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forthemorefortunate · 3 years

Text

Live Like Animals

Nessian Modern AU

Merry Chris- er, happy New Year to my secret snowflake! @ncssian 💕😅

I hope you like the fic! I’ll be honest, when I filled out the application for the secret snowflake, I said I could make a fic believing that it was very unlikely somebody would ask for one 🥴🤔 But lemme say, I LOVED writing this, which is definitely something I didn’t expect. More than that, I’ve never been much of a Nesta or Nessian fan, but actually thinking through their characters and interactions for this fic gave me a whole new perspective on and appreciation for them (even if I’m not the best at writing their characters, aha), so thank you!

A few quick things about the fic:

(Ik I already told you this, but for anybody else reading this aha) This is my first fic! So please take it easy on me 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Okay so this part is kind of weird, but there’s kind of a corresponding playlist 😅 Each part is named after a song. You can play the songs while reading or not, I know for me personally (*cough* my ADHD ass) it’s hard to listen to music and read at the same time. The title is also the name of a song! Except that one is more random, haha (I couldn’t think of a title, so I shuffled my entire library and chose the first song as the title, and it kinda worked so I went with it)

One more quick thing – thanks to @moussescientist @ko0mbayamylord @blxckbeak @chanberry @mikitheswiftie @potatoburp @dead-on-the-inside666 @queenoffortunes and two anons for answering a question, and a HUGE thanks to Skye, @oneoutofamillionbooklovers for all your help and for roleplaying the parts I got stuck on with me ❤️

Part 1: Distant Early Warning (Rush)

Nesta pulled the dress over her head, letting it slide into place over her body. Screw this, she thought for the millionth time, yet she continued to get herself ready, turning to glance at her reflection when she was finished. She raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly at the woman looking back through the mirror. The woman Nesta spied had on a satin slip dress, darkest blue. She wore no jewelry save for the small silver studs in her ears, and her hair was pulled into a neat-yet-simple updo.

Why Nesta even agreed to go to this party she didn’t know. There was nothing different about it, just another college booze fest. The music would be too loud, the air too heavy, the guys too grabby, and the company too... clubby. Feyre insisted that she would fit right into her friend group – her clique – but Nesta wasn’t sure she wanted that. She padded over to the door of her apartment. No, Nesta was quite certain that “fitting in” with Feyre’s newfound friends was something she didn’t care for at all.

Nesta’s phone buzzed on her kitchen counter as she slipped on a pair of black heels, and she picked up to Feyre’s forcibly perky voice. “Hey! We just pulled up, you coming?”

“No.” Response blunt, tone dry. The line was silent for a long moment, and Nesta held in a sigh. “Did I give you the impression that I was interested in coming?”

“Nesta, I’m not in the mood for fucking around,” Feyre said, perkiness mysteriously faded now. “It’s just one party! I promise you’ll have fun.” Bullshit.

“Since when have I ever-”

“And everyone else really wants you to come, too!” Feyre cut her off, “Rhys is excited to meet you!”

Rhys. Feyre’s boyfriend. Nesta groaned inwardly, truly dreading any interaction with the rugby star. Feyre had immediately caught the eye of the local heartthrob, and the two began a serious relationship shortly after meeting. And with one came the others. In high school they would have been labeled “popular.” They were quite possibly the closest group of friends at the college, almost all of them having known each other since childhood. And Feyre had slipped right in among them. Nesta had warned Feyre against making the tight pack of fourth-years her main group of friends, and she had her own opinions about a freshman dating a senior, but Feyre didn’t make a habit of following Nesta’s advice. Rather, she seemed to think she could give Nesta – a third-year – much more valuable guidance. Domineering bitch.

“I don’t give a shit about your friends, Feyre. I’m only coming because of our deal,” Nesta said. Feyre had been pestering her all semester, spewing crap about how Nesta and Feyre should spend more time together. Nesta should get out more. Nesta should tag along with Feyre’s friend group. Nesta should have some fun.

More bullshit.

As second semester began, Feyre had proposed a deal: Nesta would go to one party with Feyre and her buddies, and if she honestly didn’t enjoy it, Feyre would stop asking her to join them.

“I’m on my way. Let’s just get it over with,” Nesta grumbled, and with that, she hung up the phone and opened the apartment door.

Part 2: Can You Afford to Be An Individual? (Nothing but Thieves

Nesta looked around the group of fourth-years–plus Feyre–arranged in front of her. Introductions were unnecessary; you couldn’t attend this school without knowing who they were. Her eyes fell first upon Rhys, his arm around Feyre’s waist. His chin lifted slightly as she made eye contact. Rhys: double major in history and foreign policy. President of the astrology club. Captain of the rugby team, possibly one of the best players the school had ever seen. He was the group leader, though nobody said it aloud. Nesta knew him well. Perhaps she only knew his type well, or her own perception of his type, but that didn’t keep her from holding his gaze a few moments longer than would be comfortable. Then she turned her scrutiny on his sidekicks, so she called them, Cassian and Azriel. The former wore jeans and a baggy black jacket over his rugby uniform in the school colors: black and red. The latter wore black pants with a dark blue button-down shirt untucked.

