. “This is mine. Your orgasms are mine. Do you understand?”
“Ahuh,” you mumble through the gag as his hand leaves your crotch.
“I’m not sure that you do.” His voice is deadpan, emotionless and yet filled with the disappointment of an unhappy father. Two hands cup your breasts and then tweak both nipples in tandem, squeezing and plucking until they’re stiff little peaks. Then he’s gone again, only to return with the sound of metal clanking in his hand.
Without warning you feel a metal clamp close over your right nipple, tiny little teeth sinking into flesh as you jerk against your bonds. Before you stop moving he manages to attach the second one as well, both of them painfully tight.
Your clit throbs and your pussy goes slick in a matter of moments. In the past, there’s been a build up to this point. He’d use the clamps but tighten them incrementally. Tonight he’s using them as punishment, crushing your tender buds with no warning.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, giving the chain between them a tug. You yelp into the gag and nod fervently in confirmation. “Good. I bet your cunt is wet.”
His hand pushes between your thighs, his middle finger wiggling into your pussy to check. He finds exactly what he expects, you’re slick with arousal, body forever betraying how much you enjoy the pain.
“You can’t help it, can you? You need it, to be disciplined, taught a lesson. This desperate little pussy is begging for it.”
“Uh,” you moan, feeling drool ooze from around the gag and slide over your chin.
Sam tugs the clamps with one hand and swats your ass with the other. Three tugs and three spanks as you squirm, utterly helpless.
“What’s the safe word?” he asks, leaning closer.
“Op,” you manage a muffled version of stop.
“Louder,” he instructs.
“Op!” you repeat.
“Good. I don’t expect you to use it unless you absolutely need to. This is supposed to be a punishment. You’re not going to enjoy all of it. Are you going to be good for me?”
“Yesh,” you agree.
You’ve never used the safe word before and the fact that he’s brought it up has you a little worried.
He swipes the drool from your chin and wipes it on your breasts, purposely pushes against the clamps. Whimpering, you hang there, trying to listen for any hints. You feel him spread your sex open to expose your clit. Then there’s something gooey rubbing over your little bud. He massages the substance for a few seconds and then backs away.
There’s nothing...then a cold sensation. It starts as a little tingle and then gets more intense. It gets colder and colder and the sensation becomes more complex. It’s straddling the line between stinging and tingling, more intense than you were prepared for.
You moan again and again, yanking at the cuffs and crying in desperation to close your thighs for some relief, but the bar at your ankles has you permanently open.
Nipples burning, clit engulfed in this sensation, your cunt is aching, slick sliding down your inner thighs. You’re often aroused despite feelings of humiliation but this is a whole new level.
“Control yourself,” he hisses and gives your pussy a nasty spank. You jerk, neck falling back as the clamps jiggle and your clit begins to throb harder. There’s a second whack, his hand managing to hit your clit and pussy at the same time. He wipes your juices on your belly. “Look at how fucking wet you are. You’re drooling from your mouth and this needy little cunt. How am I supposed to teach you a lesson when you enjoy the punishment this much?”
His finger finds your clit. It’s burning now, swollen and tingling with cold fire as he pinches it between his fingers. You try to pull away, twisting and shuffling your feet but there’s nowhere to go.
“Look at you...you should see yourself.” He presses his chest against your back, rolling your bud between his fingers. “Desperate and swollen and begging to be fucked. Do you want a cock in your pussy?”
“Hmm,” you groan, eyes opening and closing behind the blindfold. It’s not really a response, just a desperate sound. You’re so mixed up you don’t know if want it to stop or keep going. You don’t know if you want him to fuck you or spoon you. What you do know is that you’re aching to be filled.
“You’re so wet I could probably fist you...if I wanted to. Stretch you open while you’re strung up. You couldn’t stop me if you wanted too.”
“Oo,” you shake your head no. The idea of him fisting you is something you might be willing to consider but not in this position.
He chuckles, two fingers scissoring on either side of your clit and pressing down.
“You want my cock?” he asks, the heat of his chest pressed against your shoulder blades.
“Yesh,” you nod furiously. There are tears on your cheeks while he slowly masturbates you.
“You’re not going to cum tonight. Do you understand?”
“Yesh.” You’re feverish now, broken at the thought of being this worked up but being denied relief.
His hand leaves your clit, fingers curling around your hip and pulling you back toward him. A moment later you feel his cock poking against your ass before slipping between your thighs. He takes his dick in his hand, guiding the head into your soaked hole from behind. From this position he can easily fuck you without the danger of getting any of the mysterious substance on himself.
With one thrust he pushes forward and pulls you back in tandem. You’re on your toes as he strokes deep inside. You whimper, drool dripping from your chin onto your breasts. Reaching around he gives the clamps a tug, slowly fucking you and yanking on the clamps in rhythm until you’re delirious from the wonderful combination of pleasure and pain.
You could cum if you let yourself. If you relax you’ll have an orgasm on the spot but you keep your mind focused on the task at hand, holding yourself together long enough for Sam to finish. He must be worked up because it doesn’t take him very long. He’s normally got unmatched stamina, but the buildup had an effect on him. It’s only a few minutes of his drilling into you before he grabs one breast, the other hand on your hip, pulling you back into him as he cums. His thrusts slow down, fucking you slow and measured until his load is running down your legs for the third time that day.
“Fuck,” he huffs. He pulls out, letting you feel the final drag of his cock before it pops free. You’re wound up tight, vibrating in pleasure and pain, hovering right at the edge of what could be the ultimate pleasure, but you’re not about to break the rules again.
You grunt into the gag, and immediately he’s unbuckling it, pulling it free from your mouth and letting it drop onto the floor.
“Are you alright?” he murmurs, his mouth pressed into your cheek.
“I think so. I’ll let you know in a minute.”
Sam quickly releases you from the restraints and then picks you up with a satisfied little grin and carries you to the shower where he washes you gently until all traces of the event are washed away.
“You were incredible,” he says, kneeling on the tile, wiping a cloth softly between your legs. When he does he places a kiss on your belly. You watch this beautiful man on his knees in front of you, the water cascading over him like something out of a dream. He catches you watching him and stands up.
“What did you put on me?” you ask as both his hands slide under your jaw. You’re still swimming somewhere on the edge of pleasure, whole body quivering like jelly.
Sam grins, tilting his head as he inspects your face, apparently enjoying what he sees.
“Toothpaste.”
“Really?” You’re surprised, amazed that something so simple could cause such delicious torture.
“It’s effective without being too much.” His thumb lands under your chin, tilting you up to focus on him. “It wasn't too much, was it?”
“I would have told you if it was.”
Once you’re both cleaned up, you wander out of the bathroom wrapped in a thick robe. Sam’s got a towel around his hips, balancing a laptop on one hand, already checking his email. You stop to admire the sight of him, wet hair slicked back and strong, long muscle. He somehow becomes more attractive the longer you’re with him.
Out of the silence, comes the muted music from somewhere outside the building.
“What’s that?” you ask, sitting on the couch.
He cracks open the door to the balcony and the soft strains of a violin waft inward. “There’s a string quartet playing on the street.”
“I love this place, being right in the city like this. I’d never want to live here full time or anything but it’s a nice change of pace.”
“I agree. Room service?” Sam towels off his hair and brings you a paper menu, before going back to his computer.
“Yes,” you snatch it away from him looking over the options.
It’s as you’re reading the ingredients list for the chowder that the old familiar sensation bubbles up. It starts as a tingling somewhere in the back of your head, accompanied by an anxious feeling. Unknown panic builds slowly as you try to regain control, taking a few deep breaths and sitting back against the cushions.
“Sam.” You close your eyes, fists balling up.
“Hmm?” He’s distracted.
“Something’s happening.”
“What kind of something?” he asks but in reality, he already knows, his voice moving closer and the couch sinking down beside you. “Right now?”
“Ahm,” you nod, opening your eyes to look at him. “I can’t breath.”
“Yes, you can.” He snakes a hand inside your robe, placing it over your chest. “Deep breaths with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” He breathes in and out loud and slow as you try to match him.
For a moment you think it’s helping but then you feel a surge whirling up from the depths and before you know it you’re hyperventilating and your vision goes fuzzy.
“I-I’m gonna…pass out,” you wheeze, gulping desperately for air like a fish on dry land. You reach out, grabbing his hand and holding on tight as fear takes over.
“It’s okay, I’m right here.” He reassures you, watching with a furrowed brow as you stare at him wide-eyed, losing consciousness. His face is fuzzy, then blurry and the sound of his voice slows down. “You’re going to wake up in a few minutes and you’ll be just fine. I’m right-”
And then nothing.
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Fyolai OTP List
Original list taken from sonse’s The Ultimate OTP Questions List: Fyogol Edition
I urge anyone interested in my list to go look at sonse’s, too. They have a lot of cool takes. (There’re 48 questions in total.)
1. Who is the most affectionate?
Neither of them are super affectionate or touchy-feely, really.. I guess you could say that Fyodor’s more touchy, but even then it’s usually only fingertips… But yeah, usually there isn’t much touching in general.
2. Most common argument?
Argument… Well, it’s hard to really call it an argument. Usually, Nikolai’ll get upset at Fyodor not seeing him as a person or manipulating him and go off for a few days or weeks until he can come back and pretend he was never upset. Fyodor, for his part, doesn’t acknowledge it and just welcomes Nikolai back when he returns.
3. Who apologizes first?
Well... Fyodor's too arrogant to assume he's done something wrong, and Nikolai's too prone to brush past things he doesn't want to think about... So they kinda just leave it to fester in the corner and continue about their days.
4. Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?
It depends on the mood. But, most commonly, Fyodor's favourite activity is to curl up in a private place (library, nook, underground base, etc.) with Nikolai and read with him, each occasionally sharing thoughts or questions--or even conversations--about their individual books. Nikolai's favourite activity, however, is taking Fyodor out to a carnival, or the theatre, or a fair--something fun and flashy.
5. Who drives and who rides shotgun?
Public transportation~ (though, in cases where that's not possible, it just depends on location and need, so probably about 60/40 for Nikolai and Fyodor.)
6. Who is most likely to carry the other?
Nikolai's way more likely to carry Fyodor as, well, Fyodor'd struggle to lift someone his own weight. That being said, I don't see this happening unless out of necessity, as they're both fairly independent.
7. Nicknames?
Russian ones? Yes, probably. I imagine Nikolai'd call Fyodor Fedya (since he calls him Dos-kun in Japanese), and Fyodor... he'd probably just stick with the name Nikolai (or maybe “golubchik” (little dove) on rare occasions?).
8. Who proposes?
Ehh, I highly doubt they'd get married, since Nikolai's all 'society's norms are hellish brainwashing' and Fyodor likely just doesn't care (it’d be a hassle for nothing).
9. Who sings along to the radio?
Nikolai, though it's rarely lyrics since all Fyodor listens to is classical pieces or old operas Nikolai can't decipher. He'll hum along quite a lot, though.
10. Who worries most?
I feel like Nikolai's more of a worrier in general. Like, in his moments of downtime, with nothing to distract him from the futility of his goals, he'll worry and worry about what he should do, what he's doing, how what he'll do will affect the future, etc. Fyodor's more sure of himself, so I don't see him worrying about much. Maybe about Dazai, though...
11. Who always wants to take selfies with the other?
Nikolai would secretly like to (though not so secretly, considering how perceptive Fyodor is), but Fyodor won't let evidence of himself in a location be found, lest the picture be stolen and used against him. Nikolai usually doesn't mind, though, unless they're in a once-in-a-decade place. He complained about not being able to hold onto mental pictures like Fyodor once, when they went to see a travelling fair that was doing its last tour.
12. Who likes to playfully tease the other?
Nikolai, completely. He'll enter the room with a joke, and leave it that way too, as well as adding them in the whole way through. Fyodor, though, I'd say teases back almost as much, just more subtly and in response. Nikolai initiates the teasing, and Fyodor finishes it with a tease.
13. Who has the weirdest taste in music?
Depends on your definition of weird. Fyodor listens to mainly classical and old operas, stuff like that, whereas Nikolai's more into modern things with some sort of twist (experimental jazz or electric swing, for example). He also loves musical theatre.
14. Who remembers what the other always orders at a restaurant?
Well Fyodor remembers everything Nikolai's ever ordered when they were together... Using a word like 'always', though... Fyodor remembers what Nikolai ordered but Nikolai usually gets something different each time, and Fyodor's more uniform with his palate choices, but still tends towards trying out new things half the time. Fyodor could guess what Nikolai was going to get, though.
15. Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?
Hm, neither of them are.
17. Who initiates kisses?
Depends on the situation, so I'd say about 50/50. Neither of them are touchy-feely, as I've said, and kissing is only slightly more common than hugs for them. But, generally, Fyodor kisses Nikolai when Nikolai's having a rough day, or when he's trying to get Nikolai to want to do something. Nikolai kisses Fyodor when he's in a really good mood, or when he's really in a bad mood... I'm not sure how to put it properly though...
18. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?
They don’t, really.
19. Who kisses hardest?
I honestly don't know... I really liked the second half of sonse's answer though.
20. Who is most ticklish?
Nikolai.
21. Who brings an animal they found home?
Fyodor would kill the animal to put it out of its misery.
Nikolai would just walk past and think that there's no point in helping.
22. Who holds the umbrella for the other when it’s raining?
Nikolai, since he's taller and his arm doesn't tire as easily.
23. Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?
Neither, embarrassing each other isn't something they do.
24. Who kills the scary bugs?
I mean neither of them are afraid of bugs-
25. Who asks the weird questions at random in the middle of the night?
Nikolai'll wake up from any number of bizarre dreams, and, if Fyodor's still awake, he'll bring it up.
26. Who hogs the blankets?
Fyodor. If he's asleep, his subconscious will do all in its power to make him as warm and comfortable as possible, even if it means the freeze of his dear friend (Nikolai usually just ends up draping himself in his cape at that point).
27. Who wakes up first?
Nikolai wakes up first since he goes to sleep earlier, though he only wakes up first by about thirty minutes.
28. Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?
Depends... Fyodor's good about getting up when it's a workday, and on the rare day's he'll take off, he still usually gets up quickly to make the most of the day, and drags himself off to the shower. Nikolai, on the other hand... Well, it depends on several things. If he's alright or moderately alright, he'll get out of bed just fine. However, if he killed someone in the month or just, in general, can't stand himself, it'll be a lot harder to convince him to get up. Some days even a gun to his head won't get him out of bed.
29. Who always makes coffee for the other each morning?
Neither. Ivan makes Fyodor's tea and Nikolai makes his own.
30. Who cries during certain films or when reading sad books?
Haaaah, well I guess if Nikolai was in a really, really, really (and I mean REALLY) bad place, something might set him off, and a few tears may fall. It's super uncommon though--he usually just bottles his emotions until he can 'forget' about them.
31. Who gets scared during horror films?
Neither of them scares easily at all.
32. Who cuts the other’s hair?
They both cut their own.
33. Who says “I love you” first?
Fyodor says it first, as a way to get Nikolai fully on his side. Nikolai’s said it a few times, in despair, but always pretends it didn’t happen afterwards.
34. Who tells their friends/family about the relationship first?
Well there isn't really a 'relationship' to tell about? They don't classify their relationship as anything other than lovers and friends, and there’s really no point in mentioning it randomly.
