Tumgik
#I've asked people in my life and they've just done the whole “oh that's a normal part of getting older your body just stops working as well
I think I've been touchy lately about my feelings of access to/participation in generativity. I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately by how much needs doing and how much disparate but necessary information I'm keeping in my head. I should probably get back into my thought maps for the work on the yard and house, because I think that will make it easier for me to empty my head when I'm not actively trying to work on something.
#i'm feeling a sinking recognition that i need to build a life for myself that's functional#even if it means accepting norms that i have been trying to cight for a long time in my relationships#boundaries are weird and hard and i've never been particularly good at them#but if the comversations i have with my clients are anything to go by#i have a solid understanding of how to identify and communicate them#i just don't seem to have the will to stand by my decision when push comes to shove#so people around me carry on doing what they've always done#and going all shocked pikachu face when i finally collect myself enough to remind them exactly how i feel about their behavior#oh i have no idea you felt like this!!!#why are you so angry and snappish all the time?????#i just don't have any idea what else you expect from me i already spend all my time thinking about what i expect you to expect of me?#what do you mean that's not the same thing as actually having open lines of communication with me and treating me like awhole fuckin person#i work so hard not to take my frustration out on anyone#to be kind and calm and clear when I talk#to love the things about them that i love and enjoy the time with them that i enjoy without feeling compelled to seek disappointment#asking for more or different just won't happen so what's the point of looking to feel hurt#and i do have a lot of different areas of my life that fulfill different needs of mine#so i understand that i'm lucky and should really probably accept that i am much less alone than I often feel#i just wish i had someone in my life who was both willing and able to see all of me with affection#or at least. someone who was willing and able to take on that role and who I am willing and able to trust with the role#therapy helps#my new therapist is nice and seems open and understanding#but i understand our relationship probably better than most patients given the circumstances#i know how important it is that she never be more than a facilitator of space in my life#she seems good at doing that and i appreciate having the space again#i don't really know what i want anymore but i know i'm tired of feeling unwelcome in my wholeness of self
2 notes · View notes
steddieunderdogfics · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!
An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:
24-Hour Diner
On Thin Ice
And the Sun will Rise
Bandaids for the Heart
Waking Up In Vegas
A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous
Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.
What is your writing process like?
It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.
Do you have any writing quirks?
I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!
Which fic are you most proud of?
“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.
How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?
I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!
When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?
I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.
What inspired On Thin Ice?
I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.
What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?
There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!
Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
158 notes · View notes
birdiesaves · 5 months
Text
THE MARTIAN ( novel by andy weir ) change as necessary !
mankind reaching out to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah. 
i’m pretty much fucked. 
they got the parades and fame and love of the world, i got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when i got home.
i would only be “in command” of the mission if i were the only remaining person.
what do you know? i’m in command.
it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to do. 
in your position i would have done the same thing. 
it was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying.
everyone thinks i’m dead. 
ok, i’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.
i won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.
fear my botany powers!
but hey, time is the one thing i’ve got.
i wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.
i’ll spare you the math. the answer is _________
bleh. i’m going to bed
my life depends on you
i played a lot of dungeons and dragons.
i have an idiotically dangerous plan 
i suppose i’ll think of something. or die.
the answer is: i don’t know.
all i accomplished today was thinking up a plan that’ll kill me
also, i have duct tape. 
after a search of everyone’s personal items i found my answer.
that was sarcasm, by the way.
this all sounds like a great idea with no chance of catastrophic failure.
do you have any idea the magnitude of shitstorm this is gonna be?
how come aquaman can control whales? they’re mammals! 
i expected it to be cold, but jesus christ!
now, on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours.
i ask for a picture and i get the fonz?
the whole world’s been rooting for you. 
really looking forward to not dying. 
please watch your language.
sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you.
you're sort of a smart-ass.
your request for “anything, oh god anything but disco” is denied.
no. you’ll fuck it up and die.
i took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.
i don’t see anything... i can hear it, but... it’s down here somewhere, but i don’t know where.
the subtle and refined “hurl my body at the wall” technique had some flaws. 
named after the greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. she's also the goddess of rainbows.
i'm not giving up. just planning for every outcome. it's what i do.
your poster outsold the rest of ours combined.
why are you such a nerd?
you should try to be more cool. wear dark glasses and a leather jacket. carry a switchblade.
you started my training by buying me a beer.
so now i have to do boring-ass experiments with test tubes and zzzzzzzzzz....
frankly, i suspect you're a super villain.
just once i'd like something to go to plan, ya know?
no? ok... what was that!? oh, nothing? ok...
for now i just want to go home.
there's always hope
are we just watching a tragedy play out?
you’ll survive this. i don't know how, but you will. 
i've defiled enough historical sites for now.
tomorrow night, i'll sink to an all new low!
tomorrow night, i'll be at rock bottom!
be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you. see how that works out.
i remember when you were shy
the attitude comes with the job
and by “enjoying” i mean “hating so much i want to kill people.”
there aren't many people who can say they've vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. but i'm one of them.
what's our role in all this? if something goes wrong, what can we do?
how do you come up with this shit?
i admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: i'd get to fly around like iron man.
i need you to come back in and make a bomb.
i knew that guy was a mad scientist!
i think we should just go with my iron man idea.
well if you won't let us then- wait... wait a minute... i'm looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out i'm the commander. 
give me a minute. you're the first person i've seen in ______.
i think about the sheer number of people who pulled together just to save my sorry ass, and i can barely comprehend it.
i represent progress, science, and the interplanetary future we’ve dreamed of for centuries. 
they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out. it might not seem that way sometimes, but it’s true.
yes, there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by the people who do. 
55 notes · View notes
abrthephantomq · 7 months
Text
Soooo....
Turnabout Storyteller.
I had already vaguely known about Uendo having DID due to me not necessarily avoiding spoilers when reading fanfic, but...
I have so many thoughts on this as someone who HAS the disorder they're representing here.
Like, one, I definitely appreciated the way they revealed it -- during a Mood Matrix session. Having multiple sets of feelings and having them switch on and off like that is def a thing. I've/we've experienced that before.
But also -- before that, when Uendo was switching between his "characters" and everyone thought he was just putting on a performance? Yeah, see. They did that really well considering that like -- yes, the way alters hold the body/the face can be really different. They certainly felt like different people, which was really cool to see. I liked the different poses they had because as I played I was like, "Huh... is he the character with DID...? He is, right?"
The thing is, I'm like 80% certain that Uendo is the murderer, and THAT annoys me -- but I'm not done playing through the case, yet. I just started the second half of the trial, so.... I'll comment as I go.
But if I'm right and Uendo IS the murderer, I'm gonna have to roll my eyes because soooo many pieces of media use my disorder to show HEY SOMEONE WITH THIS COULD BE A KILLER AND NOT KNOWWWWW and I hate that. Because like.... no.
OH THANK GOD. Like 3 seconds into the send half of the trial and it's NOT Uendo. Yay. Yayyyyy. I'm actually really glad they did that subversion of the person-with-DID-is-the-killer trope. Thank fucking GOD.
SIMON GRABBING ATHENA when she starts to doubt she can prove Bucky's innocence is just -- fuck. Okay. Yeah, I see why the fandom loves that particular moment. (I love Simon so much omfg).
Tumblr media
I am honestly loving this case and I actually really like the way they've presented Uendo -- it's simplified a bit for the sake of the audience, but at the same time, switching DO be like that. And you can certainly be co-conscious and share memory.
Like.... that's legitimately how our System works -- there's usually 2-3 of us up front at any given time, with someone generally more forward, while the other(s) listens / watches. Sometimes others push to the front. And there are 4 of us who more or less have access to the continual life happenings even if we don't always recollect specific details (or what we were feeling) later.
Also Owen being a LITTLE makes so much damn sense? Fuck, idk man, I love it. I kinda adore them.
I really really really got weary when Uendo's diagnosis was revealed because, y'know, the whole oh God pls tell me you're not the murderer even if it was kinda looking like you were.
That fucking balloon girl did it, didn't she? Jesus fucking Christ. I love that, but I also hate that. Also it's so unfair they made this chick so goddamned pretty.
Also man can I also say just how like.... they legitimately refer to Owen as a child, and Kisegawa with Ms., and -- that's actually a nice little piece of the writing here. Like... is it absolutely perfect? No. It's not. But let me tell you -- as someone with this disorder? Writing it and showing it for an audience is hard.
That whole, "everyone is unique" thing applies here -- every System is different. They all develop ways of functioning in order to blend in and protect themselves. Uendo may not have the denial bit that comes with this disorder (do you know how many times I find myself asking if I'm sure I'm not faking this thing? do you??? because like, it's a "rare" disorder, right? and was my trauma REALLY bad enough for me to have alters???? etc) -- but considering the confident way he, Patches, and Kisegawa speak about their experience with the disorder, I would imagine they've been in therapy for it for a while, now.
But also -- the three of them not being aware of Owen? Or denying his existence, at least? Well, they were either protecting him because he's so young, or they legitimately did not know since apparently he may only come forward when the body is drunk.
idk I love that Uendo et al was not the killer. Like so much. Thank FUCK.
Also that was a really fun case even if it was like, not entirely relevant to the overall story happening here in SOJ. I definitely enjoyed it.
66 notes · View notes
auncyen · 6 months
Text
me getting some work done for au act 5 (I WANNA CONTINUE IIIIIT it's just. ...I really need to decide what I'm doing with the House for act 5 is the real issue lol) I've talked about the group belatedly realizing Siffrin was throwing red flags during their journey recently mostly because THIS exchange was on my brain. now it is in text. hopefully it will survive to the fic.