Cassian smirked as her eyes met his. “Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he drawled. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his smile widened in response. Cocky bastard. Azriel, double majoring in political science and criminology, simply nodded at her in greeting.

After the sidekicks came Rhys’s cousin Mor, an architecture major with a minor in design. She was entirely too peppy in a way that left Nesta exhausted, but Nesta wouldn’t give her satisfaction by scoffing at her cocked hip and half-grin, ostensibly projecting confidence. She held Mor’s stare, matching her asserted confidence with a cool security in her own assets. The half-smile twisted, just slightly, and Nesta moved on to the short girl farthest to the right: Amren.

Amren scared people. As in, people were genuinely freaked out by her. Aside from a few cultish tendencies, her occasional propensity for violence and/or verbal outbursts, and her sharp expression, though, Nesta couldn’t tell why. Amren majored in gemology and minored in linguistics, and was the only one in the group other than Feyre to have not known the others since they were little. In fact, she was studying here from abroad, though nobody actually knew where she was from. Unlike Mor, Amren presented a confidence that Nesta could believe in and respect. Nesta maintained her chilled posture, but let the bite in her expression retreat.

As for Feyre’s introducing Nesta, that was unnecessary as well. They all knew her; most upperclassmen did. Or rather they knew of her, by the name of heinous bitch. If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t mind the nickname.

“Okay,” Feyre started, her voice expectant as she tilted her chin to look at Rhys’s face, “Let’s head in?” Feyre, Rhys, and Nesta had met up with the rest of the group in the parking lot before they entered the party. Fashionably late, Feyre had told her on the drive in Rhys’s tesla. Rhys taught me that the key to maintaining his public image is in making grand entrances. God, Nesta wanted to laugh at Rhys’s influence over her.

As they entered the building holding the party Nesta immediately stiffened, and had to close her eyes for a moment against the harsh blue and purple lights cast by PAR cans. All senses at once were smacked by the presence of weed. The floor was vibrating, and speakers blasted near-deafening music so that all Nesta could really hear was thunder. Jesus Christ, I hate parties, she thought. A mass of sweaty bodies shifted and bounced through the too-heavy air ahead of her, some only silhouettes in the murky haze, through which Nesta saw red solo cups littering every possible surface. Suddenly she noticed Feyre standing next to her, fidgeting with her clutch and looking over expectantly. Nesta shot her a withering look that said, “This is not what we agreed to.” Feyre had the nerve to look guilty.

“Okay before you say anything,” Feyre began, “I know that look, and... I know this is a bit bigger than we talked about-”

“A bit?! This is a rager, Feyre. Do I look like I rage?”

“Okay no, but I promise Rhys and I have a plan.” Oh my God.

Nesta gave her another glare and plucked a cup off a nearby table. Sniffing it, she sighed and took a big swig. “Please, my dearest sister, do tell.”

“We’re going with a buddy system.”

Nesta coughed. “A buddy system – are you fucking kidding me?” She spied Rhys and his dickhead friends in the corner of her eye. “Wow, are arts and crafts before or after beer pong?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, calling a fresh wave of frustration to roll over Nesta. “Can you shut it with the attitude, Nesta? I already apologized for the crowd of people – it kind of got out of hand. Rhys told me before we left but I didn’t want to scare you out of coming.” She gave Nesta a pleading look.

“Tch, whatever. Who’s my buddy? I assume you’ll be with Rhys?”

Feyre beamed at her. “You’re paired up with Cassian!”

“Cassian.” Great. Alpha dickhead.

“Don’t be like that. He knows his way around these things and he’ll keep you from accidentally overdosing or blacking out.”

“Who said that wasn’t my intention?”

Feyre scrunched her face up. “Either way, you can’t deny that he’s bigger and taller than half the creepy guys here. He’ll keep unwanted attention away.”

Nesta watched as Rhys, lead hulking rugby bro dickhead, caught sight of her sister and eyed her with what might have been lust or love – Nesta couldn’t decide. Cassian, approaching from Rhys’s side, cut Nesta a slow, purposeful look down and back up to her face. She felt an annoying tingle down her spine as the crowds parted for them. This was going to be a long night.

Part 3: Inhaler (Foals)

They had been at the party for less than ten minutes and Nesta already wanted to leave. Drink in hand, she aimlessly wandered around the outskirts of the crowd, hoping to find a place to sit farther from the lights that drowned out any rational thought that flashed through her brain. Cassian trailed a few steps behind.

“So, what do you do for fun?”

She twisted around to glare at him. “Why are you talking to me?”

Cassian puffed out a laugh and spread his arms wide, responding, “If you don’t recall, we’re kind of stuck together, darling.”

