#at least not primarily. maybe every now and then but it’s not a lifestyle for her. she doesn’t care because she can go out in an outfit that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamonest · 3 years

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Hi weird request but what would Kaeya’s and Diluc’s s/o’s daily life be like ??? I’m really curious 🥺👉👈

No no anon not weird at all I like 👀

Tw: yandere, contains n/s/f/w

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Unfortunately (for them, at least) they can't be with you all day, as much as they'd like to. Both have very important affairs to attend to, but rest assured you're occupying their thoughts the entire day. Diluc, thankfully (again, for him, at least) has some days where the only work he has to do is right there at home, moreso than Kaeya, but at least Kaeya gets some days off entirely.

Diluc's has more of a strict schedule. He's one to determine when you wake up and when you sleep, and he has to stay up a lot working on this or that, but even if he's staying up he'll make you go to bed on time, but a little while later you'll feel the shift of the mattress when he crawls in with you. He'll gently wake you up before he leaves in the morning, and give you just little things to accomplish. It's not immediate, but after you've adjusted to your new lifestyle, he'll give you little tasks around the place to do, cleaning things and the like. It'll take a while before you're trusted to cook things, at least those involving knives. Wouldn't want you to get any dumb ideas about attacking him or the staff.

Speaking of them, you'll never not feel eyes on you, outside of your room. Everywhere you go there's maids and other staff around, watching your every move, making note of anything you do so that they can give the detailed report they'll later be asked for. Don't expect any help -- some of them are sympathetic, but you'll quickly realize that not only are they all well aware of your situation, and not only are they all turning a blind eye to it, but they also are expected to report any instances of you trying to enlist their help. It gives Diluc an idea of how well you're adjusting. Of course, any new incoming staff will be secretly watched themselves -- any move to aid you in any way won't end well for them. In the end, hey, they all got a raise when you came in just as a way of keeping them silent, so they can tolerate the weight of the knowledge of your plight without doing anything. And you take care of some of the maids' tasks for them! Don't think they're gonna want to get rid of that.

Between assigned tasks and reading and, in his words, "approved walks with two or more staff through the vineyards for no more than ten minutes," you'll have enough to do until he gets back, which becomes earlier as time goes on. He's dropped his nighttime vigilante activities.

Now, on days when he has no one to meet and nowhere to be, and all the work to be done is right there at home, he'll keep you with him. Give you a book or a toy of some sort so you can sit in his lap while he does paperwork, keeping an iron grip on your waist. You can still do some little chores around the place after a while once you get fidgety, he likes watching it really. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around. On days like that, he tends to make everyone else clear out, or gives them the day off. He's too embarrassed to actually, you know, show human emotion around other people than you, and he gets irritated by other people talking to or looking at you. And, of course, because you'll inevitably end up bent over the desk a couple of times throughout the day.

At the end of the day, he's honestly one to really like physical affection. Just laying next to you and running hands through your hair is nice, he likes to spoon you with your back pressed against him and his hands around your waist, it feels very secure to him. Once he gets like that, he actually kind of lets go and sometimes just vents his stress and complaints, mumbling and grumbling about this or that thing that happened. It's actually really sweet, if, you know, you're at the phase of your relationship where you've allowed yourself to start becoming emotionally attached to your captor.

Kaeya's poor darling has a bit less to do. No huge pretty winery to run around in, you're more or less trapped in one room. Expect to read a lot of books in the near future. And he genuinely doesn't want you to die of boredom or anything, he will go out of his way to try and pick up things for you, not only books but also coloring books, puzzles, paper and drawing supplies, and other forms of time-occupiers. He doesn't want you going numb and unresponsive, he wants to keep your brain active so he can see all the cute smiles you have and hear your voice.

He won't wake you up, though, you're too cute sleeping, so if you're easily woken up by him moving around, he'll briefly talk to you, tell you when he'll be back and so on. If you're a heavier sleeper, he'll just kiss your forehead and leave, maybe leave a daily note on the bedside table if there's anything important to be addressed. And your day will primarily consist of those aforementioned time-occupiers, there's not much else to do. Although, he's now taken to taking meals back with him to his own room rather than eating with the other knights, and for whatever reason seems to be taking almost twice the amount. Not that anyone cares enough to check into it. Honestly, poor darling, ya boy is whiny and an absolute drama queen. He's never had an outlet for it before, but now you get to hear all his complaints, talking about the people that irritate him, all the things he has to deal with, he gets all stubborn and pouty about it, blatantly overexaggerating everything he suffers through, hoping you'll reassure and coddle him over it, even faking dangerous occurrences or near-injuries in hopes you'll show some concern for his well-being. And then, he'll put on his daily routine of telling you how much he doesn't want to go back, hey maybe he can take the rest of the day off? Feign sickness? And the other possibilities he always goes through before you finally tell him to suck it up and go back to work.

At the end of the day, he comes back and, ever dramatically, flops down to tell you just how awful the rest of the day was, grabbing you from whatever you're doing and nuzzling into you, picking you up to carry you to bed. He's also very into physical affection! Just. You know. A very specific kind. Unlike Diluc he can't really separate the concepts of cuddling and sex and they both inevitably mold into each other. If he's gonna lay there and hold you after a long day's work, might as well exert some of that pent up stress.

On his off days, well, there's a lot more of that occurring. He's actually one who, much to your dismay, likes to stay in on off days, opting to lazily lay around, talk and talk (it's something he does a lot of, you know), and all that talking and muttering and hands moving and groping eventually progresses, peaks, and soon you find yourselves back to lazily snuggling and talking, only now naked and sweaty. And that's pretty much the entirety of those days. However, on the extremely rare and very gracious day, provided you've been exceptionally well-behaved, you may find yourself allowed to go out on a daytime excursion. Just be warned, it's only at your begging, as he'd lock you away forever if he could, and he's in a pretty pouty, bad mood the entire time. There are two ways it can turn out. One, you notice said bad mood and inevitably it ruins your own time, and you end up conceding to go back. Or, if you can ignore the pouting and cold silence and have fun anyway, good for you, but the trip will probably end faster since he doesn't quite like seeing how happy you are to be out among others.

#lena's asks #yandere genshin impact

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greaterspawnislands · 3 years

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lead me into the light | emerald duo platonic soulmates

For all the years he has lived, Phil has lived without a soulmate, and as a result, without color. And he's perfectly fine with that.

Then he touches down on a battlefield for fun, and meets the eyes of a total stranger.

And as the world goes from monochromatic to full of color and more beauty than he had ever imagined, Phil knows that everything is going to change.

(But a mortal's life is only so short, after all.)

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My twitter account voted a series of polls to decide what fic I was gonna write, and they decided on an emerald duo platonic soulmates au fic that was angst with a happy ending ! Link will be in the notes, but here’s a bit of the start to get you into it!

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There are a few constants that Phil holds in his life, has always held, and will always hold.

The first, the most glaring, is the centuries that stretch far back in his past and the ones that he approaches in the present. It is the fact that he cannot die from old age or from hunger or from thirst, that it is only by injury that he could possibly be taken down for good.

The second is his lifestyle. Always a traveler, never with a permanent home. For fear of being targeted, or not wanting to cause that kind of disturbance, and because Phil truly desires to wander the world on his own terms, he travels. Visits every city and explores every nook and cranny of it as it changes over the months and years and decades. He visits fields where he spilled blood and watches others spill blood in that very spot a few years later. He carves out temporary places, favored nooks to fish in and well-loved corners of libraries or especially nice inns, but he never lingers around others who might question his unaging face.

And the third is the grayscale in which he sees the world, shades of black and white and everything in between, the only hues he’ll ever lay eyes upon.

(Soulmates are rare. They are not a common thing, they are often considered blessings by the gods to live your life devoid of color, the trials and tribulations to find your other half.)

(Phil has met quite a few gods, in his time of wandering. That’s just straight bullshit.)

He’s lived decades upon decades without a soulmate, and is perfectly content to keep living without one. Where others find agony in not being able to separate the color of the leaves in autumn, Phil has long since made his peace in seeking out the beauty of the world in other ways. The speckled patterns of a newborn fawn in spring. Waves darkening the shade of the sand upon an ocean. The way his lover’s hair seemed to melt into the endless night sky.

(Gods are exempt from the concept of soulmates, and Death had no answers for Phil when he asked her why he had been cursed to live like this, nor could she bring his sight into full color, even with all her otherworldly abilities.)

(“Maybe there is someone out there,” she said to him one night as he rested against her shoulder, looking up at the star-studded sky from where they sat within the earth. “And you just haven’t found them yet.”)

(“I don’t think I need to find anyone else, honestly,” he replied, turning to look at her. She was a thousand times more dazzling than any sky could behold on its own. “You’re all I need, I’m not letting this kind of stuff stop me from living my life any longer.”)

Their visits were infrequent, but time means nothing to a god and a human whose chances of death are slim as long as he keeps himself out of trouble.

Phil’s wings flare out as he touches down on a battlefield stained with darker shades of gray, determined to find go and find some trouble, if only because this past year has been incredibly boring otherwise.

“My name is Philza,” he introduces himself to the general of the army, hand raising in a salute that had definitely been appropriate last time he was on a battlefield, and he doesn’t really care much whether it still holds up. He takes his hat off as well, holding the striped material against his chest. “And I’m here to help, if you’ll have me.”

His reputation, that of the Angel of Death, precedes him. For all his intentions to keep away from sticking around civilians as they aged, wars and skirmishes would always be an exception.

It was a secret sort of thrill, to throw himself into the fray of a conflict he would hardly remember by the next one. To release the fearlity that he kept tightly wound up inside him, to splatter blood on a blade and sink arrow after arrow through the eyes of assailants. Nevertheless, the legends of his help follow him wherever he goes, and the look of relief on the general’s face says enough on that matter.

A night’s rest later, he’s led across the loosely set up encampment to one of the larger tents. As he walks, Phil tips his head up to gaze at the sky. There was no smooth texture, instead fuzzy clouds crowd the sky, and Phil tilts his head, noting the approaching rain.

Once inside the tent, the general nods at him, speaking before Phil can even courteously extend a greeting.

“We’re going to have you take command of the Red Snakes force, over here.” The general indicates to the map spread out on the table between them, pointing to a marker that Phil notices has a small symbol carved into it. It’s a small squiggle, barely noticeable, but it stands out against the other symbols carved into the various markers that Phil gathers to represent the different sub-forces that this general is commanding.

It’s helpful primarily, though no one knows of his own color-absence, he does appreciate the carved symbols. As an afterthought, it’s interesting. He wonders who else is color-absent this high up in the commanding forces. A rare thing, to be sure, not that he’ll bother to interact with them for that reason. He’s here to help spill some blood, not hear some poor sap moan about how they feel they’ll die on the battlefield before meeting their soulmate.

Phil’s eyes snap from the squiggly symbol back to the general’s words, tuning in mid-sentence. He’s definitely missed some information that was probably crucial, but he’ll get somebody else to relay it to him later. For now—

“Your co-commander already knows this, of course, but I figured I would inform you separately so you were up to date on our intel before you began discussing the best course of action.”

“Sorry, my who?” Phil blurts, brow furrowing, heart sinking a little.

“You’ll be co-leading this group, at least for now.”

Phil lightly bites the inside of his cheek to keep his face schooled appropriately. He knows what this is. It’s a nicely phrased term to cover up the fact that he’s being babysat because they don’t trust him with their armies, so they’ve appointed another commander to watch over him.

On one hand, it’s fucking annoying to be watched like that. On the other hand, that does mean Phil can totally push all the actual commanding duties off to the other guy while he buggers off to do what he pleases. Maybe this won’t be too bad after all, honestly, it depends whether he gets some kind of suck up as a co-commander or not.

“Commander Technoblade has shown great leadership prowess in recent skirmishes, so it was determined that he could take up control of a new force until your support and guidance,” the general continues, and Phil’s heart sinks further.

Oh, gods, they think he’s some kind of trainer, some kind of mentor to a kid who’s been handed too much responsibility for his age and will die in a week. Not this shit again. “Sounds great,” he lies through his teeth. “When do I meet him?”

There’s a soft knocking against the flap of the tent, and the general lifts a hand. “That’ll be him. You can come in, Technoblade.”

“Yes sir,” a deep voice intones. There a shuffling of fabric just as Phil turns to greet whoever this guy is, and—

And his vision explodes with—

Everything is so bright, even brighter than the white gleam of the sun in his eyes. Phil blinks furiously as what he’s certain is color blooms across his vision, spreading outward until there’s nowhere he can look to escape from the blinding, unfamiliar hues. Gone is the subtle change of shade between the grass at his feet and the canvas walls of the tent. They’re two entirely different colors now, unrecognizable in this state.

#technoblade #philza #emerald duo #dream smp #technoblade fanfic #philza fanfiction #emerald duo fanfiction #antarctic empire #hhh.writing #my writing

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eightyonekilograms · 3 years

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Someone on the Discord brought up fertility

Just like last time I'm lazy and just going to dump it instead of editing.

[5:10 PM] Me: Oh boy, I have thoughts about this

[5:12 PM] Me: I haven't brought it up here but demographics has been one of my covid obsessions. I got a couple books about it (What to Expect When No One's Expecting, One Billion Americans, etc.), read all the articles, etc.

[5:15 PM] Me: I agree with you about a couple things: namely that if we had "infinite free energy" we'd be a a lot better off in many ways including demographically, but I disagree with most of your other points.

[5:18 PM] Me:

Also we need not assume decline in population growth is chronic.

This is a tricky statement because there's a social aspect and a mathematical aspect. Socially you're correct in the sense that whatever trends are driving the current decline could, in theory, reverse at any time. But mathematically, population decline is exactly symmetrical to population growth: it's exponential (technically it's logistic, but that's the same as exponential in the short term), because having fewer people means fewer people to make more people later on.

[5:20 PM] Me:

Infact there is some evidence to suggest that we actually did more science when we had 4-6 billion people.

I disagree with the implication here: we used to do more science because there was more low-hanging fruit, which is now plucked, and further discoveries require more resources (human and financial). Actually one of the big reasons I disagree with Ray Kurzweil and the other singularitarians is that when they show these impressive-looking exponential curves about scientific progress, they quietly hide under the rug that these increases are requiring ever-more investment (again, in both people and money) to accomplish. Just to pick a random example, every time chip manufacturers go to a new process (14nm -> 10nm -> 7nm -> 5nm -> 2nm etc.), the cost to build the fab basically doubles. I remember a couple years back Intel had to spend $5 billion to hit a new process shrink; now TSMC needs to spend $28 billion to hit their next target: https://www.wsj.com/articles/tsmc-to-spend-up-to-record-28-billion-in-advanced-chips-capacity-11610623587)

[5:23 PM] Me: I will try to find it but I came across a paper a little while ago laying out in detail that the cost of new scientific discoveries has been steadily increasing over time. It's not that there's anything necessarily going wrong with the scientific process, this is just what you'd expect as we pick low-hanging fruit: the later discoveries necessarily become harder. But if you extrapolate that trend out forever you eventually hit a point where every single person needs to be a scientist, and every dime of capital in existence, needs to be used to make any new discoveries.

[5:26 PM] Me: (In most fields we're a long way from that point, but it actually is here or nearly here in e.g. particle physics. What I have been hearing from leading-edge particle physicists is that we've got maybe one or two more generations of particle accelerators left before we reach a point where, to probe any further (e.g. to see if string theory is true), we'd need to build accelerators the size of the Solar System, which would take more raw material than the mass of the Earth. Barring some new theoretical breakthroughs, we might actually nearing the "end" of high-energy physics.)

[5:30 PM] Me: Fortunately most fields aren't at that point, but my point is that the more we discover, the more human capital is required to make further progress. That's a tricky enough proposition with a growing population, never mind a shrinking one.

[5:36 PM] Me:

I don't think it is safe to assume lowering population growth is a biological disorder so much as a conscious choice most people in the younger generations are making for a variety of obvious reasons.

I agree with this, but it's important to dig into that a little and understand the reasons. For example, I'm not yet convinced that there is a mass epidemic of people choosing childlessness because of anxiety about e.g. climate change. In internet comments sections you certainly see lots of people making that claim, but talk is cheap and randos on the internet can say whatever they want. In terms of the actual reasons, the data I've seen shows that number of children continues to track closely with a couple data points, mostly housing costs, expected lifetime income and uncertainly about future income flow.

[5:40 PM] Me: Third, I think you should give more weight to the concerns Rhys brought up than you currently are. The environmental stresses of more people is certainly a big issue, but I think it's one that can be dealt with without too much struggle with increased deployment of clean energy (one of the few optimistic data points lately is that there's a staggering amount of wind and solar power being deployed every year) and a couple of lifestyle changes like eating less meat. Not to say these are easy, but contrast with the pretty serious problems of population decline, particularly the social safety net.

[5:41 PM] Me: And I don't just mean the explicit ones like Social Security, but even market-based, privatized ones like retirement savings have a hidden reliance on a growing population.

[5:42 PM] Me: When you "save for retirement", you're not stockpiling food and water to live off when you no longer work, you're collecting financial assets that you expect to sell to someone else and live off that income. But if there's no one to sell to, that doesn't work.

[5:44 PM] Me: This is a problem that's starting to show up at the top end of the income stack: see this WSJ article about retirees who can't find anyone to buy their $3 million homes: https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-growing-problem-in-real-estate-too-many-too-big-houses-11553181782. It's easy to have schadenfreude here at those poor rich people who can't unload their huge mansion, but remember that this is inherently a problem which will start at the top of the income brackets and gradually make its way downward.

[5:46 PM] Me: You can push this problem back for a while by increasing taxes on the rich, and I do indeed think those should go up, but in a declining population that only buys you a little time. Remember that "money" is nothing but a claim on some fraction of total economic output. e.g. when you hold a dollar bill, you're essentially holding a note entitling you to one-zillionth of American GDP.

[5:47 PM] Me: At a certain point once population falls then total aggregate output necessarily falls too, and at that point taxing the rich hits rapidly diminishing returns: you're just claiming a bigger share of falling output

[5:49 PM] Me: One thing to keep in mind here is that most economies, but especially the U.S. economy, are primarily driven by consumer spending, i.e. normal people just buying and selling stuff to each other.

[5:50 PM] Me: This is why e.g. mass immigration isn't as huge a deal as a bunch of nativists like to think: immigrants get jobs, but they also spend money on goods and services just like anyone else: they generate labor demand as well as taking up supply

[5:51 PM] Me: But what I'm driving at here is that, again, a consumer-spending-driven economy with a falling population is going to get poorer pretty much by definition: fewer people buying stuff means fewer jobs to produce that stuff.

[5:54 PM] Me: Or to put another way, to use a ridiculously simplified model, GDP = Population X Productivity, and so if you take the derivative, then GDP' ~ Population' + Productivity'. So in a falling population environment, you need a lot of heavy lifting in terms of forever-increasing productivity in order for economic growth to be positive. And while there might be improvements down the pipe, frankly we kind of seem tapped out on productivity growth already

[5:55 PM] Me: Now, one possible response here is that we should work out how to have an economic system which delivers prosperity without endless growth, and I do agree we need that. But just saying that doesn't fix the problem that right now we don't have it and people will be poorer in a world without growth.

[5:56 PM] Me: And in such a world, I think it actually becomes harder to successfully transition to whatever post-scarcity economy can fix the problem, because people will be caught up in fighting over a shrinking pie.