-
Isabeau lifts his chin, glancing first at the door to the bedroom before looking at Madame Odile and you. "…Has Siffrin said anything about where they're from? To either of you? They were talking about all of us splitting up after we defeat the King, and sure, we were planning to, but…he's not doing well. I'm sure it'd help if we figure out how to stop this whole 'looping' business, but even then, I don't know if he'd be safe on his own, or able to deal with other people. I just…I'd like to help him get back home, somewhere he'd feel safe. If he'd let me."
Odile shakes her head. "I'd given up on trying to get anything out of them months ago."
Thinking back on the last few months of the journey, a terrible realization curdles in your gut.
"I…I don't think they have a home, actually, not one they'd go back to," you say. Both Isabeau and Odile look at you with alarm, and you stammer. Maybe you're wrong! You want to be wrong. But you need to say it, just in case. "I--they didn't say they didn't, but, uhm, once I asked them if they were really okay continuing on our journey, and he said it was more than okay. That he was the happiest he'd ever been."
"Oh," Madame Odile says, frowning for a moment before she holds up a hand. "Well--I understand why you'd be concerned, Mirabelle, but that may not have meant anything particularly. Siffrin did have a habit of not taking things seriously, especially before the incident--"
"No, Madame, you don't understand!" you object, though when you hear your own voice rising you try to rein it back in. You can't wake Bonnie and worry them more. "I asked him that--I think it was three weeks after they'd lost their eye." Siffrin had still been struggling with the loss of vision back then--even now they still bumped into things occasionally, but they've doing much better than when they'd regularly bump into things or trip themself up. "Because I thought, surely, after that, he'd want to go home, right? I wanted him to know I wouldn't blame him in the least. But he--they didn't even think about how to answer, just smiled and said they were the happiest they'd been, when they'd just lost an eye, when they could have died--and I don't. I don't think he was joking at all, or being insincere." He'd seemed so earnest, it had completely disarmed you. You'd thought so hard about how to approach the topic so that he wouldn't think you thought he was being troublesome, just that you wanted the best for them. But they'd claimed they liked being on your quest best and dried up all the words still lodged in your throat. "But if he was being honest, then…"
"…Then what was their life before, that that was the happiest?" Odile concludes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks tired, her expression sagging. "Gems alive, that one. I…I did wonder sometimes, how cavalier he was when he accidentally set off traps and nearly got himself…"
Isabeau's arms are still folded, one hand gripping the other arm's sleeve and bunching it up. "That can't be right. He's got to have somewhere he can go back to. Someone who can…"
Help him. After what he'd said in the afternoon, you're not sure you can be that help, or that he'd want your help even if you offered. But the thought of them being alone when they'd been happiest with others around, with that ugly anger brewing inside him, doesn't sit right either.
41 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook
𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮 : Unsaid Rules
Tumblr media
There's forbidden words in the hospital that you're simply not allowed to say. But some people just can't keep their mouths shut, it seems like.
Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Doctor!Yoongi, Nurse!Jimin, Doctor!Namjoon, mentions of Doctor!Hoseok, Paramedic!Jin, blood, medical terms, hospital stuff come on this is a medical au, somewhat of an intro to everything really
Length: 3k words
A/N: Please do not come for my throat if some stuff doesn't make sense. I've tried hard, but I'm not a doctor, and so none of this should be taken too seriously. Treat it like a medical drama. Those ain't real either haha
-> Masterlist
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
"Alright!" Jungkook greets everyone in his department, walking around to find all computer screens dark. "What's going on here?" He asks, tapping at the keyboard- but nothing springs to life.
"Jimin jinxed the shift about half an hour ago." Namjoon, an emergency physician and also best friend of Jungkook's, sighs. "Said the 'Q-word', now all the computers down here and in pediatrics' crashed. They've sent someone out already though." He explains.
"Oh come on now-" Jungkook whines. "-three weeks leave and you come back and drop something like this? Go back to where you came from!" He jokingly curses at his friend, who just rolls his eyes.
"Don't you have to be in your own department, Doctor Jeon?" He asks playfully sarcastic, making his friend laugh, as he grabs his water bottle and some files, before he does just that.
Jungkook has been working in the hybrid care department for almost five whole years at this point. He's one of only a few specialists in the country- making his department pretty busy most of the time. But he doesn't mind it- he's studied his ass off for a reason, pursued this career because he truly wanted it. So in a way, he's proud to be the one many people trust in.
He greets fellow members of staff- some he knows, other's he's not too familiar with, before he finally enters the familiar hallways, starting his day.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
When Jungkook was still in school, he didn't have any ambitions at all.
He's not the kind of doctor who always wanted to be one ever since he was a kid- in fact, quite the opposite. He remembers his mother always telling him how terrified he was as a child to have to go to a doctor, even if it was just for a regular check up, or flu shot. It scared him, the needles and strange people and noises- but by now, they've become normal, routing, comforting even in certain cases.
At the beginning, he wanted to be a pediatrician. Work with kids, cause that seemed to be the easiest for him back then. But then, things changed.
He changed.
Watching someone die in front of you can be life changing- sometimes just a moment, but other times for your entire future as well. He remembers the young cat hybrid playing with him, without a care in the world. They were both not even fifteen when the young boy suddenly fell, for no apparent reason, and never woke up. He'd seen him be worked on, watched from the sidelines, frozen in place. Could he have done something?
In hindsight, he knows there was really nothing he could've done to prevent things from happening. It wasn't his fault- but simply a problem in the system, back then.
Sudden Arrhythmic Death Syndrome had been, and is still, not something entirely uncommon in human children, hybrids, and even more common in infant hybrids than anyone else. Untreated heart arrhythmia, combined with a change in blood pressure, rush of adrenaline, or even just sleep- things he now knows, but back then, had been absolute horror to him.
To imagine that the young boy simply died because people didn't check properly still hangs heavy on his mind.
It's why he chose to study them, instead of work at his father's restaurant. Chose to be different, make a change, even if it's just a drop in a bucket not even halfway filled. He's not going to simply shrug his shoulders when he can't find a reason for someone being sick. He's not going to be told that he simply didn't do his work properly.
He's one of the most active doctors around. Has inspired some others to be more on-patient as well. And it fills him with pride, knowing that he can influence the hospital staff in that way.
"Ah, there you are." A doctor with a grim expression calls out, grabbing his coat. "Was just looking for you. I've got the CT back for the otter hybrid in 210." He says, holding some papers out for him to check out. "It's not conclusive, but considering that she's never had it happen before, I'd agree with you on encephalitis, honestly. Temperature's been climbing steadily, and nurses said she's complaining of stomach pain too." He nods. "Though I want to see her personally together with you, if you've got time." The man asks, and Jungkook nods.
"Of course. You know I trust you most with things like this." He nods, walking to the room in question with his friend next to him.
Min Yoongi is his name, and most of the staff around here don't like him all that much.
Mostly because the neurologist barks demands and commands around like a testosterone filled wolf hybrid, and walks around as if someone had pissed bladder stones in his iced americano he drinks every hour of the day. Only the people who witness him talk to the hybrids and younger patients around know, that there's a lot more to the medical professional than he lets on.
And he's also great with the angry drunk people- because what he lacks in height, he makes up for in scary when he wants to.
"Hello there!" Jungkook chimes up at the young otter hybrid in question sitting on her bed, monitors beeping in rhythm as they approach her- her owner sitting close by. "Do you remember me?" Jungkook asks, while the nurse adjusts the drip of medication on the side. The hybrid shakes her head, before she looks around again- sometimes staring in interest at the other, shorter doctor next to Jungkook. "No? That's okay." He chuckles, walking closer with his friend and colleague in tow, who takes out a pen with a light on the other end. "My friend here is a bit quiet just like you are, but I heard you can call him Yoongi if you want." He chuckles, making the doctor roll his eyes at the common joke Jungkook tends to make.
"Just look at me for a moment, alright?" Yoongi questions, trying to grab the hybrid's attention. "I know he's handsome but I'm not too bad either, am I?" He jokes, making the other hybrid smile a bit shyly as she nods. It makes him smile as well, as he checks the pupil's reaction, satisfied with his results before he turns the light off, tucks the pen away in his front pocket. "Can you tell me what day we have?" He asks.
"…monday." The meek hybrid answers, looking at Jungkook with her big brown eyes. They remind him of his own, back when he was a kid.
"Monday, alright." Yoongi nods to himself. "Do you know where you are?" He questions further, owner scooting a bit closer as he watches everything with a nurturing gaze.
"Home?" The otter answers a little unsure, before something near the window grabs her attention. "Birds." She chimes up, and Yoongi chuckles a little.
"I know, there's a lot outside there, hm?" He nods, before he tabs her leg to gain her gaze back. "Can you tell me your name? You've not introduced yourself yet." He asks, hunching a bit over to make himself less of a threat. Though, it's clear that the hybrid patient has got no fear really.
"…Min?" she asks, pointing at his name embroidered into his coat. Yoongi nods.
"Hm, disoriented in time, place and person." He tells the nurse he's noticed come in behind him, voice a lot more authorative and deep as he talks to the staff. He knows the young student doesn't mind. He shouldn't, really. 'you're still too soft for the real deal', he'd told him only yesterday after the poor guy had been found crying outside the hospital after witnessing his first cardiac arrest. 'Don't take it home.' he'd patted his shoulder- a rare gesture of compassion, before he'd left the young student by himself.
They both excuse themselves for a moment, Yoongi scratching the back of his head before he puts his head in his pockets. "Blood test?" He asks, and Jungkook shrugs.