Right. Nesta rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?” Cassian left the question hanging, still following her, so she forged on. “I like to read. A concept that’s probably foreign to you.” She dodged a young couple parting from the fray to make out against the wall, and paused to reorient herself.

“You might be surprised.” Nesta groaned inwardly and arched a brow. “Oh I have no doubt.”

“None at all?”

“What. Are you on volume seven of Captain Underpants?”

“Volume eight, actually.”

Nesta stopped. She was pissed. Pissed at this party, pissed at Feyre for lying about how big it was, pissed that she was stuck with rugby bro sidekick, pissed that the purple lights suddenly seemed a lot brighter, the music a lot louder, her thoughts a lot fuzzier. “Look, Cassian. I only came here as a favor to my sister. We’re not friends.” He started to cut her off, but she continued, turning so that they fully faced each other, “You don’t have to stay, I can take care of myself.”

He leaned in close, the laughter in his tone suddenly gone. “Listen, princess. You’ve had two beers and you’re already tipsy. I get it, we’re not friends. But there are at least four guys looking at you like they want to take you against the nearest surface and I’m the only man within a thirty-foot radius that has any self-control. There’s no way I’m leaving.” He held her gaze firmly.

“So that’s it – I’m just supposed to trust you? My knight in shining armor, here to protect my virtue? That ship sailed a long time ago.” Fuck it. “I wouldn’t mind taking you for a ride though,” Nesta said, flashing a smirk at the end.

Cassian’s lips twisted into a half-grin, but she could see annoyance rising up in his eyes. “Nesta, you don’t wanna play with me.”

“Brute.” Nesta turned and started walking away again.

“Bitch.” He followed.

Nesta scoffed. “How original.”

“Not all of us are English Lit majors.”

Somehow Nesta tripped on her own foot at that moment, staggering sideways into Cassian’s path. He lunged forward, arms going around her waist to hoist her upright. Her lip curled and she spit out, “And not all of us are rugby stars,” and shoved her way out of his arms.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cassian asked, incredulous.

“Cassian, I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love your attention. But I’m not one of them.” She turned around to face him, walking backwards, and almost tripped again. “So go on and play with someone else. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” With that, Nesta thrust herself into the fray, pushing her way through the mass of shouting people, making the crowd a barrier between herself and Cassian.

Part 4: Emergency (Nothing but Thieves)

After five minutes of random college students bumping into her from every direction, her head pounding and thoughts muddled, Nesta realized she didn’t know which direction the exit was in. Fuck. She was disoriented and exasperated, her frustration now showing in her usually unshakable expression. She couldn’t even tell which direction the light was coming from. How many beers had she drunk? Two? Three? She wasn’t usually a drinker, and it hit her then that she hadn’t eaten for hours before the party started. Stupid, she thought. This was why she didn’t do parties.

She was so distracted trying to figure out where the light source was, trying to get her bearings at least, that she didn’t catch sight of a brooding figure wending its way toward her until the man had a hold of her wrist and was pulling her to the side of the room, wherever that was.

“Hey! Get the fuck off me!” Nesta shouted over the crowd, but couldn’t get a response from the man until they found one of the cinder block walls.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice cruel as he tried to pull her closer. “We’re just having a bit of fun, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta ripped free of his grasp, but he backed her into a corner. He had a drink in one hand. Not good.

“Hey, hey, no need to get worked up,” he drawled, “I saw the way you were looking at me.” Looking at him? Nesta thought. This was the first she’d seen of him.

Nesta tried to step to the side, but the man followed her, his senses keener than hers in her condition. He reached out for her arm again, and Nesta shouted this time. “Don’t touch me!”

He put his hand up as if in innocence. “Come now, I’ll make it fun for you. Just have a drink.” He brought the cup toward her face, his hand now reaching behind her head, which she snatched away.

“I swear to God, can’t you bastards understand that no means no?”

“You-”

“Get the fuck away from me, creep!” She aimed a kick at his groin, but he easily dodged it.

His mouth hardened into a line, and he growled, “Just take the damn drink, bitch!”

The man shoved her into the corner, her head hitting the wall. He brought his hand up to hold her back by her shoulders as he brought the cup up toward her lips and-

“Let me go or I promise you’ll regret it.” Last resort.

He shot her a crooked grin and began to reply, but whatever response he had in mind was cut short.

A voice from behind him said, “And she never goes back on a promise, asshole.” The man was wrenched off her body by two strong hands, and pulled over to the side to give her an out, which she quickly took advantage of.

And there, dragging the man away from her, was Cassian.

The creep tried to play it cool. “Hey, Cassian, bro, what’s up, man?” he said mock-casually, “I caught your last game! great playing, dude!” His demeanor shifted completely as he turned on his bro mode.

Cassian’s jaw was set. He tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder, his stare withering. “You need to leave. Right now.”

Yet the man kept going with a smirk, “It’s all good bro, we can share.”

That was a step too far.