35. What do their friends/family think about the relationship first?
Well... Pushkin hates Fyodor, always has and always will, and considering how their relationship started... Pushkin does have a reason. Goncharov doesn't care. Fyodor's mother and sister vaguely know about Nikolai. They've met him maybe once or twice, but they just know him as 'Fyodor's friend'. Turgenev... it's best to say that his relationship with Fyodor is... turbulent... but when they end up talking their conversations are usually very fascinating (if they can get over their mutual disdain, that is). Mishima flat-out couldn't care less, why is this being brought up to him?
36. Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?
Nikolai, probably, after being moved by Dostoyevsky's cello playing.
37. Who cooks best?
I'd say they're about the same.
38. Who wears the other’s jacket?
Neither. Nikolai needs his for his Ability and Fyodor's the one that gets cold easily. Nikolai does, however, keep a spare cloak in his Overcoat just in case (though whether or not he’ll offer it to Fyodor depends on his mood, and Fyodor never asks).
39. Who uses cheesy pickup lines?
Nikolai.
40. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?
Both, but in different contexts. Nikolai spontaneously gets ideas from things around them, and excitedly likes to share them with Fyodor on a whim. Fyodor likes to respond to them with a small quip to encourage the idea, though he sometimes does them just in general if he's super bored at a social gathering or something. In any case, they usually do it in a language no one else around is likely to speak.
41. Who makes the other laugh most?
Fyodor makes Nikolai laugh all the time, though those laughs are always sort of fake (like an extreme version of a small, polite chuckle). Sometimes, though, when Nikolai's in a really good mood, the laughs will be genuine. On the other hand, Nikolai tries to make Fyodor laugh, but doesn't succeed. In the end, neither of them are much to laugh.
42. Who needs more reassurance?
Nikolai, definitely. Fyodor's sure of himself and his plans, and so is Nikolai to an extent, but Nikolai still gets doubts, which is when Fyodor comes in to tell him that everything is going to work out.
43. Who would have to bail the other out of jail?
Well... I don't think either of them would pay for bail, but Nikolai'll be fishing Fyodor out of jail (or general captivity) pretty regularly. (It's just such an easy way to extract information!)
44. What would be their theme song?
Oh boy I have no clue- Maybe ‘The Land of Might-Have-Been’?
45. Who would sing their child back to sleep?
Fyodor, as he softly touches their forehead and watches the blood pour from their slack lips- On second thought, maybe children isn't such a good idea...
46. What do they do when they’re away from each other?
Oh, all sorts of things. Fyodor does work, gets kidnapped, messes with Dazai. Nikolai bounces from place to place, spends time with friends, finds work or other such things to do. In the end, they don't actually spend that much time together.
47. A headcanon about them that stabs your feels?
Neither will ever truly achieve fulfilment.
48. A headcanon that mends the previous one?
:')
#bsd list#fyolai#fyogol#nikolai gogol#bsd nikolai gogol#nikolai#gogol#bsd nikolai#bsd gogol#gogol nikolai#bsd gogol nikolai#fyodor dostoyevsky#bsd fyodor dostoyevsky#fyodor#dostoyevsky#bsd fyodor#bsd dostoyevsky#dostoyevsky fyodor#bsd dostoyevsky fyodor#nikolai x fyodor#gogol x fyodor#nikolai x dostoyevsky#gogol x dostoyevsky#fyolai list#otp list#bsd#anathe
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Fine Line - Track-by-track rating
I’m in the mood to start shit. So here it is. My comprehensive album rating list. Rating subcategories should be self-explanatory, but I’m judging based on lyrics, how listen-able the song is overall, how interesting it is in terms of JUST sound, and crafting/production/my perceived idea of how well done the entire song is in terms of all the elements combined. Think about the effort that Liam put into his album vs. the effort Harry put into SOTT. What was written and created with intent and what was created maybe more for the sake of creating. Then, I did ACTUAL MATH and came up with an overall score out of ten. Read with caution and yell at me if you feel the need.
Golden:
Lyrics - 7/10
“I know that you’re scared because I’m so open” is fantastic and it’s great to see him literally being more open with his songwriting, but he loses some points for the general repetitive nature and more common turns of phrase.
General listen-ability - 10/10
It’s an easy song to listen to, whether you’re putting it on for background noise, listening while driving, or listening specifically with the intent of paying attention and enjoying.
Sonic intrigue - 8/10
The slower beginning and then the slam into the guitars and drums is great. It flows nicely and has a good pace/rhythm.
Crafting - 9/10
Overall: 34/40 = 8.5/10
Watermelon Sugar:
Lyrics - 6/10
Nothing particularly thrilling. It’s a generally fun song with some lyrics that are suggestive but not overtly so. Good to know that he’s enthusiastic about oral, but again, it’s not his finest lyrical work.
General listen-ability - 8/10
Another more easy listening track. Good for any time. A fun, sexy little bop.
Sonic intrigue - 7/10
The horns and bass line save this song from otherwise being a bit lackluster in terms of production, and make it interesting in a subtle, understated way that’s very enjoyable.
Crafting - 8/10
Overall: 29/40 = 7.3/10
Adore You:
Lyrics - 7/10
Kinda cliche and corny; “I get so lost inside your eyes”. Otherwise, very fun and leans heavily into a more pop lens. Makes up for it with “You don’t have to say you love me / You don’t have to say nothing / You don’t have to say you’re mine” and the “Oh honey”s.
General listen-ability - 10/10
I want to listen to this song all day every day. There has to be something in the soundwaves that’s brainwashing me. Can’t stop won’t stop.
Sonic intrigue - 9/10
At first glance (listen) it’s a very basic sort of pop song. But the more you listen, you realize that it’s rooted in a more funk-style guitar lick and utilizes synths in a way that doesn’t come off as too manufactured or ‘fake’. It’s layered; you find more and more complexity with each spin.
Crafting - 9/10
Overall: 35/40 = 8.8/10
Lights Up:
Lyrics - 8/10
The lyrical structure, if you look at it on paper, could easily be read as some type of poetry. The song opens with a question: ‘What do you mean?’ and then proceeds to offer fragments of sentences that aren’t necessarily connected, but somehow offer a cohesive picture — a message that’s still a little unclear but offers multiple interpretations in meaning.
General listen-ability - 9/10
It’s fun and boppy but also surprisingly mellow. For me personally, the tempo and bass mean that it can be hit or miss in terms of how/when I want to listen to it, but for the most part, I don’t skip it. This might also have to do with it being the first song we heard from him since HS1, and I might have overkilled it a bit.
Sonic intrigue - 8/10
It’s hard to not compare this song to his work on HS1, for the reasons above. HS1 was definitely more rock-oriented; more bare bones production and an ode to the more classic methods of music making ie singer, guitar, bass, and drums. Whereas with this song, it was essentially a complete 180 in style and production, with a little flair of R&B style music while maintaining his classic air of whimsy in both the lyrics and his less-frequently-used breathy head voice. Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that it’s a Harry Styles song.
Crafting - 8/10
Overall: 33/40 = 8.3/10
Cherry:
Lyrics - 8/10
One of Harry’s many talents is his ability to project tone with the combination of how he sings/emotes with his voice with the lyrics he’s singing. This song is no exception. It’s a sadder, more melancholic song, where he’s expressing some less-than-pleasant feelings, and you’re not only getting that from the words he’s singing, but HOW he’s singing it. It allows the listening to feel and empathize. It’s something he’s very masterful at. (See: the opposite would be something like Adore You, which under the guise of a more upbeat song, the lyrics are actually kind of sad and grovel-y)
General listen-ability - 7/10
I respect his artistic vision and the choice to include the voice note but as part of a general playlist, it can come off a little odd and out of place. Otherwise it’s very palatable. It just makes me sad, so I don’t often intentionally put it on to listen.
Sonic intrigue - 7/10
I liken this to a FTDT style song. Very raw. More singer-songwriter than pop. Some very lovely guitar playing and it’s nice hearing him sing in a register that’s been essentially neglected up until this album. But for the most part, I don’t think it’s his most interesting work. Very typical singer-songwriter guitar type song.
Crafting - 8/10
Overall: 30/40 = 7.5/10
Falling:
Lyrics - 7/10
I enjoy and appreciate his honesty, and perhaps there’s something to be said about the lack of flowery turns of phrase, but I just don’t feel like this is his most clever work. Again, great to see him being so honest, but it sounds like the extended version of If I Could Fly.
General listen-ability - 6/10
I can’t allow this to randomly come on shuffle without putting myself at risk of a depressive spiral. That’s where he loses points.
Sonic intrigue - 7/10
Every album has one, and this is it. The Basic Song. So widely palatable that it’s...boring. Shoot me, I know.
Crafting - 8/10
Overall: 28/40 = 7/10
To Be So Lonely:
Lyrics - 9/10
Currently, with just HS1 and Fine Line under his belt, THIS song is his lyrical Magnum Opus. It’s honest. It showcases an intriguing narrative. It’s clever. It’s fun. It’s a little sad. This is Harry and his amalgamation of musical influences mixed up in a bowl, poured into a pan, and baked into a perfect cake with frosting flowers.
General listen-ability - 8/10
This is another one of those songs that you can have on in the background and it fits into whatever you’re doing, or you put it on specifically to scream ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ back at him. It’s versatile.
Sonic intrigue - 10/10
The production on this song is clean but also a little rough around the edges, and I think it was done intentionally. You can hear the buzz of guitar and bass strings. There are peaks and troughs of volume. It has a sneaky little swinging beat that makes it impossible to not bop your head along with it. Again, it’s INTERESTING.
Crafting - 10/10
Overall: 37/40 = 9.3/10
She:
Lyrics - 8/10
I’m afraid to say anything negative about this song because I don’t want to be executed, but here goes. I think it offers a fun, interesting narrative on the first few listens. It’s a story; a little fantastical and sultry. But for me, it feels a bit like Woman 2.0
General listen-ability - 7/10
I have to be in the right mood to put it on specifically, so otherwise, it’s one that I won’t necessarily skip, but I prefer to have it on when I want to listen to slower music. Also kudos to Mitchell but the guitar wank at the end is just a little on the long side.
Sonic intrigue - 8/10
This is definitely a stylistic callback to the overall sound of HS1, and for that reason, I think it offers a nice bit of continuity.
Crafting - 8/10
Overall: 31/40 = 7.8/10
Sunflower Vol. 6:
Lyrics - 9/10
The story! The atmosphere! The pure, unbridled joy it offers! KISS IN THE KITCHEN LIKE IT’S A DANCEFLOOR!!!! I’m offended at how cute this song is. More men need to write songs like this.
General listen-ability - 9/10
This song instantly puts me in a happier mood. I don’t feel like a car ride is complete without listening to it at least once. It’s textural. I love it.
Sonic intrigue - 9/10
The backwards audio in the beginning. The weird bass. The vocal layering. The nonsense ad libs at the end!!!! FUN!!!!
Crafting - 10/10
Overall: 37/40 = 9.3/10
Canyon Moon:
Lyrics - 8/10
This song is deceptive — underneath the cheery, more jovial sound, it actually has some more echo-y melancholy notes — the ‘So hard to leave it / that’s what I always do’ and ‘I’m going home’s. It’s about reminiscing but still moving forward. Reflecting!!
General listen-ability - 9/10
Could easily fit in on a romcom soundtrack, and I mean that in the best way.
Sonic intrigue - 7/10
If I didn’t know that he specifically sought out Joni Mitchell’s dulcimers for this, it would feel just like any other upbeat guitar song, but I DO know his process behind it, so his score gets bumped a bit.
Crafting - 9/10
Overall: 33/40 = 8.3/10
Treat People With Kindness:
Lyrics - 7/10
Ohhh Harry Styles. He just wants people to be nice to each other! And maybe be a utopian society cult leader. It’s okay. We love him anyway. This song is full of idealisms; perhaps it’s a toe-dip into social commentary. Perhaps it’s a reflection of his own life, on dealing with friendships and loss and the overall nature of being a person. Who knows! It’s a batshit extravaganza in the best way.
General listen-ability - 8/10
If you can listen to this song without wanting to dance...you have a problem.
Sonic intrigue - 9/10
This song is all over the place but in a very thoughtful, cohesive way. It would not be the same if he sang the chorus; half of what makes it so charming is that he doesn’t, and instead, he sounds like some sort of unhinged ring-leader at the end, demanding ‘one more time’ and screaming. UNHINGED BUT MAKE IT JOYFUL.
Crafting - 9/10
Overall: 33/40 = 8.3/10
Fine Line:
Lyrics - 9/10
This song doesn’t have many lines, but the ones that do exist, are all purposeful and pack an incredible punch. It would be a disservice to him to try and pick a ‘best’ one, but ‘Put a price on emotion / I’m looking for something to buy’ and ‘my hand’s at risk / I’ll fold’ are up there as two of my favorite things he’s ever written. The repetitiveness of ‘we’ll be a fine line’ can be a little grating, but I find that to be entirely dependent on my mood, and not any fault of his own.
General listen-ability - 8/10
I put this on when I want to disassociate. Not ideal for when I’m driving down the highway, but what can you do.
Sonic intrigue - 10/10
One of the most, if not THE most, beautiful pieces of music he’s ever put out. Nothing more or less can be said.
Crafting - 10/10
Overall: 37/40 = 9.3/10
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Imagine that you were put in charge of a modern, high-budget, well-written Animorphs TV series. What changes to the plot/characters/world would you make while adapting it? (Books that you'd skip, arcs that you'd rearrange, things you would add or outright alter...)
[Important caveat: I have ZERO experience in set design, directing, editing, camerawork, or any other processes involved in TV production, unless we’re going to be super generous and count the bit of scriptwriting and stage-acting I did in high school. Ergo, these ideas might make no sense in practice.]
Animate it. I would much much prefer to see an anime-style show to a live-action one for a handful of different reasons:
Battle scenes, morph sequences, and alien appearances wouldn’t be constrained by budget realities. Although we’ve come a long way from AniTV’s practical effects, in 2019 Runaways still minimizes Old Lace (the sentient dinosaur) and struggles with her somewhat less-than-convincing appearance while she’s onscreen. I’d like to see real-looking battles between exotic animals and highly unusual aliens. I’d like to see Ax portrayed as a deer-scorpion-centaur with no mouth who also has complex facial expressions. I’d like taxxons and hork-bajir that match their descriptions in the books. CGI for a moderate-budget TV show can’t do that yet.
The characters’ appearances could match their descriptions in the books. I don’t really care about AniTV’s Jake having blue eyes or Marco having short hair. I do care about the fact that Cassie is described as short, chubby, dark-skinned, natural-haired, and androgynous in self-presentation… whereas AniTV’s Nadia-Leigh Nascimento is (through no fault of her own and 100% the fault of Nickelodeon) none of those things. I’d like to see all of the characters drawn in a way that matches their canon racial heritage, and voiced with actors of those ethnicities as well. For bullshit marketing reasons of bullshit, that’s not as likely to happen in a live-action show.