[5:58 PM] Me: The neoliberal capitalist mindset of "a rising tide lifts all boats" isn't totally true and has been used to justify all kinds of nasty plutocratic behavior, but it isn't entirely false either. Without growth, at least in the system we have now, wealth distribution inherently becomes a zero-sum game. And that could get really ugly.

[5:59 PM] Me: So, that's most of what I have to say about why a falling population would be bad. But that's the easy part. Where this gets really complicated is why it's happening and what to do about it

[6:00 PM] Me: Now, I think one of the reasons I've been so fascinated by this is that it's been a pessimistic year, and falling birth rates are kind of the perfect pessimistic problem because I don't really see an easy way out. Also I'm just annoyed by partisans in general, and this is a perfect problem for that because it sort of frustrates partisans on all sides.

[6:02 PM] Me: e.g. the left mainly talks about the economic causes and proposes a variety of policy solutions, but an ugly little secret here is that government policy to increase birth rates has basically a perfect, unbroken track record of total failure

[6:03 PM] Me: All kinds of countries (mostly in Europe, but also in East Asia) have implemented all kinds of pro-natalist policies, and for the most part they have accomplished pretty much nothing. (Amusingly, this even goes back to antiquity: in the first couple centuries AD Roman Emperors were also concerned with falling birth rates, and implemented a variety of reforms that didn't do anything)

[6:03 PM] Me: You could always say they didn't go far enough, but at some point you're making an unfalsifiable hypothesis

[6:06 PM] Me: Meanwhile on the right, they're constantly talking about cultural factors, but this runs into two problems: it's again a set of mostly unfalsifiable hypotheses, but even worse since they're all tangled up in the Right's usual rants about The Way Things Ought to Be, but even if they turned out to be true, it seems like a hopeless cause because we basically have no levers to change culture.

[6:07 PM] Me: "Why does culture develop in the direction it does" is one of those huge questions I'm not sure we'll ever have a complete answer for, but I think it has to mostly involve technological determinism.

[6:08 PM] Me: https://www.sciphijournal.org/index.php/2017/11/12/why-the-culture-wins-an-appreciation-of-iain-m-banks/ <-- this is a great article explaining what I'm talking about, as well as explaining why you should read Iain Banks

[6:09 PM] Me: But my point here is that all the cultural changes the Right laments as causing people to have fewer children, assuming they're even correct which I am definitely not granting, are pretty much all products of industrialization. You can't roll them back without undoing the Industrial Revolution. At least not without an insane level of authoritarianism

[6:10 PM] Me: So on the policy side we have a bunch of levers which don't do anything, and on the culture side there are no levers at all.

#meanwhile on the discord

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jiseulws · 3 years

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what’s shakin’? 👋🏽 hi, i’m lune ( he & him ) and i’m really excited to be here !!! seriously, i’m really looking forward to getting to know all of you and your beautiful muses. ♡♡ that being said, i’m thrilled to introduce you to my first muse in the group— 𝒃𝒚𝒖𝒏 𝒋𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒍. you know, the one who’s fancam went viral during the ❝ you’re pitiful ❞ era! you may also know her as one of the reigning cf and brand endorsement queens. she’s ladybug’s maknae, lead dancer and sub vocalist, and a muse that i’ve grown to adore creating over the last few weeks! so, without further ado, you’ll find a little tl;dr description of her backstory, a few links to all of her important pages, and a few plot ideas ( while i work on a proper plot page for her ) underneath the cut. if you’re interested in plotting, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 and i’ll reach out to you as soon as possible!

LINKS—

FREEFORM

DOSSIER

CAREER

TL;DR—

SHE WAS BORN AND RAISED IN JEJU-DO, SOUTH KOREA. HER MOTHER AND FATHER WORKED AS LIVE-IN STAFF FOR A FAMOUS, EXTREMELY WEALTHY COUPLE IN THEIR VACATION HOME. JISEUL GOT TO PRETEND SHE LIVED THIS LAVISH LIFESTYLE, BUT SHE FAILED TO REALIZE THAT THE HOUSE, ALL THE FURNITURE, THE CARS—NONE OF THEM BELONGED TO HER FAMILY. IN A SENSE, SHE FELT AS THOUGH SHE WAS LIVING SOME SORT OF DOUBLE LIFE. /// AS A TEENAGER, SHE GOT CAUGHT WITH THE HOME OWNER’S SON IN A PROVOCATIVE SITUATION. APPARENTLY, THEIR STAR-CROSSED RELATIONSHIP WAS BANNED IN THE CONTRACT HER PARENTS SIGNED. THAT MEANT THEY HAD TO MOVE OUT AND BACK TO THE CAPITAL CITY WHERE IT WAS A LITTLE MORE AFFORDABLE. SHE WORKED AS A WAITRESS UNTIL SHE WAS SCOUTED BY YUSEONG ENTERTAINMENT. /// SHE TRAINED FOR A VERY SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME—NINE MONTHS, TO BE EXACT. JISEUL HAD NEVER DANCED OR PERFORMED BEFORE, BUT SHE FOUND A NEW LOVE FOR IT ONCE SHE ADJUSTED PROPERLY. SHE FOUND IT IRRITATING THAT SHE WAS SOLELY PUSHED FOR VISUAL APPEAL ABOVE ALL ELSE, BUT SHE SIGNED A CONTRACT AND COULDN’T FIGHT TO MAKE A CHANGE. AT LEAST NOT YET. /// HER VISUALS CONTINUE TO BE PRAISED, AND LITTLE BY LITTLE, SHE FEELS AS THOUGH SHE’S ONLY A FACE AND A BODY—NOT A LIVING, BREATHING HUMAN BEING. HER CAREER HAS BEEN MOLDED BY HER APPEARANCE AND IT’S CREATED A LOT OF DISCOMFORT FOR HER. SHE’S BEEN ABLE TO KEEP HER HEAD ABOVE WATER FOR NOW, BUT SHE’S BEGINNING TO DROWN A LITTLE MORE AS TIME GOES BY.

PSYCHE—

MORE INFORMATION FOR THIS CAN BE FOUND ON HER DOSSIER PAGE, BUT SHE’S ESSENTIALLY A WOMAN WHO IS AN EXPERT AT LIGHTING UP A ROOM; CAPTIVATING AN AUDIENCE; MAKING YOU FEEL SPECIAL; BREATHING A FLIRTATIOUS ENERGY NO MATTER WHERE SHE IS; BUT DEEP DOWN, SHE’S EXTREMELY CRITICAL OF HERSELF. AFTER EVERY APPEARANCE ON TV, LIVE STAGE, MODELING CAMPAIGN, ETC. SHE’S KNOWN TO PICK HERSELF APART. THERE’S AN INSECURITY THAT LIES BENEATH THE FEIGNED CONFIDENCE, ONE THAT SHE KEEPS LOCKED UP TIGHT AND ONLY LETS OUT WHEN SHE’S ALONE. THIS MAKES HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHER PEOPLE DIFFICULT TO MAINTAIN. WHEN SHE STARTS TO FEEL REALLY CLOSE TO SOMEONE, SHE’S AFRAID OF LETTING HER MASK FALL AND SHOWING THEM HER TRUEST SELF, SO SHE PUTS A LITTLE DISTANCE THERE—NEVER WANTING ANYONE TO CATCH HER ON AN OFF DAY. IT’S EXHAUSTING, LIKE, SHE’S EXHAUSTED ALL THE TIME BECAUSE OF IT. SHE MAY HAVE A FEW PEOPLE THAT TRULY KNOW HER, BUT FOR THE MOST PART, SHE’S A BIT OF AN ENIGMA, AND SHE PREFERS IT THAT WAY.

INSPO—

TRUTH BE TOLD, I WAS REALLY INSPIRED BY THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HOLLYWOOD’S BELOVED STARLETS FROM THE GOLDEN AGE—PRIMARILY MS. MARILYN MONROE. I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH HER, HER LIFE, AND HER TALENT SINCE I WAS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL, BUT IT’S ALWAYS BEEN DAUNTING TO THINK OF TRYING TO CAPTURE HER ESSENCE IN A MUSE OF MINE. NOW, I’VE DECIDED TO GIVE IT A GO. ADDITIONALLY, I PULLED A LOT OF INSPIRATION FROM KOREAN CELEBRITIES SUCH AS BAE SUJI, IM YOONA, LEE HYERI, AND KIM SEOLHYUN FOR HER BODY OF WORK.

PLOTS—

HERE ARE SOME BRIEF JUMPING OFF POINTS FOR PLOTS THAT I HAVE. I’LL MAKE A FORMAL ANNOUNCEMENT WHEN I’VE COMPLETED HER PLOTS PAGE.

01. A NEWER GENERATION IDOL WHO HAS CLAIMED HER AS THEIR IDEAL TYPE TO THE PUBLIC. THIS HAS CAUGHT HER ATTENTION, SO SHE REACHES OUT FOR FUN.

02. AN INDIVIDUAL WHO MAYBE CAUGHT HER CRYING IN HER DRESSING ROOM AT SOME POINT. SHE FREAKED OUT AND TRIED TO PLAY IT OFF AS IF SHE SIMPLY JUST MISSED HER FAMILY, BUT IT’S CLEAR THERE WAS SOMETHING DEEPER INVOLVED.

03. A YOUNGER FEMALE IDOL ( PREFERABLY A VISUAL, BUT OPEN TO ANY OTHER ROLES, AS WELL ) THAT SHE SEES A LOT OF HERSELF IN, SO SHE’S SORT OF TAKEN THEM UNDER HER WING. TOTAL BIG SISTER / LITTLE SISTER VIBES, LOTS OF LOVE.

04. AN OLDER GENERATION IDOL WHO SHE HAS A COMPLICATED DATING PAST WITH—CAN BE MALE, FEMALE, OR OTHERWISE. SHE’S DATED MEN AND WOMEN, BUT HAS A PREFERENCE FOR MEN. ALL OF THEIR HISTORY TOGETHER IS UP FOR DISCUSSION.

05. A STAFF MEMBER THAT SHE HAS A REALLY, REALLY CLOSE FRIENDSHIP WITH BEHIND THE SCENES. THEY WOULD BE CONFIDANTS AND THE STAFF MEMBER IS A PERSON THAT SHE FEELS REALLY COMFORTABLE WITH. BEST FRIEND ENERGY.

06. ANOTHER IDOL SHE MEETS TO DANCE WITH. COULD ALSO BE A WORKOUT PAL WHO SHE POLE DANCES WITH FROM TIME-TO-TIME, TOO. GENDER DOESN’T MATTER.

07. SOMEONE WHO SEES THROUGH HER FAKE SMILES AND HAS ALWAYS WANTED TO CALL HER OUT ON IT, BUT HAS NEVER SAID ANYTHING. IT’S NOT THAT THEY HATE HER, THEY JUST KNOW SHE’S A PHONY AND IT’S STARTING TO BOTHER THEM.

08. INFIDELITY TW / AN EX OF HER’S THAT SHE CHEATED ON WITH ANOTHER IDOL. WHILE SHE’S A ROMANTIC AT HEART, SHE CAN’T HELP BUT FLIRT WITH EVERYONE—AND SOMETIMES GET A LITTLE TOO INVOLVED WHEN SHE REALLY SHOULDN’T.

09. INFIDELITY TW / THE IDOL THAT SHE CHEATED ON HER EX WITH. THEY EITHER COULD’VE KNOWN ABOUT HER RELATIONSHIP AND CHOSE TO IGNORE IT, OR THEY COULD’VE BEEN COMPLETELY BLINDSIDED, AS WELL. TOTALLY YOUR CALL. THIS COULD ALSO BE BLENDED WITH PLOT POINT 04 FOR AN ADDED LAYER OF DRAMA.

10. AN ALL-OUT ENEMY THAT SHE DESPISES MORE THAN ANYTHING—WHO MORE THAN LIKELY FEELS MUTUAL—BUT TO THE PUBLIC, THEY’RE MADE OFF TO BE BEST FRIENDS. SHE KEEPS HER DISDAIN QUIET, BUT IT’S CLEAR THERE’S DISTASTE THERE.

#﹙ 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / introduction. ﹚#ws:intro #so happy to be here!#i'm sorry that i'm late to the party! :///#can't wait to meet you. ♡

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hoochieforcalum · 4 years

Text

Above the City | c.t.h.

this sounds random but can you do a ceo!Cal and you’re his assistant (plus sized) & he finds out maybe you’re a Virgin bc of a convo they guys you spark up (even though you’re shy) and steamy shirt starts happening in his office 🥵

so, this was originally supposed to be apart of my plus size blurb weekend, but I loved this concept so much that I decided to make an entire OC fic based off of it -aliencal

ceo!calum x oc elle (she is plus sized!)

warnings: smut,,maybe some angst,,typos for sure

word count: 6k+

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“It’s going to be another long day Liz.” Elle sighed into her phone as she turned the corner. Her heels clicked against the concrete sidewalk as she strutted her way to the coffee shop. She could feel the cotton material of her plaid pencil skirt flapping against her knee, causing her to grow slightly irritated at the feeling. She knew that the skirt hardly fit her thick size, but considering she hadn’t the time to do her laundry this week, the skirt was the only thing she could find that made her look remotely business-like.

She heard Liz sigh over the phone, “Again? This guy has got you working all hours. Doesn’t he let you sleep?” Elle could feel a smile taking over her lips as she yanked open the door to the coffee shop. The sound of fresh coffee beans grinding together in the machine was echoing throughout the small, hole-in-the-wall shop, blocking out the indie music that was playing softly over the stereo for a small moment before silencing. Elle’s eyes quickly did a scan over of the shop, surveying the lack of customers and quickly coming to the conclusion that the shop was in it’s post-afternoon rush phase. Her analysis was only proven right when she saw the way the barista, who looked to be in high school or a freshman in college, lazily threw the dirty rag into the sink with a heavy sigh.

“Besides the weekend and my breaks, no. But you have to cut him some slack Liz. Christian groups are not letting up.” Elle said as she approached the counter where a young man stood waiting with a pen in his hand. She pulled the phone away from her ear, easily telling the boy the two usual's before lifting the phone back up. She could hear Liz groan.

“And? Why does he need you to help him sort out their hate letters?”

“It’s not just hate letters,” Elle said, throwing a five dollar bill into the jar as a tip before grabbing the cup of large black coffee and walking over to where they had the condiments laid out. She grabbed a french vanilla cream cup and began to add in the mixture. “There is also something going on at one of the branch facilities out East. And I’m his personal assistant Liz. I kind of have to help him with whatever he needs help with, so matter what I think or feel.”

“I know that miss attitude, but sleepless nights for paperwork? Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t join the corporate world.”

A cross between a scoff and a laugh left Elle’s throat, “Well not everyone decides to enter marine biology,” Elle noticed the same male placing the lid on her drink. “Hey, I gotta go okay? Save me something.” Elle quickly pressed the bright red button before grabbing the paper cup from the barista with a soft smile used as a silent thank you. She watched the guy - who looked to be roughly as old as an undergrad - give her a quick wink before wishing her a good day, but not without adding in a very uncomfortable gaze of her body. Elle felt her insides swarm with unease as she walked out the door, knowing fully well that the guy was staring at her backside as she walked. She gave herself a moment before shrugging off the feeling and walking back to her company.

Well, it wasn’t her company per say, but after being behind the scenes for roughly five months now, she felt like it was. But then again, that was the perk of being an intern to Calum Hood.

And Elle technically went above an intern. She was his personal assistant, which meant that she was with him everyday from 8AM to 11PM or until he would dismiss her. Calum was the CEO of Koa Healthcare Clinics, a moderately sized healthcare company that primarily focused on women’s health and reproductive rights, as well as regular treatments and screening for common colds or any other type of infection, virus, or health imperfection. Elle had been keen on getting into the medical world since she was a young girl, and once she heard that there was an opening with a man who had connections to every major hospital all across the United States, she jumped at the opportunity to become his personal assistant. She nearly cried when she found out she was selected, and from that night until the day Elle started as the personal assistant to Calum Hood, she dreamed of the job being filled with meeting top healthcare progressives and interesting new technologies that would advance the system or even see some new laws that he was trying to lobby for.

Instead, Elle got coffee runs, sore feet from walking back and forth between his office, the supply room, and the coffee shop; late nights with take-out and pure silence as she sorted through paperwork for new patients and whatnot while he did his thing; angry men in meetings who talked nothing of healthcare, but rather extension of new clinics; ink on her hands when the printer went askew; cold morning coffee which meant she’d have to brew a new pot; calls from Calum’s partners and meeting setups; setting up appointments for Calum that included dental and dinner plans; misogynistic and sexist coworkers that brag about their achievements in bed during every break and what “slut” they took out the night before; and hate from conservatives and Christian organizations claiming that she’d go to hell for even being associated with a company like Koa Healthcare Clinics.

She got the opposite of what she had dreamed of. Yet, the position paid well, and Elle was in her second year of medical school and needed the money to pay for her education. Alongside, Calum Hood was not the worst person to look at - or be near for that fact.

Elle would describe him as easy on the eyes. The man had a jaw structure that was unmatched, puffy cheeks that only accented and compliment his jaw structure, deep brown eyes that held more color to them when they were lit up in the sun, dark brown hair that softly curled upwards, tattoos on his hands and his left arm that were only shown when his sleeves were rolled up, big, plump lips that looked so soft, and a fit body type that nearly made all the female employees swoon - even Elle, but she wasn’t going to make it known to him. And yet, even though Elle had been, at first, thrown by how good-looking he was, she was even more thrown at the fact that Calum had never taken any of his anger out on her.

He never made Elle do anything in spite of his anger from his daily duties as a CEO, and he never screamed at her when he was upset or frustrated. Instead, his voice was always soft when he spoke to her. He always thanked her for everything she did, paid for every coffee and every take-out meal, made sure that his driver got her home safe before he went home, and always addressed her with respect and never looked down on her. And it shocked her.

She could hear Calum’s angry voice as she stepped into his large office. As per usual with any modernized, big corporate office, he had an entire glass wall that looked out over the city of Los Angeles - she could even see the Santa Monica Pier when it was lit up. His desk was a dark mahogany shade, making his space grey accents stand out. His laptop was open and she saw the way he was angrily staring at his screen as the person on the other end was talking. She quietly set the cup of black coffee down on his desk, but even he caught the movement of her arm and she watched as his eyes quickly snapped up and met hers. He mouthed her a quick appreciative ‘thank you’ before looking back to his screen and paying full attention to the heated conversation that he was having with whoever. Elle turned on her heels and walked over to the plush couch that was the same mahogany color as his desk. The stack of papers regarding new patients was still there from earlier before she had to run to the coffee shop. She let out a soft sigh under her breath and started to sort through them again. Koa Healthcare Clinics was always receiving new patients every day due to how in-expensive the treatment and plans are, but judging by this stack of paperwork, and the way Calum let out an aggravated sigh as he hung up the phone and the sound of the printer started, Elle knew she was going to be here until midnight - at least.

But that’s what typically happened anyways. So at this point, Elle was used to going home late and waking up early the next day to repeat the same cycle.

By the time Elle heard her phone buzz, she noticed that it was nearing 11 p.m., and she promptly set down the paperwork and picked up her phone. She noticed that Liz had texted her, informing Elle that Noah was staying the night and telling her that her leftovers were on a plate in the kitchen, and as Elle picked up her phone to respond, she heard Calum clear his throat.