Cassian grabbed the man’s shirt, pulling him close. “That’s the thing – I don’t share. I don’t play nice.” Cassian thrust his face forward so they were only a couple inches apart. “You said you caught my last game, right? So you know I don’t go down without a fight. Touch her again and you’ll regret it.” With that, he shoved the guy into a table, and turned to Nesta. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Part 5: Before We Drift Away (Nothing but Thieves)

Dizzy and shaken, Nesta let Cassian guide her through the crowd to the exit. Once they were outside in the cool night air, he pulled her aside, gaze dark.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did he force you to drink whatever was in that cup?”

“No.”

His eyes closed and relief flooded across his face. “Good. God, some people are fucked up. I don’t know what I would have done if he had drugged you, or taken you away, or...” He trailed off, leaving anything further than that unsaid.

They were silent for a minute. Nesta looked up at him, a bit of worry still etched across his features. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care so much?”

He looked over to her, something strange in his expression that Nesta couldn’t place. “I don’t know. You’re a human being, and your safety was left in my hands.” He paused and looked away. “If I’m being honest, when I saw that guy put his hands on you... I don’t know. Something flipped inside me.” At that moment he looked down to her bare shoulders, noticing that she was beginning to shiver. “You’re cold,” he said softly. “Here, take this.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, even when she protested.

Nesta frowned as she gave in and pulled his jacket tightly around her, annoyed at the way her body betrayed her. “I don’t need protection. I’ve lived a long time without people to care about me.” She started walking toward the parking lot, and he followed.

“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Nesta. You’ve been pushing me away all night, but listen to me – don’t you understand? I’m not just talking to you because I’m bored. I don’t smile at you as a game, as if you’re some prize for me to win. Can’t you see by now that I’m doing literally everything I can just to stay by your side? Damn it, I asked Feyre to pair us together at the party.”

Nesta had stopped walking and was speechless for once.

Cassian stepped closer tentatively, as though she’d back away. He ran a finger over Nesta’s wrist and looked up to the sky. “Please, just don’t make me say anything else completely insane. I promise I’m not in the habit of sharing intense moments with perfect strangers.”

A rush of anger coursed through Nesta, and she shoved him back. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t talk to me like that. Despite what you must think, I’m not an idiot. I’m not naive. I am well aware that this is all a favor to my sister. Stay with my lame, antisocial sister. It might be fun, right?” She paused, any restraint she had used earlier having completely abandoned her.

“That’s not what I think at all, Nes-”

“Fuck you, Cassian.” She shoved him again, more aggressively this time.

Cassian caught her wrists and pulled her closer. “Try that again.”

Nesta glared. “Bite me,” she spit out.

“Maybe I will.”

And as though drawn to her by some gravitational force, Cassian’s mouth came crashing down onto hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, seeming to lift her off her feet. Nesta’s bare skin burned where Cassian touched her, and she pushed back against his touch to gain control. Everything, every thought was fading to nothing. Biting down on his lip drew out a low groan from Cassian, and Nesta broke free.

Cassian put his hands up as though to make a barrier between them, as though he wouldn’t be able to control himself without it.

“So much for being the only man with self-control,” Nesta said. Cassian just shook his head, earning a light snort from Nesta. “I shut everyone out--even pretty jocks like you. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

Cassian smiled his easy smile, and he reached up to touch his lips with a thumb. “You think I’m pretty?”

Nesta scoffed. “The prettiest.”

He stood there for a moment, just smiling at her, before turning back toward the parking lot. “Okay, princess, allow me to introduce you to the pinnacle of after-party activities.”

Nesta raised a brow, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about pancakes.”

She looked skeptical. “Pancakes?”

“Yes. And after the night you had, you deserve an entire plate of them.” Cassian reached out to her with his big, warm hand, and Nesta hesitated.

“Cassian-” She started warily.

“Hey – I’m not asking you to marry me, it’s just pancakes.”

Nesta waited a moment more, then took his hand. “Fine. But I’m not sharing the chocolate sauce.”

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to. Besides, you already know how I feel about sharing.”

Nesta smiled a bit. “Hey Cassian?

“Yes Nesta?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

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coquuin · 5 years

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u bet ur fuckin ass im sending myself an ask meme bc fuck you no one else will so shit SOMEONE gotta. all the questions for Ezekiel bay bee

the amount of fucks that i do not give is unreal

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

well shit both of Ezekiel’s parents died when he was 3 so obviously he hardly has any memories of them, but! Ezekiel’s father was.. fucking hilarious! the dude had an amazing sense of humor–mightve been a stand up comedian, although not a huge known one?? he was always smiling and just trying to make people laugh! especially loved to make his son laugh the most.

so as you can easily imagine, 3-year-old Ezekiel obviously loved his father. i mean, why wouldnt he. although now that his father is long dead and ezekiel has pretty much forgotten him by this point, his opinion towards what very little he DOES remember of his dad is just like.. “why were you so fucking happy all the time? what was there to be happy about?” but, like i said, seeing as Ezekiel has completely forgotten him, he’s pretty neutral on him and doesnt really have much of an opinion.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

opinion wise, it’s the exact same deal as his father–seeing as both parents died at the same time. so he neither dislikes or likes her! hes just neutral.

however, as for her personality, she was honestly like the polar opposite of the dad. she was calm and collected, and a little intense. a very blunt woman who would not be afraid to call you out on your bullshit! sort of like Ezekiel now actually :) a lot of her mannerisms and personality traits literally resemble Ezekiel to a T, which he obviously doesnt even realize seeing as his mom has been, yknow, dead for all his life. but underneath that tough exterior, she was a very sweet woman! she was probably a doctor tbh.