"Didn't get it back yet- the lab computers crashed, because Jimin said the Q-word this morning." He chuckles, crossing his arms. "But they should come in any minute, same as urine."
"I'd still like to take her for an EEG, just to make sure." Yoongi nods to himself, grabbing his little pager that starts to chime obnoxiously. "I'm wanted in majors right now, but I'll tell them to schedule it." The neurologist tells his coworker, already walking off- and Jungkook nods, shouts a thank-you after him, before he enters the room again to give the owner the proper updates.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
A few days later, Jungkook is getting ready for his twelve-hour shift at the emergency department, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt when he hears the familiar shuffling of his best friend's slides on the smooth hospital floor coming closer.
"Alright park-" Yoongi walks in, making the nurse in question snap his head around at the sound of his voice. "-you're stuck with me for the next 12 hours, and if I hear you drop that Q-word one fucking time I swear to god I'll piss in your energy drink the moment you're not looking." He threatens, making Jungkook chuckle as he clips on his nametag, and checks for his ID card and other necessities he will need.
"It slipped out okay?!" Jimin whines, though everyone knows he did it on purpose.
Jimin is a senior nurse- and very good at his job. Even if everyone jokes around with him, he's still a person of authority, and even people like Min Yoongi respect him for his work a lot. He pulls a huge weight after all, working almost always in the emergency department by choice, a very compassionate person with deep care for every patient that comes in.
"Alright, I'll go try and get myself some coffee-" Jungkook starts, when suddenly, a voice rings out.
"Adult male hybrid trauma in 10, Adult male hybrid trauma in 10."- and everyone looks at the doctor with sympathy, Yoongi patting his back as he walks by.
"Seems like your caffeine has to wait, kid." He jokes, as Jungkook throws his head back. The moment of rare playfulness with the man lasts for a moment, before he turns around to write something down. "I don't know if you've all forgotten that ten stands for ten minutes and you've wasted two of them already, but if you don't want me to remove all chairs here again-" He threatens, finishing his writing, "-I better see you all on your feet before the time left hits 7." The doctor scolds, forcing everyone to scramble and get everything in order and ready for the arrival of the call.
Everyone's now getting ready when the door opens, paramedics entering with the patient, rolling the young man into the spot the medical staff want him- or rather, where Namjoon, the leading emergency doctor, had said he will want him. He'd just started his shift as well, having only really had time to wash his hands and get a bit of info on what's to come, as he now get's filled in by the paramedic.
"So his name is Hajoon, 22 year old canine hybrid, owner has called after he's been hit by a bus." The man offers, while everyone else starts assessing him. "No visible head injuries, no disorientation whatsoever, was conscious at scene but has drifted off a little from the medication we've given." Yoongi stands by closely, listening to everything with a serious face. "Definite pelvis fracture and broken humerus, full sensation and ability to move the lower arm, hand and fingers so no apparent nerve injury." The man with the name tag 'Kim Seokjin' reads all the medication given from his clipboard, filling everyone in on what's happened until now. "He's usually a very active and healthy guy, no underlining health issues whatsoever, vaccines are all up to date, and owner is on it's way as we speak." He finishes, and Namjoon nods, having soaked up all the information flowing around while everyone else does what they can.
"Alright let's send him out for CT right away to check for any internal injuries and to catch a good look at the fractures, and I want a Hybrid Special's to look at him right after. Until then we'll lower down the medications to get him conscious again, We can switch to something else regarding the pain later but I want him up and alert, the faster the better." Namjoon calls out, and everyone moves to do what's been told.
Jungkook is watching from the sidelines for now, waiting for the first scuffle to clear up as the young man is being cared for.
"Haven't seen each other in a while." Seokjin says from the side with a soft smile, washing his hands after he'd given his notes to the younger doctor. "Hope your break has been good."
"Yeah well, you know me." Jungkook offers kindly, looking through the patient's records. "Can't really keep still for long. Was he actually fully conscious when you guys got to him?" The young doctor wonders, and Seokjin nods.
"Was pretty surprised. He was folded like a pretzel, obviously complaining, but entirely alert." He shakes his head. "It's surprising what they can endure, really." He chats, before he gets ready to leave again, saying goodbyes.
Jungkook knows that he'll see him again sooner than he'd like to, probably.
"Doctor Jeon?" Jimin chimes playfully after a while of calm in the emergency room, and Jungkook looks up from the clipboard, already used to the older one's antics. "Namjoon wants you to check out the CT upstairs." He informs him, and Jungkook nods, making his way to the proper department, greeting some staff on his way before he enters the room.
"Ah, Jungkook. Here, you might wanna see this." He says, letting the young doctor walk closer to check out the scan images.
Jungkook can't help but shake his head. "Well that's gonna be fun to put back together." Jungkook snorts to himself. "Hoseok's gonna have the time of his life pulling that one off."
"Well he always brags how good he is-" Namjoon shrugs, crossing his arms. "So he'll have more to show off if he gets that boy up and running again." He jokes, before they pull him back out and into the hallway. It's on the way back when the young man starts to move, eyeing his surroundings as he becomes conscious again. "Oh- hello there, please stay like this okay? You're fine." Namjoon immediately reassures. "My name is Doctor Kim I'm a doctor at Seoul Central Hospital, do you know what happened to you? He asks, and the young man nods, groaning a bit in pain.
"Let's give him some pain relief but please don't knock him out again okay?" Namjoon suggests, while Jungkook looks over the young man, instantly in work-mode as he looks out for any potential signs that his situation could slip to the worse. "Jungkook can you ask someone to fetch Hoseok for me please? I want him to schedule surgery asap." He says, and Jungkook nods, already off to find a nurse.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
Jungkook can sometimes be seen as scarier looking than he is.
He's got a pretty muscular body, tattoos he knows the hospital only tolerates because he's the only specialist they got their hands on, and piercings as well. He also tends to not wear his doctor's coat all that much- rather dressed in casual-formal wear, sleeves rolled up and nametag stuck to his front shirt pocket. Not to be a rebel- but because it makes people feel a bit more at ease with him, especially the hybrids who tend to be easily frightened and withdrawn in hospitals.
"Hey, before I go-" Jungkook says, walking past Jimin who's also ready to end his shift. "-do you know what happened to the canine hybrid from this morning? Hajoon, wasn't it?" He asks, and Jimin lights up, nodding.
"Was confused for quite a while, but after Yoongi had worked his magic with him, he finally responded to everything." He chuckles. With 'working his magic', he's talking about Yoongi's rather.. commanding tone of voice, something he does often when he notices a patient being capable of responding, but simply too 'lazy' to do so. It can come off as a bit harsh sometimes, but he means well- and after his words had found listening ears, it had reassured everyone including the rather distressed elderly owner in her chair at the side. "Here, let me pull up…" Jimin says, typing some things on the computer, before he pulls up some x-ray images. "Look at that!" He laughs, and Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief.
"And he's gonna be all good?" He asks, Jimin nodding in response.
"Hoseok said he's probably going to walk again just fine in a few months. And he'll have a pretty interesting story to tell every time he gets screened at the airport from now on." The nurse jokes, making Jungkook laugh. "Oh, and I heard Yunhee was discharged today, wasn't she?" He asks about the otter hybrid who had, indeed, caught encephalitis- an infection affecting the brain.
"Yeah- pretty much demanded I'd get Yoongi though so she could give him a goodbye-hug." He chuckles, and Jimin puts his hand to his heart.
"I wish he would give me a hug too!" He complains, and both laugh, very much aware that that will probably never happen at all with the rather stoic and withdrawn neurologist. And with the reassurance that today, he's been able to help save a life yet again, Jungkook walks into the staff room; takes off his nametag, puts on his jacket, his shoes-
waving everyone goodbye, after an exhausting twelve hour shift.
Just to do it all over again the next week rolls around.
Tumblr media
332 notes · View notes
inlovewithregencyera · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
transcript under cut : )
Thornfield House, July 7th, 1818
Isabella: And you did write to her father informing him of this, right?
Max: Yes. He wrote back to me an hour ago, and they're leaving for Hollow directly after her birthday. I've asked him to keep this in confidence of himself and Lady Grey, and he says he will as it would break his heart to tell Aurelia himself.
Isabella: *clutching hand* When will you tell her?
Max: I don't know, and I don't know why you're all tasking me with the impossible. It's not fair, truly. *sniffling* If I had a lover and I lay dying of consumption I wouldn't have Frederick tell her. It should be an intimate moment between them.
Isabella: I think she shall be very upset.
Maximilian: *voice quivering* She'll be plagued with perturbation. Perhaps it would be easier if that idiot thought about how his actions effected others for once in his damn life. He overwhelmed her with affection and now I must tell her he's dying.
Isabella: Oh, please don't cry. More than anything, I hate seeing you upset. I don't care much for people's emotions, but yours always tug at my heart.
Max: Luckily for you I have no more tears left to cry. My eyes have been soiled with tears for the past 12 hours, I believe I'm done for today.
Isabella: Dear Max, crying that long isn't good for-
Max: Don't you stand here and tell me what's good for me and what's not. I don't expect you to understand. You've rarely been emotional a day in your life.
Isabella: have been emotional many times in my life, I just know that crying *THAT MUCH AT ONCE* does you no service!
Max: *scoffs* You are heartless sometimes, you know?
Isabella: How am I heartless for telling you the truth?
Max: I cannot help crying if I am again watching someone I love die.
Isabella: *scoffs* He's not dead! And there have been cases where people overcame this disease.
Max: And you think he will be an exception?! That he's some sort of miracle and will prevail through?
Isabella: He could be. Why you've given up on him I do not know.