I’d want the show to convey the frequent mismatches between characters’ physicality and their personalities. It’s an important motif of the books. It’s part of the reason that Tobias has been claimed by the trans* community. It’s a major plot point, lest new viewers think that the vice principal of the school is actually trying to kill his own students. It doesn’t come off in AniTV, for all that I commend them for even trying (casting Shawn Ashmore’s twin as controller-Jake, portraying Chapman as straight out of Stepford), just because the nature of controller-ness and nothlitization are difficult to convey literally. Animation has a lot of tricks, from deliberately distorted drawings to screensaver-like “mental space,” that can actually convey concepts like mind control or body dysmorphia pretty well — Alphonse in Fullmetal Alchemist and Aang in Avatar the Last Airbender great examples of body-mind mismatch and multiple consciousnesses in one body, respectively.
Use a cold open for every episode. I am a sucker for Batman cold opens or any other opening scenes that pick up in the middle of the characters’ everyday lives, because they work so well to convey that there is a crapton of life happening outside of the plot of any given episode. Several Animorphs books (#9, #14, #35, #41, #51) open this way, to great effect, and I love the way that it gives us slices of life we might not otherwise see (morphing to cheat on science homework, completing entire offscreen missions, having dinner with the family) and help build these characters’ worlds outside of individual episode plots.
Introduce James sooner (and have better disability narratives). There are several aspects of Animorphs’ social justice consciousness that age okay (Rachel shutting down Marco’s constant flirting) or not well at all (Mertil and Galfinian). One important way the series could update Animorphs is through having canon disabled characters like James, Mertil, and Loren have bigger roles and not resorting to kill-or-cure narratives. Maybe James could come in sooner and form a Teen Titans West-esque team with the other Auximorphs so that he and Collette and the others could be recurring supporting characters with unique plotlines. Maybe Loren could still gain morphing power, but remain blind and brain-damaged so that the hork-bajir need to work with her to figure out accommodations while sleeping rough.
Modify Jake’s and Cassie’s parents to account for the contemporary setting. The fact that the kids so often disappear all afternoon or even overnight without anyone worrying just wouldn’t translate to a contemporary reimagining of Animorphs. Tobias and Ax are each other’s only family on the planet whereas Marco’s dad and Rachel’s mom are both overworked single parents. Jake’s family, however, and Cassie’s…
Cassie’s parents are so freaking cool in canon that they would definitely start to worry if Cassie went for an entire “weekend at Rachel’s” without answering any texts or calls. Maybe there could be some scenes with them talking about how they have this super-mature responsible daughter whom they can trust not to get into trouble even if she does hate cell phones, but oh well because they’re not big on technology either.
Jake’s parents are… less cool, but they still try their best. The show might explain their lack of concern about either of their disappearing kids through upping the hippie factor from his mom, maybe until she practices Free-Range Parenting. (Why yes, it is true that Jake’s family would have the necessary privileges to get away with free-range crap while Cassie’s family would not, because yes it is the case that black families have been arrested for leaving kids alone for 10 minutes while white families are allowed more passes under the law. Yes, that is a steaming pile of racist bullshit.) The other way it could go is by having Jake’s parents completely checked out, which could get in the way of plots like #31 that hinge on them genuinely caring about their kids, but could also introduce an interesting dynamic if it partially parentifies Tom.
Include at least one Rashomon plot. The TV series would by necessity lose the first-person narration, with all its brilliantly subtle shades of bias and misinterpretation. One way to try and bring that back in would be to convey the same events from multiple points of view with subtle differences in the way that each person perceives what happened. This could happen somewhere in the Visser One plot, with Rachel interpreting the scene as a straight Animorphs-vs-yeerks battle, while Visser One interprets it as Visser Three incompetently sabotaging her as Animorphs ruin her life, while Marco interprets it as a struggle to protect his mom and also save his friends, while Visser Three interprets it as the andalite bandits flagrantly plotting with Visser One, while Jake interprets it as Marco going off the rails from stress… and the only witness who has a sense of what actually happened is Eva. Other possibilities abound.
Start with a plan to make one episode per book… and modify as necessary. There are areas of the series I’d like to see expanded (#50 - #54 covers a lot of ground in relatively little space) and areas that I think could afford to be compacted (#39 - #44 feature a whole lotta nothin’). But instead of adding or discarding an entire book, I think you could spread out many of the plots by simple virtue of TV shows not being constrained by first-person narration.
Certain books just wouldn’t get straight-translated today anyway (#40, most notably). I don’t think any books are so bad or useless that they couldn’t be modified into decent television episodes.
The ramping-up that leads to open war happens mostly in the background of #44 - #51, but a bunch of scenes with just controllers talking to each other could go into that process in a lot more detail. This content could help fill out plots like #44 and #48 that frankly don’t have a lot else going on.
The entire plot of Visser happens over a nonspecific period of time between #30 and #45, so instead of getting one book we could get an entire running Yeerk Empire subplot with major consequences for the main plotline.
Similarly, the andalites’ decisions happen mostly offscreen but have major consequences for the Animorphs. The consequences for the Electorate after the events of #38 could also run for a whole subplot that sets up their decision to nuke Earth in #52.
The biggest absence from the last couple books is Rachel. Her last book is a friggin’ dream sequence, she acts out of character in #52 especially, and the narration order cuts off directly before giving her one last book. It wouldn’t be necessary to add an entire episode just to rectify this oversight, when #51 could still be Marco-centric but also show her and Jake on their sabotage mission, and #52 could have the same rough plot but with a few scenes between her and Tobias thrown in for good measure.
Anyway, maybe the various Chronicles could be a handful of Doctor-lite episodes where the Animorphs themselves are incidental and Elfangor or Aldrea has the helm. Maybe the events of the Chronicles could come out organically over the course of the show, for instance by expanding the memory-dumps Tobias gets in #1 and #33 or having Jara tell Dak’s story in #13 or #23. The Megamorphses, on the other hand, could pretty easily just occur as regular-series episodes, albeit possibly as two- or three-parters.
Lean into the comic-book aesthetic. Animorphs is written very much in the style of a graphic novel, from its “teens with superpowers save the world from aliens” plot to its heavy use of onomatopoeia. Even the use of hypertext symbols around thought-speak hearkens back to the comic book convention of using pointed brackets around alien languages to convey translation. The show could homage this motif through having dramatic transformation sequences, “uniforms” of multicolored spandex the kids use to morph, an opening credits sequence that emphasizes the power of each animal, and other superhero-comic elements throughout.
Have the violence be consequential. To keep the examples from earlier: in Fullmetal Alchemist, as well as in Avatar, characters that get hurt stay hurt. A character getting shot or stabbed is portrayed as a potentially life-changing event. Characters’ injuries do not disappear between episodes, and even alchemy and waterbending are not portrayed as total fixes. Characters scar, they become disabled, they spend entire episodes in recovery, they accrue trauma, and they do not shrug off life-ending injuries. Animorphs helps to justify the idea that six kids could (mostly) survive (most of) an entire war against a friggin empire through making the protagonists nigh-unkillable thanks to their healing abilities, but it nevertheless shows that shooting someone will result in that person bleeding and screaming and possibly dying. Having a sci-fi or action show meant for children isn’t actually a valid excuse for portraying violence as cool or funny or inconsequential the way that (Avengers Assemble, Teen Titans, Kim Possible, Dragonball Z, Pokemon, etc.) too many children’s sci-fi/action shows opt to do.
#animorphs#anitv#racism mention#long post#asks#anonymous#animorphs meta#ableism mention#teen titans#avatar the last airbender#fullmetal alchemist#Anonymous
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Aase Camoa
1. Look at her quizzically. You have just started a fight with her.
2. She scoffs at the idea. Soulmates? As if anyone's soul is good enough to permanantly latch to hers. Her sister is her soul mate she doesn't need another.
3. Not paying attention to her, boring her, making her do menial tasks, when someone leaves a tiny bit of food of drink left in a shared container and it is hardly enough for a bite or sip like what kind of heathen?
4. The forest they left permanently was not their first home. They had re established a village in a new forest once the empire decimated their home. She misses her first home. Rainy warm nights laying inside and listening to the rain while Zelda read to her and their brother.
5. She enjoyed many aspects of her childhood. Life was more rough than she cared for but she loved her siblings and her mom most of the time. She also loved when puberty hit. She did not have an awkward stage.
6. When her brother got taken due to archaic and backwards rituals enforced by the elder matriarch of their clan.
7. Lol if she leaves a tavern having had to buy herself a drink she is probably in a very shitty mood. She would only do that if it was for a job and the scions were providing the money adn even then she'd still try to flirt her way out of paying.
8. Hell no. She definitely isn't graceful. That's why she chose warrior as a profession. But she's got a knack for landing and avoiding hits/dodging. It's partially due to her echo.
9. Come HW yes. Lol Mostly her embarrassing infatuation with Ishgard’s highest jumping jester. Other than that, maybe the look on her True Mother’s face when she told her she would be leaving the woods.
10. Spending time in the trees with Zelda. The birth of their brother.
11. “I thrive on dysfunction.” She likes people that are either totally wrong for her or challenge her in some way that she feels inclined to beat down. Also they usually have to be slightly less attractive than her but not so ugly that she can’t not be seen with them in public.
12. Does her hair count? She literally left everything she owned except the clothes on her back when she and Zelda left their colony.
13. She would NEVER mar her perfect skin are you out of ur mind?
14. She does have some ear piercings and a septum piercing that I maybe draw one day.
15. To be honest, a treehouse. Somewhere in the woods. She felt suffocated by her colony but she honestly misses the canopy of trees almost every day. lol and if not that a palace with lots of land that she can have a garden and plenty of plant life in.
16. She’s clever. She hides it behind her vanity but she is almost always in the loop and aware of her surroundings and what people are saying.
17. Gifts? For others? Lol. For Zelda she would put care, for everyone else good luck.
18. She is proud of anything she does so it’s hard to narrow down.
19. Vain but with the beauty to back it up. Loud and confident.
20. Vain. Funny. Loud. Zelda would probably describe her as thoughtful and protective, a little sad with a pure heart. Aase would hate all those descriptions.
21. No.
22. I guess it would have to be defense. She IS very protective. She would never admit it to anyone other than Zelda but she’d go hard trying to protect anyone she begrudgingly cares about. Non-physical would be equal parts perception and charisma. Maybe even more perception. She be knowing.
23. Lol Aase herself is a liar. Depending on the lie, she would laugh it off or it would end the relationship right there. She hates lies that are perceived as for “her benefit” bc she thinks she can handle anything so there is no point.
24. She likes mild weather. Warm with a cool breeze. Cool but slightly humid. She hates extreme weather. High heat or cold? Fuck off.
25. She has said she loves Zelda and her brother and never admitted it to anyone else even in the colony. She has never been in love she thinks and never will bc she is too good for everyone. She does enjoy other people telling her they love her tho.
26. What worries? You have to care to have worries. She shares EVERYTHING with Zelda though. And eventually a certain idiot who worms his way into her heart despite all odds and objections.
27. Yes. She’s killed. She doesn’t care for it but also sees it as necessary sometimes. She will not handle HF’s death well bc that will be the first time she loses anyone she cares about.
28. Do not fucking touch her ears. Also her butt but lol she does let some people touch that.
29. High, and if she’s in pain you will not hear her admitting it. She will have to pass out before she lets u know she’s hurt.
30. No she pretty much does anything she wants all the time and it’s a constant source of stress and amusement for others.
31. She eats pretty daintily.
32. Their clan elder/leader “First Mother” often said she was good for nothing but trouble and would never amount to anything. She made Aase feel unloved quite a bit growing up until Aase finally just stopped caring.
33. Zelda, following her when she left the Colony.
34. Vision. To never see herself in the mirror again? Tragic.
35. She’s great at talking about herself/bullshitting but she will rarely feel inclined to small talk for the sake of social norms.
36. She would ask her mother where they sent their brother off to. She would ask First Mother if she ever loved her...no she wouldn’t. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.
37. Lol Viera have long lives she doesn’t need to travel into the future she will just live it. If she could travel to the past she would go back to the night her broher was taken and stop it.
38. Zelda has had the biggest impact on her life. Regardless of positive or negative there would be no Aase if there was no Zelda.
39. Aase will always need people around to tell her how beautiful she is. Living alone doesn’t nearly give you as much gratification.
40. Meeting Hraesvelgr really scared her. It was more of an awe type fear, a fearful respect. To meet something so ancient. Old shit scares her she doesn’t want to be old.
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Some Mother’s Day Musings
Ok, so this post is going to hit a few different angles, as it relates to motherhood. I’ll mention a little bit about my mom, but I’m also going to throw a couple other philosophical ideas in here too the most people might not think about when it comes to Mother’s Day.
I’m totally not going to mention anything about “Rebecca” in this post, nothing really positive or negative, even though yes technically I mean she is the mother of my son... she has a new husband to celebrate her in that regard and that’s fine. I still love my son “Aaron” and... “Rebecca” has still taught him some good things despite all of the conflict you’ve already heard about in my previous content, and I believe that my son will still learn some great things from her in the future.
Ok so moving on from that, I want to first say thanks to my mom for all of the crazy things she put up with as I was growing up and even during much of my 20′s, since I still had to be around her a lot for work even when I wasn’t living with her anymore.
Even though my mom and I have certainly had our rough patches, my relationship with her is WAY better than my relationship with my dad. With my Autistic brother requiring most of her attention growing up, and my dad not around or doing stuff with me that often, I spent most of my childhood alone. I mean yeah, my mom fed me and took care of my basic needs, but I spent most of my day playing or researching stuff on my own, or day dreaming... lots of day dreaming and philosophizing, even as a little kid.
You see, my mom feels kind of bad that she couldn’t spend more time with me as a kid, and while I understand it, it shaped me in a way that has helped me a great deal in my life as an adult. All of that time spent alone helped me become the intrepid researcher, scientist and philosopher that I am today. Because of that upbringing, I don’t mind being alone most of the time, and aside from my current desire for a wife (a good one this time around), I don’t have much NEED for friends, though I don’t mind socializing with others as long as they aren’t @$$holes and the socialization isn’t impeding on some big important project that I want to get done for my business or personal development.
So thanks mom, for loving me and supporting me through all of the awkward stages of my teens and early twenties as I figured out what I wanted to do and become in life. {*I’m writing this in her honor, but I sure as heck would never let her read this, or my blog as a whole that is at least, because I DEFINITELY don’t want her seeing some of the other things I’ve written about... they’re just not things that parent’s and their children want to hear or know about each other.*}
Ok so now, I’m going to get into something a little bit more abstract, regarding the mothering instinct and heart.
This is going to get a little spiritual here.
In Christianity, God is referred to as Heavenly Father, and if you believe the Bible is true, then you know that God Himself spoke that to people, told them that He was a He... however, God made human kind in God’s likeness... both the male and the female. So, in reality, while God may assume the form of a man/father, God also contains the feminine nature and mother-heart. God has an equal amount of masculine and feminine qualities inside of Him, in His heart and soul and mind.
Interestingly enough, though I’ve often times considered what I’m about to say next as a curse, I noticed something interesting about myself when I thought about this concept of God’s dual masculinity and femininity. So... I am a man who has a good amount of masculine nature inwardly and outwardly, but I also have... maybe a little bit more of a feminine nature within my heart than most men do. I’m not effeminate, as like a gay man would be, but I think I have an interesting blend of masculine and feminine traits that makes me much more like God and Jesus than I once thought.