She felt her insides freeze at how dominant the sound was, and she quickly typed a response.

“Sorry,” Elle mumbled, “It’s just uh, my roommate.” She instantly set her phone back down, and it was then that she registered the feeling of Calum’s stare seeping into her skin. She shifted in her seat and began to flip through the pages of clinic income-reports, quickly removing the cap of the yellow highlighter to figure out which clinic had poor income, but even she knew how shaky her hand was.

And Calum noticed it too.

He had spent the past five months trying to figure Elle out. She was unlike his past personal assistants. The majority of them were always talkative, and were trying to pry into Calum’s lifestyle too much because they were not okay with just sitting in silence during late night hours at the office, and Calum always knew that a majority of the personal assistants that he’s had always tried to get into his pants or at least felt some attraction toward him.

But Elle? Elle straight up confused him.

She rarely said more than a full sentence to him. And that sentence only pertained to the work that they were both doing. Sometimes she’d ask him a question if she noticed how stressed out or upset he was, and sometimes she’d comment on how hateful some people can be in their letters, but Calum would immediately notice how shy she’d be afterwards. He’d notice the way she’d curl back into herself as if to try and pretend that it didn’t happen or that she wasn’t even there in the room. It dawned on Calum that he truly knew nothing about Elle besides her work ethic, and for some reason, deep down inside of him: it bothered him.

Calum would usually know the basics about his personal assistants beyond what their resumes would say. He’d know their favorite color, music, food, coffee - but that one was always a must as he was always drinking it and insisted that his assistants get something for themselves - and other basics like city or dream place. But when it came to Elle, Calum only knew what kind of coffee she liked.

It also bothered Calum because of how much he had taken a liking to Elle due to her nature; almost too much of a liking which only scared yet intrigued him. He had to secretly admit that she was much more beautiful than any other woman that he had laid eyes on. Her hips were the fullest figure that nearly made Calum’s mouth water when he saw her for the first time. Her stomach was round and full but it never bothered her in the way that it would most people. She wasn’t shy about wearing pencil skirts that hugged her figure or shy of her fat rolls whenever she sat - at least not from Calum’s perspective. Her eyes were a dazzling green color that reminded Calum of rolling green hills or of healthy spring green foliage. Her eyelashes were long, so long that she hardly needed to wear mascara so Calum was always so confused as to why she did. Her cheeks were dusted with freckles that were lighter than her dark brown hair, and everytime she smiled, Calum felt his heart speed up at the sight of her dimples. Her lips were almost as puffy as Calum’s own, and he became scared of himself when he spent an entire hour daydreaming of wanting to kiss her.

And he’s been harboring his feelings for three months out of the five that Elle has been here.

It baffled Calum - to say the least. Elle was someone he wanted to know, and he wanted to figure out if she liked him as much as he liked her, because even Calum could see the way her cheeks would become red with blush whenever Calum stood too close to her or the way she would blush whenever she said more than that sentence to him.

“You can take it if you need too.” Calum said softly, watching Elle’s eyebrows furrow at his words as she continued to highlight various clinics - ones that Calum would eventually have to phone and scream at the supervisor for.

“No,” Elle dismissed quickly and flipped the page. “It wasn’t anything important.”

Calum observed her for a moment. Her hair was pulled back into a twisted bun due to the large, black claw hair clip that held it up, and her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as she continued to do her work. But even Calum could see the blush on her cheeks. He wondered why she never complained about the late night shifts or how much paperwork he threw at her. His past assistants always did to some extent, but not Elle.

“You know,” Calum started, pushing himself out of his chair. “If you ever need to take a break or step out to take care of things with your roommate, you can.” He watched as Elle let out a soft sigh and shook her head.

“Really, it’s fine.” Elle excused, giving Calum a soft smile before looking back down at the paperwork in her lap.

“I’m serious though,” He sat beside Elle on the couch, causing her to immediately freeze up due to his closeness. “I work you way too much. It’s okay to take a break you know.”

Elle was thrown by his sudden, small-talk nature. She easily slid the cap back onto the highlighter before setting it down on her lap.

“Taking breaks doesn’t get the job done.” Elle said softly, swallowing the hard lump in her throat as she turned to look at Calum. She watched as his lips parted softly, a quick intake of breath following shortly after.

“But, constantly working may mean that the work,” Calum said, his voice faltering as he reached his hand forward to take the stapled packet off of Elle’s lap. He watched as her cheeks flared up in a soft blush while he felt his hand brush against her thigh, the material of the pencil skirt separating his skin from hers. “Is not the best work.”

The packet of clinic incomes was gently placed on the coffee table by Calum’s hand. Elle watched him, her own confusion setting into her bones as she tried to figure out what he was doing. He wasn’t usually like this.

“But, doesn’t sitting here talking also take away time to get work done? With all do respect Mr. Hood, why are you over here?”

Calum tried to stifle his laughter at the adorable, yet confused look on her face, “First of all, it’s Calum. And second, I just think you need a break. Come on,” he said and repositioned himself so that his body was facing Elle. “What is your roommate like?”

Elle shrugged at her boss and pursed her lips together as she tried to think of an answer, “She’s like any other roommate.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“She’s loud.”

“And?”

“Bold.”

“And?”

“Pays half the rent.”

“And?”

Elle could feel her frustrations starting to light her skin ablaze, “And she’s going into marine biology because she hates the corporate world. Mr. Hood, this is pointless. Why are you really over here?”

“Is it such a bad thing to want to get to know you?” Calum asked, but even after Elle had just snapped at him, Calum was still able to keep his voice calm and tender. She hadn’t upset him at all; she never does.

Elle scoffed, “No, but we both have work to do.”

“Meaning what?” Calum pushed. He could see how under her skin he was getting, and while that had not been his original intention, he was finding it extra adorable that her cheeks were getting redder due to the blush that kept appearing.

Elle sighed once more, “It’s late, and I am tired. Can you please just let me finish these assignments? Plus you never have wanted to get to know me so why start now?” The two of them stared at each other for what felt like minutes. Calum could feel himself growing enchanted by the way her green eyes never left his brown ones. Her cheeks, tinted with blush as always, looked so soft from the lighting that his office provided. He decided to take his chance, and he slowly reached out his hand to caress her mildly-warm cheek. His thumb dusted over the freckles that resided there before he spoke.

“Because I’m enchanted with you.” His words were a whisper that got lost in the air between them as Elle took them in. She felt her stomach drop, her heart speed up, and all she could do about it was focus on the way that Calum’s thumb ran gently over her bottom lip, his eyes following his own movements as she was trying to register what was happening. Enchanted with her? Impossible. Elle was always the last pick for every male she came across - maybe besides Noah - and no one had ever shown her much interest due to her body shape. She used to hate it, but after realizing that she didn’t need a man to make her happy, Elle eventually let it go. But hearing someone say that they were, at the very least, enchanted with her made her insides grow soft and her heart skip a beat. Although she was able to understand that there is more to her than looks, it was still nice to hear that someone had actually liked her. Maybe it’s a low moment for her for thinking like that, but Elle wasn’t going to dwell on it for too long.

Especially when she felt Calum’s soft lips press against hers.

His pressure was gentle but firm as he moved his lips against hers, deepening the kiss and swiping his tongue against her bottom lip. Elle could feel her body shock back to life as her brain registered who was kissing her. She instantly pulled away from him, the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears as she stared at him. Her lips craved his again and even though she knew it was wrong, she wanted to kiss him again, and she could even feel the tiniest bit of ache pooling in her body as she quickly thought about his lips kissing her skin.

“I’m sorry,” Calum said quietly, his hand still on her cheek. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Elle let out a sigh and took her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to sort out her thoughts. On one hand, this was her boss and this would be completely unprofessional. But on the other, she felt something during the brief kiss that woke her up and made her want more of him and to be with him. She casted her eyes downward toward his lap, wanting to desperately crawl onto it and just kiss him, but she stopped herself when her mind instantly reminded her of her weight.

“Elle?” Her eyes snapped up again to meet Calum’s brown ones that noticeably seemed darker, and when she saw how puffy the quick kiss made his lips, she sighed once more and smiled.

To hell with her weight, and to hell with him being her boss.

Her lips crashed onto Calum’s as she quickly crawled into his lap, letting out soft giggles as she kissed him. Calum felt his heart swoon at the sound of her laughter, but quickly could feel heat rush to his tip when he felt her thick thighs around his body; the way that her soft lips were kissing him with such passion sent him into a frenzy.

God, the amount of times he’s dreamed of having her on top of him.

He became more aggressive with his kisses as she started to get playful - nipping at his bottom lip and laughing when their teeth clashed together - and Calum decided to take measures into his own hands. He slid his hands down her curvaceous and plump body in a sensual way that made Elle moan. Without a second thought and without hesitation, Calum squeezed her backside and slid his tongue into her mouth when she gasped at the feeling. They both fought each other for dominance before Calum finally had enough, pulling away and scooping Elle up into his arms.

“What happened to “we have a lot of work” hm?” He teased as he carried Elle over to his desk, his hands on her backside as she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold herself up.

“You are my work.” Elle replied with a smile.

Calum groaned and removed one of his hands to push the stack of papers off his desk. He gently sat Elle down and cupped her warm cheeks in his hands.

“That was sexy.”

“Really?” Elle asked and used her legs to bring Calum closer to her. “Because I don’t think that made any sense.” The two of them laughed as they kissed again, their lips turned upward in smiles as their teeth clashed together. Each kiss turned more intense than the last, causing heat to pool into Elle’s underwear as Calum’s erection only grew due to the sounds of her soft moans. It got worse for him when she moaned loudly after he found the sweet spot on her neck, the sound nearly causing Calum to moan himself. He started to unbutton her blouse when she stopped him.

“There’s something I have to tell you before you continue,” she said, placing her hands on Calum’s chest to essentially push him away from her. Both of them were out of breath. “I’m a virgin Calum.” Elle expected him to pull away from her and dismiss her, opting to just ignore what happened and allow her to go back to her work - or home. Instead, she smiled softly when Calum pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“If you don’t want me to-”

“Woah okay, let’s not get crazy. I never said I didn’t want you to.”

“So you want me to?”

Elle bit her lip as she looked into Calum’s lust-ridden eyes, “I wouldn’t be on your desk with wet panties if I didn’t.”

Calum scoffed and allowed a smile to form on his lips at her words. He narrowed his eyes at her and hooked his hands around the back of her kneecaps. He pulled her to him with little force and felt the material of the skirt cause resistance.

“Let me do something about that then.”

It all was a blur to Elle. She was lost in her senses as Calum sensually loved on her. They were both so desperate for one another that she had lost herself in the pleasure that came with every tender touch and every feathery kiss that made her feel like she was being worshipped as if she were a Greek goddess. Her blouse was off in record time and her bra was soon to follow, and while Elle couldn’t get enough of his kisses, Calum couldn't get enough of her. Her body was a temple to him. Her rolls, curves, stretchmarks, and body dimples made him go weak at the knees and the sight of the hickies growing on her soft skin, along with the sounds of her moans and whimpers, made blush rush to his tip like never before. Calum could feel himself aching for her, and once his fingers made quick work of the pencil skirt, he wasted no time dropping to his knees. He groaned at the sight of the wet patch where her opening was, and he gently pulled back the cotton material to reveal her dripping core to his hungry eyes. He held himself back at just completely diving in, but the urge only grew when he caught sight of the tiny mound of black hair that rested above her clit. He moaned loudly and brought two of his fingers up to her core, collecting her arousal on his index finger before bringing it back up and putting it into his mouth. Elle sighed at the sight.

“I promise I’m going to make you feel good, my beautiful girl.” Her heart fluttered at his words, her core only growing more wet when she watched him reach up and begin to unbutton his shirt. She was in a daze as she stared at the way the city lights bounced off his caramel skin in all the right ways, the tattoos on his chest immediately sending her hot body into overdrive. She watched as Calum stepped forward in between her legs, reaching forward and grabbing her hands that were previously clutching the edges of his desk. He brought them up to his chest and placed them on his own pecs, proceeding to guide her soft hands down his chest. The amount of sexual tension and want increased in the both of them, Calum savoring the way her nails scratched against his skin and Elle savoring the way her chest and abdomen felt underneath her hands. She watched as Calum dropped back to his knees, causing her hands to slide back up to his body and tangle into his hair as she waited for him to do something. He started sucking at the skin on her thighs, leaving hickies as he made his way towards her center. He continued to tease her, kissing her plump, pussy lips before hungrily attaching his mouth to her core.

Elle was in complete bliss as Calum made slow and sensual work of his tongue. Her body was humming in pleasure as she focused on his tongue, moans leaving her lips as Calum lapped at her dripping core which such measured and rhythmic licks that it made her see stars. The vibrations from his own moans only sent her spiraling into a deep pool of pleasure, and she soon felt the knot of pressure form in her stomach. She tightly clutched his hair and started to grind herself onto his tongue, a moan ripping from both hers and Calum’s throats as she did so. She felt so close to her high and Calum could’ve sworn he had a mini orgasm from the taste and sound of her alone.

“Fuck.” She moaned out and licked her dry lips, her thighs beginning to shake as the pressure only built. She let out a loud whimper as the knot came undone and her thighs shook violently against Calum’s head as her juices flowed out onto his chin. Calum moaned against her clit as he helped her ride out her first orgasm, the feeling of her thighs shaking causing pride to course through his veins as her body jerked from the pleasure that was taking over her body. Calum could feel the pre-cum dripping from his tip as he watched her body finally come to a stop and her thighs slow down to eventually stop shaking. He reluctantly pulled away from her core and stood back up, smiling softly when he saw the smile on her lips and the way her cheeks were overcome with blush for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was heavy, signaling to Calum that she was still coming down from her high.

He leaned over her and kissed her forehead, “Come back to me.” His voice was a whisper as she looked down at Elle, noticing the mini-freckles that dusted her eyelids. He pressed a kiss gently to her eyelid before doing the same to the other one; his heart melting when he saw her bright green eyes looking up at him after she opened them slowly.

“Wow,” she giggled and brought his lips to hers. “You really know how to eat.”

Calum let out a booming laugh as he kissed her again and pulled away, reaching into his bottom desktop drawer for the bottle of lube and a condom.

“Yeah well,” Calum sighed as he squirted the lube into his hand before rubbing the liquid onto her core, making sure to put extra around her hole to prepare her for him. “I have been kind of hungry and you naturally are a meal, so excuse me for feasting.” Elle rolled her eyes at him and his playful nature, the nerves of her first time completely gone as she felt so relaxed around Calum. A tiny laugh still managed to escape from her lips the more she thought about his words, but when she saw the size of Calum as he rolled the condom onto his member, she let out a breath of astonishment.

“Still want this?”

“Duh,” she said without a second thought, causing Calum to smile at her sass. Elle groaned and covered her face with her hands and she felt her body flush with embarrassment. “I mean ‘yes’.” Calum chuckled softly and leaned forward again, removing her hands from her face and biting his lip.

“Duh.” He whispered jokingly, but Elle was still able to hear how soft his voice was even when she had made a fool of herself. He kissed her nose before pulling away and using one hand to position himself at her entrance. He ran his tip up and down her folds to collect her arousal before looking up at her once more for clarification. Elle gave him a swift nod, and he gently guided himself into her. She could feel every inch of him stretch her out, causing a stifled moan - practically a squeak - to leave her throat as the pain set in. The lube had made it slightly bearable, but she could still feel the way her core was on fire due to the sudden stretch of Calum’s cock. Calum watched with concerned eyes as Elle’s eyes were tightly shut and her face was contorted in pain as he kept pushing in before pulling out again. Another squeak left her lips as he pushed back in again, but he could tell that it was much more painful due to the way she death-gripped the sides of his desk. Calum tried to help alleviate her pain by grabbing her waist and pulling her off the desk slightly, and once he bottomed out, he waited until he could move.

And once he could, there was no stopping him.

Calum was sure to keep in mind that she wasn’t used to any of this, but the way that her pussy clenched around him sent him into complete excitement. She felt so perfect wrapped around him that he just couldn’t hold back, but judging by the sound of her moans and the way her nails were dragging down his back as he fucked her at a pace that was moderately fast, Calum knew that she was enjoying this as much as he was. He couldn’t get enough of her; the feeling of her skin against him drove him wild and her tight, wet pussy clenching around him made him delirious. Moans were falling from both of their lips as the desk started to scrape against the floor and Calum could start to feel the sweat form on his body. He buried himself deep into her pussy as he chased his high, reaching down to rub Elle’s clit to make sure that she’d reach her own.

“Cal-” Her words were cut off by a loud moan, and Calum let out a deep groan at the way her walls clenched around him as she came. He still fucked her as she juices flowed around his cock, the feeling of her walls and her warm cum around him mixed with her soft skin rubbing against her already-hot skin and her moans echoing around the room caused Calum to come completely undone above her. His load shot into the condom with such force that he saw stars and lost himself in her body as he rode out his high; nothing but heavy breathing replacing his moans once all was said and done. Calum pulled his head out of Elle’s neck to look at her, but when their gazes made contact with one another, Calum could tell that there was something wrong. Elle had a far off look in her eyes as she stared at Calum, and he knew that she was not present.

“Elle?” He asked, pushing himself up onto his palms to hold himself over her. She blinked twice, and then she suddenly started shaking her head.

“What happened?” Calum asked again, now standing back up and slowly pulling out her to prevent her from getting hurt. Elle only shook her head and sat up, pushing herself off his desk and starting to search for her clothes. It’s almost like reality had caught up with her, and her mind had suddenly reminded her of who she just slept with.

“I have to go.” She whispered and she slipped on her skirt and picked up her blouse. Calum watched in complete confusion, slowly putting on his boxers as he watched Elle scramble around for her clothing. He couldn’t even comprehend her sudden switch in moods, but he knew that she was in great pain due to the ways her face would scrunch up if she stepped a certain way.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet.” Calum said as he tried to stop her from buttoning her blouse. Elle shrugged off his touch and walked over to the couch to retrieve her shoes and her personal items.

“Elle, just wait a minute.” She could tell his voice was desperate, but her mind was screaming at her to leave. She knew that she had messed things up royally with what she had just done, and her flight or fight responses were kicking in. Calum was so baffled, but his own mind was screaming at him to get her to stay. But she wasn’t listening to him. She just kept shaking her head as if she was trying to shake off what just happened.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Elle said and threw on her coat. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re my boss. I shouldn’t have slept with you.” Her hand made quick work of the silver door knob. Calum watched as she slipped out into the lobby of the secretary, his mind racing at the sudden change in her mood. Of course he knew that they shouldn’t have done that, but he still felt an attraction towards her that he didn’t feel with anyone else - regardless if she was his assistant or not. He swiftly moved to the door and stepped out into the same lobby that she was just in. But before he could say anything, he watched as the elevator doors at the end of the hall closed shut, Elle on the other side of them.

--------

The lights in Elle’s apartment were dim when she lazily swung open the door after unlocking it. It was late, nearly around one in the morning, and Elle was confused to find the kitchen light on. The tears that she had cried on the way home were well dried up on her cheeks; the Uber driver being nice enough to not ask or say anything to her as she cried. The full weight of what she had done had hit her like a semi truck, and Elle could feel the shame deep into her bones as she spent every minute from the office to her apartment thinking about how she slept with her boss. She lost her virginity to someone who could easily control every move she did, meaning that Elle was now at the mercy of Calum come Monday. She dragged her body into the kitchen to find Noah, Liz’s boyfriend, grabbing a glass of water.