Max: He's given up on himself! Why should I have hope for his survival if he's not going to even fight for it!?
Isabella: Because he's family, Max! You don't give up on someone even when they've given up on themself. When Eleanor gave up on herself, you-
Max: Damn it don't you bring her up. I told you I was done crying for today, so stop wherever you're going.
Isabella: Your tears won't bring her back, so what use is it?
Max: You are heartless! When you love someone, and they die-
Isabella: Damn you Max if you are trying to insinuate I didn't love her! I loved her more than anyone ever to walk this Earth!
Max: That's not at all what I meant Isabella and you know that! I just can't believe you're telling me that I shouldn't cry now. Name a time when any one of our household was dying and I didn't?
Isabella: When Uncle Percy had a stroke! He was as good as gone right after and I don't recall you ever shedding any tears then. And there's hope for Frederick, he's not coughing blood.
Max: Frederick is much thinner than the last time I saw him and that cough tops it all off. So no, I will not tell myself there's any hope. And I apologize for not crying in front of my sickly, invalid Father, SOMEONE had to be strong for him.
Isabella: Are you saying I wasn't Maximilian? Really? When you went off to do Ducal business and whatnot who sat with him that whole time until you returned? I endeavored just about as much as you to ensure his comfort, *voice cracking* and how can you accuse me of not being strong when you and I suffered the same trials?
Max: Bell…
Isabella: WHAT?! *covering eyes*
Max: I didn't mean to upset you, dear. I'm sorry, and you're right, we experienced the same sorrow. Perhaps we go about it differently when reacting to it.
Isabella: *sniffling* It just hurts that you'd call me heartless for saying crying does you no good. I'm not saying you shouldn't cry, because Lord knows I have moments sometimes, but I know it's not helpful in the long run. He's not dead yet, t-that is to say, *eyes welling up* if he was truly dying, *burts into tears* in which he is-
Max: *extending arms* Come here.
Isabella: *sobbing into chest* Oh Max! Whatever will we do?
Max: *kisses forehead* What we always do I suppose. Deal with whatever God throws at us.
Isabella: *sniffles* Yes. Let us not quarrel as we shall need each other more than ever in the coming weeks.
25 notes · View notes
jezebelgoldstone · 4 months
Text
i managed to hold out for like a whole day and a half but i am officially like halfway through the magnus protocol
and
okay so i KNEW that johnny sims and alexander j newal voiced people in this series but like. when """"g. g."""" (no it's not gigi are you kidding) and fucking jerry showed up i literally oh my gods. i didn't start crying but if i were the sort to cry that would've done it. really seriously truly. oh my gods. oh my GODS. i cannot. i am emotionally compromised.
also. as a sidenote. i've seen so many posts speculating about whether or not norris and.... gha i forget the other one's name. i keep wanting to call him chuck. CHESTER that's it fucking chester. anyway! i keep seeing all these joke posts about being trapped with the love of your life and the worst boss it's possible to have in a window's 95 computer, and speculation about whether this is on purpose or if it's just johnny sims doing his usual thing and being slightly claustrophobic when it comes to things like characters and his actual friends, but like, guys.
guys.
come on.
if i hadn't read a thing on magnus protocol before i started listening there would be absolutely no question in my mind that it's jon and martin and probably jonah. (not elias, mind, which is why his voice is different. JONAH.) it's so... anything i write about it is going to make it sound like i'm pushing too hard which is going to make it seem less likely, but. i literally don't understand how in the show this is supposed to be taken any other way.
like okay listen. a little while ago i started writing this fanfic where the love interest is in disguise, right? but like, not in disguise from the READER. i always try to have the main pairing on screen together in the very first scene of any fic; by the end of the first chapter at the absolute latest, and in this one the identity reveal isn't going to be until like at least halfway through the story. but i wanted people to keep reading, and i didn't want people to worry that i was going to end up pairing the mc with an oc, so i did nothing to hide the love interest's identity from the reader. like, EVERYTHING about him is exactly like in the movie. his looks, his speech patterns, his mannerisms. when the mc asks for his name (after they've been talking for a long while already) the love interest is clearly lying and gives a fake name. i tagged the fic with hidden identity and identity reveal and all this kind of thing. it was. it was not hidden at all. and yet! there are still a few comments where people are speculating about whether or not the love interest is actually the love interest. i mean it makes sense; it is possible that i could've fucked up writing so bad that i may have accidentally made it seem like this rando oc was the love interest when he isn't, so if that was the case no one wanted to either make me feel bad or look silly when the actual love interest showed up. so like i get it? but also. i was 100% NOT expecting there to be any question AT ALL regarding the identity of the love interest.
and i gotta say. i feel like if johnny sims has read any of the posts speculating about chester and norris's identity, he probably feels exactly the same way.
also it's not windows 95! it's the business-focused precursor to window's 95, and that's worse.
20 notes · View notes
auspex · 3 months
Text
VtM Fangfest 2024 Prompt 7: The Lovers
Hello! Here is my seventh fic for Fangfest 2024 :)
All my fics will be about characters that are previously established, so you might not have context for everything mentioned or hinted at within :( Feel free to reach out to ask I love explaining!
I've never really posted my writing before so be kind!
my first fic is here
my second fic is here
my third fic is here
my fourth fic is here
my fifth fic is here
my sixth fic is here
This fic is about Mark and Cassidy, of course!!! Art of them here
They've done quite a bit together which I reference but could not fully explain below... so apologies for things mentioned without context!
I love them so much though <3 this is set just before they become a couple officially :)
Mark found himself overthinking his outfit as he walked down the endless stairs to the chantry entrance. Was wearing a whole new outfit, the one that he had picked out no less, too much? He hoped not. Surely it makes sense. Yeah. It didn’t matter, probably. Or maybe it did. Cassidy did seem to care about taste. Mark attempted to reason with himself though; one outfit wouldn’t make-or-break this. Either he was reading things correctly, and Cassidy was simply playing coy by not initiating things, or he didn’t like Mark, and nothing he did at this point would change that. 
Such were Mark’s thoughts as he made his way all the way to Cassidy’s haven. He took a deep breath before knocking. He will definitely be able to tell I’m nervous. 
Cassidy was already smiling when he opened the door. Mark couldn’t help but smile back and his nerves eased a bit. 
“Hello, Mark. I am glad you could make it. Come in.” 
“Ah, of course. I’m glad things are settling down.” Cassidy’s haven was as put-together as always; the blue couch he had helped Cassidy pick out was neatly decorated with matching pillows, and the bookshelves were finally both filled and organized. It was odd to see the room only lit by lamps; Mark missed the artificial sunlight previously provided by Gaius. He looked around and listened for anyone. “No Lillian?”
“No, she is making her report to Dr. White soon and so when I mentioned you were coming she went to her laboratory to focus.” Cassidy sighed. “I will have to make mine to him soon as well. Though it will be a successful report, I am not looking forward to the loss of free time.” He slumped onto the couch as he finished the sentence. 
Mark went to sit next to him. “Oh, yes, that makes sense. Erm, how often do you think we’ll be able to see each other, after that?” 
“It’s hard to say. I only know that it will be less.” He gave Mark a sad smile. “When I have time, I will certainly reach out to see if you are available.” 
“I would like that a lot, Cassidy. I should have a predictable schedule. Things have changed for me lately.” 
There was silence for a moment before Cassidy hesitantly spoke. “Ever since your sire met final death, yes?” He opened his notebook. 
Mark raised an eyebrow at the notebook but answered anyway. “Yes. He was, well, he asked a lot of me. And obviously entirely uh, changed my life, for the worse, I suppose. But there was a level of direction, and even of safety in a way, that I don’t have now - no one is telling me what to do, or asking what I’ve been doing, so. There’s a lot to figure out.” 
“I understand. What’s the phrase - ah, things have been turned upside down for you. And I know you said you were doing just fine, but sometimes, one’s emotional response to such a large change is delayed, so please remember, you can always talk to me.” 
“Thanks Cassidy. I’m doing ok though, really.” Mark attempted a smile. 
“Hm. I had asked you before what you wanted, Mark. Remember, after we were investigating that supposed Anarch party? At that time you said safety, and people you could talk to. Has that remained the same since your sire’s death?” 
Mark pursed his lips in thought; it was a question he had asked himself already yet still had difficulty answering. Before he got to that though: “Well actually, at the time of answering, I did want those things, but what I was really working towards was freedom from him, though as you might guess I had mixed feelings about it even then.” 
“This makes sense, and it is wise to keep such things close to your chest.” Cassidy made a note. “And what do you want now, then?” 
“I’m still not sure.” He made eye contact with Cassidy as he continued. “I have found people to talk to. And I’m finding some measure of safety, especially considering I won’t be asked to complete deadly tasks by my sire anymore. But I don’t know, Cassidy. I had a whole, uh, living life just a year ago and so much has changed. I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m still struggling to find my footing.”
Cassidy was writing quickly now. “And the sudden breaking of the bond didn’t help with this, as well as losing his direction, I am sure.”
Managing a weak smile, Mark replied. “No, it did not. I’m managing okay though, I think. Still, a lot changed. There are people and things I miss.”
“Certainly. It will get better with time.”
“Yeah, I guess so. You uh, help too.” Cassidy’s pen pauses for a moment. 
“You as well.” Cassidy replies quietly. “I appreciate you sharing all of this with me. I find it interesting, yet I am sure it is hard to talk about.” 
Mark scratches his neck as he speaks. “Well, like I said, you help. What do you mean by me helping you too, though?” 