You see, Astrologically speaking, I am an Aries/Pisces cusp... I’m a mix of the two signs based upon when I was born. Aries is the MOST Alpha (Type A) of all the signs, and Pisces is the MOST Beta (or Type B) of all the signs. Aries is the most Masculine in terms of personality and behavior, and Pisces is the most Feminine in terms of personality and behavior. I would say that if I had to really break it down, I’m 65% masculine and 35% feminine overall, in regards to my personality, world view and lifestyle.
When it comes to tackling tasks that need to get done, or trying to fix some urgent problem that could wreak havoc on me or my family if it isn’t resolved soon, I’m 100% Aries mode, I’m like a bulldozer with nitrous tanks and a turbo! I’m attacking that problem with everything I’ve got and people better stay the heck out of my way and not hinder me unnecessarily.
When it comes to socialization, I either have nothing to say or I’m almost too chatty. I never know which one is going to come out of me when I’m in a given situation. I guess I’m more feminine when it comes to having conversations with people.
When it comes to romance, I start off VERY Pisces-like (feminine), very slow and gentle and wanting to rub, cuddle, nuzzle and slow kisses, etc. Then, once that has started, I start turning more and more Aries-like again (masculine), increasing in intensity regarding the forcefulness of my touching, kissing, and expressing my burning flame through my voice and words. This is where I need a girlfriend/fiancé/wife who’s OK with being told blatantly X-Rated things that I want to do to her OR for her, once we’ve reached the point in our relationship where we’ve had the talk and know each other’s “Yes and No” list. If she can’t handle and enjoy dirty talk during the right times, she’s not the one for me. I need a woman who will let me fully express my sexual energy to her through words, and who will do the same to me.
Once it gets to sex (which is only within marriage according to the principles I practice), I will naturally repeat the cycle of Pisces-like first, and Aries-like a few minutes in, and I’ll alternate back and forth throughout the time together unless she asks specifically for one or the other primarily. It really though, boils down to “Vanilla” days and “Not-Very-Vanilla” days, regarding my desires and expressions of them within a marriage.
When it comes to managing a house hold, parenting, finances, etc, I’m very masculine. While I care about people’s feelings, they don’t come before the structure, cleanliness and integrity of our house, car, bank account, etc. I will NOT let my kid make huge messes, or I will ONLY let him make messes in designated places. I don’t mind saying NO to something that my kid would find fun if it can’t be done without damaging something in my house/car or wracking up a bunch of debt for something that’s not a necessity.
Finally, when it comes to movies, TV shows and books, I kind of rapidly cycle between Masculine and Feminine. Basically, anything in a story, show or movie that typically makes most women cry, it will make me cry too. I can’t help it. I really can't! Sometimes I’ve even gotten more teary eyed and emotional over something than my mom or one of my exes did. While that might be kind of embarrassing in one way, it shows what a genuinely caring and empathetic person I am. If I see something on TV about a little girl in a hospital bed and they bring in a therapy dog for her to pet and she get’s all excited and emotional about it, I’ll usually get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.
Same thing applies to tragic stuff in movies and shows. When there’s a 100 car pile up in the middle of a blizzard and people are trapped and freezing and rescuers have to go around and help people... that makes me tear up. When someones’ loved one is dying in a hospital bed... it makes me cry. I REALLY took it hard when I read 50 Shades of Grey and got to the end of the first book in the series and Christian Grey whipped Anastasia with a belt really hard over and over and she got so upset and cried and ran away and said to the effect of “WTF is wrong with you?! How can you enjoy doing something like this to a woman?!” I know that in the next story, Christian eventually learned his lesson and felt sorry and changed and became a better person, but my goodness... I understand LIGHT bondage/“Soft-Dom” and I’ve kinda grown into my interest in that (both to give and receive it in my next marriage if she’s willing), but I just can’t understand people who get pleasure out of INTENTIONALLY trying to inflict pain on other people. I guess I thought about it from the perspective of what I would or would never do to a woman who I loved. Arguments and hurt feelings are inevitable but physical harm... I could NEVER do.
What’s so interesting about my Masculine/Feminine balance is, if you read the descriptions for Aries signs and Pisces signs, I’m like a 95% accurate match to BOTH of them, even though they are pretty opposing. This strange combination probably played a large part in what made me into a “Sigma Male”.
You’ve heard of “Alpha Males” and “Beta Males”, “Alpha Females” and “Beta Females”, but a SIGMA is one who has a unique balance of both Alpha and Beta characteristics, but this doesn’t make them “average”... it makes them incredibly special and unique. Most people are only either Alpha OR Beta (though there are some other types that are less common, like Omegas who just sit around all day goofing off and have no ambition or drive for anything except video games, internet and junk food.)
But anyway, SIGMA men and women are like lone wolves, they have some big grand mission in life that they want to accomplish, and they care little for the rules of Social Hierarchy. They can be friends with pretty much any clique but are rarely close to anyone except a romantic partner. They find socialization a waste of time many times, and prefer to spend most of their time doing something productive or pleasurable. Sigmas are the Christian Grey’s of the real world, in the sense that they prefer to be rich, mostly isolated people who are ABLE to socialize and be a people person but like to do so only when it fits their schedule. Minus the abuse part, I saw A LOT of similarities between Christian Grey and myself when it comes to how I would structure and manage my life if I had a lot of money. I’d be just like him, just with Christian moral values and no sadomasochism. If you look at all the other personality traits and world views, etc that he has, it’s probably 75-80% similarity to my thoughts and feelings and interests and world views.
While I couldn’t find any lists of famous people who are Sigmas, I did find some links to webpages that explain Sigma’s in more detail. Even if it says it applies to Males, the characteristics pretty well cross over to women too, and I know because I used to date a Sigma girl, and she was the best girlfriend I ever had, even though we eventually broke up.
Here are the links:
https://herway.net/life/11-traits-define-sigma-male/
https://hackspirit.com/sigma-male-11-things-they-do-and-how-you-can-become-one-too/
https://www.zoosk.com/date-mix/dating-advice/sigma-male/
https://www.aconsciousrethink.com/9304/sigma-males/
SO... in closing...
What does all this Sigma stuff have to do with Mother’s Day and mothering nature? Well... I believe that Sigma men (straight ones that is) have a particularly high amount of “mothering instinct” without being effeminate or seeming devoid of masculinity. I believe that Sigma men and women both exhibit the most “God-like” or “Christ-like” nature just how they naturally are. I believe that it’s probably fair to say that GOD is probably a Sigma... if He had to be classified as having one specific personality type. God is the epitome of Masculinity AND Femininity (in all of their good ways), and I think that Sigma men and women are also like that... the best balance of Masculine and Feminine in one being.
Come to think of it, my mom seems an awful lot like a Sigma to me, now that I think about it... and while my dad is a little bit more “Beta”, he also has a good bit of “Alpha” traits too, so when I consider what both my mom and dad are like, maybe that’s where I got my Sigma traits from... but more so from my mom... I’m sure.
My dad for the most part taught me what I did NOT want to do or be like, and my mom for the most part taught me what I DID want to be like. Come to think of it, now looking back I think that my mom’s dad (who recently passed) seemed a lot like a Sigma male too. Maybe that’s where my mom got her’s from. My grandpa on my mom’s side taught her how to be a good hearted person and how to not take advantage of people or be greedy. He taught her how to be financially responsible and care for those in need who can’t help themselves. While some of my mom’s siblings may have not adopted all of those good life lessons and characteristics, thank God that my mom did.
While I may not have much good to say about my Dad or most of the people on his side of the family, I am sure thankful to have had all of the good lessons, teachings, foundation and love that came from my mom’s side of the family, which my mom passed on to me and lavished upon me, even when nobody else had my back.
:) <3
Until next time, take care and God Bless!
“Luke Davidson” - Author of The Taboo Christian book and blog
#mother's day#mother#feminine#masculine#femininity#masculinity#family#love#sigma#beta#alpha#aries#pisces#personality type#God#Jesus Christ
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For the writer's ask game, All Odd numbers 😁 no need to answer all if too many. Just wanna hear ur ideas on somee 😁imiss your fanficssss
omg idk if i love you or hating for asking so many questions in one goXD Aww i’m still writing, just veeery slowly... and i’ve had a few very rough weeks (mostly bc of work) so i haven’t had much energy or motivation at all - trying to get back into it so i can write the whole weekend!
1. Do you listen to music when you write?
Sometimes. It depends! Sometimes it helps get into the mood or avoid distraction, but sometimes the music makes me think of other plot ideas which is highly distracting *sweats* Lately, i’ve listened a lot to imagine dragons while writing!
3. Computer or pen and paper?
computer. i have some notebooks with old stuff written down, barely readable. why did i write plotlines in pink?? can’t read it at all lol
5. How much writing do you get done on an average day?
haha.. on average it’s like, nothing. but if i actually have time to write that day, it can be anything from 200 words to 4,000. usually i don’t get to more than 4K in one day for some reason (unless i switch fics to write on lol). maybe 1,000 words is a fairly accurate average!
7. Standalone or series?
usually standalones. i’ve only written one sequel in my life and it’s not even finished (Missing pieces)
9. Current WIP
The sun within me, Lessons in love, For You My Sun, Sugar Star are the ones waiting for new chapters. i’ve got a couple unpublished/unfinished WIPs in my folder... we’ll see if i manage to finish them at some point but i don’t really dare to describe them in case someone would actually want to read them
11. Books and/or authors who influenced you the most
hmm tough question. i grew up reading authors like David Eddings, Eoin Colfer, Tamora Pierce, i went down and checked my bookcase and those three are actually the ones still on display haha. of course i read books like harry potter and narnia etc. too. lots of fantasy basically - and lots and lots of horse books, but i don’t think you can tell in my writing lol. Ender’s game by Orson Scott Card is a favorite, as well as the hobbit and The name of the wind by Patrick Rothfuss. when i studied Finnish in university i had to branch out and read books i would never choose myself, and that really influenced me to broaden my perspective so to say. last book i read was probably Wayward son by Rainbow Rowell (i’m a sucker for sad gay vampires apparently). i also read a ton of murder mysteries like agatha christie when i was younger.
plus, all the manga i read - dragon ball and naruto and love hina and yaoi and god knows what
13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished
oh dear. i usually get an idea that goes sth like “wouldn’t it be hilarious if...” and then it spirals out of control. like, my first long fanfic, Results of a shitty day, was literally me saying “you know what? i want to write a long drama fic like all those other cool authors do” and there was no plan besides at all at first.
i tend to just write a first chapter and then have a general idea of what i want to explore - a certain character growing a certain way, or a certain trope, or just the one scene that won’t go away. For The sun within me, it was literally “hey what if i wrote naruto and sasuke in the road to ninja universe” and for Lessons in love it was “man i really want a fic where Yurio is Viktor’s son and they’re fanboys of Yuuri’s skating”, and me rambling to a friend in the car about it until i was forced to sit down and write it. i definitely make up the plot as i go. every time i decide the plot in advance i end up changing it anyway (yes, this happens even for oneshots sometimes). i love planning though - so much that i constantly re-plan the stories and plan the chapter while writing it too.
15. How do you deal with writer’s block?
badly. i’m a procrastinator. usually i switch between stories, if that doesn’t work, i try to write sth new, usually that doesn’t work and i end up reading fics until i’m convinced i can never write as well as other people can. and then i just have to take a break until my brain goes ping! and i can write again.
17. What writing habits or rituals do you have?
i think the only habit i have is getting easily distracted. *cough*
19. How do you keep yourself motivated?
i’m constantly writing in my head - daydreaming if you want to call it that. typing is very difficult, but i’m usually motivated by the fact that there’s nothing better than to sit down after a long day and just enjoy a really good fic about your OTP, and since people enjoy my writing i can’t just quit and rob them of this. i can’t just enjoy fandom without paying back when i actually have the possibility to do so. it usually works!! also, when i type, the story takes shape in a way it doesn’t in my head, which is actually really cool so i read my own stuff now and then just to remind me of this.
21. Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?
Sasuke
23. Favourite author
hmm i don’t have just one. or do they mean fanfic author? well i wouldn’t be able to choose either way!
25. Favourite part of writing
when i manage to type a scene the way i pictured it in my head. and when i just write without a plan and things start to make sense!
27. Favourite line/scene
actually, every single scene in The sun within me is my favorite lol
29. Favourite villain
does Sasuke count? no? i’ll say Baz in the Carry On series
31. Least favourite part of writing
the first sentence of a fic or chapter. getting started is the hardest!!
33. Have you ever killed a main character?
i wrote a drabble with naruto and sasuke in the afterlife once. i don’t think i’ve actually killed anyone???
35. What scene/story are you least looking forward to writing?
the next chapter for Lessons in love is giving me a lot of trouble currently :(
37. First sentence or your current WIP
This is the first sentence of chapter 16, Lessons in love: Their last full day in Hasetsu passes in a blur.
And this is the first sentence if a yoi smut fic i’ll post when i finally finish ch 16 for LiL: The metro is always crowded at this time, and Yuuri hates it.
Don’t tell anyone i’m working on yet another smut fic for yoi.
Aaaand this is the first sentence of a sasnar fic i’m writing on when i’m too tired to actually write anything seriously: Sasuke was surprised to find that he was not the only one to be summoned to the Hokage’s office.
I know it was an earlier question, but i actually have something like 17 WIPs in my WIP folder that are not posted in any part yet, of which most will probably never see the light of day.
39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had
hmm i don’t know
41. Any advice for new/beginning/young writers?
i have much advice. but i don’t think any of it is very original. the most important thing - there’s no such thing as failure when you’re writing fanfic. write what you want and when you want, the only way to get better is to keep writing! i just re-read an old story to see if it was worth editing and copying over onto ao3, and realized i had used the word “pinkette” to describe sakura. we all start somewhere... and if you ever look back on old fics, focus on how much you enjoyed writing the fic, not if it’s good or not!!
43. What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?
if they don’t, it’s generally because they’re right and i’m not. forcing them back into the outline only makes for awkward writing. i always go along with it to see where it goes - sometimes it ends up somewhere much better than planned, sometimes you realize you’ve made mistakes way back in the fic and now you’re stuck with the choice of changing the plot or going back to rewrite.
45. How much world building do you do?
i actually hate world building. and describing things like scenery and places and clothes. i’ve had to really force myself to work on it. but i also make sure that i only give the absolute necessary information and then slip in the rest in bits and pieces where it fits. but since i mostly write in already set worlds, it’s usually not that necessary.
47. Best way to procrastinate
look at fics and put them in my marked for later and then procrastinate reading them by working on WIPs that are not my published WIPs and then procrastinate those WIPs by finding new fics to read and then maybe re-read my own fics. oh, and scrolling through social media
(i don’t actually have a lot of time to procrastinate bc it’s usually work-take care of horse-shower and dinner-sleep)
49. Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?
Phichit. so much fun!!!
Wow, that was a lot of questions and a lot of fun!! Sorry for the super long post you have to scroll by lol
Thank you for asking!!!
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I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 27
Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.
Word Count: 3.1k (this chapter)
Warnings: Occasional swearing and sexual mentions
Rating: Explicit
Updates will be every Sunday around 1pm EST
**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3 | WATTPAD**
Phil misses work the next few days and he doesn’t bother to tell anyone else why. Martyn tries to come and visit him but when Martyn rings his doorbell, Phil pretends he isn’t home and just lays on the couch. Spike whimpers a bit and tries to scratch at the door but because Martyn doesn’t have his key anymore to the flat, he can’t come in.