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

IN THE CULT.. it was like a literal living hell and EXTREMELY strict. which is exactly what this cult wanted! seeing as it was a Satanic cult especially. BUT UHHH.. i cant go too in depth on how everything was like in that orphanage, but if you REALLY wanna know all the gross details literally just do some research on Satanism or Satanic Cults and youll be sure to find some pretty gross stuff. all of that is what happened to Ezekiel there!

the things i can mention though!! every child had to wear the same uniform every day, they all had the same exact hairstyle (boys had a short bowlcut, girls had long hair which they were absolutely not allowed to style or put up). they were, of course, beaten severely if the orphanage staff saw fit to do so. medieval torture methods were used on them, especially for sacrifices. they were bluntly told, “if you try to leave, the Devil will kill every single one you love and come for you last”–which is honestly why Ezekiel always talks about how “the devil is out to get him” or why Ezekiel feels that he cant get close to anyone, bc he just expects the devil to kill anyone he gets close to! bc, yknow, he ran away. the kids were also often forced to eat or drink bodily fluids which Yeah is fucking disgusting. they only had one meal a day, and said meal was very small–so a lot of the kids starved, and thats why Ezekiel is such a picky eater and refuses to eat a lot of the time! bc hes just so used to having only one tiny meal a day, just enough for him to survive on, and any more than one small meal he always feels like he’s wasted too much money or something. a lot of sexual abuse went on too. YOU GET THE IDEA BY NOW IM SURE SO.. YEAH, IT WAS… BAD BAD BAD.

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?

EXTREMELY SHELTERED. he and the other kids in the orphanage were absolutely not allowed to go outside whatsoever. this was because the caretakers told them “THE OUTSIDE WORLD WANTS TO CORRUPT YOU, SO YOU MUST ABSOLUTELY NOT INTERACT WITH ANYTHING THAT IS OUTSIDE OF THESE DOORS!!!” and were EXTREMELY strict on that rule. one time, Ezekiel had snuck out when he was about 7, and brought in stray kittens, which he hid in his room! it wasnt long until his roommates snitched on him and the caretakers straight up just fucking cut off every kitten’s head right in front of lil Ezekiel and then proceeded to beat him afterward. so that kinda fucked him up!!! this is what led to Ezekiel’s reclusive behavior now and his generally being totally silent when he’s around anyone he doesn’t know (although he has gotten a lot better about the talking thing! albeit the fact when he does talk chances are he is saying something very mean. BUT STILL!). even now, he completely secludes himself in his small apartment, even going so far as boarding up all his windows to block the sunlight altogether. well ok he also boarded them up bc he has an extremely bad habit of trying to break the glass but. the sunlight thing too!

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?

REJECTION OFC. the orphanage caretakers never even referred to him by his name–instead, they called every child by numbers. in Ezekiel’s case, it was #34. even now, that is his least favorite number.

8. How does your character feel about religion?

he may not seem like it, but Ezekiel is VERY VERY VERY religious!!! after he ran away from the orphanage and later moved to L.A., he actually did convert to Christianity! he always wears a golden cross necklace around his neck and he feels like it protects him from evil spirits–obviously thats all in his head as no evil spirits are really out to get him, but it’s a big big BIG comfort item to him. he can easily recite a shit ton of Bible verses bc he reads that damn thing all the fucking time man. in general, his faith in god is a huge fucking comfort for him, as he always fears the devil is out to get him and whatnot–its nice to think that he may actually have god on his side to protect him.

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?

honestly??? hes all over the fuckin place. he surprisingly does have some street smarts to him (from having been literally fucking homeless for a while).

although the only thing he’s really book-smart with is languages–he’s a big linguist! but otherwise, he kinda sucks at smart stuff like math or science or stuff like that–bc he never went to school! he did learn how to read while in the orphanage, but that was really about it.

not too intelligent either??? thats mostly bc he’s literally been secluded from interacting with people like all his life, so he’s just not really good at like.. reading people? and has little to no life skills bc no one ever taught him??

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

ok so despite the fact that Ezekiel never went to school, his vocabulary is actually pretty big! although like i said, he did learn to read in the cult so. that really isnt too much of an issue. but he’s very very interested in literature and language as a whole, and always was even as a child! so even now, he devotes a lot of his time to studying that kind of stuff, and his way of speaking definitely shows it–well, if you can get behind the constant swearing, anyway.