“Hey you! How was work?” He asked, his voice cheery and sweet like it always was. Elle immediately thought about the night’s events, and she could feel herself grow ashamed and regretful again.

“Long,” she croaked out, sucking in a deep breath to herself from crying again. “Really long.”

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hopefully y’all like this!!

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land-of-classpects-and-analysis · 3 years

Text

Knight of Light

Throughout our lives, we all learn new and different things every single day. Whether it is something as personal as discovering your best friend’s favorite color or they’re left-handed, or discovering something far bigger than everything you’ve known, like a great historical moment that so very little people know about. Everyone encounters the heat of Light, that excitement and pride that bubbles inside of us when we discover something and become as knowledgeable - if not more knowledgeable - as those around us. It makes us feel like we belong amongst other members of our society; like we fit in and that maybe, just maybe, we’ll be seen as better than others around us. However, even to those who are viewed to be the best of the best may often wonder if they could go even higher than their peers, becoming the best of the best of the best. Then there are also the ones who may sit there, sweating and pacing, feeling scrutinized by all the eyes of their peers in the present and in the past. Everyone is watching them, expecting them to always keep up - always amaze people with how much knowledge they truly have - if only for people to gasp and look on in awe at their intellectual abilities. Yet what is intelligence - what truly marks knowledge as something so valuable? Are they even worthy of being seen as one of the best when anyone, with enough work and dedication, could be just as successful as them; the Knight of Light? While the Knight of Light may have an immense amount of knowledge, and manage to find even more of it in their day-to-day life, it is the fear that perhaps they just got lucky that makes them often hide away from the world and the people around them.

From their younger years in life, the Knight of Light showed great promise in being a truly astonishing and brilliant mind amongst their peers. They knew more than the typical child ever could, and were more than willing to throw themself fully into all of their work with little to no play in their life. Praise was a common thing in their life, though this mostly came from those older and more experienced than them in their life. In reality, the Knight’s social life from the past to present has been rather frail and desolate. When one finds themself so dedicated to the arts of knowledge and intellect, is there really any time or benefit to spending - no, wasting time making friends? That’s most likely what the Knight’s guardian(s) believed, and to make sure their precious ticket to fortune would never be tainted, never riddled with the disease of companions and the drama that may ensue with it, the Knight of Light grew accustomed to pushing away anyone that they were taught to believe were lesser than them. Even if the Knight of Light were to want companions, though, the reputation they would have already built up amongst their peers would be one as sturdy as steel and as sharp as barbed wire.

All the Knight of Light had as an option for companionship were their fellow intellectuals. People who would continue to shower the Knight of Light in praise for all the hard work they have done and how truly bright their mind shines amidst everyone else - those are the ones the Knight of Light would have to call their “friends”, their “colleagues”, their “fellow man”. The fear of being ostracized and left to fend for themself, of having nowhere to call home, along with being labelled as an imposter, a fake, someone who truly does not care for the sophisticated, dedicated lifestyle that can come of Light - this is what truly sets the foundation for the Knight of Light. The Knight of Light is one who has many facades, some ranging from being a good, obedient, and subdued child or friend, specifically one who doesn’t question authority, and also ranging to a person who thinks of themself too good, pure, and smart for those who clearly are not worthy of the Knight’s attention. Having this many facades, though, is yet another factor of stress for the Knight of Light, primarily in the fear that somehow, someway, they will be tried and found guilty of not being worthy enough to be amongst the best of the best.

Even though the Knight of Light shows time and time again to be one of the smartest people in their life, there is still that ghostly reminder in the back of their head, whispering to them that they will never be good enough. Their time on the stage is limited, and someday, one way or another, someone will come along and prove themself to be better than the Knight. Because of their Aspect, and this fear, the Knight of Light is one where they become extremely dedicated to pursuing and collecting all instances of knowledge - perhaps even knowledge that their fellow intellects don’t know about. Whenever the Knight of Light is asked to show off their intellect, they will never, ever show off the true width of their knowledge, if only out of one of many fears they have. One of the biggest fears is that someone may take this rare, unique piece of information and use it to become better than the Knight - to use it as a seed wherein they will grow a far better garden than the Knight. In a way, as the Knight hides away the true breadth of their knowledge from everyone, they also subconsciously hide it away from themself. This primarily allows for their fear of not being as smart as they are perceived to be, especially by those they look towards for admiration and reassurance, all the more real.

It is this fear that poses itself to be the ultimate undoing of the Knight of Light, though. The reason for this is that, due to them not wanting to give away their own knowledge in fear of someone using it for their own advantage, the Knight of Light also eliminates any chance of their hidden knowledge being used for good. At some point in the Knight’s life, they will be met with a situation where they must not only make a choice, but also make a grand sacrifice in regards to their life. What this situation is may vary from Knight of Light to Knight of Light, but one thing is for certain: the Knight must be willing to finally open up about the truth about themself and the knowledge they truly know about. This could range from exposing the crimes of someone, giving the answer to a burning, painful question someone may have, they have the solution to a dire problem and situation, and so on. However, Light-bound are often those who do not play by the rules written for them, and so if the Knight of Light believes that if they simply decide to step away and continue keeping their lips sewn shut about their knowledge, then they will happily let whatever chaos threatens them and their group come flooding in.

The Knight of Light is one who has become so shrouded in their own facades that even they do not know who they can truly trust, whose side they should be on, and what they are even meant to do. As such, when faced with a situation where they find themself having to sacrifice a part of them that makes them better than everyone else - their knowledge, their Light - then they would rather allow for the roof to come crashing down atop of everyone if only to protect themself and their knowledge. If this opening to the Knight of Light has sounded like the journey of a Knight of Light chosen to follow the path of protecting their Aspect, that is unfortunately not entirely true. While the Knight of Light, at least in the beginning, does indeed show signs of protecting Light, it is only done in a way that benefits the Knight, and maybe, just maybe, those they deem to be the winning side. Morals are not a strong point for the Light-bound, especially when it comes to their precious orb of knowledge. No, the journey for the Knight of Light is only just beginning, and it is most definitely one that will bring humbleness and selflessness to knock on the Knight’s door. Let’s start with the most obvious one: the Knights of Light who protect their Aspect.

While the Knight of Light may protect their own Light in the beginning, this selfish act would be one that would not go unchecked forever. After the incident in which they failed to protect those who were truly in need of the answers the Knight held, it would only be a matter of time before the consequences of their actions found them. Perhaps they would be given one last chance by those higher than them to prove themself fair, brave, and worthy of remaining part of the pack of intellectuals. Whether it is by accidentally mixing up their facades, or finally allowing for their facade of unwavering loyalty to die out, the Knight of Light would be on to look upon the leaders with a sense of pride, and perhaps even cockiness. The Knight of Light would stand up for themself, for their hidden knowledge, and they would refuse to crumble beneath the pressure of these so-called leaders. It should be of no surprise that this would bring the Knight of Light to become scorned and despised by those they once called family and friends, and while the Knight may show themself to be unafraid of the world that lies outside their walls - the real world - there is no doubt that it is simply them, once again, hiding away these facts.

Not long after the Knight of Light would step forth in the real world, unsupported and only having their wits to help them, it would become quite obvious just how helpless the Knight truly is. While they may have a great internal library of knowledge in regards to things such as history, literature, arts, and other things of the such, what the Knight truly lacks in knowledge is how to socialize. After all, they had spent so many years building themself up to be someone part of the top tier people in the societal hierarchy, and so to find themself now cast out is something that will most definitely bring great fear and stress for the Knight of Light. They were- no, they still are one of the best. If anything, the fact they were cast out must truly show that they are not just one of the best, but the best! Right?...Right?

It is lonely to be at the top of the world, but it could be argued that coming down from such a thrilling high is even more lonely. That is one of the most defining features of the Knight of Light’s journey: isolation. Their mind is one who shines as bright as the sun, and yet they are still scared to share that Light with those around them. What the Knight of Light needs is not only the universe itself to humble the Knight, ripping away the last of their facades, but they also need real, genuine people who will accept them for who they are and also will keep the Knight on track to becoming more open - more willing for the lock on their library door to become open to those they trust. At first, it’s a tough ride for the Knight, if only because their “holier than thou” facade often gets in the way and comes out at the worst times possible. However, at one point or another, the full, ture, and pure Light of the Knight would manage to shine just bright enough to catch the eye of one person or another. This may bring the Knight of Light great distress, as they prepare to have to prove themself worthy of being recognized as the brilliant person they’ve been molded into all their life.

As time goes on, though, the more they allow themself to become immersed in the lives of people they may have deemed to be blind fools, the more the Knight of Light will see that knowledge is far more than what they were taught. Knowledge isn’t just books, multi-page long essays, sleepless nights, anxiety creeping around every corner, smiling for every photo, it isn’t about setting one’s self ablaze so that they, themself, may not feel warm, but so that everyone else in their life can, too. That’s not what knowledge is - that’s what blind obedience is, and it’s what systematic lies are made of. A letter grade does not define the Knight of Light, but rather how they use their gift of knowledge. The Knight of Light is a person with a bright and beautiful mind that very few can comprehend, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is how they present themself, who they choose to surround themself with, and what they do with the blazing sun that scorches every last fold in their mind. The Knight of Light realizes that they weren’t scared of being seen as not being as smart as everyone viewed them, but that they were scared of not being a quiet, obedient prodigy twenty-four hours and seven days a week. They see now, though, that they aren’t meant to protect just their own knowledge, but that they are meant to protect everyone else’s Light, too.

The Knights of Light who choose to protect through their Aspect are arguably the group who comes to terms with their situation far quicker than the other group. They have realized the error of their ways - their judgement - and so they wish to find ways to redeem themself and show that they have no bias nor hatred for others. However, while they may have come to terms with things quicker, they do still have to uncover all of the walls and ivy that has fortified itself around their Aspect. That is to say, while they have come to peace with being cast out, and they do wish to try and help others with the knowledge they do have, their biggest issue is that the depths of their knowledge have been buried deep, deep within the Knight themself. Because of this, until the Knight can come to terms with who they are, and what they have done, they will be unable to hone their powers and protect through their Aspect, wielding it like that of a sword.

At first, the Knight may try to rush into a situation regarding a specific topic. They would be rather eager to lay-out all of the true facts and raise more awareness on the accurate information on this topic - especially if it is one they hold so near and dear to their heart and mind. However, when the moment would come for them to make their argument, the Knight would come to realize that they have been frozen in a type of internal stalemate. After all, the people they are trying to converse with are commoners, they wouldn’t understand what the Knight of Light was truly talking about nor are they worthy. Then again, the Knight of Light themself has been turned away from being part of those higher on the hierarchy, and so they should be more than willing to hand out this information to others. Yet, here they stand, incapable of properly speaking up and out about this attack of misinformation being spread. Eventually, the Knight would most likely try to play it off, simply saying that they do not have time to waste their breath on someone so painfully misinformed and biased.

Do not mistake this behavior for that of a Rogue of Light, though, for while Rogues put on these acts of confidence to hide their lack of an Aspect, there is no doubt that the Knight of Light is one who has plenty of their Aspect to use. Their biggest issue is that they must learn how they can finally achieve this state of power, wherein they can finally protect those around them by using the knowledge that they have acquired. In a way, it’s a bit ironic that someone as bright and knowledgeable as the Knight must learn how to even wield such an important thing in their life. Now, to answer the question of how they are meant to find the bravery, the security and support, to do this, it is a rather unsurprising one. The Knight of Light, much like the previous group of Knights of Light, must surround themself with company that shows their true support and appreciation for the Knight. What the Knight of Light lacks in the beginning is just that - companionship. They have become an outcast from those they looked up to, and now they must start all over again, all the way from the bottom of the pit.

It would be a slow process, mostly due to the fact the Knight of Light must also get over their own instilled biases first. When first meeting the people who would prove themselves to be the ones to help them, the Knight would mostly be very frugal in what information they give out - perhaps even going as far as to lie about one or true facts in an effort to hide them. However, as the Knight of Light gets to know these people, or even just one person, the Knight of Light would see that the only thing that comes out of being so secretive, so withdrawn and hesitant to open up about one’s own pieces of wisdom and knowledge, is loneliness - isolation. The Light may be warm when it is kept to one’s self, but what about all of the other people in the world who have not felt its warmth? Is it not unfair to leave them in the cold darkness, lost and confused with no idea of where to go? Maybe the cold does not bother them due to the fact that while they may not have the Light to warm them, at least they are not alone. It is by being exposed to people and their willing to share in their own Light, small or large, that the Knight of Light realizes they can do more than protect themself from freezing in the cold Void. They realize that what they are meant to do is not hide away their knowledge, their Light, their fire from the world, but instead they are meant to use it as a means to guide and protect people from the cold - to share it to the best of their ability. It is upon this discovery where the Knight of Light may finally begin to break away the wall separating them from their Aspect.

The Knight of Light started their life showing great promise in being a true, brightly shining beacon of Light. While this Light may have been nurtured and managed to grow into a great, blazing sun, the people who did so most likely did not put the Knight’s crucial necessities into consideration. Instead, what was born was not just a sun fueled by knowledge, but a person who was never entirely sure what they ever truly wanted as their own person. They were almost always told what they wanted - good grades, a clean and civil friend group, being punctual, never questioning but instead always respecting authority, and so on. Because of this, they quickly learned to hide away who they really were and what they really wanted in the world, but in the process also managed to hide themself away from any possible real friends - leaving themself to only be in the company of people held to similar standards as them.

However, as the Knight of Light grows older and gains more knowledge about their studies, rather than the world around them, the Knight would become restless. They would most likely go out of their way to reach out and gain more knowledge of far more obscure and niche pieces of information. While their restlessness is one of the reasons for this, another reason is that they simply fear that somehow, someday, someone may come and prove themself to be smarter and better than the Knight, thus casting them out from the group and being demoted to another commoner. One of the only true things about this fear, though, is that they will indeed be cast out from their pack, but it would be by the Knight’s own selfish and arrogant reasonings. They would show rebellion to those who pose as authority above the Knight, and they would also dub them to be a group who is bound to lose whatever battle they may take part in. If there is one thing the Knight of Light wants more than knowledge, it’s to be on the winning side of any battle. Out of anyone to know which side is the winning side, it would be the Knight of Light.

By taking on this title of outcast, the Knight of Light must also come to terms that everything they may have been told was a lie, a false idea of what knowledge truly is about. While the Knight of Light has plenty of academic knowledge, it will become obvious to many people that they greatly lack in the knowledge of everything other than books and what is taught in scholarly situations. However, it is within this new way of life where they will have to realize they can’t survive, they can’t thrive if they are going to continue being stingy and hesitant to share their knowledge with others. It is through the people they turned their nose up at that will be the ones to show the Knight of Light what knowledge they are truly lacking. Even if the Knight of Light may even outright refuse to partake in such silly things, instead trying to double down on their facade of being too good to be on the same level of commoners, there will be two defining experiences that will separate the Knights of Light into one of three groups.

For the Knights of Light who would go on to protect Light, they would mostly come to learn that it is not just their own Light that needs to be protected but rather everyone else’s Light. Their powers would be that of protecting the integrity of Light and what it stands for: bringing and finding enlightenment, truth, and knowledge to those who are not only worthy of basking in the sun’s rays, but those who wish to seek out its warmth and kindness. Because of this act of protection, they would be the one to try their best to maintain honesty in the group, if only to avoid the chaos and mistrust that lies and confusion can bring. However, they may become biased in their means of protection, and only set out to protect certain instances of Light, if only to gain the upper hand and remain on the winning side of whatever fights may be occurring. Along with this protection, they would most likely try to seek out any piece(s) of information their allies and friends have that could benefit the Knight and the rest of the team. They would most likely do this if only to try and protect, maintain, and archive that information if something were to happen to the source of this information. In a way, these Knights of Light may very well be similar to that of a living library or museum, a conscious, breathing archive of countless pieces of knowledge, all tucked away within the internal shelves of the Knight of Light’s mind. Because of this, these Knights of Light are very peculiar as to who they allow near their fire of knowledge, and so if they offer such an opportunity to cozy up with them as they share with you their knowledge, do not pass it up. It may be your only chance to do so.

As for the Knights of Light who went out to protect through their Aspect, they are the ones who realized that to keep all of their knowledge to themself is to not only be selfish, but downright harmful to those around them. While the Knight greatly benefits from keeping all of the things they have learned to themself, is it not one of the loneliest experiences to be the only one sitting by a fire, knowing there are others searching for the warmth that you may provide? It is through this realization of selfishness that the Knight of Light will begin to try their best to not only unlearn these ways of bias, but also how they can go about and use their knowledge to not only benefit others but also protect them from falling into the endless depths of Void - of ignorance. The biggest struggle in breaking away from these biases that the Knight faces is that, in order to truly break it away, they must also rid themself of their snobby facade completely. While the Knight may have a great fear of having to face who they really are, or rather what they lack in regards to who they are, it is an inevitable milestone in the Knight's journey; especially if they do wish to eventually become a true, noble Knight. The more they would go about and protect others through their Light, the more they would also learn to build up their own identity and what they truly stand for.

Eventually, the Knight of Light would finally be able to pull their sword from within that internalized river of molten gold, something so beautiful yet so scalding. By protecting through their Aspect to the best of their ability, this means that they would use whatever knowledge they have gained over time as a weapon - a source of brutal protection for their friends and allies. They are the Knights of Light who would be able to hone in and sharpen their skills, and their wits, to the point of being like that of a blade. Whether the Knight sought out the information themself and forged the blade on their own, or it was given to them, sharpened against the stones of loyalty, honesty, and facts. Through one means or another, there is no doubt that the Knight will pass up a chance to show that there not only is the pen mightier than the sword, but that the pen itself can become a sword if one is more than willing to dedicate themself to such a task, but will also take great pride in it. While the other group may have been the ones to protect their Aspect from being wiped out or exploited, these are the ones who have no problem in unleashing the true wrath of their Aspect, scorching their enemies with the knowledge that they have accumulated. Although this brutal, warrior strength often is used as a last resort, it does not mean the Knight of Light will have any moral struggle if they must use their knowledge in such a ferocious, protective manner.

Ultimately, the role of the Knight of Light is one who holds their intellectual values to an extreme level. Being able to advance from all known, possible directions when approaching a problem, whether it is a verbal argument, a puzzle, or a fight for one’s life, the Knight of Light will see to it that if they are meant to come out on top, then they will. Although they hold their intellectual values to such a high level, chances are that as they gain more and more beloved and trusted friends, they will hold their love and dedication to these people to around an equal level. Perhaps there will be some Knights who hold their friends a little bit higher, but it is those people who will be able to experience the true dedication and satisfaction that comes from being able to solve a problem for them, protect them and their integrity, and to say that they did it. They have been a stingy, reclusive soul in the beginning, but that is only because they believed their sun to only be capable of shining down on a few select points in the world. However, it was not that the sun was selective in where it shined, but that the Knight of Light had been made to believe in such a lie. It is from the ashes of these lies, the cause of them being brought upon by the Knight themself, that they managed to become reborn. While they may occasionally fall back into their facade of snobbish behavior and snarky attitudes, when the Knight of Light looks out upon the sky, reminding themself where the Light truly falls, they will also be reminded as to why they have been deemed worthy of wielding their Aspect in one fashion or another. It is always keen to remember, though, that with a Knight of Light, there will always be a few staple things in their identity. They are dedicated to the Light and will use it as a means of protection, whether it is by that of a shield, sword, or both; they are ones who have the ability to use their intellect, their own words, more as a weapon than any true piece of destruction; and, finally, the most loving gesture one could experience with a Knight of Light is to have them give a proper, personal invitation to sit by their fire, appreciate the warmth from it, and hear the tales that the Knight of Light has to tell.