Martyn texts him later that day and asks him where he went and Phil just said he needed to go for a breather. It was all he’s said to anyone since his last Skype call with Dan.
He was hurt, deeply so. His heart felt shattered and his brain like mush. He wasn’t even sure if he could move past any of this. In the four short months that he’s grown to know who Dan was, nothing has felt like this.
He’s been through break ups. He’s been through bad relationships. But no break up has hurt as bad as Dan telling him that he thinks they should take a break. What happened to Dan promising him that they wouldn’t give up on each other and he made the promise back? Did the promise fall on deaf ears? Did Dan not really mean anything that he said?
Phil doesn’t want to believe that’s the case.
Per Dan’s request, he hasn’t tried to get ahold of him. He also took the initiative to delete his social media apps off from his phone so that why he wouldn’t be tempted to check Dan’s Twitter or Instagram and see how he’s doing. The news has been quiet lately, not mentioning Dan’s name. And Phil guesses that he’s grateful for that. But in a selfish way, he wishes that some entertainment news site would talk about Dan so he could know what Dan was doing.
It’s four days later when Phil decides that he needs to actually do something. He needs to get off his arse and actually start living again. He’s sat in his flat, wallowing in his own misery and barely showering. Even Spike has begun to find it a bit weird that Phil hasn’t taken him for a proper walk to the park. He can tell by Spike’s anxious prancing around the flat.
He showers That’s morning, dresses in a pair of his black jeans and his black shirt with the word vibes on it to add a bit of color to his dark mind. He puts in contacts instead of wearing his glasses and he styles his hair. Already, just by doing that, he feels a bit better.
But instead of going out, he sets up behind a camera and puts some lights on him and he just sits down and takes a breath. He needs to do this. Even if he never posts the video, he needs to just let everything go.
And he’s going to.
“Hey everyone.” He begins, voice wavering a bit. “Today, I’m making a video not as amazingphil but as Phil Lester. There is a lot I need to get off from my chest because of recent events and this is me doing so. In January of this year, I met Daniel Howell on the set of the new film he was working on. As some of you know, I work for the BBC as a graphic designer and I often am working in the offices doing advertising and posters and websites. But enough of that. I met Dan when I was told I was going to be an extra on the set of the film. I thought it was stupid. I was and at the BBC for bringing me in on what would be my day off to film as some extra in some big pretentious movie stars film. But that actually wasn’t it at all. I met Dan on the set and my life completely changed.”
Phil took a breath and then let it out slowly as he tried to find his composure again.
“Dan and I exchanged numbers and he asked me to do a favor for him by showing him around London. I thought really nothing of it. He was asking as if he was a friend and I’m not someone to turn down a friends request. So I went around with him in London then the paparazzi flooded us at the eye and that was when everyone saw us for the first time. At that time in our lives, we were just budding friends. We were nothing more.”
Phil looked up his ceiling in an attempt to ground himself. He couldn’t believe he was telling all of this right now to a camera but it also felt so good to just spew all of this out when he’s had to hide it for so long.
“Dan and I kept in contact and when he came to London a short time later, he stayed at my flat with me and I think that was when I realized he was someone I wanted to spend more time with and get to know better. So we agreed for me to come to Los Angeles to spend a week with him and I did. And it was then during that time that we solidified our relationship.”
Phil felt his eyes prick a bit with tears as he took in a deep shuddering breath, promising to edit it out later if he ever does actually edit this video to be posted later. All he can think of is him in Dan in LA, kissing in Dan’s bed and then fucking just a short time later. Phil’s spins tingles as he thinks about what it was like to have sex with Dan for the first time and how amazing it had felt for him. How much love he had felt being poured from Dan.
“We told each other that we were together and we wanted to be together but then the paparazzi got in our way and we couldn’t do it anymore. Our relationship was going so well but then the fucking paparazzi came out and they followed us. They followed me around London where I once lived without worry. They followed Dan around Los Angeles when he isn’t comfortable with it. And they ruined us. The ruined us because they caught an intimate moment between us at my flat and completely breached our privacy. And I know people are probably going to be like “but Phil, you’re airing everything out into the open now” and my answer to that is that I’m doing it on my own terms. Dan and I wanted to come out on our own terms and it got ripped away from us by some selfish pricks we wanted it make quick money.”
Tears are rolling freely down Phil’s cheeks now. He reaches up and wipes them away as best he can but it looks like he just smeared them over his cheeks and not really wiped them away.
“Dan and I are taking a break now because of what the paparazzi did. Because we need to figure out how to move on with our relationship aired out because we were ready. And no one will understand the pain that I’m feeling right now to love someone so damn much and have him be ripped away from me because of people who have no care for other people’s privacy.”
A sob rips from his throat and he lurches forward as he buries his head into his hands and lets out all of the emotions that he has been feeling and bottling up these last few days. He’s angry. And he’s sad. And frankly, he kind of wants to be out for blood right now, yelling at people. But he’s trying to keep composure and it’s getting more and more difficult.
When his tears dry up a bit and he lets himself settle, he takes a few deep breaths and then speaks again.
“I don’t know if Dan will ever see this video. For all I know, this video could separate us further than we already are. But if he is, I wanted to speak to him directly and just say some things. Dan, I love you. I know I didn’t say it to you when you told me you loved me in Los Angels but I’m saying it now. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you. I know you probably didn’t want a video like this just airing everything out but please, please understand me. I want to be able to be with you, completely and unabashedly. I want to wake up next to you again and kiss you and, sorry for being vulgar, but I want to keep making love with you. I want to be with you....I love you.”
Phil stands up and pushes the button on the camera to stop it from recording as he lets out the rest of his sobs and wipes off his eyes with the backs of his hands. This was a stupid, stupid idea. But yet, he still found himself opening up his camera’s base and pulling out the SD card and bringing it to his laptop.
He exports the video onto his laptop and he doesn’t even edit it. He doesn’t do anything with. He goes right to YouTube and he uploads it and titles to “The Truth”. It’s 35 minutes long with everything form his crying to his raw emotions and he doesn’t care.
He presses public on the video and then takes a deep breath and shuts his laptop and picks up his phone. He calls PJ.
****
“Was everything you said in the video the truth?” PJ asks Phil as they sit on his couch and each have a glass of some strong liquor that PJ had brought. Phil thinks it’s whiskey which he doesn’t like but it does numb his mind a bit.
“Of course.” Phil says. “I wouldn’t lie.”
“So you and Dan are broken up?”
“Yes and no.” Phil says. “When Dan Skyped me the other night, he told me it wasn’t a break up and we were on a break but then he told me not to contact him and he wasn’t gong to contact me.”
“That’s rough.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Is that why you haven’t been to work?” PJ asks and Phil nods. “Louise told us you went on a personal leave.”
“I couldn’t go to work.” Phil says. “I couldn’t even get up the energy to shower or go and get food.”
“Louise was saying that she knew it was about what happened with Dan but she isn’t happy with having you miss work over it.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Phil says. “I’m quitting anyway.”
PJ’s eyes widen and he looks at Phil with a confused look. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m quitting the BBC.”
“Why?”
“Well,” Phil begins, resting back onto the couch. “I’ve been wanting to quit for a while and honestly, I kind of want to just like…stop working there and focus on something new. I could use something new in my life.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to focus more on my YouTube channel and if life goes that way, I’ll be traveling with Dan and supporting him.”
“But you haven’t talk to him since you uploaded the video right?” PJ asks. “How do you think he’s going to react to it?”
Phil shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. It burns a bit when it goes down and he winces. But within a few minutes, his mind will feel clouded again and he’ll be able to feel something more than just hollow.
“You should probably try and speak to him.”
“I don’t know if I can yet.” Phil says. “I don’t know if I can face him yet after I just aired all of our dirty laundry into the open.”
“But it’s not ‘dirty laundry’. It’s your real life that the tabloids were exploiting. The paparazzi deserved to be called out like you did.”
“That doesn’t make what I do as right.”
They sit in silence for a few moments, nothing more than just the sound of them breathing in the room and the sound of Spike gnawing on a bone in the corner of the flat.
Suddenly, Phil’s phone vibrates loudly on the couch and he jumps, reaching for it and picking it up. On the screen, it’s a picture of Dan saying ‘Dan would like to Facetime’. Phil swallows and puts his finger up to PJ to keep him quiet and he nods in acknowledgement.
He swipes the screen and answers and Dan is laying in his bed on the other side, his face red and puffy and his eyes very badly bloodshot.
“Why did you make that video?” Dan asks, his voice really hoarse and his words hanging between them like a tight string.
Phil’s heart began to beat faster as he begin to think of every possible reasoning he could tell Dan but frankly, none of them would be true. They would all be fibs. So he lets out a breath and then answers. “I wanted people to know our story.”
“But why?”
Dan’s voice sounds young and childlike, almost as if he’s asking a parent why he couldn’t have a sweet before his dinner. Phil swallows.
“I wanted people to know what they did.”
Dan breaks eye contact with the screen and looks down at his bedsheets, his fingers appear to be picking at a piece of thread.
“I can delete the video if you want me to.” Phil says. “Although I’m not sure…”
“Thank you for posting the video.”
The words catch Phil off guard. He was expecting Dan to yell at him, maybe even threaten legal action for speaking out about their relationship. But those words…they were like a punch in Phil’s gut in the best way possible.
“What?”
“When Marianne told me that you had posted that video, I initially was really upset because I thought you were doing it to maybe spite what I had asked of us on our Skype call or to even, I don’t know, exploit our own relationship.” Dan sniffled. “Marianne barred me from watching the video but I just caved and watched it and Phil, what you said at the end, I want all of that too.”
Phil feels his eyes prick a bit with happy tears and he looks up to see PJ’s own eyes have gone a bit glassy as well.
“I want to wake up next to you each morning and I want to kiss you whenever I want, where I want to.” Dan let out a laugh. “And let’s be real, definitely more sex because that has been incredible.”
PJ snickers in the background and Phil shushes him with a wave out of view.
“But more than anything, I just want to be with you.” Dan says. “I want to be able to go in public with you and post photos with you and not feel like I had to hide. I’ve been hiding for so long and I’m sick of it.” He lets out a breath. “I just want to be with you.”
“I love you, Dan.” It’s the first time Phil has said it to Dan directly and it feels a bit overwhelming but it also feels right at the same time.
“I love you too.” Dan says. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else before.”
Phil lets a few tears fall and Dan smiles and laughs a bit as he wipes his own tears on the other side of the screen.
“We’re such saps.” Dan laughs and Phil laughs with him because they are. They really are but Phil doesn’t care. “I’m going to make a post on Instagram and Twitter confirming what you said in the video and I’m going to ask for our privacy. Is that okay?”
Phil nods and smiles. “That is more than okay. I think I’m going to do that same.”
“Okay.” Dan says. “I have to get going now because I have to get ready for Jimmy Fallon tonight, perfect timing right? But anyway, I have to start preparing but I’ll make the post and everything. I’m sure this will be a talking point on Jimmy Fallon if you want to tune in later?”
Phil nods. It’ll be really really late for him but he needs to watch Dan on Jimmy Fallon. He has to.
“I’ll talk to you later?” Dan asks, breaking Phil’s thoughts and Phil nods quickly.
“Of course.”
“Mmm. Love you.” Dan says, a smile playing on his lips again. “I like being able to say that.”
“Me too.” Phil says. “Love you too.”
“Bye.”
Dan ends the video call and Phil is left staring at his own reflection in the black screen. He immediately turns to PJ who is half pouring a new glass of whiskey and half wiping a few tears from his cheeks.
“Can you please stay with me to watch Jimmy Fallon tonight?” Phil pleads.
PJ looks at Phil and nods quickly. “Of course but I have work in the morning and you do too.”
Phil shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Forget work tomorrow. Just…please be with me to watch Dan on there. Please?”
PJ nods and lets out a soft smile. “I’ll call Soph and have her bring us some snacks.”
“I should probably call my brother and my mum.” Phil says, speaking out loud.
PJ nods and Phil let’s out a long sigh and picks up his phone again. He remembers how he told Dan that he’ll write a note on Instagram and Twitter so he opens his notes app and just types.
“As you all know I posted the video today about Dan and I’s relationship. Although that was all private information, Dan and I have since spoken and neither one of us believe the video did any harm. We’re asking for everyone to respect our privacy during this time as we rebuild our relationship. Thank you all, Phil.”
Just as Phil posts his note, Dan’s note comes onto his timeline and he reads it.
“Earlier today, Phil posted a video regarding mine and his relationship these last few months. Although all of what he said is 100% accurate, we’re asking you all to respect us during this time and keep our privacy as just that. I will still be on Jimmy Fallon tonight but I would like to remind everyone to keep us in your thoughts and to please leave us to settle what we need to in private. Thank you.”
Phil smiles at bit at the note and then goes to the contacts in his phone and presses his mum’s name for the first time in over a week.
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Nightmares Are My Wonderland
((Heavily based on the universe in the movie “Push” with undertones of the anime/manga/game corpse party and my hero academia. TRIGGER WARNING; DOMESTIC ABUSE AND ALCOHOLISM IS HEAVILY IMPLIED WITH UNDERTONES OF SEXUAL ASSUALT AND MENTAL ABUSE))
((Looking for a partner to either ally with my villain and prime her to become something either truly evil or virtuous (meaning you can be a hero that saves her from a dark life if you’d like, I encourage this.) Or you can meet with her a decade after she’s become a villain, being more well-known and feared among the community and either ally her as a villain or fight her as a hero (meaning you would have to fight to defeat her as a hero, saving her soul would no longer be an option unless you’re creative) Please be very clear as to what you quirk is and how you use it))
((If you wish to play a Cannon character than this character is strictly made for a hero/villain environment as long as they belong to the comic book, manga, movie range then you are free to use them))
Sun glistens through the dark murky motel room as Valerie grips her long smooth locks, a soft tan to her skin despite living like a vampire most of her life, as her eyes flutter impatiently about the room. Dad didn't come home again, looks like he'll be home later today. Suddenly the neighbor and his weird cosplay girlfriend begin talking way too fucking loud for 6 a.m. before Valerie pinches the bridge of her nose, whining softly as the hangover settles over her small boxy frame "Fuuuuck! Shut Up!" she screams, throwing a pillow at the wall before sitting up at the edge of the bed. The walls are a dark smoke gray, with brown stains scattered about the room like carefully hung photos and a pitch colored trim between the concrete floor and ceiling “God, could we have picked a cheaper motel…” she huffs as if she hadn’t spent all her savings on a few months in this crappy place, it was easier than trying to find an apartment without a reliable source of income. At this point, she’d only been taking odd jobs in different towns with hopes of someday landing a job and settling down in a real home, but that was entirely impossible with her father’s drunken misdeeds in every town she had attempted to build a nest. Speaking of which, was it possible he sent her a text or tried to call her last night when she was drinking? Like Father, like daughter…Valerie stares at the bottle of 1800 Tequila Silver on the nightstand, it never tasted good but the feeling of floating was something worth chasing “I really ought to let him go drink himself to death far away from me…” but the truth is like the high liquor gives, she continues to chase what her father used to be…before…She dives for the bottle before the thought can bubble to the surface taking a massive swig, filling her mouth entirely before swallowing. She runs her fingers through the length of her hair as the liquor silences any chance of tears before she opens the app on her phone to check for any paying jobs. Please, something that pays more than 35 dollars!!! Browsing the list carefully her eyes flutter over something odd, but for 1,000 dollars…how could she pass this up? Imagine all the food, maybe even a motel upgrade…even for a few weeks would be better than breathing in mold for a day longer. The description reads ‘Social experiment; One-time visit required for payment. We are inviting 7 people to a night of fun and fright!(Each person will receive their own time and date to arrive, only one person will be selected to receive a permanent job and living quarters) You and 6 others will be suited up in gear that will analyze your vitals and brain functions while giving a boost in physical abilities so you can defend against ‘monsters’. This will require all 7 participants in different sessions to work alongside me to complete simulated courses, like a Virtual Reality Video Game! No Danger! No Risk! Just 23 hours of free food, socializing and a whole lot of exercise! Better message quickly or you’ll miss your chance!’ below was an email and phone number with the letters X.O.E signed below. Social experiment, huh? The young maiden smiles nervously at the idea of anything social, but quickly decides the money would clearly be worth it, although it could be a scam…on the off chance it is real “Suppose I just message them and see how it goes…”
Several Days Later; Monday
As the night of the experiment arrives, Valerie finds herself standing outside the most beautiful little house she’d ever seen in her 19-year life, it was white and plain colored with vines covered in tiny blossomed flowers scattered about its length and surrounded by a garden that must’ve come right out of a fairytale. Her brain wept at such beauty, unaware of the man hollowing out her soul with his eyes until the final time his eyes rushed over her, Valerie gasps gripping onto her sides with her arms across her abdomen
“Y-you must be Xavier Everts…” she blurts out, trying not to appear terrified to no avail “I...I’m Valerie Bonna-velt…I’m here for the…social…experiment…” she was beginning to wonder if there was such a thing, now that she stood in his unblinking presence. Had anyone messaged this man? “Excuse me…Could you please tell me what’s going on…I’m really confused” the man moves closer, and without a word takes her wrist dragging the trembling teen through the gate and into a poorly lit kitchen.