Cassidy pauses first, and then speaks deliberately. “I suppose, I meant that there are things I miss too, and you remind me of them, in a good way. How is Bartholomew, also? Has he scratched up and destroyed any of your new furniture yet?” 
Mark adjusted his glasses, somewhat taken aback by the shift in topic. “Oh, not yet, but he does enjoy hiding under things. If you would like to see him, I am sure I’d be able to invite you somewhat soon, I would just have to discuss it with my roommate.” 
“Yes, I do remember you mentioning a roommate; I am curious. What is his name?” 
“Erm, JP.” 
“How did you come to live with him? Is he someone you are perhaps considering to allow into your coterie as a new member?”
“Ah, I don’t want to go into it too much, but it really just makes sense. We both are in basically the same situation and I wanted to help him out. There aren’t any issues, he just wanted some alone time and I should let him know if you’ll be coming over.” Mark smiled. “Unlike Lillian, he doesn’t have another private space to go to.
“That certainly makes sense, then. Shall we watch Fight Club now?” Cassidy was already moving to set the movie up. 
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Dammit. Mark had wanted to ask him before the movie started, but despite wracking his brain, he could not figure out how to ask. 
“You haven’t explained this movie to me yet. What is it about? Or is it intended to be a surprise?” Cassidy placed the movie in the player, and sat back down on the couch.
Was he sitting a bit closer or am I just hoping he is? Mark roused the blood to make his skin warm just in case as he replied. “It’d be better not to spoil it. I really do think you’ll like this movie, though it's not as, erm.” Mark shook his head from side to side and adjusted his glasses as he sought the right words. “Well, the themes are not as… explicit as the previous two we saw.” 
“I see. Will that be made up for in other ways?” Cassidy’s voice was entirely deadpan. 
“Oh, I’ll let you judge that for yourself.” Mark glanced at Cassidy’s notebook, which was in his lap as usual. His pen was poised to take notes. 
This time, Mark struggled not to sneak glances at Cassidy to see his reactions to the movie. Last time they watched a movie together, Mark hadn’t seen it before and had found it engrossing, making it much easier to focus. Since Mark had already seen this movie, he was much more interested in Cassidy than the screen. It didn’t help that they were sitting so close this time. Maybe he really had sat closer intentionally? 
Cassidy made notes frequently, and overall Mark observed that he appeared quite interested. He adjusted how he was sitting periodically, seemingly lost in thought, and tilted his head towards Mark. In these adjustments, most brought him closer to Mark - he still couldn’t tell if it was on purpose, but it was becoming harder to deny that it was. 
During a quiet scene, Cassidy caught Mark looking at him. By this point, Cassidy had maneuvered himself quite close to Mark, close enough for Mark to make out his eyelashes behind the reflected light in his glasses. 
They held eye contact for a long moment before Mark abruptly stared straight ahead at the movie. He felt the sleeve of Cassidy’s shirt brush against him as Cassidy then also turned his attention back towards the movie. If Mark just sat back a bit… 
And now they were touching, sitting with their arms against each other’s. Cassidy’s arm was cold for only a moment before he reciprocated Mark’s warmth.
Mark tried to relax, and failing that miserably, attempted to be very still instead, which was not so hard since he did not need to breathe. The positioning was awkward, but moving would either move Mark further from Cassidy, or require him to more overtly hold him, neither of which he wanted to do. 
Some time passed, and then, without looking at him, Cassidy spoke in a neutral tone. “Is this comfortable for you?” 
“Um. N- I mean, uh, I don’t mind.” 
“Hm. Is this better?” Cassidy shifted both forward and then closer to Mark; he was now somewhat leaning into his shoulder, with Mark’s arm almost around him. Without saying anything, Mark then moved to change that ‘almost’ to an ‘actually.’
Cassidy’s head was now close enough to Mark’s where it was in his peripheral vision even if he looked at the screen. Both kindred made slight adjustments until they were quite comfortable. 
“Yeah, that’s better. Th-thanks.” 
Cassidy did not reply, seemingly focused on the movie. Eventually, he pulled his legs towards his chest, placed his notebook in his lap, and leaned fully into Mark, crossing his arms. It was quite comfortable, really. 
This meant Mark had to shift to look at him again, which he did, unable to suppress a smile. Cassidy was right there; Mark could not have told you what was happening in the movie. He gave in to a sudden urge to touch Cassidy’s hair; tucking it behind his head, smoothing a strand, while being careful to not actually touch his face. 
Cassidy was still at first, then leaned into him more, so his hair almost brushed Mark’s cheek. Mark wished he could see his face, even if he knew he likely wouldn’t be able to read his facial expression anyway. 
Soon, the end of the movie came. As “Where Is My Mind?” played over the end credits, neither kindred moved. When the song was ending, Cassidy reached for his notebook. 
Still being essentially held by Mark, he started their customary discussion of the movie. “I quite enjoyed that, though unfortunately I do think some cultural references may have been lost on me. If anything, I should study this film further. I am curious, were you able to predict the ending the first time you watched it?” 
The credits had long since finished rolling and Cassidy had run out of questions about the movie. Fight Club had been the only thing they had discussed, neither giving any acknowledgment of their intimate position. Once they both had stopped speaking, Mark was very conscious of himself and his movements, no longer occasionally playing with Cassidy’s hair. The pair was sitting still in silence, faced by only a blue screen. 
Mark mustered his courage to say something and turned to Cassidy’s head, who at the same time turned to face him. Cassidy’s face was illuminated by the bluescreen, and his eyes looked directly into Mark’s. Their faces were closer than they had been before, in heavy silence. 
“You look handsome in this light.” Mark managed to choke out just above a whisper. “Though, you always do.” 
Cassidy’s eyebrows furrowed in a look of surprise and almost disbelief; vulnerable. He opened his mouth as if he was about to respond, but instead turned and buried his face in Mark’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. Mark felt Cassidy’s glasses press into his shoulder as Cassidy essentially nuzzled into him. 
“Oh.” Mark found himself holding Cassidy and slowly rubbing his back, unsure if he should say something else. 
They sat like that for a minute before Cassidy pulled away and made eye contact with Mark once again. His face was composed, though his hair had gotten somewhat tangled, when he finally replied. “Mark, I share the sentiment. I.” He closed his eyes for a moment, apparently recomposing himself. “I appreciate you sharing that. You, ah, probably will not be surprised to hear that I am not very experienced in this.” 
“This?” Mark raised an eyebrow, slightly teasing. 
“You know.” Mark felt Cassidy’s arm strain for a moment as if to gesture before Cassidy realized it was pinned behind Mark’s back. “Um.” 
“Yes?” 
“Well, what would you call it?” Cassidy gave a surprisingly awkward smile, slightly showing teeth even, which Mark had only seen him do once before when he first offered him a TV. However, this smile looked more anxious than happy. 
“Wha- Cassidy. You’ve said it yourself that you’re not experienced in many things. How am I supposed to guess which you mean now?” Emboldened, he reached around to fix Cassidy’s hair. 
Wait, hang on, was he about to cry? Mark got a glimpse of Cassidy’s composure breaking once again before he quickly set his glasses aside, and returned to Mark’s shoulder, face hidden. It was more comfortable than before without the glasses digging into him. 
“Oh, um, it’s alright. It’s ok.” Mark tried to make his voice reassuring; he wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong but clearly Cassidy wanted comfort. He checked his watch as he went to start rubbing his back again. Good, it wasn’t even 11 yet. “I, I like what is happening right now, if you do too. We can just do this for a while.” 
Mark felt him nod and hold him more tightly. Resolving to go at Cassidy’s pace for the rest of the evening, he refrained from teasing him further and returned to stroking his hair. He really loved Cassidy’s hair. 
The room was quiet save for the low buzzing of the TV. Mark continued for several minutes before Cassidy sat up again. This time, he sat up a bit straighter, took Mark’s hands into his own, and looked down at them.
Cassidy took a long, slow breath, seemingly just to steady himself, and finally spoke. “What I mean to say is, I suppose, is that I am not used to…” he trailed off. “To any of this.” He closed his eyes as he took another breath he didn’t need, and continued. “I don’t know what I’m doing, so once again, I will follow your lead.” Cassidy slowly started to run his thumb across Mark’s knuckles, but stopped himself, as he waited for a reply. 
“Right. Uhm, this is nice. But we should be clear on where we uh, stand.” Mark cleared his throat, prompting Cassidy to look up. Mark wasn’t used to seeing him without his glasses, nor Cassidy looking so wistful, or maybe worried, or maybe even hopeful - he had managed a trace of a smile. He stumbled over his words. “Uhm, right. Cassidy, I, well, I am, glad that I’ve met you and that we can spend time together. I uh, I like you. I’m romantically interested in you, is what I mean. Which I’m sure you can tell. God.” Mark’s voice lowered. “You know, it’s hard to confess when you’re looking at me like that.” 
Cassidy said “oh” in a very soft voice. He swallowed, but managed to maintain eye contact after a quick glance down at Mark’s lips. “I feel the same.” 
The two just looked at each other for a few moments, before Cassidy continued. “What now?”
“Whatever we want. I can stay for longer.” He started moving closer to Cassidy’s face as he whispered, “a lot longer.” 
Cassidy tilted his head and closed his eyes.
Mark felt his nose brush Cassidy’s own, and shifted to meet his lips. He started kissing him slowly, and was able to tell that Cassidy was mirroring his own movements - following his lead. Mark held Cassidy’s head with one hand and his waist with the other to shift him to a better angle; Cassidy similarly held Mark, though did not change his position. 