#Knight #Knight of Light #Homestuck #Hiveswap #Knight of Light Analysis #Light Aspect #Noble November #Light

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1oserjk · 4 years

Text

— at least i look cool

you’re prone to self destruction, it’s all what being with jungkook has deduced you to.

at first, you didn’t mind — but now? you want out.

x masterlist

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

You don’t know where you are, whose house this is, or how you even landed an invitation, but you’re definitely here.

For the past three hours, in fact. The only reason your mind could wrap around the time was only because of the fact that you have been sitting outside the backyard porch, phone in one hand and cigarette in the other, observing many splashes and subtle groping in the pool presented in front of you. Not many people are outside alongside you, at least not as much as the people inside, too unsure to take a dip in the chilly night. It still surprises you with the handful of girls proudly wearing flimsy bikinis and goosebumps raised all over their skin, curiously wondering how many would come back with a cold and a few regrets.

You figured it would have been less suffocating here rather than in there, and where you’ve sat numbingly for awhile. A small corner of the stairs were an alright spot, a few legs would bump into you when figures would pass by, but other than that, it’s been okay enough to stay.

Until a bulky boot nudges you in the shoulder. It’s harsh enough to push back on it, most likely leaving a mark on your grey pullover. You don’t even bother to turn around and check, already knowing exactly who was trying to bug you. The boots take a step down, a level below the one you’re sat on, taking the leftover space next to you for a seat. His warm chest presses against your side, hand resting behind the both of you to lean back easier. Jungkook has always been like that, running like a furnace, having it be on most days being consumed whole by him when he would lay next to you.

“Hey,” he flatly greets. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Still, you don’t look at him. “You found me.”

He slightly scoffs, childish smile seeping into his expression - easygoing almost. He doesn’t reply, instead reaching out for your dimly lit cigarette that was, what, your fifth of the night, already halfway through.

His lips wrap around it and your nose scrunches before asking, “Did you fuck anybody before this?” Your head tilts towards the inside of the house, hinting towards the second level of the house.

He doesn’t nod, avoiding eyes, but the bruises on his neck peek through past the collar of his thin shirt. Your finger goes to prod at them, but he swats them away.

“I told her no marks,” he briefly explains, as if it was an excuse and that even if she had followed his orders, you’d be stupid enough to overpass it.

You only give him a weak attempt to joke about it, “She obviously didn’t listen.”

He only shrugs before you tug down the collar slightly when he’s unguarded, and end up finding an unsightly image of scratch mars along his back. Your eyebrows raise, and he still doesn’t have the guts to look you in the eye.

“Fucked her in missionary too,” you note. “What? Looked her in the eyes and told her you loved her?” You taunt sarcastically, eyes passing over heads by the poolside. A few of the girls have climbed out of the freezing waters to take pictures for their social media to post later. Giggles and screams are the only thing heard. He probably has his eye on some of them at this very moment.

“Jealous?” He asks, smoke blowing straight at you.

You shake your head with a few silent beats in between. “You do it every other night,” you only say right after. “Got used to it.”

You can feel his stare, only because of how it burns at your side. He has the nerve to pass the burning stick back to you.

You deny him. “Keep it.”

It stays quiet for a few more minutes, save for some of the useless dialogue and shitty music played through the speakers inside of the house that has unfortunately reached both of your ears outside. You feel him shift closer, hand landing right between your hip and thigh. It used to feel pleasant - comforting, but feeling it now, it only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Your elbow prods at his middle to back off, but being that he was obviously stronger than you, it barely fazes him, maybe just a flash of hurt, but only that being it. He pulls you closer protectively, but close to suffocating, the side of his face only a few inches away from your lips.

He then asks, “Are you happy?” A question he asks every single night when he finds you at each houseparty, after shortly abandoning you for a few drinks and a quick fuck. He asks you, and you had always given him the same exact answer.

This time, you look at your surroundings, shallow people all around you who barely knew your name and only as the girlfriend of Jungkook, almost glaring at him when they land back on his jaw.

This wasn’t a place to be sought as happiness, or exactly where you wanted to be, no, this place was just a filler to feel as if it was something, when really, it was absolutely nothing. To some people, this place, this lifestyle, is counted as home, but to you, you had no idea what that was or how it felt like. All you really knew was that it definitely wasn’t this shitty place with beer bottles and cans scattered all over the yard and even some floating in the pool.

To Jungkook, maybe. But to you, it was and will never be this.

This time, you answer with something completely different, something that he is not immune to hearing, not used to either, something that throws Jungkook completely off.

“No.” Time ticks, and he stiffens, you sense it at the look of his jaw. You continue to stare straight at it with tired but widened eyes. “I’m not happy, Jungkook. I don’t even think I know what that is anymore.”

He covers his furrowed brows quickly, clearing his throat and easing a chuckle out. “You’re drunk,” he excuses.

You shake your head. “I’ve been sober for the past five days,” you admit to him. “I’m tired, but I’m not drunk.”

He locks eyes with you, searching for any type of bullshit you were pulling, but in fact, they hold more form than his own.

He can’t believe it. “You - You’re not happy?”

Shaking your head slowly, you confirm.

“I.. Why?” He attempts weakly, holding you tighter to secure that you were actually here and telling him these things. “Everything is here. I thought you.. I thought you wanted this?”

Your own brows draw together. “Jungkook, why would anybody want this? I’m constantly exhausted - and for a lot of things actually,” you unsurely admit with chapped lips. “I-I’m tired of my parents hating me, I’m tired of having two-faced friends that my own boyfriend fucks on the weekends, I’m tired of just being here for no reason,” you confess carefully, eyes shuddering when they close tightly. “Why would I be happy in this situation?”

He calls your name and draws it out slowly.

“I almost got fired last week for barely even having half a mind to do such mundane things-”

“Is this what this is all about? Baby,” he starts, pushing at being more affectionate, like he wasn’t being distant a few minutes before this conversation. “I make enough for both of us, you don’t have to keep working if that’s what’s really making you upset.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going to depend on you.. I-I won’t.” It’d be a complete nightmare having to, and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself properly if you could barely even handle what he’s putting you through now.

“Look at me,” he tries again, fingers softly at the space of your jaw and throat, directing you towards him. “Your parents?” He spits the words out with distaste. “They don’t care for you, they don’t love you,” he staples to your head, like every other time he had to tell you. “It’s been me and you for the past two years and you have been doing just fine without them.”

Your eyes bawl and your head shakes repeatedly, both hands clutching his wrist tightly, “You’re barely home and the only way I can see you is through these stupid fucking parties, always right after you fuck someone else. How is that fair to me, Jungkook?”

“I’ll stop,” he suddenly declares, eyes turned promising.

“No,” you quickly say. “I-I can’t anymore.”

“Baby,” he begs, both hands cupping your jaw, “Please.”

“I want to go home, Jungkook,” you whisper brokenly.

He nods with eager eyes. “O-Okay. We can go back-”

“Not there,” you interrupt. “Not with you.”

He swallows and bitterly reminds, “_____, our apartment has been your home for two years - with me, ever since you got kicked out by them.”

Tears fall and you choke on your words, “The only reason they kicked me out was because I was with you.”

His face falls flat, eyes wavering back and forth unsightly.

Your throat clears, palms rubbing at your knees, long and oversized sleeves tucked and curled into your hands. You announce, “I’m going to stay with someone else for awhile. H-He’s nice and a little bit older, but he takes care of me-”

“Who?” He searches, eyes beginning to mix with fear beneath the hardness of his expression, but you can see it - clearly. The only thing that has paid off from being with Jungkook these past few years, was to know and see when he was scared of something. Primarily when it wasn’t something he wasn’t used to, something that he wouldn’t be able to fall back on. “You—You’re seeing someone else?” He then asks, voice breaking at the very end. The surface of his eyes shine over, and your own heart tugs.

Your head pulls away stubbornly, searching for anything else to look at. “No, don’t play that card, Jungkook,” you say, stripping his hands away from your face completely. “You can’t just do that, act like your the fucking posterboy of all things good!”

“Just answer,” he says, luring you softly. You falter at his eyes that drag heavy. “Please?”

Swallowing, you bask in the silence being gifted to you between the seconds, not sure if he would grant it to you at all after this. “Yoongi,” you inform. “He—He’s a good friend-“

“Friend?” he repeats back harshly.

“Friend,” you affirm with vigour equalling the same as his in your own tone. It surprises both of you. “For now. Maybe more, later. I don’t know, but I want to try at least.”

His arms retract away, forearms resting on his knees, now being hunched over. His face hides away in the shadows, the dim porch light failing at acknowledging his ticking jaw and dark demeanor he holds high up at times when he does not get what he wants.

You’re obviously confused, not understanding a bit on why he was suddenly so distressed about you leaving him. You’ve caused him so much more weight ever since staying with him, clearly showing several times how much it sucked that you were there, holding him back from whatever the fuck it was. It didn’t make sense how it had clicked for him that you had feelings that counted and that you were expected to disobey at times when things were unfair.

Why did it matter now?

In all honesty, you were doing him a favor. Your presence was finally heading somewhere else. More room for him, for other girls, and whatever fucked-up shit he puts himself through these days. He’d finally be able to properly live without anything to tie him down.

Looking down at your palms, they grow shaky and like all the other days, you’ve grown used to it, but now, it’s different. Especially when you announce, “I’m going home tonight, Jungkook.”

He stays silent, knowing that for the years that you had been with him, you’ve always grouped him along with it. It was questionable now.

You feel it — an unsureness that is held so close, almost like it’s strangling you, asking if you were even making the right choice, and honestly, you weren’t sure. You were put on such an unstable routine - nothing felt right anymore, but you would do anything to get away from this and everything else.

You’d do absolutely anything to get away from Jungkook who has broken you from the beginning, creating and building a faulty imagination that everything was completely alright when it never was.

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

hi, this is literally so different than what i usually venture out to in terms of writing but like, i’ve been reading a lot of dark n more mature concepts which has fortunately broken this block i’ve had for the past month(?) so im happy that it has.

the setting n some of the plot is definitely inspired by sasha sloan’s song n also a little bit (n take this with a grain of salt bc i didnt really see it until i read it ovr again) of millenium mambo’s layers mixed somewhere in the tone, especially with yoongi plopped in the middle of it

promise i’ll write smthg happier these days :]

seeulater

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #mine #at least i look cool

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Text

Hey guys I'm gonna be out and about today but before I go out to town I thought I leave you with some little Laddie Headcanons! A special thank you to my co-writer @imlostinsantacarla !

Laddie Headcanons

Unfortunately, Laddie was a part of a home in which a divorce was in the process of being filed. There was an immense amount of tension in the family dynamic whilst his father and mother sought to gain custody of him individually as they were in the midst of a messy breakup. The young child’s grandparents were aiding his father in filing for custody over him as his mother was hell bent on having sole custody without any visitation rights.

It’s well known that Laddie’s face was on a milk carton in the movie, with the word ‘MISSING’ written above it. This is just primarily speculation, of course. However, why else would two parents who didn't care about their child put up missing person’s posters everywhere? It’s certainly obvious that his parents were deeply troubled and affected by their son going missing, in conjunction with being apprehensive over his safety as they had no idea where he was.

Whilst his father was attempting to gain custody of him with his grandparents' help, Laddie’s mother lost him one night whilst on the BoardWalk too busy getting drunk at a bar, which is how and where the boys found him. He was all on his lonesome, wandering the BoardWalk terrified. The sight sincerely pulled on their heart strings. Seeing a little kid lost in the dead of night searching for his mother desperately just did not sit well with them.

Armed with the knowledge that their fellow sister Star was having second thoughts over their lifestyle, David immediately took the initiative to coax Laddie into drinking his blood and turning into one of them. This was not only to provide the child with a home, but also a strategy put in place to keep Star close and have her fully commit to their way of life as vampires. After all, girls love kids, don’t they? Surely her maternal or big sisterly instincts would kick in and provide her with the drive to become a caring figure for the young boy whilst solidifying her place in their group. She’d already agreed to the terms, there was no backing out now!

The other boys come to a conclusion of agreement that this is the best option as they cared about Star immensely, least enough to put up a fight when she was considering leaving, and they could not just let a poor boy stay out on the streets with nothing. There was a high likelihood of him getting kidnapped, murdered or something far, far worse whilst he was out there on his own. So they made the collective decision to take him under their wings and into their home, promising him that he would always remain safe with them.

Graciously, as if it were a match truly made in Heaven, Laddie and Star got on swell. The wee boy clung onto her desperately as she truly did remind him of his own mother and how she once was when she was with his dad. Star also bears a resemblance to his mother physically, ensuring that Laddie would bond with her much easier. The boys could not have been more happier and celebrated their success.

And thus it was settled! The boys took Laddie to the hotel and turned him, buttering him up a little in order over the next several to gain his trust and comfort.

"So, Laddie, you like it here?” David smirked at the young boy sat on the edge of the fountain in the hotel.

“Yeah it’s super cool!” He beamed enthusiastically, dangling his little legs off the edge and swinging them back and forth, they barely even hit the ground.

"Would you stay forever?" David pressed further, blonde brow quirked up in intrigue.

"Can I?!" Laddie exclaimed with an enormous grin plastered on his childish countenance.

"Hell yeah little dude! We even have a pretty, cool big sister for you!" Paul interjected just as happily, patting the tiny guy on the shoulder.

"Really?!"

"Mhm," Dwayne added, "and you can play every night."

"And you can eat as much as you want without getting sick, dude!" Marko declared.

"So, Laddie, what do you say?" David asked, head cocked to the side as he watched the little runts eyes float from face to face.

He sits still for a moment... "Hell yeah!"

The guys cheered excitedly, Marko handing David some fancy looking bottle, who in turn passed it to Laddie. "All you gotta do now, is drink this."

"It smells funny. What is it?"

"Old grape juice."

All the while, when Laddie is missing, his mother is struck with excruciating bouts of grief and shame, and attempts to get herself into a better space. Overcoming the worry and guilt that she feels over losing her son through alcohol, drugs, whatever it was that had caused her to lose her son on the BoardWalk that night, is an incredible challenge. She felt she had let her son down as well as her previous marriage. It only spurs on Laddie’s father to find him and gain total custody of the boy.

Living with four rambunctious teenage boys is a handful in itself, so it’s not a wonder that Laddie swears like a sailor, a terrible habit he picked up from the boys. Yet his one sister attempted profusely to set a better example for him. David and Paul find it hilarious that Laddie has a filthy potty mouth, whereas Dwayne and Star aren’t a fan of his newfound language.

“Hey, watch your language, bud.” Dwayne states sternly, chocolate orbs glowering into Laddie’s smaller ones.

“Pussy!” Paul bursts out in between a false coughing fit.

Laddie truly adores reading comic books frequently. In fact, the Frog brothers knew Laddie far before they knew the Emerson’s, they just didn’t acknowledge the kid all that much since he was far younger than them. This was especially since they were far too engrossed in blabbering about vampires, their investment in their own stuff made it impossible for them to give an ounce of attention to him. In their eyes he was always just the little twerp that stood on his tiptoes at the counter in their parents store, sprinkling dollar bills on top of a fat stack of mad magazine, Batman, and secretly some horror comics stuffed underneath the other ones he’d picked out.

“ 'Scuse me, can I get these," Laddie inquired politely, his eyes peering up at the two brothers behind the counter arguing over what the best way to waste a vampire was.

“Uh, yeah sure kid, whatever.” Alan stated fervently, his eyes still plastered on his brother's brooding gaze.

Edgar stuffed them into a plastic bag without sparing the kid a glance. “$15.75.”

“Okay.” Laddie stated in defeat before scooting over a wadded up ball of a $20 bill onto the counter before collecting his change and leaving with his head hung low.

Laddie is still a sucker for comics and wants new ones on a constant basis, it’s certainly something that aids him in passing the time at the hotel. Yet Paul’s adamant that he isn’t going to pay those dorks at the comic book store a single cent from his pocket. And David is a master at mental illusions, so there is one hell of a team to concoct a way to steal comic books. Neither Paul nor David feel any shame in it. David will create the illusion that Paul is walking by the store, only to actually be stealing a stack of comics to keep the poor kid happy.

Star and her inability to part with her human nature and high morals, is never too thrilled about the entire ordeal of stealing comics for Laddie. Laddie sees nothing wrong with it and only responds with utter enthusiasm at how awesome Paul is because Paul can do whatever he wants! This leads to Laddie following in the footsteps of the other boys, believing that he can both take and have whatever he wants, whenever he wants it no matter if there’s real life consequences involved because he can use his gifts (with training from David) to acquire all of his desires.

It’s also a common occurrence for Laddie to experience homesickness; after all, he misses his parents dearly because even though they weren’t the most astounding or perfection parents, they were still his parents. When this occurs, he’ll often seek out Dwayne or Star for comfort, sitting beside them, perched into their sides. They will attentively listen to him, reminding him of how much they themselves and the other boys love him and how they aren’t going anywhere. They all will be together forever. They’d even let him know that his parents and grandparents still love him too, even if he has a new family now.

Laddie unfortunately had to learn the hard way not to go to David about this specific predicament, because whenever he did, David would unintentionally guilt trip the kid about missing his parents. It wasn’t something he meant to do, it was just that David had never really had a home or a family that cared about him, his world before being a vampire was a dog eat dog world. You had to fend for yourself and choose your family. Even then he’d seen people get chewed out for trusting the wrong folks. So there’s a huge disconnection between the pair when it comes to familial things.

Whereas Marko and Paul will do things that will take Laddie’s mind right off of the down parts of being a missing child. They’ll happily play with him, get him his favorite food, read comics with him, steal said comics from the comic book store, maybe even let him help them tinker on their bikes, blast some gnarly music, you name it! They’re prepared to go all out in helping him feel happier where he is in the present and understand that he has a place with them.

Now, as for Laddie’s tantrums… well, every child has them. Usually they tend to be pretty humorous to Paul, Marko and David- that is until something happens to their precious stuff. To be fair he is an eight year old boy, of course he wants to mess with Paul’s Walkman or Marko’s bike keys! Paul nearly had an aneurysm when he saw Laddie accidentally ripped his mint condition 1965 Playboy Magazine.

"Dude who the fuck- my fuckin- WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!"

Laddie, who had been a bit spoilt from months of pampering from a group of enabling teenagers, showed minimal signs of remorse. "They were ugly anyway, she hand on granny panties or something."

Dwayne had to step in and hold Paul back from wringing the kids neck out like a wet dish towel! "Dude, Paul he's a kid"

"I will eat you, you little turd!"

Once again, David cracks up frequently until Laddie begins to delve into his stuff also. It all began when he wanted to go for a ride and David being the more lazy member of the group had turned him down, especially in a much firmer tone the second time around. So what did the little shit do? Hide all of their keys to their bikes.