The man’s frail old voice booms “Master Everts!” Valerie stares numbly at the floor, her brain rushing over every possible scenario in which she’d never see the light of day again. Suddenly a warm voice coos back, in the sweetest most soothing manner an anxiety-stricken woman could hope for “Ah yes, back here Ms. Bonna-velt, I’ve awaited your arrival” she eagerly grips onto the velvet sheets draped over the door frame replacing a door, pulling them apart as she stepped into a large open Victorian style living room. She grips her chest as her brows dip and pull together in rhythm with the melting of her soul, the walls were deep pitch with roses painted all over that were framed two-fourths of the way down with a light brown border. This appeared to have an almost red glaze deepening in opacity as it met the floor unlike the lusterless tan trim. This matched the drapes and couches perfectly; Valerie could not help but stand in awe as her honey colored eyes polished the place over. From the floral-patterned wood below her feet to the glowing candle chandelier above her head it was truly a picture taken right from her dreams. A soft chuckle ripples through the air before her eyes meet with the tall thin man with paper white skin and long raven colored hair
“I see you appreciate the beauty in times far before you and I, but I’m afraid we haven’t the time to give you a tour.” His apologetic smile, spreads energy through her body like a surge of electricity as she nods, rushing to close the distance between herself and the much taller employer
“It is alright, really I’m sure we could do that another time”
In response to this he laughs “Confident one, aren’t we?”
His features were strong and well pronounced, it was like talking to a portrait in an art museum only this one was responding. He explained the way that the suits would have small needles placed in various areas to properly study Valerie’s vitals and chemical balances in response to the simulations around her. Truth be told she didn’t understand half of it, but the way his arms wrapped around her front and hands fumbled with the attachments kept her calm, unable to focus on the suspicious liquids behind each needle or the metallic scent coming from his clothing. The only thing on her mind was the way his lips would part for each breath as if breathing through his nose was not good enough, and the squinted glances he’d gift her with a calm cold grin
“My, you really enjoy being in my presence, don’t you?” Valerie felt her shoulders pull back as her spine straightened and she nodded softly, there was something…about this place, this man that felt too close to her heart…as if plucked right from her mind. She bites her lower lip, leaning into him to take in the rough metal odor as he roughly grips her waist with his right hand and slammed down onto a large orange button with his left
“I hope you continue to feel this way after your first trial.” His voice quickly escaping her mind as 5 needles inject strange liquids into various parts of her body simultaneously. Had her gut instinct been correct? Had no one else messaged this man? Did she sign up to be a lab rat? His fingers squeeze her skin roughly before releasing
“Don’t worry, it’s the power boost you were promised in the post, I hope you did not forget the terms of our agreement dear girl” all her muscles tense in response to the liquids.
This triggers the beginning of the first simulation titled “Of All the Things You Love” the words stretched across a beautiful Japanese garden, cherry blossoms swaying over the bold white words that slowly began to fade as Mr. Everts booms through the headphones covering her ears
“Now, you should be able to move normally about the world, you will need to find a clue in this world to escape. If you perform well enough, we will discuss having you over for the next trial. For now, all you need to know is your brain controls and develops this game as you play, I have zero control of what you see or what the clues are. I can only give you directions on where to find these clues, beyond that it will be up to you whether you escape or not.”
Valerie was stumped by this, her mind trying desperately to find a solution “My brain created this place? From a memory? Or a dream?” she thought, wrapping her arms around herself as always. Nothing felt different, her arms and legs were the same appendages she used every day. Truthfully it had appeared the only difference was a scenery and climate change. She takes in the warmth of the sun’s rays before he speaks again, somehow watching her stretch and twirl in the summer’s heat
“I see you prefer warmer climates, are you ready to begin?” his soft words felt as though they were placed there for a reason, as though they were meant to calm her uneasy state. “The clue is at the center of this garden, but beware, although your mind has created a calming environment that your cognizance can handle, there are still threats guarding each clue.” He sounded quite sure of himself, but the idea that her mind could have created something harmful in a place like this, it felt impossible. Nevertheless, Valerie forced herself forward deeper into the garden, trying to focus on the flowers, the sun and the warm floral smells that were fashioned by the two intertwining
“Are you sure there are fiends in this game? I know I watch a lot of horror movies, but it doesn’t seem like there could be anything like that… here…” even she sounded unsure of her conclusion, worried it was her brain trying to cope with the idea of treading unknown terrain. “What do I do if there is something trying to attack me anyway?” these seemed like questions she should have asked before starting the simulation, but it seemed she was purposefully placed in this place without knowledge of what was to come. This would force her to rely on the help of Mr. Everts or her own reflexes, making this far more challenging than she had first envisioned.
“Onee-chan!!!” A familiar tiny voice calls towards her from somewhere far ahead, followed by soft weak sobs “Onee-Chan!” the voice cries once again causing my feet to move towards it.
“This is such a bad idea, what if it isn’t really a little girl!” Valerie would scream at her body, but it continued to sprint towards a small terrified scream, until that scream had a face. Before her stood a little girl, not much older than 4 years old with soft black hair that framed her warm rosy skin “Hello there…little one…Do you need help?” Valerie whimpers, keeping her distance from this small child as the girl began to appear more and more familiar the longer, she stared.
“Onee-chan” Yuka cried, looking over her shoulder with the one side of her face that still had an eye, immediately being recognized by the Valerie as one of the victims in her favorite anime.
“No. No no no, this is impossible. You’re not real!” she cried, taking a step back from the child before it revealed its entire face. Blood dripping from the hollow socket that used to house Yuka’s eye as the ghoulish kid closed the distance between herself and Valerie. It was like lightspeed one second Yuka was staring at her and the next she was crying to be saved with tiny hands wrapped tightly around her throat.
“You have to fight, if you want to survive you must fight” Everts calls, reminding her this was merely a simulation. Valerie groans loudly, slamming her elbow into the child’s skull and with a loud crack the girl’s skull fragments spray about the smooth dirt path leading to the center. The corpse began to shrivel like a salted snail until there was nothing left of the falsified child. Needing to remind herself this was just a game, despite the years that torture scene had terrorized her memory.
“It’s Okay Bonna-velt, you can do this. You can do this! You need to breathe and remember your goal” this seemed to do the trick, as Valerie got to her feet once more and began on the path to the center of the world which appeared to have a large pine tree more massive than a skyscraper, the point nearly pierced the sky. “Looks as though my awareness was kind enough to give me a marker. Better return the favor and move swiftly” with this the young girl closed the distance between herself and the wooded forest housing her first clue. The wind whistled an alluring tune as she cautiously stepped into the shaded lot, each tree huddled closely together to deny the rays of sunlight any access while below was an unkept brush that slicked over towards the center, all signs pointed forward. What lied behind this damp cloaked brush? Valerie ties back her long brown hair in a loose poorly constructed bun before entering with a nervous whine, as she passed the threshold the world around her began to change. Although the foliage remained trees, the leaves had grown much larger and pronounced than pines with long limbs that stretched out to the similar trees surrounding it. The terrain matching that of a rainforest, with the sounds of life flooding the air.
“What did you do!?” Everts chimes suddenly, making her body jolt and tense. “How did you change your surroundings? None of the other subjects were able to change their environment without finding a clue” his tone sounded agitated, but for what reason? Had she done something wrong?
“I’m not sure, I just thought I was done with that world…Did I do something wrong?” her voice sounding so terribly unsure of her accidental decision to change the world, unaware that was even something she was able to do.
“No, my apologies. I was merely annoyed with myself for having my attention elsewhere…. You are a wonderful specimen Valerie. I’ve never found a human who’s suited my fancy so immensely, please continue” He chirped, suddenly she feels him grip her waist with both hands and squeeze roughly forcing a moan from her trembling lips. It was embarrassing, but he achieved his goal as she decided not to ask any more questions before getting closer to the first clue. All along her path we’re dried and torn snake skins that grew larger the closer she managed to get, as though there was a large snake that had been shedding in this area over the span of its life. This Idea alone was not enough to scare her, but thinking back she remembered one snake that made her skin crawl. Kaa from the jungle book, no beast should have the ability to manipulate living beings’ minds. A shiver ran up her spine
“Oh god Bonna-velt…tell me you didn’t do that to us…tell me you were thinking snakes on a plane or something harmless like that” but there was no undoing what had already been done, hissing suddenly filled the air.
HISSSSSSS
HISSSSSSSSS
HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
She screamed, running forward frantically, unaware that she was headed towards the snake instead of away from it until her body slams against a large, thick and scaly body before falling onto her behind “No no no no! Close your eyes, close your eyes!” Valerie screams afraid of anything sentient invading her mind as her heels dig into the dirt in front of her, pushing her body away as quickly as her behind will scoot. Woefully she does not scoot fast enough, as soon she can feel that same meaty, scaly body slithering around her and crushing her ribs tighter and snugger by the minute. With her eyes closed the maiden begins shouting at the beast through constricted breaths “I’m not looking into your eyes! You’re not real! And You cannot control me!” it felt like her lungs would pop after this declaration, her eyes threatening to evacuate from her skull as a result of so much pressure. It was not only terrifying to see these characters come to life, but to witness them behaving so different than the characters they represented from shows, movies and books. Memory has a funny way of warping reality, although Yuka was no villain in her stunning debut the memories of her revolve around a nightmare that visited young Valerie from time to time. This made Yuka the perfect first trial according to her brain, and this brainwashing beast was no different.
“There is no need for you to fight me now. You’ve given me all I need” the beastress hisses, as her cold scaly body loosens its grip letting the young girl breathe for a moment. “Open those beautiful eyes, and see for yourself” Her eyes fluttering open to see the snake is no where near her body, and yet it felt as though the thick meaty body began to constrict around her again
“Gah! How are you-…you doing this?” she gasps, unable to breathe the tighter this invisible body squeezes around her small frame. What is going on?! Valerie stares at the serpent as it moves in from the brush
“Why would I waste my time crushing you, when you’ll do it for me?” Kaa smugly hisses towards her, leaving the young girl choking and confused before it eases up allowing her to breathe again “Why waste my time on something as helpless as you? Or Someone so selfish?” the sound of the viper’s harsh words makes each gasped breath that much more painful.
“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!” Valerie cries out, feeling a sharp pinch in her left lung before erupting into a fit of coughs, blood oozing from her chest and out her mouth along with mucus from smoking habitually. Her eyes closed tightly as it pools all over directly below Valerie’s trembling body, it felt like lava was pouring from her lungs and out her throat
“Poor thing, it’s really eating you up inside isn’t it?” the serpent cackles, closing the distance between the young human and herself, quickly jerking the young girls chin upward with the end of it’s tail “You should have spoken out, before you could no longer speak at all”. Suddenly Valerie feels the large scaly body starting to coil around her again “Oh dear, I’d never imagined you’d make yourself suffer so much” The young girl spits the last bit of blood onto the floor before looking up at the temptress and yelling
“Don’t get so smug, thinking you’ve won!” the roar of her voice makes the snake stumble and the hypnosis break, knocking the terrified girl to the ground as her surroundings are returned to that garden from the beginning of the game. Kaa had control of her since the moment she stepped into the forest, warping her surroundings to toy with the scared girl. “What?! Why are we here? What did you do?!” these questions swirl around the thick cold air for seconds before Valerie launches at the small snake, gripping the back of its head and the third fourth of it’s body. ‘You have to kill it, it will take over your mind again if you don’t kill it’ her mind screams as she pulls the beast apart in once swift motion, spraying its blood all over herself and the surrounding trees as her knuckles clack together behind her.
“Mhhhm, what a good look for you.” He groans, finally releasing her hips from his hands, wait…Was He holding onto her this entire time? No, his hands started at her waist, now they’re on the sides of her hips. Has he been petting her this whole time?! A blush overcomes her face as an item within the world suddenly begins to glow “That is the clue for the next trial Ms. Bonna-velt…Take it and read its contents carefully, for it can only be deciphered by you.”
The small slab was glistening so brightly it’s shape could not be interpreted from this distance, and as the young adventuress closed the distance she had to use her arms to cover her eyes “I always wondered what the highlighted items looked like inside the game, but this is insane” she whimpered in regards to the blinding light emitting off the clay slab, as her hands gripped the bottom end it ceased floating and glowing, resting in her tiny palms as a normal chiseled slab “What you’ve found is what you fear, but what you seek is gone my dear” the words flowing from her lips like unsteady breaths “What you’ve found is what you fear…Do they mean Yuka and Kaa? But what you seek is gone my dear? Gone? Like disappeared or like dead?” she puzzled over this for a moment before the words became clear. The young maiden held the slab tightly to her chest, it was all so clear. Yuka was mother, begging to be saved by a simple phone call to the police department and Kaa was the guilt crushing her insides for leaving her mother in the hands of her father, she had only wanted to get away from the fighting for a few hours, a day at most, but the family she’d left behind that day was no longer there upon her arrival. As tears rolled down her heated cheeks like water off a melting icicle, she hugged herself tightly and cried out “The Clue is Mother” before the device suddenly releases her from the simulation.
“Welcome back Young Bonna-velt…” Everts cooed, catching her body as gravity gave way to her tired limbs. Despite physically never moving, her body felt heavy and exhausted as though she’d been running marathons all night “Do not worry, the serum will heal all your aches by the morning. As well as reform some of your least performing organ systems to a new undamaged state.” Almost certain he meant her liver and lungs, but would not directly say these as to not pry too deep into her personal life. Suppose he’s seen too much already? Her eyes begin to grow heavy against his warm frame until the world around her fades into darkness.