Mark enjoyed being able to almost teach Cassidy, in a way - the thought that this may be Cassidy’s first kiss, or perhaps first kiss with a man, or at the very least his first kiss in decades, rang in Mark’s head and he did everything he could to make it a good one, while not going too far. He kept his mouth mostly closed, only using hints of tongue. 
Cassidy whimpered softly, very nearly overwhelmed but not quite. 
Mark smiled as he kept going, maintaining the same mild intensity, holding Cassidy close, enjoying the feel of his lips and shy reciprocation of everything Mark did. This was his first time kissing anyone since his embrace, and it felt odd that his breathing remained steady despite his intense nerves. God, he couldn’t believe this was really happening. 
He pulled away briefly to look at Cassidy. He looked beautiful, staring up at him. 
After only a moment though, when Mark leaned in for another kiss, Cassidy leaned away. Seeing Mark’s look of concern, he took a breath and spoke. “That was wonderful, Mark.” Cassidy’s voice was full of emotion for a moment, making Mark’s heart hurt, before shifting to his moderate tone. “However, it’s… not something I’m used to. I need some time. As always though, I enjoy our time together, and I am sure I will even more in the future.” He stood up, and waited for Mark to follow him towards the door.
“Ah, what? Um, I mean. Ok.” Mark was not able to hide neither the surprise nor disappointment from his voice. “We- we can go slow I guess. We have eternity, after all.” 
“Indeed. I will see you soon, before I return to a formal schedule, hopefully.” He held the door open for Mark. 
“Right, uh, I will see you soon.” Mark paused in the door. “Goodbye?” He gave an awkward wave.
“Have a good evening, Mark.” Cassidy’s face was a mask.
It was very awkward leaving Cassidy’s haven. Sure, it had been awkward in the past, but it was different this time - Mark wasn’t sure why Cassidy wanted him to leave so early, even though they just admitted feelings for each other, and even kissed. Why did eternity have to wait? Why did Cassidy have to be so formal, after all of that? 
The walk up the stairs back from the chantry entrance felt like it took hours. 
Bonus:
Cassidy closed the door after Mark’s final wave goodbye. He stayed there for a moment, resting his head against the door, leaving his hand on the handle. 
Looking at his hand, Cassidy thought about how it had looked holding Mark’s. It was something he had only been able to imagine; now, it was something he could remember. He kept thinking about the sensation of Mark’s lips on his own, how his facial hair felt against his own face. The warmth of another pressed up against him - how badly he had craved that and how it was just as good as he half-remembered from over a century ago. 
Speaking of, he should write all this down. 
That thought brought him back to reality. 
The notebook was left abandoned on the couch; his attention had focused elsewhere and it had been left half open. This negligence concerned Cassidy. Even if it was in code, in the privacy of his own haven, on principle it should never be open and visible to others. 
Looking at it, Cassidy knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from crying for much longer. He quickly took the notebook and retreated into his private study, so that if Lillian got back early (against his wishes) she would not see him. 
Cassidy grabbed a cloth he normally used for cleaning and slumped into his new armchair. He missed his old one, but that had been destroyed when Lillian’s chimera got out of control. 
Now it was safe for Cassidy to let himself break. 
He started smiling and crying at the same time. The tears welled slowly, and Cassidy wiped his face deliberately each time; he knew it was healthy to cry, but it still did not come easily. He hadn’t wanted Mark to leave, though he was more patient than the fledgling and didn’t mind waiting to spend more time with him. But he could not cry in front of Mark, however, he could not have stopped himself from doing so much longer. 
He should have predicted this would happen. Perhaps he could have prepared himself better, or asked Mark to go slower, so he could keep his composure. Too late now.  
Steadying himself enough to write, he took out his pen and began recording, in his customary way, what had happened. The familiarity of it was calming. 
What did Mark say, exactly? ‘I’m romantically interested in you’, or something? 
Of course he would phrase it like that. 
16 notes · View notes
hexagonspress · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you are (not) becket by @gyzym
Here, it's simple: you and me and your dead brother are all swimming in the sick stillness of the water after the storm.
Titles: Mrs. Eaves Body text: Garamond Case title: OCR A Extended
3,079 words | 108 pages
Binderary book 2 (these are absolutely not in order of when I finished them. This was a frantic ten-minute case-in on the morning of the 27th before being three minutes late to work because I was washing my glue brush.): Pacific Rim is a story that went inside my ribcage and my brainstem and won't ever leave. It was my first exposure to a character who's dead from the beginning and who haunts the story for the rest of it and I think about Yancy Becket every two days and I will for the rest of my life. And thus, from there, I get here, where "my name is Becket and I didn't ask to be your gravestone. Like I wanted this, Becket, I swear to fucking god" is just a line that is tattooed on my brain. I've cried over this fic a bunch of times. It makes me feel ice-cream-scooped out in the middle of my chest. I love it and it needed to be in printed form.
More pictures/design/process under the cut.
Design and Construction Case and covers: Flat-back case binding with bradel board covers and spine. This was my first time experimenting with layered materials for the case, because I wanted to mirror the missing pieces that are such a prominent part of the vibes of the fic to me, and oh boy. Layer 1 was on the front board, Hollander's Mango Leaf tissue in blue. Layer 2 was a full-cloth binding with Hollander's pearl linen cloth in charcoal grey, with the upper left half of the title text cut out using a Cricut. Layer 3 was again on the front board, Hollander's Lokta paper in natural. All of the title text was cut out with a Cricut and then I ripped the paper in half (an ordeal) and glued it down with a glue stick. I chose to tear the front because there's a lot of imagery of being torn free versus letting go in Pacific Rim in general, and this fic specifically, and yknow, it felt right.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Insides: No endbands; the book was too small for the pre-sewn ones to work. Endpapers are black cardstock and torn Lokta paper. The casing in was done with PVA, gluing a small tongue of the black cardstock to the case, and then I glued the torn Lokta paper over the rest of the bare board to create a faux endpaper. The torn papers are the same idea that I mentioned with the cover. The front paper is a torn piece of a whole - Raleigh, after Yancy. Mako, after her parents, after Stacker. Yancy. The back is a set of torn pieces pasted back together - Raleigh-and-Mako, without the people they've lost. Yancy, after. I don't know. I think about this a lot. (Also, I'll come clean. The black ink on the back endpaper is eyeliner. My deepest most sincere apologies to any archivists. I don't own black ink and it was three in the morning.)
Typesetting Typeset was done in InDesign. It's nothing fancy. Grief, in real life, and in the way that it is in Pacific Rim too, is a stark thing, and I wanted to reflect that. So, no headers, no page numbers even, and just plain black page breaks for each of the numbered sections. Garamond, my beloved.
We All Do It, or, the Mistakes Section Honestly, this was one enormous oops after another. Since the book's so small each page had to be cut out individually and I won't even get started on the number of mistakes I made doing that. Then I utility knife trimmed and sanded down the edges maybe six times because I couldn't achieve a straight line (I had to change my knife blade. This did not occur to me). The top margin is like 1.3 times bigger than the bottom margin. The Lokta paper faux endpapers were because I cut the original cardstock papers an inch too short and didn't feel like cutting them again. And then the big one...I measured for the case and then didn't write down which measurement was width and which was height. The case is literally the wrong orientation and I didn't realize until I put the block in and the top/bottom margins were wrong. I'm so fucking lucky that the margins were already so small that the block covered all the exposed board so I just cased in anyway but I did have to sit on my floor in despair for a good ten minutes.
Tumblr media
Here's the French link in progress because I didn't want to end on my series of fuck-ups. This was incredibly fun but I never want to make a book this small again. That's a lie. It's going to happen again but better. <3
103 notes · View notes
Note
is so cute how jm keeps promoting and supporting jk bpp! they love and support each other, jk even said how jm promotes 3d on live. it makes me scratch my head how pjms say they want jm to stop promoting other members. i saw their pages in the tags. all they do is talk about jk and other members dragging them. all the time. they don't even talk about jm a lot, only jk and scandals and hoping bad things happen to jk and they want jm to stop promoting him. don't they know jm? you know how ppl say like idols like fans bpp? i've never seen fans so not like their idol like pjms and jm. they act like everything jm says he hates. how can they be like this?
*
Ask 2:
bpp i'm the same anon for pjm and jm. one pjm even said if they were jm's friend they want to tell him to not promote jk. why are they like this? can you pls explain this to me? i'm trying to understand them.
***
Hi Anon,
Are you asking me to explain akgae psychology to you?
Because if you are, I want to preface this by saying you're wasting your time observing people like that. Akgaes are just awful people who happen to develop a superficial hyper-fixation on an idol. Their attachment to their idol is superficial because it's so narcissistic. Their behaviours are more a reflection of their natural states than anything to do with Jimin or even how they see him.
It's why a PJM can think Jimin, who has said on camera more than once that he cuts off real-life friends who talk badly about BTS, why that PJM can unironically think they, a random 'fan', would get a listening ear from Jimin to tell him he should stop posting Jungkook on his Instagram.
Like, it's not even that they're delusional. It's that they're just really shitty people.
It's why they worship and idolize Jimin so much, putting him on a pedestal for being oh so selfless. The reality is that while Jimin is generally a very considerate person, he's not Mother Theresa (as she was known in her lifetime not the reveal afterwards lol). Most of what PJMs place on a pedestal is just Jimin being a decent human being and acting in ways other members have done at some point in different circumstances. But for them, it's the pinnacle of altruism because they can't relate. They can't imagine themselves being that kind or that decent, they can't even begin to picture the sort of relationship Jimin says he has with BTS members because they've got no analogs in their real lives. Akgaes are like judgy old nuns who pick people apart over the smallest human slights, and they actually enjoy being hateful. Hating is 90% of the reason they're here. Their happiness for Jimin stems from him introducing them to a world of six other people in the group plus their millions of fans for them to hate. Jimin has practically supplied them with a lifetime of hate fuel.