16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike?

he’s the guitarist of the rock band Rogue! his feelings on playing in a band in general is kinda.. conflicting, really. he isnt sure if he enjoys it or hates it. for one, he actually has HUGE stage fright–though he has gotten a bit better about it after playing on stage so many times by now, but it’s still a recurring issue with him and can sometimes cause complications within the band. it certainly is very anxiety-inducing for him, but at the same time… he cant bring himself to just quit, either. not even he himself is sure why he still puts up with the band, but he finds himself drawn to it quite often. he is very very very proud of being able to write music and have it be shown to millions of people though–hearing the band’s singer, Augustine, sing his lyrics to crowds, and the crowd loving it, is probably one of the biggest things that can make Ezekiel happy.

17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?

well, his first travel was from London, England to Los Angeles, California! and thats where he eventually joined the band! and, yknow, being in a band that tours quite often, now he definitely has to travel a lot. which he absolutely hates. he would much rather just stay home in his stupid secluded cheap ass apartment, but hey, u gotta do what u gotta do

23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?

when it comes to partners, ezekiel honestly doesnt expect too much from them–just a mutual understanding of each other is all he truly asks for, which should really go without saying in a relationship anyway.

hes not really one for sex! not to say he never wants to do it, though. he does have a lower sex drive than most people though–and the moments he does do it with his partner, it’s gonna have to be very gentle. he couldnt handle anything too rough tbh. also hes a total bottom so jot that down-

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

his home is a fucking MESS. he has a tendency to destroy the entire room whenever he’s having one of his temper tantrums, and this is pretty evident all over Ezekiel’s apartment, bc he doesnt even bother to clean up afterwards. the only time he really cleans up his own mess at home is if its like, food or a drink or something bc he isnt that bad about it but. every room at his apartment looks like a fucking tornado hit him or something. and he couldnt care less what his home looks like! like as long as Ezekiel has a bed, he’ll be alright. he doesnt even like big homes all that much, and prefers to live in something simple and relatively small.

as for clothing, Ezekiel usually just goes for simple stuff. Especially wears a lot of jackets, hoodies, the like. a lot of baggy-ish clothing going on, but he actually is pretty fashionable believe it or not!

hair wise, Ezekiel just has.. no fucks to give. he hardly puts much care to his hair at all tbh. its just naturally curly and a little messy, but at least he keeps it fairly short so it doesnt get too bad. its probably a lil greasy tho.. someone make this boy take a gotdamn SHOWER

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?

theres probably several tbh IJOISJERIJ

but most of all, probably both his paranoia and his stubbornness? like he can hardly even function in every day life bc he cANT EVEN COME OUT OF HIS HOUSE BC HES SO PARANOID OVER EVERYTHING. and oh my GOD Ezekiel is so goddamn infuriatingly stubborn like GODDAMN. sometimes its just practically impossible to get through to this guy whatsoever. ezekiel can honestly be a pain in the ass

30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive?

HE REMEMBERS PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING SINGLE FUCKING THING FROM THE CULT.. AND OH GOD DOES IT PLAGUE HIS MIND EVERY SINGLE DAY. like his entire childhood in that orphanage still is so fresh and prevalent in his head that he quite often has hallucinations of the events that happened there, especially when he sees certain things. like cats, for example! seeing a cat will literally send Ezekiel into immediate panic and he genuinely thinks he’s back at the orphanage where he watched those stray kittens i mentioned earlier get their lil heads cut off and he’ll repeat over and over, “their heads are gone, their heads are gone, their heads are gone-” bECAUSE. ITS LIKE HES THERE ALL OVER AGAIN! which is, of course.. yet another reason he hardly ever comes out of his home! bc he thinks “well if i just dont go out then that means i cant see anything triggering that will make me have another panic attack.”

as for forgiving his abusers? OH HAHA ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT. HE HOPES THEY ALL DIE OR HAVE ALREADY DIED IN THE MOST BRUTAL WAYS POSSIBLE.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?

Ezekiel either:A) GETS REALLY FUCKING PISSED AND START DESTROYING EVERYTHING IN THE ROOMB) HAVE A WHOLE ASS MENTAL BREAKDOWN AND PANIC

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?

unfortunately, Ezekiel is very much an addict :( he’s a big alcoholic, and also does cocaine, ecstasy, pain killers, xanax, and maybe some other shit i cant think of off the top of my head. but! hes.. a mess…. save him

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

it depends on the person/people around him! because with anyone that he hardly knows? then he doesnt really give a shit and easily brushes it off, because he honestly doesnt care what strangers think of him anyway. but around people that hes actually close to and he cares about? THEN OOF. HE CAN POSSIBLY HAVE A WHOLE PANIC ATTACK BC HE REALLY DOESNT WANT TO LET HIS LOVED ONES DOWN..

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

of course not!!! although its.. not impossible for him to enjoy someone elses suffering. you would just have to like, REAAALLY fucking do him wrong for him to be like that, which is pretty hard even for him. like the orphanage caretakers! i assure u if they suffered Ezekiel would LOVE that.

37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

most of the time hes living in memories, for sure. either that, or he’s just kinda stressed or anxious! but not always necessarily a bad anxious tho! like if hes around someone that he actually likes, he’ll be VERY anxious, but like in a good way! just kinda excited yknow. BUT MOST OF THE TIME, ITS BAD OFC.

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?

VERY SCARED AND DISTRUSTFUL, PRETTY HOSTILE!!! remember hes fucking paranoid about every little thing rip.

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

well, most of ezekiel’s jokes involve swearing and yelling, so probably that! Angery……

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

i think probably like.. parents tbh. or at least a parental figure. he’s only had one person who was like a father to him, but that guy is all the way back in London so Ezekiel hasnt seen him since :( and tbh for like most of his life, he’d always assumed that not having parents was like.. just whatever, yknow? bc you cant really miss something that was never there. but, after he ran away from the cult and he saw like.. people, he saw a lot of happy families and whatnot and just!! hes really jealous of anyone who has a functional, happy family now. it isnt so much that he misses his birth parents, just that he wants to have some kind of parental figure in general. someone that he feels he can actually call family.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

what’s sad? the fact that ezekiel… doesnt really have any life objectives! the only objective he really has is to survive. thats literally it. he just doesnt want “the devil” to take him–and to escape the devil’s wrath, ezekiel immerses himself in his religion and staying inside all day and night so that he doesnt have to talk to anyone! thats basically about it

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?

he’s pretty tall! 6′3″! although for his weight, i swear to god hes like.. a fucking twig. i mean theres that whole “he only eats one small meal a day” thing, so ofc you can imagine that probably has an effect on his weight. BUT! that isnt the only reason hes so skinny! it’s also bc he has Klinefelter Syndrome, which is when a male is born with an extra X chromosome. so as a result of that, he is a little taller than most people, is very skinny, has weak bones, and breasts! and some other symptoms but i dont feel like listing every single thing so fuck y

as for posture, Ezekiel is usually a liiiittle slouched, but not terribly so! when hes stressed, however, he always stands up completely straight!

ezekiel absolutely fucking hates his body, though. he knows full well that hes not.. the most attractive–ugly, even. you know that “your toes, hand em over” meme? yeah, he looks like that a little bit. his body honestly looks pretty fucking freaky. ALSO HE HAS A LITERAL MICROPENIS SO THATS A THING! all in all, Ezekiel just… is very very very scared of showing off his body to anyone honestly. extremely insecure!

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible?

Ezekiel actually puts on this whole temperamental asshole front specifically to MAKE people hate him! thats why hes so quick to be like “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT TWAT YOU GODDAMN WANKER FUCK YOU”! because, yknow, most people are usually gonna hate anyone who says that kind of stuff to them and as a result they hopefully wont wanna talk to him! which is exactly what Ezekiel wants. yep, Ezekiel wants everyone to hate him! because if everyone hates him, then they wont talk to him, and if they dont talk to him, then he doesnt risk of getting close to anyone and getting his heart broken all over again! hes a mess……

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

TBH FOR REFERENCE YOU CAN JUST LIKE.. LISTEN TO MURDOC NICCALS’ VOICE BC THATS HIS VC BUT. his voice can switch between either somewhat slow or extremely fast! it all depends on his mood. in his normal speaking voice, when hes neither upset or happy or anything, his words come out a little slow, but not terribly so. pretty normal, mostly. but if hes excited, whether bad or good, he speeds up when he talks a LOT. so much so that he doesnt even let himself breathe when hes talking! just like “FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUIHATEYOUYOUGODDAMNSTUPIDTWATAAAAAA”

his voice in general is a little hoarse! although he has gotten much better about talking to people (even if he is mean when he talks), he did go through practically his whole childhood just.. not talking to people very much at all. so that kinda shows in his voice now? but its not too bad. he has a pretty low-ish voice too.

as for pronounciation and accent, again literally just listen to Murdoc’s voice bc its p much exactly the same as him but. he has a very thick london-cockney accent?? i sure hope thats accurate anyway, im not British so im not 100% sure on British accents but.

50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS THE WORST RESTING BITCH FACE IN THE HISTORY OF RESTING BITCH FACE.

ok ill just draw this one

his resting face!

AMGERY!!!!!

talking to his friends!!!

PANICKING

theres probably more i could draw, but in general, Ezekiel is VERY expressive tho! its pretty easy to read all of his expressions and emotions.

#shut up erica; ooc #ezekiel facts #EZEKIEL IS JUST.. A SCARED BOYE 24/7

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firstpuffin · 6 years

Text

Swearing use and vocabulary

-Note: I will be using expletives in this article because of course I will; it’s about fucking swearing.

What are the common complaints about swearing? It’s rude (why is this though?), it’s used because the speaker has no better words and it limits the vocabulary. These last two are complete tosh.

Now to start things off with some common sense (whether or not common sense exists is another article), swearing in and of itself doesn’t DO anything. Fuck is a word. Shit is a word. Bastard is a word. In linguistics there is a thing called semantic change; semantic meaning, well, meaning. Over time the use of words will change, because word meaning is as much of a social construct as language itself. This means that the meaning of the word is what WE give it. Fuck you. You’re welcome.

So now that we know words can’t DO anything, how do we justify saying that swearing limits our speech. What it does do is give us options; if we already have all of these words that are supposedly being suppressed, then what are these extra words if not more options? Despite these half-hearted arguments, I’m actually going to put forth the argument that swearing CAN limit our vocabulary. I know, what an arse-hole, right?

So what am I saying? The usage of swearing CAN limit our vocabulary, but it’s the usage and not the actual words that do it. After all, swearing does SO fucking much: my favourite usage is as an intensifier, like that’s the fucking best, or sarcasm like that’s just fucking great. You can say that’s the shit, when something is good, or that’s shit, when it isn’t. In fact the extensive amount of possible uses for the word shit is kind of insane and you should watch the video at the end of this article where a Finnish comedian expounds on it from a foreigner’s point of view.

The word bastard can be stress relief or an insult. Fuck can be all of these things and more, or it can mean sex. Cunt is a body part, or it’s an insult, or it is really whatever you want. So when someone uses an expletive for any and all of these reasons, what use do they have for other words? If I can say dick, then why should I ever say the word todger, other than because it is a much funnier word. Todger.

You could probably get away with using no expletive other than fuck and proceed to use it in nearly every conceivable context: fuck you, fuck that, well that fucking sucks, fuck, wanna fuck, that fuck over there (in reference to a person), this fuck (in reference to an object), let’s fuck it up, etc. I think you get the fucking point.

So that’s my opinion: the usage of swear words can limit someone’s vocabulary as they don’t need to learn new words. Swearing becomes a crutch, like a phone (why knock on someone’s door when you can text them?), or a car (why walk when you can drive?) or even a literal crutch. But that’s still opinion so let’s bring something scientific into this talk.

A 2015 study found that people who know more expletives also have a better vocabulary (this article simplifies the findings) and this wordpress entry has more sources that establish that not only does IQ have no bearing on swearing (although IQ is kinda bullshit anyway) but neither does social rank, with those at both the top and bottom of the social ladder using expletives:

“people who use profanity demonstrate higher cognitive capacity and a more voluminous lexicon”.

It’ll take time for people to stop being judgemental arse-holes though and this article by the Daily Mail covers a study about how people are assumed to be less-intelligent and trustworthy, among other things. This phys.org article describes (and links) a study that discovered that swearing is actually linked to being honest AND to be perceived as being more honest which is… frankly weird as fuck. No doubt opinions on this vary from person to person but to offer up my two-cents, I also harbour negative feelings towards people who swear a lot. I like a casual expletive in conversation and heaven knows I enjoy using them, but when people use these expletives every other word then I can’t help but judge them as being less intelligent and more aggressive.

Of course this is different depending on circumstances: I hear a loud group swearing away in the back of a bus, then I get judgemental; I’m at lectures and someone is chatting away with fucks and shits coming out here and there, then I’ll be annoyed more by their volume than the words used.

This article on wiredtogrow.com (I say article, more of an opinion piece) is an example of how people will stubbornly continue to judge those who swear, even after opposing information has been offered. Now I don’t know how much thought this writer gave the article that inspired his own, or if he just rejected it out-of-hand, but his words hint at a certain amount of arrogance that is unfortunately common with those who adamantly refuse to accept swearing.

As an example, his first “reason” why people swear is that they are lazy, and we now know that is complete tosh. I’ll be kind and point out that this was before the studies that I’ve linked here, so maybe he didn’t have the right information but his attitude is clear and honestly, rather rude. See his sixth reason why “leaders” swear:

“6. They think it will earn them status as “one of the boys” (an argument frequently used by female executives).”

How insulting is that?

Still, there was information floating around at roughly the time of his article (I’ve had to guess given that I couldn’t find a date), but the comments in this example show how anti-swearing attitudes were prevalent and remarkably close-minded.

I’m glad that more studies are coming out that exalt the various benefits of all of these swear words. There is a lot of good to come from the act of swearing, including more that I haven’t brought up and accepting it can only be good, given that (as I’ve said) there is nothing inherently wrong with it. To those people who say that swearing is offensive, I’ve already established that word meaning is social, so the only offence that a word should cause is self-inflicted. A personal anecdote, my parents can’t watch anything with too much swearing in it because they hold that it is bad. They are letting their close-mindedness ruin something for them. In their defence though, they are getting better about it. But it is still a shame.

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#first puffin #opinion #swearing #vocabulary #language #english language

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