"Dude, where are my fuckin' keys," Paul hissed, digging through the cave like a tornado went through the damn thing.

"Yours too?" Marko exclaimed his question, settling down the couch he had lifted onto the ground. “Mine vanished.”

David chuckled to himself, that was until he patted his pocket where his precious motorcycle keys had suddenly proved to be void of its contents. "Alright which one of you assholes stole my keys?!"

However that confrontation ignited an inferno of a tantrum from the small boy, who was so used to suddenly getting his way and now he was faced with the harsh reality of being told no. The boys should have really thought twice of enabling an eight year old boy! A fit from a kid can get ugly real quick, yet it’s a whole different story when that kid is an emotional half vampire that flips tables and screams at such a volume and octave that glass cracks. Star tends to primarily be a softer disciplinarian, she isn’t fond of the idea of yelling or smacking him, she’s much too gentle for that. Dwayne on the other hand, while preferring to approach things along the placid route, feels that sometimes it’s a necessary evil- while David just straight up thinks that a good smack on the mouth ought to settle him down.

Laddie is a thorn in their asses when he’s bored out of his mind, and the boys learned rather harshly and swiftly that having a little brother was not as fun as the Brady Bunch had it appear. This kid got into all their stuff, no matter how fool proof they made it, the kid always found a way! He would follow them excessively around the cave like a lost puppy, tell them the same story for HOURS on end, ask far too many questions that Marko would just blank the kid out with his music, only for Laddie to talk even louder! It was more than evident that the child had little concern over the fact that they were killers, he’d still happily pester them until they vamped out. In fact, he went out of his way to do that! The crazy little shit…

Laddie would climb on top of one of the many dust caked couches in the hotel right next to where David was reading and peek over his shoulder to get a noseful of whatever he was focused on. "Whatcha reading?" Laddie asked innocently, chin resting on the blonde vampires shoulder.

"....War and peace." David grumbled irately.

"What's that? It's big! It looks boring! Why are the words so tiny? What's it about? Who's the hero? Who's your favorite hero? Mine's batman! Well, I like Iron Man too but Batman has all the gadgets and stuff, and I like his cape but I guess you don't need a cape to be cool, but I like the cape anyway- I like Superman's cuz it's red, red's my favorite color. What's your favorite color? Well I mean red's super cool- oh but black! Black is really cool, i guess you probably like black too huh? I mean you wear it all the time, but really maybe it's cuz-" he had blabbered all of that out in one go without so much as a breath in between his sentences! And David selfishly wondered what the repercussions were on if he flew the kid onto a random cliff and left him there for several hours. He knew it probably couldn’t be good, but it was worth a try if he was ever going to catch a break and get this book finished! Not to mention the countless times that Paul’s thrown into the mix of things, David can’t stomach it and leaves the room because he can’t handle two obnoxious chatter boxes all at once. Star yelled at him once for hypnotizing Laddie to fall asleep because he wouldn't stop talking about Batman and Robin.

It’s obvious that Laddie tends to ride with Dwayne, and it’s because Dwayne is capable of ensuring that Laddie stays in one piece. If the kid had his way and rode with Paul… let’s just say that Laddie would be smeared road kill! And frankly, none of the other vampires trust Paul with the kid. Last time he rode with Paul, he was nearly flung forward when he went off of a steep ramp. Star almost slapped the smirk straight off of Paul’s face! Even Marko thought it was a bad move of Paul’s. So, it was a collective decision - minus Paul’s whining and bitching, in conjunction with Laddie’s pouting - that Laddie rode with Dwayne from now on.

When the boys were killed off one by one, Laddie was the only one who was saddened by this, because he had formed genuine bonds with his older brothers and even though they weren’t perfect, they’d kept their word to him and kept him safe. He was going to miss Paul and Marko playing with him and teaching him cool stuff about bikes and rock n’ roll. He’d even miss David and the way the man got irritated whenever he flitted about him. But the one he was surely going to miss the most was obviously Dwayne. Dwayne was like the older brother that Laddie had dreamed of ever since he was a kid. Dwayne had taken him under his wing and ensured that no one messed with him. He listened to him whenever he was homesick and was always super patient with him and just all around compassionate. Out of all of the boys, Laddie related to him the most. And now he was gone. Though each boy held a special place in his heart. As he left the Emmerson residence, he didn’t have the stomach to look at their dead bodies as he sniffled on his way out, tears streaming down his face. Although they hadn’t been the best to Star and sometimes weren’t the kindest to him, he knew that they had loved the pair of them and deep down, Laddie would always love them.

After the entire ordeal, Laddie decided he’d set foot on finding his parents again and sadly left Star behind. She reminded him a lot of the boys and she would always have a special place in his heart. Before he left he hugged the life out of her, staining her gypsy purple skirt with his tears as he thanked her for loving him and taking such good care of him. He promised her that he’d never forget her and he hoped she never would forget him. Star was heartbroken but also knew that it was best for Laddie to return to his parents and live his life out normally. She hoped he’d grow up to be everything wonderful in life and she assured him that he would remain important and ever present in her gentle heart. A long way down the line they met each other again and embraced like close siblings that hadn’t seen each other in centuries. They were much older now and wiser.

But back to the present, Laddie stumbled upon his mother on the BoardWalk that night, as though it were a miracle. The woman looked strikingly similar to Star, she was the woman that he had remembered from earlier on in his childhood, and he was truly overcome with joy. He got to see his father again which made him happy also. Although his parents couldn’t work things out, they managed to come to a steady agreement that they would have equal joint custody of Laddie, which was something that made things easier on him to adjust back to ordinary life. However, whilst he was missing, his beloved grandparents passed away, never having lost hope in Laddie being alive and returning home someday. Laddie missed them dearly but he adjusted as best as he could to his brand new life. He was never really the same after being with the boys and Star and losing them all, his parents were aware of the change but Laddie never discussed what had happened to him, only responding in vague statements or exclamations.

Somehow though, he found a way to keep in touch with Star, Michael, Lucy, Sam and the Frog brothers. They were all connected through these twisted and sad chain of events, and his bonds with them only deepened as he got older. Even Though they had remained adrift in life, Star, Sam, Lucy and Michael showed up for Laddie's graduation when he finally got through high school. Even still he remained in Santa Carla up until his graduation dinner out with the Emmersons, Star and even the Frog Brothers had shown up. Wandering for a moment on his own, his pace slowed until he came to a haunting stop.

Just beyond the tilt-a whirl, outside the arcade, he swore, parked on the boardwalk he could see a group of biker boys. As the 80s peeled away into the wild teenage rebellion of the 90s, their styles had altered. A blonde still sported a wild lion's mane, another had messy curls grown out. The platinum blonde one was the first to alert the other three of Laddie's gaze. The four grunge rockers sported bizarrely skeletal motorcycles, laughing with each other, now carrying mischievous smiles. Before he could even confirm the haunting visage of said familiar faces they vanished in a flurry of roaring engines. The last to leave looked at him with dark, haunting brown eyes. He could see under the guy's leather jacket and torn up Nirvana t-shirt jagged scar tissue around each of his limbs faded into bronze skin. They just looked at each other for what felt like a lifetime, and a wave of chills trickled down his back. The raven haired biker smirked at him, no malice in his grin. Only a soft farewell, proud even. And then he was gone. Laddie managed to take a deep breath in, silently turning on his heel to return to Star and Michael at the diner. When he got home he was applying to a few out of city colleges, somewhere away from his past.

#the lost boys #lost boys 1987 #lost boys imagine #lost boys #lost boys fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #fanfic #80s movies #lost boys david #lost boys paul #lost boys dwayne #lost boys star #lost boys laddie #laddie thompson #vampire #lost boys vampires #headcanon #lost boys head canon

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norgestan · 3 years

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I'm going back for seconds! Viri/Hugo, Nora/Miquel, Lucasim, Emma/You. Lol tbh I just want an Emma ship and I feel like we haven't properly settled for one. 😔 Who should end up with Emma, Mia excluded since you haven't watched Druck yet?

ardi round 2, i loooove this :)

VIRIHUGO:

i think at the end of the day i’m just resigned to virihugo’s existence. do i hate that they just Start pining for each other with no setup at all? yes. do i hate that their relationship was a noorhelm+vilde esque get-together where dylan is the one who ends up alone? yes (imagine if noora had told william something like “oh lol vilde is just some slut that goes for every boy around her, she’ll get over it soon and she doesn’t really care about us being together ;)”. bc that’s essentially what virihugo did LOL). do i hate that half of their clips are they just standing still and monologuing about each other? oh yes. do i care? not really. i would resent them a lot more if viri had been the protag of s3, but eskam had really compelling couples with noriquel and norandro so i just spend my time focusing on them and not the lesser part of the season.

viri is an endearing character, and although i didn’t like most of her subplot in s3, i do think eskam made her an interesting character with what they had and i’m happy she got a nice boyfriend that she has lots of fun with. moreover, norandro was lacking the enemies-to-lovers snarky interactions (too busy being a really compelling couple!) and the trope was picked up by hugo and viri. which i kinda dig, because those interactions were the only things that i enjoyed about various noorhelms in the skamverse - if most of them were like that and less bad abusive boy feminist girl jerk-fest, i wouldn’t loathe noorhelm as much as i do. although this also makes me wish viri and hugo had been that kind of dynamic from the start, and just gotten a lot of will-they-won’t-they glances from their friends throughout the show until they finally got into each other on s3. but i guess that would’ve made it impossible for eskam to use dylan just to *checks notes* make every person in the love triangle insanely infuriating, oh well.

tl;dr: they are allowed to exist.

NORIQUEL:

ardi, you just want to see the world burn LMAO

to me it’s hard to dislike any pairing with nora on it because she’s a very good character and that just means she’ll always have great dynamics with other good characters. and oh is miquel a good character. in a lot of ways, eskam gave us two great williams in one season: my boy alejandro, who is the perfect candidate for a nora love interest, who earned his place and then helped nora earn her place as the best candidate to be his love interest as well, and then miquel, that has just enough characterization to be exactly what the narrative of the season needs him to be - not only a mustache-twirling antagonist who will punch out then smirk his way out of situations, but a real person.

see, they could’ve made miquel into a one-dimensional asshole that nora is stupidly into because he’s hot (does that sound familiar to you? LOL) but oh no, miquel is way more than that. he earns nora’s trust because he’s not an asshole, he resents olga for cheating on him and you can see how nora waits until the moment where he’ll call her a slut but it NEVER comes, he defends nora in front of his friends... he gives her what she needs, and he fits right where she expects him to. and that’s so important in a season where every other character is challenging nora in one way or another: alejandro doesn’t fit in her box of “incorrigible fuckboy”, viri doesn’t fit in her box of “helpless friend who needs my pity”, emma doesn’t fit in her box of “s/a victim”. being with miquel is easy, when he just humors her and spits out thoughts that nora agrees with all the time. it’s just REALLY great to watch. not only is her season a display of how emotional abuse looks like, but also her entire relationship with miquel showcases her shame, her flaws, the things she needs to work with to better her relationships with the people who ask more of her because it’s only fair.

i honestly never was in the miquel hate train. once you get the point of the character, it’s easy to love him for what he is. as i said before, miquel was also a call of attention because the conversations that he had with nora reminded me of talks with male friends i’ve had in my uni years, and it really put it in perspective and made me realize that i have been humoring numerous miquels by sitting through their “i’m actually a feminist, ya know” think-pieces and agreeing with the general feeling of it. and i don’t think a character like niko could EVER make anyone feel like that.

i’ve checked the middle square because that was my reaction every time eskam made a point to parallel noriquel to noorhelm. like YES. YOU DO GET ME. TRULY A SEASON FROM NOORHELM ANTIS TO NOORHELM ANTIS. what a skamverse treat. this relationship is good for the SOUL. that’s why i never got infuriated watching the couple, despite knowing what the point of their existence was: at the end of the day, i knew that the signs of abuse weren’t pointless and just fillers for an end-of-season sex scene, but they were actually going to do something interesting with them. and that’s exactly what they did. noriquel is actually a perfectly crafted relationship for what its message is and it deserves to be remembered as that.

LUKASIM:

oh BOY.

i just.... kasim is in this relationship. that already makes this REALLY difficult to tackle it. the thing about kasim is... if you only watched the season as the movistar+ channel shows it, kasim is simply a plot device. he’s not a character. he’s only there to introduce conflict and stir some shit and then fuck off to the sunset. he doesn’t have an og counterpart which meant that eskam didn’t have to actually try with him, and kasim is just what they need him to be: a way to introduce the main conflict, a reason for dounia to hate amira, boy on boy action for that sweet fanservice, misogynist microaggressions towards amira, a loose way to wrap things up at the end of the season and absolve her from any guilt or shame, etc. he just shows up when the plot needs him and then walks away very swaggily. and that’s why kasim is an essay kind of topic because to talk about him, you have to tackle the racism in s4 and all the ways they could’ve made a conflict-inducing gay muslim guy actually likable. which i won’t do here.

but then if you look at the lucas extra clips... he’s actually LIKABLE. he’s a character: he has personality, he’s funny, he doesn’t take lucas’ shit, he will only be with him if lucas apologizes and changes first. and as someone who desperately wants to protect kasim from the shit characterization and treatment he got in the show, i treasure those clips immensely - which i don’t think a lot of people do, and i can see why. it’s just sad that the moments where kasim was a likable, real character were hidden behind a paywall, and drown in a convoluted plotline of outing people when they behave badly as a good punishment. the thing about their get-together is that their impact relies only on amira, and is meant to make her life a living hell. other than that, there’s not really a narrative or character reason why they’re both into each other. is it only because they’re conventionally attractive guys and the only recurrent mlm in the show? wow, that shit’s BORING.

sigh, anyway. in a slightly better world, kasim being gay wasn’t actually a nuance as it was presented in the show. rather, kasim was out and confident about it, close to his sister, probably a regular in las labass where he could also work with organizations of other queer muslims in madrid. this also means that lucas and kasim’s relationship wasn’t the typical hidden gay love story that they were in the actual show, but they’re just, ya know. typical gay kids who made out in the club and then became just friends. or lucas’ activism on s2 warranted some instagram dms and then they upgraded to acquaintances. it’s upsetting that lucas is the only eskild who doesn’t really get to hangout or be in queer circles like other eskilds are implied to, so it would be great for him to actually have gay friends that he enjoys just as much as his primarily friend group. like, their version of lucas’ queer lifestyle being going to bars and hooking up with older guys it’s so....................... why. they didn’t have the time to say anything interesting about it and so obviously they didn’t do it lol. at this rate lucas’ only platonic queer companion is cris, which is lackluster to say the least.

the decision of making kasim lucas’ endgame is just another one on the list of things s4 got so, so wrong. what for? why does lucas need (another) boyfriend, again? why does every queer person in this show have to be dating someone and also come out to their parents? again, their relationship is just another rushed hidden gay love story that i found interesting at 13 years old and then never again. they could’ve taken it into ANY other direction, please. i’m begging.

anyways, you had really nice headcanons of lucas being the only eskild willing to revert to date a muslim guy, so that’s the only reason why i’m open to the idea of them being a couple. in a better universe, eskam actually made a case for these two being a good couple, and i agreed with it. as it is for now, it’s just really pointless, and rooted on the fact that kasim is not a real character to begin with. so i’m OBVIOUSLY sending them to superhell <3

EMMA/ME:

standard wlw relationship that would probably get sooooo much backlash about how neither of the characters Really feel like wlw and the emma love interest being boring as fuck, tbh.

alright, now that we’ve covered all that.... should dear emma grace even end up with someone in the skamverse? maybe one of the skamau girlies, given the proximity? maybe she’ll hook up with the female eskild that i know so many people dislike? idk. emma deserves a nice love story, in the same wavelength as nora. she deserves someone who is patient, who communicates well, who establishes boundaries and asks for respect, who understands she’s not only the act of crazy party girl and there are really interesting, carefully placed layers around her. maybe someone who went through a similar situation or at the very least sits down with her and tries their hardest to understand all the things going on with her life. like... there’s something about emma dropping the accusations and then dipping to another country, away from her parents and even her hometown in the states, just to throw herself in a city as busy as nyc is, that is desperately asking to be explained and explored. in a lot of ways, emma’s story is the other side of the noora story that couldn’t be told through nora’s perspective. in a perfect universe, there’s a spinoff that takes place right between s3 and s4, where emma gets the news of how much of a shithead miquel actually is and she has to question all of that yet again, and break the sense of normalcy and comfort she had built during all those years. it would be great if that story featured her closest friendships, and a newfound love. yes i was serious when i talked about the emma grace spinoff @ movistar+

#the emma grace spinoff involves updates of nora + therapy and the sekou/lucas endgame that we all crave #skam españa #answered #ardi this reminds me of your druck post about how every druck fan will disagree with at least one of your opinions #i feel the same about this LOL #meta

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deadwatcrs · 3 years

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⟨ tom holland , non-binary demiboy , he/they , 22 ⟩ there goes ARTHUR ‘ARTIE’ HART after the opposing team’s flag , the child of APHRODITE who was claimed to CABIN TEN eleven years ago . wielding their SPEAR , and their inherited TELEPORTATION at the ready , they’re sure to lead their team to victory . after all , it was their demigod prowess that proved to be vital during the arduous and decisive JOURNEY TO FIND DAEDALUS AND THE MAP OF THE LABYRINTH ( demigod 18 ) they ventured on in the past . don't let their feat fool you though , it was during this quest that they were challenged by their FEAR OF ABANDONMENT AND LONELINESS . perhaps that is the reason they've chosen to side with the titan army .

hello hello !!! so excited to be here with everyone :-) !!! i’m mira, i’m 20, i use she/her pronouns nd i live in the gmt+8 zone, so u can expect me awake when no one else is KJEHHSEJK i’ve been a fan of pjo since like,,,, i was 12 nd was literally convinced i was a demigod so u can imagine !!!! that when i saw this rp i was like !!!! [screams]

anyways !! this is arthur ‘artie’ hart nd they are New so i’m still working out a lot of their story, but im v excited to see where they’ll go :-) i have a few connections regarding his story nd also just ,, slapped som stuff down from the app into here HEKJHESJK

PART ONE. THE BASICS.

name: arthur ‘artie’ hart. prefers to go by artie, as arthur is what his aunt calls him. age: twenty-two. zodiac: born on july 21st, 1999, making him a cancer sun, scorpio moon and leo rising. gender & pronouns: nonbinary demiboy. uses he/him and they/them pronouns. romantic orientation: bisexual.