The Morning of Mourning
The following morning, Valerie wakes to the dark dank hotel she’d left her unconscious father resting in, wait…How did she get here?! She rubs her temples, sitting up at the middle of the same lumpy mattress she’s slept on for nearly a month now. A sharp pain jolts up her spine, followed by the need to vomit with her head spinning like a dreidel as she plops back down across the mattress watching the small warped ceiling fan weakly wobble in a circle. “uhhh” she groans, this was like a hangover, morning sickness and fever chills had a baby leaving it in the young girl’s skull “Small price to pay for a healthy body, right?” wanting to believe that the strange man from the internet was telling her the truth. Should she see a doctor? A better question is…Does she have the money to visit a doctor? Oh right, the thousand dollars. Rolling onto her side, Valerie looks around both sides of the bed to see if her wallet was on the nightstand, but instead of the torn, leather wallet her mother had gifted Valerie…there was a wave of deep crimson covering the night stand, wall and right half of her bed. Her eyes widen ‘Mr. Everts no!’ her mind sobbed as she pushed herself onto her belly, kicking herself forward to find Victor Dean Bonna-velt with the upper half of his skull removed, as though whomever did this cut from the middle of the eye sockets around. She gagged, pushing herself upward in a rush to get away, but her palm slips on the blood covered wood slamming her body forward and into the corpse where her skull would bounce off the concrete a couple times with the weight of her body sliding her under the second bed with ease. The entire front half of her body smothered in hot, sticky blood as her breathing grows heavier “Someone, please help me…” she whispers, before fading out of consciousness
Hours later the young girl stirs from beneath her father’s bed, unaware of her surroundings beyond a foul smell and the suffocating, cramped space she finds herself crammed in.
Buzz Buzz,
Buzz Buzz,
Buzz Buzz!
Valerie’s phone erupts with life, vibrating on the nightstand closest to the door, she scrambles forward kicking at the guts behind her with loud disgusting squishing sounds as she squirms from under the bed’s grip. She whines softly, trying to rub the filth from her face as her eyes adjust to the darkness
“Dad? Can you get that!” she groans, wiping her hands on her shirt before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The phone once again springs to life and danced about the nightstand, glossing over the bedroom with a bright blue light as Valerie is reminded of the scene that coated her in…blood…This is blood…A soft chuckle leaves her cowering lips as the phone erupts with a call, the letters X.O.E displayed in bold letters on the tiny screen, slowly she inches past the bed as she tries desperately to keep her from seeing her disemboweled parent again “Block it out Valerie, you have to stay focused, try to remember” she whispers softly. This seemed to ease her nerves as she answered the phone with a monotone “Hello.”
“MS. BONNA-VELT! My gracious dove, how are you this fine eve?” He booms, a cheery whimsy to his words as though he was utterly pleased to speak to the young girl once again. She takes a deep breath before trying to speak again, so much had happened, so much that she needed to know about the events leading up to…to…She swallows hard, holding herself loosely with one arm as the other helps her hand hold up the phone
“N-not very good Mr. Everts… I’m having trouble remembering…some things…” to this he responded with a deep sigh that melted into a groan, she could feel his smile fade with her words, but he had needed to know. “Please Mr. Everts, I don’t mean to annoy you, I had only hoped you’d fill in some gaps…” an insecurity to her tone, feeling the tension slowly start to dissolve before he replies again with a soft hearty laugh
“I see young girl; your brain must be suppressing some things in an attempt to protect you. Could I come get you from your motel and take you elsewhere to clear your mind? I’m sure the smell is getting to you” Somehow his words made it sound like he knew her father’s corpse was only feet away from her beginning to pucker and bloat. How long had she been out? How long had the body been there? It had to have been a few days for the smell and appearance to be this bad, right?
“Yes please, please come get me!” she cries, not wanting to think about how old the blood on her body was or how she’d come to be covered in it to begin with. Today was beginning to be much worse than she’d ever planned when suddenly there’s a knocking at the door
“Then come outside my love, daddy’s here” he hums through the phone, making her pause and stare at the door…He…He did this…Is he…Is he going to kill her too? “Don’t be shy my sweet flower, come say hello” he coos once more, trying to lure her from her nest, but Valerie is unable to move despite standing only a few feet from the unlocked door. She watches as the handle turns left all the way “Hello?! Are you alright?!” his tone drowning with worry as the handle twists all the way to the right “Say something” he once again cries, throwing the door open to the vision of his beautiful little girl, the fruit of his labor and the love of his life. Their eyes lock, making him visibly swoon “You look so beautiful all painted up for daddy” He closes the distance between them, taking hold of her sides as his thumbs softly rub her love-handles and he washes her over with his gaze once more “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful” he whispers before his lips press to her jawline, making her body tremble “Valerie, it’s okay. I stayed by your side for these last 4 days, but I didn’t want to scare you…I couldn’t be here when you woke, I’m so terribly sorry…” what had he meant by that? He’s been here with her? What had she done with him on those days and why could she not remember…?
“What are you talking about!” she screams, shoving him to the ground before plopping down onto the bed with an ugly sob “What would you have been doing here for the last four days if I wasn’t awake! Why are you doing this to me!” she wails, slamming her fists into her own stomach a few times “Or am I right to believe I was involved somehow?”
“Involved?” he repeats, as though the word is foreign to him before he erupts with laughter “Such a shame, we’ll have to fix that broken memory of yours right away” with this he pushed himself upward and onto his feet in one swift motion, who the hell is this dude? “But first, I will need you to listen little girl. Come here” he snips, curling his finger in towards himself to direct her.
‘Do I have a choice? What will happen if I don’t? And why didn’t he answer my question’ these were the thoughts that plagued her mind as she obediently hoisted herself upward to her feet and under the arm of the man that obviously murdered her father.
“Atta Girl” He chirps, walking her out the deep green door towards a short maroon 2004 Mercury Marauder with smoky gray leather seats and interior, upon closer inspection she finds the windshield cracked and the radio removed. He let go of her long enough to toss the door open and shove her into the vehicle, but rather than go around the car he scoots along the front of the seats to the driver’s side, pulling the passenger door closed behind him. He starts the car as his eyes lock with hers intently “Please smile little one, you’re going to remember everything soon” somehow, she knew this was meant to calm her, but those words had an effect neither of them could have predicted. As the car backs up, jolting her body forward she grips the car door and the dash as a flash of the days that lead to these events fills her head.
An image of Valerie covered with blood, wearing a crazed grin as a camera films “My, my, such a beautiful girl painted up for daddy…Do you enjoy this? Does it feel good when you remember how it feels to be happy? Such a gorgeous smile you have little one” the man behind it booms, that strange familiar voice. Who is that? It felt as though she was looking through a smudged lens at the world surrounding her “I will be the protector of your memories my love, never again will you feel isolated or trapped. Never again will I allow anything to harm you, my sweet dove. That sick bastard didn’t deserve a daughter as perfect as you, therefore I will take you myself. And through experimentation you will be reborn as my daughter” the camera moves as he draws closer to my face, Everts!!!! He cups her cheek softly, why does his voice sound so melodic right now compared to real life and what does this memory mean? Valerie snaps back to reality as suddenly as she had left it, staring down at the rubber mat place below her feet
“Where are we going?” she mumbles, feeling her palms and hairline begin to sweat “And how much longer? I’m…I’m tired…” a soft tremble to her words, showing that same insecurity that drew him towards her to begin with. He quickly takes her hand in his, resting the two on her thigh as he spoke
“Back to our nest my little dove, it will be quite a while I’m afraid. If you wish to sleep, you can lean on daddy. I promise you’ll be safe” he softly coos, something that once was so comforting felt like a death sentence
“That’s okay…I’ll be alright…daddy” the word felt like vomit leaving her mouth, nothing could be more revolting, but a smile rested comfortably on his face after she had knighted him with his self-proclaimed title “Could you tell me more about our nest?” she hums softly, looking out her window onto the horizon as she buckles herself in the seat more securely not wanting to look towards him.
“It’s out of state I’m afraid, so that beautiful home you wished to tour will be left to collect dust. I have many homes I’ve strategically purchased around the united states and a few in Italy, but we won’t be leaving the country anytime soon. It is in a small town just outside of Bozeman, Montana. It is a very beautiful place, you can see the mountains so that’s a plus, but there’s also a lot of eyes, it is a heavily populated town and for good reason. The home itself is rather cheery and wooden, far from the town for good reason and it overlooks a lake.” The way he spoke made him almost seem normal to her, like he felt panicked for being ‘put on the spot’ and was trying to push past the feeling. Why did he feel so eerie before? She leans closer to the window, feeling the vibration of the car rock her into a deep sleep with an uncertainty towards the days to come.
Sunlight pours in through the windows like an estuary the rays penetrated the glass with ease as it lacked any form of tinting, the light was blinding to sleep covered eyes making life just a little harder for the teen girl “Mhhh!” she groaned, stretching as she sat up off the lap of her captor, it felt so good to sleep after processing so much, but immediately she is reminded of her situation
“Did you sleep well my little dove?” He coos, eyes focused on the road as he awaits her response. It had taken a moment for her to realize, but Valerie remembered falling asleep on the door against the window…Although she had avoided it before her eyes locked on the face that she once found so charming
“Did you…move me?” Irritation tainted each syllable of this question as her eyes burned holes into his soul as she waited for him to confirm what she already knew; it was a way of telling herself she wasn’t crazy.
“Yes, you looked so uncomfortable away from daddy…” he pouted, pushing his lower lip out as though it would influence her response at all. Why did he need to move her onto his lap?! So close to his…Her face turns bright red as she looks away from him, no telling what he could have done to her whilst she slept. Valerie was known to be able to sleep through a hurricane, her mother used to have to carry her sleeping body to the shower and drench her just to get her to school on time because standing her up stopped working after she’d gotten used to it. “I’ve seen that look before; you needn’t worry… I would never taint your purity without permission. I may have my warts, but things of that nature don’t suit my fancy…” meaning he did want her, but is it possible he expects her to want him in time? Rubbing her eyes, the girl yawns softly
“Well good…I don’t think I’d handle something like that very well…” there was truth to her words, but the way she phrased it was incorrect. She was relieved to find out he was not a self-proclaimed rapist, but this brought another question to her attention. He has his warts, but not of that nature…What nature does suit his fancy? She’d hoped it was her paranoia telling her what he fancied was far worse, and turned to her captor sleepily “Just…don’t touch me when I’m sleeping” she huffs, why was this something that needed to be said? It felt like common sense to Valerie, but not all monsters are cut from the same tattered cloth. “How close are we?” her soft quaking voice whispered as the young girl pulled her knees towards her chest and wrapped her slightly muscular arms around them before resting her chin on her knees.
“Only a few miles now. Did you want to stop and get something to eat? Stretch? Use the Bathroom? You know…Normal Human Road-trip activities…”It was clear he felt a little less comfortable with her after being reprimanded “Suppose I can hardly remember what other humans do anymore” he nervously chuckles, slowing the car a bit as his eyes wash Valerie over “I know…I can be a bit much, but I only have your best intentions in mind. I hate to admit I’ve been insensitive…I had time to think on this whilst you slept. I was not sure, but it felt like you were scared of me yesterday…and well, you’ve confirmed that today… with your response to something I’d hoped to be a kind gesture, I will admit I have not had much interaction with other people since college.” He pauses and looks away from her, back to the road, returning to normal speed in one smooth motion. Taking a deep breath Xavier continues in an unsteady tone “What I am hoping to convey is that, I am no threat to you Valerie Amerai Bonna-velt. I may be terrible with social skills and it’s possible my attempts at affection are more…creepy…than…romantic.”
“But?” She hums, leaning back in her chair so her spine is straight as her eyes look expectantly at him. She’d only had him in her life for a few days and already she expected so much of him. Was she starting to care? “But you killed my father?” suddenly the car screeches to a halt skidding towards the side of the road before he turns to face Valerie; the nineteen-year-old Mongolian American whose forehead is resting on the dash thanks to such an abrupt stop.
“I am not the one who killed that man Valerie, you are” the words clap against her ear drums like a gunshot, echoing all the way down her spine as he gripped her wrists “I was hoping to show you the video…but you went and made me spoil the cinematic reveal” he giggles, sounding pleased with himself as Xavier jerks the young girl closer, he was in his late sixties despite not looking a day over twenty-two and much stronger than Valerie despite his nerdy weakling façade “I know this is a lot, and although I love to watch a mind deteriorate…” He pauses, dragging his tongue over his upper lip as though thinking about changing his mind “…I want you to ease into these memories…You had to know the truth, but sometimes these things can be easier if you don’t try to rush it and force my hand. You could have remembered on your own in a few weeks, days or hours, but I wanted to at least wait until you were able to isolate yourself in a room away from me.” What was that? Did his personality start to act up, but he brought it back down to a normal level? What is this guy’s deal? “Suppose now that you know it’s inside the car, I’ll have to ask you to be patience an-”
“That’s okay… I’d rather put off…knowing all the details for now…If what you say is true, then this is probably my last happy day…funny because yesterday was probably one of the worst days of my life…” Valerie forces a laugh, wanting to conceal the shattering pieces leftover from her crumbling sanity. “Food does sound nice…” she whimpers softly, wanting to sway the conversation elsewhere as quickly as possible, to this Xavier swoons letting out a deep hum towards her
“This is why I love you, you really get me” he lets go of her, turning to start the car back up with little trouble “We should learn to focus on the good and a full tummy sounds brilliant!” he coos, pulling away from the shoulder and back onto the highway “What sorts of foods suit your fancy?” he hums, using that phrase again
But things of that nature don’t suit my fancy
What sorts of foods suit your fancy?
“I prefer something salty or savory, sweet things don’t suit my fancy” She hums, being nonspecific as always “I will admit I am being vague because I don’t want to displease you, it’s such a pain to deal with going back and forth over and over….” Her father had a funny way of convincing her to pick whilst rejecting every option she chose until she suggested what he originally wanted to begin with. The entire mess was frustrating for Valerie, she could hardly imagine a person who could stand a situation like that, but she was never a girl of patience.
“Aw how cute, you used my favorite phrasing! Hmmm…Salty or Savory? What a shame you don’t like sweets, there are lots of bakeries on the map. Well what about pizza?” he chimes, trying to cover everything she’s said to him, to prove his willingness to listen “It’s only sweet depending on your toppings and cheese is normally pretty sodium heavy”
“Fantastic idea!” She booms, leaning against the door as she watches him juggle driver and navigating. Something about this struggle was amusing to her, it was in no where near the suffering she’d endured as well as apparently creating it. Her smug grin fades, what an odd thing to find amusing…
The Arrival; Life’s gift
The cabin was a warm sandy tan, the outside looking as though full logs were stacked on top of each other to form the walls despite having such large full windows and crystal doors that slide open like a window laying on it’s side. What a beautiful home! Valerie forces a sweet smile as she rushes to the entrance running her fingers over the smooth glass of the door as her eyes wash over the pitch steel borders that kept the crystal in place. On either side of the door are golden dragons carved into the light wood, she can hardly stop herself from running her fingers over the glistening design “How much does a place like go for anyway?” she slurs, her eyes bouncing from her new shelter to Xavier
“To be perfectly candid, I do not remember. It may have been a gift from one of my admirers or one of the homes purchased by my parents…The décor will most certainly remind me where this cabin came from.” He closes the distance between himself and the young girl before nudging her with his hip “Open the door for me, my sweet dove” the sounds of pleasure rippling in throughout his voice as he watched a shiver jolt up the young girl’s spine.