For an akgae, there's no bigger jackpot.
Nobody has to like someone because someone else likes them. It's fine if they (or anyone) dislike Jungkook, other BTS members and/or anyone Jimin says he respects. But the difference with an akgae is that their dislike of BTS members is tied to their love of Jimin, shown by the amount of time and attention they devote towards hating, disparaging, and actively looking to harm those members, while in the same breath imagining they're Jimin's friends and buddy buddy enough to tell him to ditch the members. Ditto for the other member akgaes because they all think the same way.
It's frankly kind of hilarious but also a bit psychopathic because all their actions show is that they don't actually like Jimin. They don't like who he is and what he does. They tolerate him because associating with him helps them achieve other goals through him, plus because they don't actually know him, they're more than fine believing that their own version of him is true to life.
This is also how shooters within ARMY approach BTS as a whole, relative to the wider music industry. The common thread that connects people like this, is that they aren't here for the right reasons.
But, as with all things in fandom, c'est la vie.
Jikook will still keep jikooking because nothing - not rain, not shine, not hail, not tornadoes, typhoons, droughts, floods, or tsunamis, will ever stop Jimin from gushing about Jungkook. And vice versa.
Jikook are just built different. And everybody else will just have to deal.
22 notes · View notes
erstwhilesparrow · 5 months
Note
friend-ask friday! what is the new smp show you've been enjoying today? it appears that you're having a lot of fun; what's it about?
hee. i will answer your question but first you need to know i'm picturing me screaming bloody murder in a backyard (presumably my backyard) and you peeking over the fence (you also have a backyard, we're neighbours in this scenario) and very calmly going, "oh hey, you having fun over there?" (yes, i'm having a grand time)
anyway! yes! outsiders smp! i mentioned it briefly in a different ask answer a while ago; the base plot premise is a group of people wake up in a clearing in the middle of a massive stony maze with little to no memory of their lives before, and try to figure out what to do from there. as i've said before and will continue to say, it's incredibly good. it's also bad. this is dialectics (tone indicator: lying).
more under the cut, for the curious:
the question of What Outsiders Is About (Thematically) is.... honestly not something i have totally settled in my head yet. i just finished watching the -- as far as i know -- most complete edited pov of one of the major characters, and for the first eighteen and a half hours of that pov, outsiders is an incredible story about how people cannot help but care for and about one another, despite everything about their circumstances incentivizing conflict and distrust. early on, the characters spend a lot of time arguing about whether they should go into the maze (very dangerous, if you're in there overnight the doors back to the safety of the clearing will close behind you) and people keep going, "okay, i don't care anymore! do whatever you want; everyone is allowed to risk their own life if they want to," and then the hours that follow are just dedicated to piling on the evidence that no, actually, they do care. they care immensely, or else they wouldn't keep standing in these circles arguing with each other for hours and days at a time! they build infrastructure to support one another, they offer one another places to sleep, they want so badly to do right by each other. at one point, one character muses to himself that none of them would have survived this long if they weren't all so fearful that they built secret bunkers under their homes, but like. when it really came down to it, when monsters came to the clearing to destroy it, they pulled each other down into the bunkers with them. they looked out for each other, and every single one of them survived that event.
once you hit the eighteen and a half hour mark, however, shit just STARTS HAPPENING AND THEN DOES NOT REALLY STOP HAPPENING UNTIL YOU'RE LOOKING AT A BLACK SCREEN THANKING YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT OF OUTSIDERS SMP. I REALLY DO NOT FEEL I HAVE FULLY PROCESSED IT YET. like. okay. the questions of "whose life are you willing to risk? which lives are worth saving and which ones aren't? what about now? what about now?" those are the sort of things i think are front and center, and it's not that those questions haven't been relevant before this point, arguably they've been relevant the whole time, but it gets fucking dire. and there's stuff about the horror of being in a situation where your suffering is for the entertainment of an audience, there's stuff about who is brought into or pushed out of a community and what that does to a person, there's stuff about what it means to be a good person and to do right by the people around you, but it's all kind of wildly smashed together in way that very much reads as [the people telling this story needed to (1) get as strong a kneejerk emotional reaction out of the audience as possible and (2) have the story be done, have the people who were always going to die dead, have the project come to a close]. like i was telling a friend, it feels like the first eighteen and a half hours are one story, and then the next three hours are BRAND NEW hypercondensed stories that should have had, or would have benefited from, a lot more breathing room than they got. it gets this close to working perfectly for me in a way i don't really know what to do with. i expect i am going to talking about it for A While.
6 notes · View notes
orangeprotogen · 9 months
Text
I say this all the time but conservatives and transphobes and the like are literally the only people who have the whole "But what if-" problems with pronouns. "Oh so if someone wants me to call them 'god' i just have to call them that?" name ONE person who has asked you to call them god. I know a lot of people, I've seen a lot more people than I've met, I'm chronically online for christs sake. I have yet to meet or see one person who does that. And the fact that so many of them use strawman arguments like this all the time means that we have to point it out all the time. It gets to the point where "Strawman" loses it's meaning and the conservatives don't take it literally anymore, they forget why we keep calling it that. Because that's what it is. I tried explaining to my mother about pronouns once, which was difficult for sure because she's one of those "Keep an open mind! Not me though, I'll never consider your side of the argument because Ben Shapiro told me that's what liberals do" types of conservatives. Anyway, she pulls out the whole "So what, if some random person at a convenience store happens to want to be called 'master' all the time, I have to just call them that?" and like...mother...no. You don't know that person so 1, you're not going to interact with them 2, you can just walk away if you don't like it 3, nobody has that as their neopronoun and if they do i guarantee you they don't force it onto randoms at the store because they know just as well as you should that you two are never going to meet again! Anyway, back on topic, terfs and conservatives also like to call us "Obsessed" because we want to explain simple fucking 3rd grader concepts to legal adults rather than leave them blind. WE'RE obsessed, apparently. Yeah, I've never seen anyone more obsessed with anything than Conservatives / Terfs are obsessed with trans people and pronouns. Genuinely. I have multiple autistic friends, my sibling is also autistic. They all have their interests and obsession, hyperfixations, the like. For my sibling, it's tanks. They've L O V E D tanks and tank related things their whole life! They have like over 3000 hours on War Thunder purely because they like the tanks. They've spent hundreds of dollars on tank figurines and....well, you get the point. But you know what they haven't done? Start a podcast about how much they like tanks, while talking about them 24/7. They aren't going on the internet to rant about tanks, or going up to random people and saying "Well clearly you don't know how tanks work" when tanks weren't part of the conversations. They don't randomly insult someone else or insinuate that the person is inferior because of their lack of tank info. They don't vote for people purely because the person likes tanks. They LOVE tanks, but they're not an asshole and they're not stupid. You know who DOES do all those things? Conservatives and terfs. Just replace "Tanks" with "Trans people". I haven't heard a single Ben Shapiro episode (I hear a lot of them, my parents are binge-listeners) that didn't mention trans people. That man is a walking Cognito hazard because he makes my brain rot with how much he talks about trans people. I'm literally trans and i don't even talk about it that much.
14 notes · View notes
femmeidiot · 8 months
Text
tw: religious trauma
Yesterday I went to a meeting with my dad at the church camp he works at and it was honestly so ridiculous like I just went cause he was driving me back home to another state afterward and like idk hanging out with him was fine but this fucking meeting got so weird when they were discussing changes to wording in their HR handbook and one of the things was like "appropriate touch between team members of the opposite sex is allowed" or something but within the context it's like about how they expect people to not have sex or kiss or anything idk but appropriate touch is like... super vague and weird wording. And I guess they've had issues where some of the summer staff has been uncomfortable with like being touched on the shoulder or something (which is just like idk it's super common in church things for people to be touchy and it can be really awkward cause they don't ask or anything)
they were going back and forth on this shit for so long and we couldn't leave until they were done and so I was like idk let me suggest wording because I've read a few HR handbooks in my time and also I can't keep my mouth shut, so I suggested they use terminology like "be sure to get consent for physical touch eg 'can I give you a hug?' 'Would it be okay to touch your shoulder?'" And they then basically started making fun of that concept and acting like consent was a word that is only about sexual touch. After the meeting two of the women hugged and then one of them was like "haha oh wait I should have asked" and I was so fucking mad because like ... I have been touched in so called "appropriate" ways by people in church or at church camp my whole life and it always just felt like I had to accept that. Like adults touching my shoulder or hugging me when I was a child or teenager. And obviously I know those people didn't mean any harm by it but I would have been nice to be asked if it was okay because sometimes it isn't. And also some of those experiences came from adult women also like when l was at the church camp in question and this adult woman grabbed my bra strap to move it under my tank top strap and told me if my bra straps were showing boys might think about what's inside my bra. I was literally like 12 btw.
anyway my dad was pissed at how they responded and he apologized to me about it and he also said he's been suggesting from the beginning that the rule should just be no touching because there really isn't any reason to so I'm glad my dad at least wasn't a part of that and he said like you never know what kind of trauma people have that could be brought up by something like that and anyway I appreciated my dad was not like that and he told me those people just kind of live in another world lmao but it's still like a struggle because obviously he still works there.
good god this is so long so if you read this you're so wild. But anyway everything became so clear to me by just being in that discussion I realized that growing up as a girl in the church is this delicate balance of being constantly sexualized and constantly shamed and blamed for the sexualization that's thrust upon you while boys are looked at some sort of rabid animal you are in charge of not tempting.