PART TWO. THE HIDDEN DEPTHS, THE SCRATCHED LAYER.

positive traits: compassionate / perceptive / mild-mannered. negative traits: pessimistic / evasive / easily jealous. mbti: ENFJ - the protagonist. moral alignment: chaotic good. what is their motivation?: artie is motivated, primarily, by the desire to never find themselves abandoned and alone. growing up with an absent goddess of a mother, a mother deep in her memories of a lover she’ll never see again and an aunt who tried to give them a foundation to grow from meant that their life was more or less marred by the concept of loneliness, of abandonment.

artie wants, more than anything else, for no future demigods to feel the same way they did — and if that means tearing down olympus and getting rid of the gods, then they were willing to turn the other cheek, to contribute bare bones to take on the least amount of blood and ichor. aphrodite had never made a move to acknowledge him other than the obligatory favor of claiming him as her child, and the knowledge that she too had abandoned him pushed him to the side of the titans.

the choice to do the bare minimum is rooted in the fact that they are still very much attached to camp half-blood and everyone within it, as they had been there for half their life. it is a decision rooted in wanting the best for the camp and its campers even if the decision is a difficult one. after all, what have the gods ever done for the hundreds of children they’ve brought into the world?

what was growing up like?: for starters, artie appreciates that his aunt tried. their mother was far too wrapped up in memories of a lover long gone, and aphrodite had never once made an effort beyond dropping them off at their mother’s doorstep and then claiming them as her child eleven years later. growing up was difficult. like any demigod child, there were instances that could never be explained, like the time artie was in his room one minute and the living room the next without ever having touched his closed door and the time his backpack was torn to shreds while he was still wearing it. still, they had to push through childhood, often seeking comfort in the arms of their aunt when the monsters got too close. at eleven, a satyr brought artie to camp half-blood after discovering their teleportation ability (it was a stupid incident, and one artie is reluctant to tell again, but it ends with falling asleep while their foot was in a toilet bowl while walking to class).

camp half-blood was a haven for artie as their heritage was unraveled. aphrodite claimed him a week after he arrived at camp, and he was immediately drawn to the change in lifestyle. it was a relief for all the pieces to fall into place, for artie to realize that they weren’t different. at thirteen, they became a year rounder camper after their aunt had encouraged them to stay, knowing their mother couldn’t keep them safe. their time at camp was divided into learning how to fight with a spear (a weapon that quickly became their go-to, the one weapon they were actually proficient with) and learning how to manage their ability. however, worry constantly nagged at them, as they realized they were only putting off a life alone. artie may not have been different, but there were very few people who lived like they did.

PART THREE. THE EXTRAS, THE CONNECTIONS.

ambrosia tastes like the cranberry-walnut cookies their aunt used to make for them.

they have a little mp3 player because they absolutely cannot live without listening to music. it’s not connected to wifi or data, just a little device that hosts illegally downloaded music.

interchangeably uses he and they pronouns. gender identity was something artie struggled with growing up, as they never felt totally connected to their assigned gender at birth but didn’t feel totally disconnected from it either. it took a lot of google searches, long late night talks with the nymphs and his aunt and encouragement from their fellow siblings before they realized they were non-binary, and furthermore, a demi-boy. they do have a preference for people to refer to them with ‘he/him’ pronouns, while they tend to use ‘they/them’. of course, they don’t really mind what people use as long as it’s either he or them, and ultimately, artie is just happy he’s got this part of himself figured out.

handy with a spear. they tend to spin the weapon around their hand as part of their signature move, and yes, it is just to show off how good he is at spinning it.

pinterest here.

i. this house burned down and we’ll take the memories with it.

this would be the person who artie is closest to and considers family. they would’ve been there for his every milestone, the person who had his back more often than not and vice versa. however, after artie is revealed to be part of luke’s army, betrayal strains their relationship. i can see this connection (in current times) focusing heavily on the fact that they’re both on directly opposing sides but want the other to be by their side, but being unable to switch sides themselves. this connection is also one heavily steeped in years and years of friendship, as artie has been at camp since he was eleven, and then switched to being a year-rounder at thirteen.

ii. and where have the gods gone? taken by rainier gang.

artie didn’t want to switch to the titan’s side at first. he was convinced over a long period of time, and this connection focuses on the dynamic between artie and whoever took the time to convince him to switch sides. seeing as one of artie’s deepest fears is ending up alone and abandoned, maybe this dynamic focused on that aspect! honestly, i’m open to however this connection develops since it’s a pretty open-ended one.

iii. for these are shared wounds. taken by emri kyung, salem poe.

in short, they have been artie’s sparring partner since he was a new camper. as a child of aphrodite, there was always that expectation that he’d be useless in a battlefield and this person took a chance on him, showing him everything he now knows about how to fight. they aren’t close by any means but there is comfort in intimately knowing what they’re like on a battlefield. how this dynamic develops depends on which side (or none, if they’re neutral!) the other person is on.

other wanted connections:

literally anything my brain is tiny LOL

#titanomachyintro #UHHH HERE WE GO VROOM VROOM

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radioactive-butterfly · 3 years

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There was Spike, on another day of duty, doing the very same things he used to do, every single day. Routine. Repetition. Manlabor. Hard, stiffened joints supported Spike's workforce on yet another "cattle task". He was sick of that, but he had no other choice. He had to make a living, and that shitty job was the only thing he had at the moment to do. A boring-ass, repetitive, stupid job; but an honest job, nonetheless. Spike was so filled up with anger and frustration that he couldn't muster to look at the passer-bys. He had a pretty normal life: normal grades, normal high school, normal college, normal career choice. Yet there he was, a victim of circumstantial unemployment rates and civil unrest due to the new automation wave from the joint effort inbetween the now Unified Eastern Bloc, led by Russia, China, Japan and Malaysia. Thailand was also starring in the automatons algorithms. It was a disaster for the West, that felt shortly after Britannia's downfall.

Yet, Spike cared none about this shit. All he cared was that the United States remained Unified, and still reigned free (or as free as liberty can be) in the Americas. Spike couldn't complain much about his life, especially compared to those low-life latinxs, who lived mostly in those dirty and gruesome favelas, menacing communities that could mean the end of your life in the blink of an eye, would you dare to not behave properly in the strict rules that they themselves create for them. Such an outlaw place was, of course, nowhere near where Spike lived and worked: downtown valley, East Coast, on the West Side of the Greenwich meridian, near LA. A richie’s place.

Spike’d had a somewhat of discriminatory preconceived notions of the latinxs folks, associating them with crime, robbery and smugness. This sickening repetitive job had this kind of advantage: Spike could let his mind fly high, because the shit wage that was paid was more than enough to keep a relatively decent lifestyle.

Pretending not to notice, but still taking a glance at the new passerby, Spike took notice of a distinct dark-skinned person walking near where Spike was cleaning his spot.

"You're not from here, white boy" said the dark-skinned person. Spike kept his cool, in spite of a single teardrop of sweat befalling on the back of his head. It wasn't routine for Spike to have a gun pointed at his head; regardless, Spike was used to having his life on the line.

"Bold of you to think I'm white" retorted Spike, on a surge of audacity.

After stopping to take a deep breath and blinking heavily,

the dark-skinned person replied:

"You're a jackass, but you at least got a vein of comedy in you, so I'll concede to you the honor to know the name of the one who'll kill you: Elektra."

"I don't intend to die right now, m'lady" retorted Spike in a surge of adrenaline.

By letting go of his stable gravity center, letting loose of the hang of his legs, Spike quickly dropped into the floor while at the same time striking his elbow against Elektra's elbow. The impact of such a blunt made them shoot the gun in an unconscious reaction. Spike, though, a war-veteran, was well accustomed to gunshots and kept his adrenaline-rush cool whilst at the same time keeping the adequate and precise amount of tension and bloodflow in his members, so he could be ready for any action in that moment of life-risk-gambling.

With a quick Tiger Palm strike on Elektra's gun, he struck it away from their grasp. He felt an unusual tenderness when their hands swiftly, briefly, though intensely, touched.

Using his mop to swipe even further Elektra's gun, he prepared for a fight to the death against that uncanny, unusual, yet somewhat of a hot dark-skinned person. The reason behind their death threat to him was unknown, yet he had no time to think about trivial motives now. He had a fight for his life to fight, and Elektra was an opponent of respect: it wasn't anyone who managed to make Spike drop an ice-cold sweat of nervousness.

In a sound-blasting fast kick, Elektra managed to go to knockout Spike. Had he not spent a gruesome, yet valuable short-intense-season-training with the Brigadiers, he would have fainted to that blow. Moreover, his agile reflexes granted him the privilege to see Elektra's strong leg just above his head, quickly stroking his also spiky hair and blowing his hat off. Spike had no other choice but to let his soldier side kick in and to get ready for a serious battle.

However... Spike's air missed from his lungs in a rapid gasp when he saw that Elektra wore a chest armor, instead of just a normal shirt. Why the fuck do they had such a piece of armor in the place of a normal cloth?

He couldn't help but to keep his eyes on them, whilst also noticing that they had a collar. What was the meaning of such a piece of garment, carefully placed on their neck?

By carefully managing his breath and his composture, Spike could notice that Elektra groaned while throwing their strikes. The groans that Elektra let out were uncanny, and somewhat feminine. This caught Spike's attention.

Elektra's aura was also beyond warmness — it had an intrinsic hotness that, probably coming from their sweat, inebriated Spike in the heat of the battle.

The battle raged on, and they were intense in their lashing out of their fierceness. None of them intended to go back home that day, probably sick and tired of blindly following others’ orders, or simply not giving a fuck about anything else but the heat, the melting heat of the moment of such a dynamic exchange between two persons with nothing else to lose anymore.

Spike struck the first hit, and to his yet another surprise, Elektra couldn't help but to let go an unexpected feminine groan when struck on their back. This raised Spike's suspiciousness bar, and this also made his breathing get more intense as the two of them danced the dance of Death itself: their life on the line, in an unusual barter of sensations and blows: anything for the sensation of feeling alive, maybe for Spike.

Elektra threw another one of their deadly kicks, much to Spike's surprise, and yet again his military training permitted him to survive that deadly blow: he dodged with a catseye's reflex instinct.

He gained the upper hand, cornering Elektra against the wall.

Elektra resisted fiercely, defending themselves with a martial posture. Spike projected his hips forward to gain space and dominate Elektra, who was cornered up with their back against the wall. Their heavy breathing’s scent could almost reach Spike, had he not projected his head backwards for safety against their deadly punches.

Spike had Elektra cornered. He could end the battle in an instant. But, once again, their necklace stood out from his perspective, and he quickly understood that Elektra was a woman. She also immediately realized Spike's perceptiveness, and her eye showed the almost imperceptive glance of lust, tinted with the melting heat of the exchange between the two warriors. Spike realized what was supposed to be Elektra's top secret, and she perceived Spike's realization. The stakes of the battle between the two raised above the normality of a life and death battle.

Spike let loose of his ferocity for a brief instant, with a self-dominating smile. He displayed an over-confident attitude, which maybe was intended, to make Elektra more comfortable and less hateful towards him.

Using one of his infamous tricks, he let from his sleeve a button and played with it with his fingers, whilst keeping his stare at Elektra's feline eyes. The intent behind this attitude from Spike was clear: he showed that he would rather massage her nipples instead of beat her.

Elektra didn't take such audacious move lightly; she took it to the heart. Yet, nonetheless, a part of her displayed willingness to engage in a more intimate contact with Spike. Such part was shown for but an instant in her facial expression.

Spike was taken with infatuation from her menacing look. Was it just infatuation, though? Was it the height of the flame of a burning yet ephemeral passion? He let down his guard for a nanosecond, a piece of time that was abruptly taken by Elektra, who lashed forward towards Spike.

Elektra jolted towards Spike, as he enjoyed more and more the exchange between him and her.

Whilst Elektra was displaying a primarily frustrated stance towards Spike, he was thrilled and excited with this sensual and misterious person that came out of the blue to kill him. Spike was used to putting his head on the line, though this time was totally different: he developed emotions AND feelings towards the person he was fighting against. This had never happened before, since Spike was like a lone wolf, untethered by the nefarious grasp of love... until now.

One more kick from her muscular legs and Spike could not not think about the remote, yet not impossible, possibility of getting between those legs in a different activity than a fight.

Now it was Elektra who threw a Tiger Palm against Spike, who dodged miraculously to his right, saving his skull from being crushed mercilessly against her wrath.

Their eyes crossed and Spike felt the air on his lungs and belly freeze against Elektra's heat. Spike was usually regarded as being hot and athletic, but what the heck was wrong with that girl? She kept striking him furiously and he kept enjoying it more and more. Spike was treading the thin line between life and death and he cared none about that, only about getting more of that feeling of being alive; that joyful experience shouldn't ever end on a draw. Who would penetrate the counterpart's defense first?

Spike wouldn't say it out loud, but perhaps he wished to be penetrated by her, only by her, and only that first time. Maybe this allowance from him boasted her self-confidence to the point that, this time, she was the one to corner Spike with a martial uppercut that caught him by surpise.

On a transient moment, Spike noticed against the sunlight the casting of shadow on Elektra's collar, and then suddenly everything became clear to him. They were both equal. They were the same: warriors destined to engage against each other until one of them died: either a small death or the grand death.

Spike jolted his mop forward, aiming for Elektra's mouth.

She dodges and he lungs his body forward, trying to conceal his hardness from the battle.

Nonetheless, Elektra perceives Spike's erection, and she herself becomes filled with a craving for more.

Spike himself, in spite of being erect towards Elektra's body, keeps his upper head cool, without, though, not displaying a pleasure in his expression towards Elektra. They both knew about each other's intimacy to a deep level, and they both were enjoying this exchange to the fullest.

Without a second moment to think about it and to give in to her desire, Elektra quickly reorders her blood flow from her hip area to the knees on a deadly strike against Spike, who uses the mop's counterweight to help him avoid the lethal blow on his crotch.

She lunges forward and penetrates Spike's ぜたいぼおぎょ, almost rendering him useless if not for his mop, who stuck firmly against her forearm.

She grabs his mop, and he suddenly realises she was also hard from this exchange. She wanted him to come near her, perhaps not to strike her down, but to kiss her softly. By the force she grabbed Spike's mop, he realized she wasn't overkill on this exchange, and she was helding back to not erase his beautiful yet shameful existence from the face of the Earth. Yet, she couldn't not get excited about this fight, and so couldn't Spike not be astonished by her presence of Spirit.

On an instant of lust, she grabs with both hands Spike's wood and pulls him towards her. Spike gasps at this unprecedented move, and butterflies swarm his stomach. What the fuck was happening to this veteran's training?!

She Scorpion Kicks him, and he notice that her well-developed glutes hold her butt firmly even when stretched. Spike couldn't not desire this woman with everything he had.

Her fierce and callused palm destroy Spike's mop, and he noticed how well-developed and fierce she can be. Elektra is rampant against Spike, and he's enjoying it somehow.

He uses the counterweighted part of the mop against his muscular body to swiftly go for her cheek, but Elektra prevents this foolish attack by dodging it majestically.

Spike's whole body stiffens at this point. He displays no sign of mercy, tensioning all his muscles and all his tonus Crane Stance power, concentrating his life against Elektra's might.

Elektra turns away her look, probably intimidated by Spike's fierceness.

Spike uses this opportunity to carefully almost strike Elektra, abd she lets out a high pitched gasp that also makes her blush in embarassment.

Spike couldn't resist any longer. Had he continued the fight against Elektra, he would probably give in to his animalistic desires and would lose his nectar against that woman. Spike used the gambit of the beginning of their fight in his favor now, running from her and her deadly presence.

Elektra does what he wanted, after all. She goes after him. Spike wanted to be held, not in a fight, but against her arms, tenderly. This probably wasn't the wisest move of his part, but at least he got to take a look at her armor... and her loaded gun.

"Stop or I'll sh-shoot!!!"

Though Spike didn't stop. He was too far beyond that now. At this point, all he knew was to run away from that powerful woman. He jumped what could as well be a bottomless cliff, way too far away from the deadly claws of Elektra.

And she herself didn't give a damn anymore about her duty. Fuck that. She went after him, to at least get his number, or better: to get between his legs.

#korean novel #japanese novel #novel

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imaginepirates · 4 years

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Loving and Loved

A third part to Scarred and Scared! For @kay-maybe, who wanted some more Beckett. Well, here you have it. Featuring: an incredible amount of self-consciousness and some tender treatment.

~3000 words

@paljonkaikenlaista @emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official

~~~~~~~

The weeks following your capture were pleasant. Beckett had certainly found a new use for you, and you were enjoying yourself more than you’d like to admit. He always had a hand on yours, and he would press light kisses to your knuckles or the back of your hand. Occasionally, when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d ask you to guide one of his hands to your cheek so he could kiss you there. Only when you were alone did he let you kiss him on the lips, and you could feel him smile when you did so.

Currently, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes, stretching in the morning sun that streamed through the curtains. You donned your usual robe; Beckett gave you robes of all colors and levels of scandal to wear around the house. You indulged him, even if he couldn’t see you. They were comfortable, and light in the Jamaican heat. You chose one of seafoam green with little white shells embroidered across it. Fitting, you thought, given your location.

Though Beckett owned a dining room, he hardly ever used it. You met him in his office during most mealtimes, unless he was meeting with somebody over food, which was the case more often than you might have liked.

You visited the kitchens to get a tray filled with breakfast foods before walking back to his office. You gave the door a little push with your hip and entered, setting the food on a table in the middle of the space. He hummed, acknowledging that you were there.

“I brought breakfast,” you told him.

He leaned back in his chair, looking up in your direction. “I can smell that. A good thing too, because all I’ve had is tea.”

“I figured as much.” He drank enough tea to fill an ocean. You walked over to him, helping him out of his chair and over to the table. He was getting better at walking, you noticed. It didn’t take him as long to move from place to place. Everything was slowly becoming easier for him, and you were glad to see it.

He yawned upon reaching his seat, and you handed him a pastry. “Will you keep me company this morning?” He asked.

“Of course.” You often did, simply sitting in a chair near him, reading a book, your hand over his. It was nice enough, and he always wore a small smile when you stayed.

“I’ve scheduled the servants to have tomorrow to themselves. They’ll be leaving this evening.” Beckett picked at his pastry, eating small chunks at a time.

It was the first time he’d scheduled a day off for his household servants, but you heard it wasn’t uncommon. Every month and a half or so, he’d give them a day entirely to themselves. That, of course, had been before his injury, when he’d been self-sufficient. You assumed you’d be staying with him, even if you didn’t consider yourself a servant.

“Will you be leaving as well?” he asked.

“Why would I? You need somebody to take care of you.”

“I’m sure I can find someone up to the task. Besides, you haven’t been able to properly explore the city since arriving here. It’s a beautiful city; don’t let me hinder you.”

You moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’re not a hindrance to me. Not you.”

He didn’t respond, nor did you expect him to. He was unused to your compliments and assurances, and you thought it possible that he didn’t quite believe them. Over the past few weeks, he’d been shocked by your kindness, and it had clearly shown. You pitied him a little for that. How he’d grown so unused to any kind of affection baffled you. Had it really been so long since somebody had cared for him?

You assumed, by the way things were now, that Beckett lived a solitary life. He was surrounded by his work and his domestics, but they weren’t people he shared his life with on a personal level. His thoughts and feelings were kept to himself, creating a lonely man.

You helped Beckett back to the chair at his desk. He’d have servants to read all the papers to him and write down his responses, so you could continue your regular routine of reading by his side. You sat with a copy of Macbeth, enjoying the soft sounds of the ocean from outside. Without his sight, Beckett was primarily concerned with sound, so he made sure windows were left open so he could hear things he couldn’t see. He was at his most calm when outside, listening to cicadas and birds during the early evening. You agreed that it was less stressful than the sounds of people, and less dull than the readings of documents.

Though you had learned, while reading, to block out the voices around you, you had a harder time ignoring your own thoughts. Lately, they had plagued you with nothing but worry and guilt. You’d been staying with Beckett for weeks with no knowledge of what was happening in the outside world. Sure, you could read the latest news from London and women’s fashion, but you wanted to know about your world. You wanted to know about piracy.

Every time you thought about it, a pang of guilt shot through your chest. You were living a life of luxury with Beckett to provide for you, the exact same luxury you’d so hated before. This sort of wealth went against your moral code. No one person should control so much, especially if they were controlling human lives in the process, one of the many things Beckett did on a daily basis. You worried that you were changing into a new person, somebody you shouldn’t be. You were getting accustomed to living with the enemy.

The enemy. Exactly what Beckett was, really. It hurt you to think so. You’d grown close with him- too close- and every minute with him drove you to insanity. You couldn’t decide if it was bad of you to love a person you knew was the enemy of your lifestyle. He was your opposite, and you’d been taught to hate his kind from a young age, but you found that his treatment of you was far better than most people’s. You were afraid of what this meant. If it meant giving up your old self, you weren’t sure you could stay, no matter how much you wanted to.

In truth, you were afraid of how close you were to him.

Evening came, and the servants were dismissed. You hadn’t been paying attention to the time, distracted with reading. Dinner came and went, and it came time to retire to your rooms. The house was strangely quiet with nobody but the two of you, and it felt entirely too big.

You took Beckett back to his room, unsure of what to do next. With no servants to help him, you weren’t sure he could do everything himself. You were a bit nervous about leaving him alone; he had a tendency to try doing things he shouldn’t, and you were afraid he would hurt himself. He was too stubborn to admit he needed help with things, so you weren’t sure if you should bother asking him if he wanted you to stay.

As if to prove your point, he fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat, unsuccessfully struggling to rid himself of it. You pushed his hands aside, unbuttoning it yourself. He protested slightly, but you undid the waistcoat and set it on a chair.

“I can do that myself, you know,” he grumbled.

“I know you can, but I can help you. For convenience’s sake.”

“I have to be allowed to do something myself.”

You sighed. “I know it makes you feel better to do things yourself. I just want to help you. You’re taking care of me here, and I want to care for you in return.” So saying, you pulled at the ties on his undershirt, letting the top hang open.

“You’re rather eager to undress me, aren’t you?” A smirk played across his lips. “Shouldn’t you at least be taking your time with me?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You had your fingers tucked around the bottom of his shirt, tugging it upwards to get it over his head.

Beckett’s fingers closed around your wrists, keeping your hands in place. You were startled by the quickness of his movements. He stared uncomfortably at the floor, lips pursed. You hadn’t thought he would mind your helping him, but his face said otherwise. You found yourself feeling a little hurt.

“I can do the rest myself,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t quite understand his reluctance. He’d just been flirting with you the moment before, even though you’d meant the act as being nothing but helpful. “I hope I didn’t overstep anything.”

“No, no,” he assured you. “I would just rather you not see.”

“See what?” You were thoroughly confused. You’d taken off his shirt before, in the lighthouse, to apply salve to his burns. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before.

“The burns. The scars. The obvious signs of age and the… eating habits of the upper class.” He continued to stare at the floor, as if he would see disappointment or horror on your face if he looked. As if he already could.

“Cutler.” You spoke softly, but he flinched as if you’d hit him. “I’ve seen it all before. There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”

“I was unconscious then, so I didn’t have to deal with your reaction. I admit, I care about your opinion of me too much now.”

His admission took you by surprise. “You don’t think I’m judging you, do you?”

“Everyone else has.”

“Well, I’m not everyone else.” You cupped his cheek, running your thumb across it lightly, tracing over his scars. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, pausing to whisper his name. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s said it, hasn’t it?”

He hummed his agreement. “It sounds sweeter on your tongue than it ever did on anyone else’s.”

You blushed a little. He still got to you, sometimes. Most of the time, actually, but you’d never admit it. “Do you trust me?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

You slipped a hand under his shirt, lightly tracing over his chest and stomach. He stiffened, and his breath hitched, making you smile. “Have you let someone do this to you before?”

“I was considerably younger.” One of his hands came to rest in your hair, his fingers tangled in it.

When you finally lifted his shirt over his head, he gasped faintly, just enough for you to hear. He crossed his arms over his chest in what you guessed was an attempt to hide himself.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” you whispered. You rested your hands on his chest as his arms fell to his sides. You stared for a moment at the burns covering his body before you kissed him. He let you do so eagerly, returning the kiss with a searing one of his own.

You both pulled away a moment later, and his hands came to rest on your waist. “Are you sure you want this?” He sounded more vulnerable and unsure than you’d ever heard him.

“I make it a point not to do things I don’t want to. As it stands, you have all my attention.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, you came together again, your mouths hungry for one another. He pulled you close, fingers pressing firmly into your sides, holding you in place. You smiled into your kisses; if he liked anything, he liked control.

He kissed you desperately, his body pressed flush against yours. The sensation was both overwhelming and delightful. You let your hands wander to his back, feeling his scars there. Your fingers found thin scars among them, clearly caused by something other than his burns.

“What happened?” you whispered between kisses, your fingers tracing the scar.

“Pirates.” Beckett took a shaky breath. “I was eighteen. My ship was taken by a pirate, and he had no trouble bestowing his gifts,” he said bitterly.

Things began to make sense. No wonder Beckett hated pirates so much. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your doing.” And, as if reading your mind, he added, “I don’t hate you for who you are. I know you’re still a pirate at heart. But you’ve shown me the most tenderness I’ve ever known.”

“I hope to continue doing so,” you answered. You lightly traced his burns with a finger. “You should get some sleep.”

“I suppose.” He made no move towards the bed, instead preferring to let your fingers wander over his skin. “Will you join me?” Too embarrassed to answer, you stood trying to form words that you couldn’t quite find. You knew your face must be burning red.

“I only mean to sleep.”

You gave an inward sigh of relief. Kissing him had been enough excitement for the evening. You weren’t sure you should do too many firsts at once. You agreed to stay, helping him to the bed and climbing in next to him. The experience was new to you, and you were unsure of what to do. Thankfully, Beckett answered your question by wrapping an arm around you when you laid down, pulling you closer to him. Your back was pressed against his chest. You considered, briefly, how indecent it was to wear nothing but a silk robe while in bed with him, but you ignored the intrusive thoughts, instead focusing on his arm around you.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

You did, drifting off comfortably with Beckett next to you.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains when you woke, and you turned over to find Beckett still asleep against you. He rubbed his eyes as you rolled over, letting go of your waist. You stretched out on the bed, then turned your attention to your bedmate. Beckett sat up sleepily, his short hair sticking up from his head. Yours wasn’t any better, you knew, but you laughed all the same.

“And I’m sure your hair is perfectly styled,” he said after you explained your amusement.

“I’m sure mine’s a mess. Worse than yours, because it’s longer.”

“Shame I can’t see it. I suppose I could feel it, if I liked.” His fingers curled into your hair, and he tugged you forward suddenly, kissing you. You could feel his smirk against your lips.

“You’re wicked,” you breathed.

“So I’ve been told.” He pushed himself up to sit beside you and groped around his bedside table. “I don’t suppose you can see where my nightshirt went to.”

You rolled out of bed, snatching the shirt up from off the floor where you’d left it. You handed it to Beckett, who pulled it over his head, and you sat on the edge of the bed. “Should we go to breakfast? The servants will be back by now.” You were starving, having only picked at your dinner the night before. Then, in a more panicked tone, “should I leave before they find us together like this? They might think….”

“Oh, bugger what they think. And what of it? You’re no lady, no socially important woman. There would be no scandal anyway.”

“I am a pirate. A few of them know that, anyway.”

“All the better.” He stretched and patted the sheets next to him. “I don’t have to meet anyone until later this morning. Come back to bed for a while longer.”

You slid back under the sheets. You remained sitting, but found that the covers kept your legs warm while you were in your robe. Beckett’s hand found yours, intertwining your fingers. His hands were warm, and he rubbed little circles into the back of your hand with a thumb.

“Do you like it here?” He asked softly.

You hesitated. Of course you did, but your thoughts wouldn’t leave you. Somehow, this was wrong, no matter how much you enjoyed Beckett’s company. “I do,” you answered after a moment.

Beckett frowned. “Something’s bothering you.” He swallowed. “You can always tell me if my affection is uncomfortable.”

You almost rolled your eyes. Wasn’t I the one who took off his shirt? “It’s not you,” you assured him. “I just….miss my old life. I feel like I’m betraying it, somehow.”

“Listen to me.” He cupped your cheek, turning your face to look him in his milky eyes. “You owe that part of your life nothing. You’re allowed to grow, and change, and do new things. The old part of you doesn’t have to die for you to add more to yourself. You can be the same person you’ve always been, and you can have new things, too. You aren’t defined by one thing, and you can’t be blamed for staying with me. Why turn away comfort and security? It costs you nothing. I’m not asking for anything in return, so why leave? Nobody would blame you. You’re not doing the wrong thing.”

“It goes against everything I’ve ever known,” you admitted.

“Then learn something new. Learn that you aren’t betraying yourself by choosing a new path. And you don’t have to stay here, if you don’t wish to.”

“If I left, I’d be leaving you behind.”

“Yes. I’d rather you stay, of course.” Then, softly, “I do love you.”

You pulled him closer, giving him a light kiss. “I know. Don’t think I would have stayed here so long if I didn’t love you in return.”

His eyes went wide, and you couldn’t help finding his surprise to be adorable. “Oh.”

“Have I not made it obvious?”

“I didn’t want to assume.” A smile lit up his face. “You won’t mind staying in our current arrangement, then?”

“I’d like nothing better.”

You’d found a good life for yourself with him, you realized. Strange, but good.

#potc #pirate #pirates #pirates of the caribbean #beckett #cutler beckett #x reader #request #requests #writing #drabble #drabbles

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evilmortys · 4 years

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Have you ever talked about/drawn/ have head among about c-136’s rick? His relationship w/ his family and morty? Is her better than other ricks or worse? Etc!

i’ve never talked about rick c-136 much extensively come to think of it! so i hope you don’t mind if i use this ask as an opportunity to ramble about him and their dynamic and their dimension in general a little. it’s quite divergent from what’s typical for a rick and morty dynamic in places, i think.

first off i wanna lead with: morty c-136 is sixteen! so his summer is of course older too, and is now living away from home and attending college. he misses her a lot, but they still call a few times a week and bitch about their parents and what’s going on in their lives and bully each other a lot. she comes home sometimes, usually for holidays such as thanksgiving or whatever. they’re overly sappy for a minute max upon reuniting, then she’s kicking him in the balls and he’s calling her a dumb bitch.

his mom and dad are divorced, and have been since he was ten, so jerry is not really in the picture. rick is very relieved about this and hates jerry about as much as is typical for bastard grandpas. morty was sad about their messy break up, but very quickly came to understand it was for the best. there’s a security system rick set up to kick jerry to the curb if he ever comes around, much to morty’s aggravation, but it’s not put to much use anyway. (usually he walks over to his dad’s sad studio apartment of his own volition for custody weekend instead of being picked up, because his dad sleeps until late noon, so. not exactly a dependable ride. if he goes himself he can shake jerry awake at a reasonable hour and ... try to shake some sense into him too. so he doesn’t come to the house much.)

c-136′s rick has a complex relationship with his beth. she’s still very much wrapped up in his opinion of her and works to please, impress and ultimately attain his attention whenever she can. an easy way to do this is back rick up when morty backtalks him. if morty angrily says “shut the fuck up, rick” within earshot of his mother, she’s very quick to fly to her father’s defence as apposed to her son’s- “morty, don’t speak to my dad like that!” rick plays off this, recognizing an opportunity to make beth feel like it’s them versus morty, and says “thank you, sweetie.” the two then delve into conversation about how morty is “out of hand” as if he’s not even there, which understandably infuriates him further.

it hurts him a lot that his mom is so desperate to feel like her and her dad get along, and for him to acknowledge her existence, that she’ll invalidate his feelings and bitch about his behavior with rick to get it. he very much feels like his mom values having a positive relationship with her dad over him as a result. morty continues to love and care about her even in spite of the fact that it feels largely nonreciprocal at the best of times, but can come across quite cold, dismissive and clearly subconsciously angry with beth when talking about her at times as a result. don’t get me wrong, they go see the occasional movie together and morty helps her out preparing dinner very often. he cares deeply about his mom and he loves her, of course he does, but he's also felt incredibly estranged from her for most of his life. if nothing else, they can always at least bond over an eyeroll at one of his dad's latest fuck ups or stupid statuses on facebook. there’s some stuff about his childhood i could tack in here that’s relevant, but i’m very conscious of how long this is and i haven’t even talked about rick and morty’s dynamic yet ... adjaskjdfaksf sorry!

her alcoholism worries morty whereas rick seems a little indifferent to it, or considers it not a big deal. likely because he knows it invites accusations of hypocrisy if he calls out her self destruction via these vices.

in the past, morty’s tried talking with her, watering down and pouring out her alcohol stashes, and even pleaded for rick try and make her see reason- to no avail. (his grandpa ended up cracking a joke about what a fucking buzzkill morty is, they laughed it off together, and they both went out for, you guessed it, a fucking drink, or more likely ten of them, directly after the fact.)

right now, beth c-136 has been seeing a bartender for eleven months. rick seems to idly approve of him- at the very least, doesn’t hate him like he did jerry, which delights beth. her father deeming anything in her life a good choice means everything to her because she fights so hard to impress him while also trying not to look overtly clingy and needy, because that seems to repel him. also, he’s her genius father who doesn’t like anyone, so how the hell can his judgement be wrong, right? him approving of this guy has locked him into her life for the forseeable future. again, this pisses morty off, because this bartender guy encourages his mom’s worst vice of daydrinking with his job and lifestyle. he makes her happy, but he’s the fucking worst, and it makes morty want to tear his hair out. him and summer frequently snipe about the guy in private. sharing distaste for their parents’ prospective partners is very valid bonding they think.

c-136 rick and morty's relationship is emotionally flexible at the best of times. some days, so very rarely, they get along just great.

to name one wholesome headcanon before we Get Into It. occasionally, rick will pretend to know absolutely jack shit about one of the plants in morty’s greenhouse just to let him go off about it and suddenly seem excitably sure of himself for about twenty minutes of nonstop infodumping. 95% of the time he knows absolutely everything about the plant he’s asking about, actually, and on some level morty is absolutely aware of it. the smartest man in the universe apparently doesn’t know what a flaxtius olcum is? right. but ... he still appreciates the gesture a lot, and it cheers him up after a shitshow adventure.

it's not too clear what allows these occasions of treating one another with basic respect and almost fondness to arise- maybe his grandfather's in an uncommonly gracious mood, maybe they're playing minecraft or bashing animal crossing together, maybe they're snickering and exchanging incredulous glances during some cartoonishly evil alien's monologue of a plan as it's dictated to them in painstaking detail … regardless, those come around less and less often, these days.

rick secretly considers morty to be very capable and alarmingly more competent as of late, and he's not sure whether to feel almost proud or work to scramble to unravel all this progress lest morty start pulling away from him and revelling in his own independence.

they're a kickass duo when adventuring, very in sync. morty's less of a whiny burden or wide-eyed, unremarkable sidekick, and more of a borderline asset at this point. which again, makes rick feel very conflicted over how that skews their dynamic in a way that's less favorable for him, because morty doesn't need to lean on him as heavily or stick as close anymore. but at the same time, there’s less inherent risk of him dying while they adventure, because he handles himself so well. they can split up as needed to get shit done faster. morty frequently solo adventures, or as he calls it, “runs rick’s goddamn errands, actually.” he’s outgrown the concept of getting to choose an adventure and instead claims the portal gun every twelve adventures they have together, and goes off for one of his own.

morty speaks his mind very bluntly with rick and isn't really afraid to tell him to get fucked when he's being an unreasonable dick. he resents rick immensely for putting him down and pushing him around all the time.

morty's more assertive, yet still very much resigned to their irrefutably imbalanced companionship ; there are countless factors as to why. but primarily, it tends to boil down to feeling like he owes a lot to rick. were it not for his presence in his life, morty knows deep down that he wouldn't be half as interesting or even marginally as intelligent as he's capable of being now. he’d still be stupid, and mediocre, and uninteresting. unremarkable. unworthy of anyone’s attention or time because of how dull he is.

he's at a point where (to an extent) he feels distant from his life on earth at the best of times, because space and the infinite multiverse has encompassed his daily life for so long and on some level, he handles himself far better fighting for his life on the edge of the universe than trapped in a school full of sweaty teenagers and material he either blitzes through or can barely grasp. plus, rick was the closest thing he ever had to a friend while he was growing up. morty cares about rick, even if the older constantly cites reasons as to why attachment is moronic and sentiment is stupid, and he's aware that rick has come to care for him too- even if all his pointed jabs about not giving a shit and aloof front makes it hard to believe that all the time.

the issue is, once morty seems to waver in feeling that he has to constantly acquiesce to rick and falters in tolerating rick as an result of this obligated feeling of familial love, no matter how slightly, rick then begins to exert control over their relationship by other means, such as emotionally manipulating, gaslighting and outright blackmailing him to keep him in line with what he wants out of their dynamic: rick and morty, a hundred years, the only two people in the infinite multiverse that truly matter- theretofore, they should both solely consider one another as important, and worthwhile. he's willing to tarnish any other connections morty might form beyond their duo for fear of losing him.

he grows out of this irrational attachment a little more each time his grandfather lets him down, disillusions him ever further, hurts him or traumatizes him or actively fucking experiments on him- slowly but surely. he'll snap, in some sense, sometime. when exactly can't be known. what precise actions he might take to pry himself free of their codependent dynamic is unclear. but the way things are headed, the two of them splintering apart is inevitable, and it's unlikely to be an amicable thing at all. rick often actively renounces and appears repulsed by the very concept of familial love and basic attachment, constantly rants and raves in his drunken stupors about how replaceable everyone in his life is, and it's hard for morty to bite his tongue when he's behaving like that.

he just hates that he feels badly about himself and second guesses himself around rick. strangely enough, when he’s having to push through crazy shit alone, he does fine. great, even. sure, he’s freaking out, making everything up as he goes along, and secretly wishing rick was around to guide him out of the chaos because he knows in his heart rick would probably do it smarter. but once he’s with rick, he feels incapable and stupid beside him. like, being apart from him makes him feel so much lighter, allows him to lean on the intelligence he very much does possess, without being berated, second guessing it, and reminded it’ll never match up to rick’s, so there’s really no point in even trying.

#also fun fact: morty's very first mindblower was from when he was 14 and reverse engineered the whole ass portal gun #and rick absolutely flipped his shit and lowkey freaked out and erased the whole incident #BUT. HE THINKS ABOUT IT FUCKIN. OFTEN.#THE LIQUID IS WHAT'S HARD TO RECONSTRUCT. NOT SO MUCH THE GUN.#BUT IT WAS STILL... HE JUST. WHAT THE FUCK. HOW THE FUCK.#why is his morty. LIKE THAT.#feral and too smart/cocky for his own fuckin good!!!#I DON'T EVEN THINK THIS IS EVERYTHING IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG FDJFG FUCK??#i really did go off..... cringe.....#alex answers!#long post cw #I DONT WANT TO GIVE AWAY LIKE EVERYTHING BC #ONE DAY I MIGHT GET MY SHIT 2GETHER AND WRITE HIS FIC #BUT... YEAH-#Anonymous #c136!

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