“What did I tell you? That makes me so uncomfortable…” Valerie groans, sliding the door open for the lengthy man as he stumbled inside holding several boxes and bags, he had clearly prepared for this trip. Had he known they’d need to flee Premont, Texas? She felt deep inside herself that those videos contained a truth beyond that of her father’s demise. Valerie rubs her arms softly before entering the home, inside was dozens of family photos, anchors, and sea shells as if the entire home had been decorated with an ocean side theme “So? Parents? Or lovers?” she calls into the house. Quickly she follows behind her voice deeper into the cabin, where her feet meet the animal skin rugs stacked on top of one another about the room, nearly covering all the cherry-wood that made up the floor. The room was small compared to the rest of the house, with a large “L” shaped couch in the center of the room with many colorful pillows with words like “Live, Laugh, Love” written in cursive “God it’s so cozy I can literally feel the sea of big fluffy blankets and fuzzy socks beginning to smother me” she calls, fake dying as her body plops onto the plush coffee sofa
“Oh, don’t complain, we won’t be staying here long.” He huffs, sitting down near the young maiden’s feet as he leans deep into the couch as a sigh of relief blooms from his pouty lips “You could have assisted me in moving our luggage”
“Assist my kidnapper in moving his luggage and my stolen stuff? Do you ever listen to yourself when you speak?” she snips back quickly, hearing the smile on his face as he sits up, hunching over as his elbows rest on his knees and his finger intertwine
“I hardly kidnapped you, you walked with me to the car with no resistance and you didn’t try to run at Luigi’s Haunted Pizza, so I could very easily disagree with you. The same as any jury would, evidence makes a case young Bonna-velt and I’m afraid the proof is not on your side” Valerie could not stand his smugness, although this was only the case because Xavier was exposing the truth, although her terror served as a mental block she’d shown no sign of trying to escape this man’s clutches. Why was that? Was it the information he had about the four nights escaping her memory? Or the fear of starting over fresh with an unfamiliar face? She’d spent so many years living with her father, with no friends or family members to lean on her father was truly all she had left in this world and the moment he was gone, she latched onto this parasite as though it was a host. “Are you ready for tonight’s examination?” he hums, looking her over with an intense gaze “There’s been no resurface of your abilities during our trip, this leads me to believe you have a specific trigger that allows you to use those gifts” did he mean the body enhancers he injected into me the first night we met?
“Not now…I want to nap first, it’s been a long day of really bad news…I really just want to sleep…” suddenly the couch depresses, like something is crawling over her body, she feels warm thighs pushing her knees into her stomach by raising her thighs. She looks up to see him pressing his manhood to her crotch as he leans over her small frame, beginning to kiss her neck and collar bone as his arm slides under the back of her left shoulder. He cups the nape of her neck, looking deep into her eyes with a burning desire
“Tell me you’ll let me hold you whilst you sleep?” He whimpers, resting his chin on the tops of her breasts “It would be an honor to protect you throughout the night” she felt there was more to this than what he gave away, but whether she wanted to or not he quickly flipped the two so his body was below her on the opposite side of the couch “Cuddle into me and christen me yours forever” these words were so intense, what had he wanted her to say? Gripping onto his shirt, she stares down at him like a deer in the headlights very obviously afraid of such a sudden advance towards her.
“I don’t think so…You really ought to go…” She whispers, climbing of his body with great struggle as he tries to hold her close to him, Valerie disliked this pressure and although she wanted so badly to be held until all her problems could melt into the sound of two hearts beating. “Goodnight Everts…” She hums, wandering off into the home to find a bed to sleep in, when the sound of a vhs tape playing floods the air as a light flickered through a cracked door at the end of the hall. Valerie held her breath as she heard her own voice whine “I don’t wanna do this, I wanna sleep!” it was very clearly her, but it sounded much more intoxicated than she was.
“Val? What are you doing?! Who is this guy?! Val?! VALERIE!”
Daddy! Her eyes swarm with tears as she runs to the room, knocking the door open with such great force that the metal door makes a depression where it met the wall as her eyes meet with a flickering light. When her eyes finally adjust to the monitor’s blinding blue light, Valerie recognizes herself standing next to a liquified blur of reds, pinks, browns and grays, what on earth is that? She leans into the screen trying to take a better look at blob when suddenly it solidifies reforming the man she called father gasping for air, suppose lungs don’t work in liquid form.
“Valerie…Valerie please”
Tears swell in the young girl’s eyes as she watches her father plead with a dead-eyed version of herself, the mindless woman one screen crouches down looking him deep into his eyes “Solid, Gaseous, Liquid…Let us see if we can do all at once” the girl whispers forcing his mouth open as her fingers glow a bright white, making the saliva in his mouth and throat a solid. As her father chokes, trying to pull the brittle saliva from his throat as the beastress cackles
“Such a beautiful girl, are you enjoying your new powers? Show me more, show daddy what you can do” a voice off camera cheers, as Valerie’s father looks at the man behind the voice with terror as the dead eyed Valerie grips his body at a couple different areas and with a flash of light she changes his body into a mess of liquids, colored gases and hardened flesh.
“Just like ice” the girl cries slamming her fist into the upper half of his skull, watching the ice-like matter shatter and scatter about the room like red shards of glass. Valerie looks away from the screen, unable to watch herself rage like a brat being denied of something it wants as she vomits into the hall “h-how could I do this?” she trembles through rough gags, the world around her beginning to twirl like a ballerina. You did it Valerie, you did it without hesitation and you put this on mom. “YOU MONSTER! HOW COULD YOU?” Valerie cries at herself, feeling the ground quake below her, as her brain swells with memories of abuse, years of mental and physical abuse. NO, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT! HE WAS TOO DRUNK TO UNDERSTAND! IT WAS NOT FAIR! NO! He did this! He did this to me… She slams her fists into the sides of her skull as tears stream down her face, why did he do this to her? What has she become? These feelings bring upon an unknown feeling that boils up inside her bringing forward the quirk named Matter Manipulation; the name is suddenly all she can think about, but where had it come from?
“Valerie! Valerie!” Xavier cries, rounding the corner as the world around him suddenly begins to mold and change “Valerie no!” He cries as his body freezes in place, standing frozen like stone as he stared into her eyes. His legs beginning to change color and collapse below him as the blood in his legs solidifies “Please! STOP IT VALERIE! PLEASE I LOVE YOU!” he sobs in terror, but his wails fall upon deaf ears as Valerie closes the distance between the two of them and grip his neck tightly turning it into a floating blur of flesh colored liquids. The sounds of the tape rewinding replacing a theme song, the vhs tape beginning once again as her hands grip his shoulders
“Wait Gorgeous! I have something to tell you, darling. That dress is so snug, it really suits my fancy” Xavier calls through the screen, putting more emphasis on his favorite phrase when it suddenly becomes clear to Valerie. She’d noticed every time he used that phrasing her brain became fuzzy and she felt more inclined to listen to him, it was clear he’d kept her under this state when the effects of his serum were most potent.
“Your ability…what is it?” she snips, reforming his throat to its solid form. He stumbles forward gripping onto her, his head spinning as she watches him gasp and choke on the very air he has been deprived of. How cute! Look at him struggle! A smile plays on her lips as she steps back watching him fall onto his hands and knees
“My sweet dove, please, I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment and being tortured doesn’t suit my fancy” He whines, trying once again to strain her consciousness to no avail, she pushes her power hard against him once more watching him squirm in agony before gasping for air once again “Fine…It’s called Deception; it’s the ability to change what a person feels or sees, I can only maintain this ability for 6 days and my strength over a person’s mind varies on the amount of trust I have between myself and that person….the less a person trusts me the harder it is to maintain the false reality… and your power is a chemical mixture of my own ability and several others….those samples were extracted through forcible autopsy…”Forcible autopsy? Does that mean he’s made a name for himself? He’d never been direct with her before, but she knew immediately this was the standard, a form of expectation for future acquaintances. A smile spreads across her face as she grips his throat from behind pushing him deep into the wood as she twirls planting her behind onto the arch of his back before her palms glow sliding from his neck down his spine liquifying his essence
The Heroes’ Arrival; Save Me
Had either of them thought this through?! Had she even considered repercussions for her actions? Although she’d hardly had time to adapt to these new memories, there was no time to watch the puppeteer draw his last breath. She releases him from her hold, exposing herself for the monster she is as the thick black smoke that makes us her body is wavered by someone busting in the front door, the glass shattering and bouncing off various areas around the entrance.
“Doctor Everts” a strong woman’s voice calls, as the sound of footsteps advancing towards the pair fills the silence. Damn it! Unable to hold him and continuously restructure the liquid formation of his throat as her time limit was 30 seconds without contact, but luckily his throat would likely reform with some sort of mutation as she didn’t maintain it’s shape up until it’s reforming. She leaps up from his body, rushing for a window in the back room behind the stack of screens and vhs players, Valerie tosses the rack holding the monitors down onto the door jamming it shut. She pushes off the toppled metal rack she grips onto the windowsill pulling herself through the window and onto slick dew-covered grass that leads into a forest of some kind, pushing off the ground with her hands she takes off into full sprint, no sense in trying to save energy if she has no idea how to control this stupid ability! She tries snapping her fingers and focusing as she builds the distance between herself and the heroes who would never understand the ever-growing hollowness inside her, she’d become a murder, there was no other path for her.
((This is where the road forks, for those of you who wish to save this pitiful hate-birthed beast then this is where your character will enter as either a hero or villain, either way you must play an ally))
((For those of you who wish to have a more matured/seasoned villain you will continue from here and reply to the end of this post))
A Decade to Fester; They Do Not Dare Defy Me
Many years have past since the day Matter Manipulation was gifted to young Valerie, a decade to be quite precise and as the temptress neared her thirties a broiling need to be acknowledged by the world grew in its wake. She’d wasted enough time training, scheming, and waiting for a day when the world would be forced to face pain beyond their feeble little dreams.
“Aqua Regia!” Darius booms, entering her chambers with a concerned expression rest on his glowing ocean eyes as they lock onto the voluptuous Valerie, he was her second in command and most trusted ally, the one who saved her from the cruelty of those who held the title of Heroes. Those who would brand her very soul with a bible of law; a law book sewn together by the suffering and consumption of it’s own people, written in the blood of every less than fair pigment or disobedient civilian by sadists and hypocrites. “Val, please we must speak of the mission to come. If either you or I were to misstep we would lose the very foundation of all that we have built, quickly dear girl we mustn’t waste time” with this he waved me towards the door as his soft poetic mannerisms lull her senses into a calm
“Yes, Of course, but please Avalon do not fret, you are the key to my throne and with you I will forge a Camelot that would put Tartarus to shame” Aqua Regia coos, slipping from her solid form into a smoke like cloud to enhance her speed as she moves towards the villain Elusion with the quirk Escape Artist or the ability to find an escape plan for any situation, the back lash is sometimes there really is no escape although he has yet to stumble upon this problem. Valerie is able to return to solid form by keeping hands, heart and lungs solid inside the smoke form otherwise her body would remain gaseous until reaching the limited amount of time. This time gap started at thirty seconds, but after nearly a decade of training she can hold most things in any of the three forms for a whole hour, sadly no human can hold their breath for an hour so the gift has become rather tricky to maneuver without sparing a few insignificant lives. As her body slowly reforms Darius takes this time to go over some of our earlier successes
“Indeed, Queen Arthur” He would start, wanting to begin on her good side “The first two steps of our plan have come to fruition with very minor mishaps, the pot has been stirred as you say. Drug Families are at each other’s throats trying to find the rat amongst them, unaware it was the clients who sold them to the pros. Secondly, all of the bombs went off without a hitch, except the last hospital apparently a hero arrived in time to stop both with seconds to spare.” His face remained calm and hard like a statue, he knew this would make her erupt furious that anyone was able to catch onto her scheme “But we’ve reached the results you hoped for Ms. Regia, the pros have all eyes on you for the show tonight.” Despite the second step having a few misfires everything was going according to plan.
“Well…At least things are still moving forward, are the boys reaching out to the head of each family as we speak?” She groans, clearly annoyed with the lack of security in her strategy, nothing is guaranteed and yet she’d hoped this would as close to guaranteed as physically possible. The two descend the stairs her warm honey eyes scan the crumbling lot for any sign of you, surely you knew she would be here awaiting your arrival, her lower lip presses out in a pout as she looks to her partner “Suppose they didn’t understand the clues that we left with each body?”
“Nonsense Mistress, you were very careful to be as obvious as possible” He assures her as she pauses, lingering at the window from the second floor. She was much taller now due to the various hormones and chemical injected into her body all those years ago, her hair was a long chocolate stream of shiny wavy locks and her once ashen tan skin soon became a warm mocha. Her once boxy frame had smoothed over into a more feminine look, being replaced with an hourglass figure. “Forgive my sentiment, but you’ve come too far Valerie to ever be made a fool of again.” Her heart sang at his sweet words, a smile resting comfortably on her lips.
“Thank you” she whispers, reaching for the illusion of her dear friend when the door flies off it’s hinges into the stairs. It would appear that they’ve arrived and so abruptly. Valerie growls under her breath, trying to maintain her composure as the hero/villain enters “I’m relieved you decided to show your face, this will feel all the sweeter” her palms glowing a golden color as she stands in an offensive position
((Comment Alpha1 if you want to save her as a child and change her fate as a hero or comment Alpha2 if you want to be a villain that assists her as a child. If you wanted to fight older Valerie as a hero comment Beta1 or if you want to be a villain that recruits older Valerie comment Beta2))
Name: Valerie Amerai Bonna-Velt
Villain name; Aqua Regia
Age: 19 or 29
Ability: Matter Manipulation; the ability to change and mold the shape/state of matter for limited amounts of time (Overuse of this ability results in a loss of free will; becoming an obedient zombie)
Appearance; Valerie is a 5’2 tall girl who weighs one-hundred-twenty-five pounds, she has a large behind and C cup breasts with warm thick thighs that meet at a waist that appears to be smaller due to wide hips and broad shoulders. When she was 19 her hair was a raven black, but now it resembles a dark chocolate brown with a healthy shine that she’s most definitely proud of! Her eyes are slanted, narrow and a light honey colored with short lashes that thick around the outer corner of her eyes on the top and bottom. Her eyebrows are thick and well groomed, but sparse with a very high arch. (Very bottom-heavy frame!)
Blood type: O negative
Height; 5’2
Weight; 125 lbs.
Weaknesses; Valerie’s powers cannot break the law of conservation (matter cannot be created or destroyed. Therefore, there must be the same number of atoms of each element on each side of a chemical equation.) She is also unable to hold an object in a state foreign to its nature for longer than her time limit (Starts at 30 seconds and ends with 1 hour) The heart, lungs and hands are exposed in gaseous form. Her circulatory system slowly shuts down in solid form and she runs the risk of losing limbs if she over uses it, not to mention solid form is as fragile as ice. Finally, in liquid form she cannot reform herself and must wait for the time limit to pass (She doesn’t really use it)
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