14 notes · View notes
woltourney · 1 year
Text
ROUND 1 / SIDE A / POLL 4
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Eleutherios (@trans-estinien) v. Katarh Mest (@katarh-mest)
Eleutherios:
q. What is your WoL name and pronouns? a. Eleutherios, He/Him
q. What is your WoL's species? a. Unsundered Ancient
q. What is your WoL's class? Or classes? a. Currently (as of 5.3 onwards) Eleutherios' main job is Dark Knight
q. What data centre/server are you on, if you want people to find you? a. Eleutherios Azem on Sargatanas, Aether!
q. Tell us a bit about your WoL! a. Have you ever thought "Huh, I wonder how the story of Final Fantasy XIV would change if Azem was never sundered?" WELL DO I HAVE THE WARRIOR OF LIGHT FOR YOU! Introducing Eleutherios! The lovable Azem who spent his days travelling Etheirys, caring for its people, and annoying the Convocation. Until everything fell apart, of course. On the eve of the Sundering, he denounced both the Convocation and Venat, choosing to find his own path to end the Final Days. Paths that didn't involve summoning gods or killing half of the star's population and then some. But Venat and the others had chosen their courses, and fate had been set. Now, Eleutherios should have died when Hydaelyn broke the world. But he did not. Why? Well, because of the timeline splitting in two. When? When a traveller from the future arrived in Elpis to learn the truth of the Final Days, of course. This traveller? Eleutherios himself. Hydaelyn had spared him from Her spell, making him Her chosen, in the same vein as the Unsundered Ascians being chosen to carry out Zodiark's will. Eleutherios believed the Ascians' plan to restore the world to what it once was foolish. Their people were dead. Nothing can fix that. They just have to push forward and make the best of the future they've been given. But his fellow Unsundered couldn't see this, trapped in their ideals of what the star should be. They needed to see it for what it is. But how could he expect the Convocation to do that, when the only one of them who ever seemed to care about the individual lives of the people was him? So someone has to fight for the new life springing up across the star. And thus began his great work. He's risen up to be the Warrior of Light countless times, over and over, for eons. With each Rejoining marking another failure. Time and time again he had to watch as everything he fought for was reduced to ash. Once, twice, seventh. It seemingly never ended. But what choice did he have? If he didn't fight against the Ascians, he was practically working for them by letting them get away with these atrocities. And so he carries onward as he's always done. But unbeknownst to him, this time was different. This time he meets the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. This time he travels to another Shard and manages to prevent a Rejoining. This time he isn't alone to face the second Final Days. This time, everything will finally be ok.
q. Why should YOU win? (Answer IC!) a. "Well, I'll be honest with you, I don't mind if I win or not. I just like participating and getting to know everyone! Oh, and I'll promise I'll hold back, for their sake. Though if they're Warriors of Light I'm sure they'll all hold up just fine! But if you want a serious answer about why I specifically should win, then…" [Eleutherios takes a moment to think.] "I should win based off of the fact that I have eons more experience in this whole 'Warrior of Light' business than the rest of them do. I've been at it since the Sundering! Not to say that my many, many years of experience is needed to be a Warrior of Light, or that I'm better than the rest, which couldn't be further from the truth. I think we all stand equal, sundered or not."
q. Anything else you wanna add? a. I have so much more lore for Eleutherios and I had to cut down this introductory essay by a LOT. I'm currently working on an extended version which covers ALL of his lore. If you want more Eleutherios content just send me an ask on tumblr, or scroll through the [#eleutherios (azem)] and [#unsundered azem au] tags! I'm always happy to talk about him!!
Katarh Mest:
q. What is your WoL name and pronouns? a. Katarh Mest, She/Her
q. What is your WoL's species? a. Highlander Hyur
q. What is your WoL's class? Or classes? a. Summoner/Scholar
q. What data centre/server are you on, if you want people to find you? a. Lamia
q. Tell us a bit about your WoL! a. Katarh grew up in Ala Mihgo, and left to study at the conjurer's guild when she was about fifteen. She lived there happily until the city fell, and her parents were killed. All her sisters survived because they too were in other city states. She served in the battle of Cartenau for Gridania as a healer, but disappeared until one day she found herself right back outside the city gates. No one remembered her. And she had no memory of the last five years. Still, there's always someone in need of healing, and she quickly found herself back at the conjurer's guild, starting over from scratch. She didn't mean to become a hero. Not the first time, and not later on. She discovered the art of summoning after visiting one of her sisters in Limsa (who DID remember her, but had no clue where she had been for the last few years) and switched from being a conjurer to an arcanist full time. Sometimes heroes are just in the right place at the right time, or so she thought. She does it because it's the right thing to do, although she wishes that she could have a bit more time to herself some days. She's middle aged, tired, and cranky. She swears like a sailor (too much time in Limsa.) In her free time, she likes to fish.
q. Why should YOU win? (Answer IC!) a. "I've seen some shit. And I'm probably old enough to be your mom. Of course I should win. Have you ever seen the size of the Nepto Dragon I hauled in two years ago?"
q. Anything else you wanna add? a. A WoL can be 45 and still be young at heart
37 notes · View notes
chaos-of-the-endless · 8 months
Text
A little fic request for @6-paris-6 that they asked for a million years ago. I'm a bad, bad writer!
I also love how Ian just ~talks until they feel like they've solved the problem. I get it. I really do. We try. lol
The Dragon Will Heal us.
Ians personal phone was ringing... at work. Everyone that they knew from the outside, which was the subtotal of about four people collectively, all knew that ringing them at work was not an option, unless death was on the horizon.
The buzzing was set to only get all the more intense in their pocket the longer it rang for. "Give me.... Three seconds... I've just gotta....." They were typing that last piece of code into Ziggy furiously before hitting the enter key and grabbing for their phone and answering it without even looking
"Someone better be dying." Their dark humor was something only the person on the other end of the phone would get.
"SOS" The persons breathless, pre-hyperventilating voice on the other end said. Oh.
"Give me ten minutes.. Meet me at Give me coffee, kay?" ... The code word they'd both divised for a certain kind of awful day, and the name of the coffee shop just ten minutes from their appartment. Save our soul, and Give me coffee or Give me death.
Having fantastic work colleagues that were also 99% of your friends group as a whole meant that leaving their genius friend Jen in charge of their very own rebooted creation wasn't a worry at all... They also knew she would find a great way to explain to the others why they'd rushed out the door with their coat half on and their bag slung over their shoulder.
"Twelve minutes. Holy shit. Two minutes over the ETA. I'm getting better. It used to be an hour." They laughed as they sat down opposite their partner who already had their hands wrapped around their coffee mug, their eyes puffy and, fuck, yeah, there wasn't much left of that spark they had before leaving on the Friday before New Year.
"I missed spending the new year with someone I love, to spend time with family that don't even respect me enough to..." They trailed off as Ian reached over the table and pealed their hand from that cup to hold in theirs.
"Hey... Honey... It's okay... We're gonna have ~so many more new years together... Maybe the Luna new year is our celebration this year.. y'know, it's the year of the mighty dragon." They smiled softly. All they wanted on this earth was to solve the problems of their loved ones and would do about anything to do exactly that.
"I.... "
"I know..."
"I don't understand.. well, I kinda do, I know it's not easy for people to change their whole vocabulary towards someone they've known their whole life but.. The ones that aren't actively throwing insults at my entire self across the dinner table are doing something even more hurtful... They don't even ~try. I think... I think that might be worse, you know?"
"I do know." While Ian always had a supportive family, they'd encountered more than one friend that they treated as family do exactly the same thing as what they where describing.
"I've tried to condone it to myself as 'I dont need them to validate me, this is a personal journey that isn't based on others' but.... Maybe it is? Does that make what i'm feeling not legitimate in some way?"
"No, not at all. It's a journey that ~is based very much on the language others use towards you. You're not looking for anything remarkable, just... The same respect everyone else takes for granted. To be acknowledged for who you are. It's.... it's so out of our control, it's frustrating at times. You lay your heart and soul out for them to see when you tell them, come out the them.. It's like you show them a part of yourself that you're not even fully done understanding yourself and they just.... Yeah.. long way of saying that I get it." They let out a soft sigh and took a sip from their own coffee, leaving a red lip stain around the papery take out cup. "Come on, lets.... go for a walk. Clear our heads. Bring your coffee." They nodded as they slipped their coat on and moved to take their lovers hand.
Nestling their arm between theirs, they headed in the general direction of.... Nowhere in particular. They took a breath. Their partners silence made them sad, talking was absolutely both their thing.
"All you can do is surround yourself with people that do understand, so those moments you go back and spend time with the ones that don't, you'll eventually have the confidence to polietly correct them. You should come to a quiz night with the team.. Watch us get every square inch of our ass kicked by some sassily named opposition..."
"I know how competeitve you get." They laughed, for the first time that whole week " - but wouldn't it be... Breaching some kinda govenment law for an outsider to be there?"
"You're my plus one. Everyone has one on the team now. It's fashionable to have a partner at home that gets you through the mental and physical torture of losing your best friend to what is, essentially, a time machine. Very en vogue." They smiled brightly over at them and shook their hand, slowing the walk to a stop to turn to face them.
"People like to ignore or judge what they don't understand... Some people come round to the understanding of a blindly new concept that not everyones the same" They rolled their eyes with a chuckle "Some never do. But there will always be a support network here for you... whether we're friends or lovers or... we'll be here. Figuring yourself out is... Far beyond any of the stuff that floats inbetween it all. You're my lover.... You're my best friend first and foremost... That will never change."
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes