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fernpost · 3 years

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Cycle 0 - Interviews

[read on ao3]

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Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.

But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.

It’s a bit rude.

It’s also a little interesting.

He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”

“Bored.”

If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”

“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.

The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”

Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”

The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.

“You’re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”

“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”

Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”

“Oh, natch.”

Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.

Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”

“Potato, potato.”

Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”

The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”

She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”

“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”

“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”

“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”

“Including common, five languages.”

“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”

Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.

He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”

Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”

Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”

Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.

Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.

Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'

So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.

But he also had a history of necromancy.

Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.

But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.

Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”

“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”

Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-

“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”

So the man is still into necromancy.

Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.

Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”

It was a really good paper.

But the man is still into necromancy.

Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.

Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.

Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.

“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”

“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.

Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.

(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)

“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”

Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”

Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”

“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.

Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.

Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.

Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.

Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.

Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.

Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.

“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”

The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”

Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.

“I was referring more to job experience.”

“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.

“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.

The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.

“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”

“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”

Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”

Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”

He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”

“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”

It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.

Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.

Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”

Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.

Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.

The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.

A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.

“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”

“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.

Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.

It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.

“Tell me about your work experience.”

Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”

“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”

Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”

“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”

“Maybe?”

Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.

Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.

Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”

The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”

He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”

What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.

The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.

She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”

“And I will not be answering a single one.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”

#davenport #taako #lup #magnus burnsides #lucretia #barry bluejeans #merle highchurch #taz balance #the stolen century #my works

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all-the-promises-at-sundown · 3 years

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Life Is Strange: True Colors

final thoughts after my first ever play through below!

sooooo I finished the game, get ready for this whole jumble of my thoughts on this game.

I took my time with it due to college etc and I wanted the time to be right for when I would play the last episode.

If you’re looking for a super detailed and well articulated review or something I am not your girl 😂. This is just a random individuals final thoughts and feelings after playing the game for the first time, which they were excited for, for 6 months and who is a big fan of the franchise in general.

So heres what I thought of Life is Strange: True Colors! -

Deck nine had a slight amount of trust from me already from their first attempt in the series, before the storm. I know that game is either loved or hated but overall I really liked what they tried to do with the game, I think they did Rachel justice as a character and it gave us an amazing insight into Arcadia bay before the events of the first game. After True colors I would say that I now 100% have faith in them as developers and I hope they stay responsible for the franchise from now on.

They created a beautiful world with incredible characters, each with their own flaws and likeable traits. I connected with pretty much every single one of them from the get go, their ability to do this is down to more mature and professional script writing! This game actually had an amazing script! It was funny, heartwarming and realistic at the best of times.

Speaking more about the characters, I personally believe this is our best set of characters to date in the franchise (this my personal opinion 😬), with Alex being the best protagonist. This is down to the beautiful performance by Erika Mori whose ability to convey the right facial expressions and emotions when needed made the game a whole other level of immersive, I was amazed by her performance as well as the rest of the cast, who were all perfect choices for the characters they portrayed. The motion capture budget certainly paid off in favour of this aspect as it brought the game and story to life.

Some personal favourite characters of mine are definitely Alex, Steph, Riley and Duckie.

Now onto the story itself, overall I think the story of true colors isn’t its strongest aspect but this is in fact hidden underneath the beautiful environment, cinematics and chemistry between characters. My reasoning for this is due to the games pacing, I found it rather jarring that you go from Alex being distraught at the time of her brothers death to only a few days later, involving herself in a town LARP, I struggled to comprehend that Gabes death had only been a few weeks or days ago during these events as even in episode two, you are straight back into the game without ever really seeing Alex’s grief and depression over the days before this chapter takes place, now I love exploring these games so I made sure to read every text and journal entry in order to properly immersive myself and the time jumps are only explained through this, so if you’re not like me i imagine this being all the more confusing. I do also accept the fact however that people grieve in different ways which gives her surprising (to me) semi cheery mood an explanation.

The main mystery was still intriguing as each episode I had a different suspect to who could have been responsible for the blast which resulted in gabes death, which was a lot of fun theorising about. From episode 3 I was sold on it being Diane and that was that but the twist that Jed was in fact responsible for the blast going ahead due to his actions years before was really well done to me, I didn’t think it was obvious whatsoever and I also liked how it added a whole other layer onto the story itself as this man spent years feeling guilty for his actions, it experimented with how far guilt pushes us to do stupid and selfish things. The twist that he worked with Alex and Gabes dad down in the mine and he made a decision that got him killed, was also unexpected and the shock of this was entertaining.

I think Alex’s power was also an amazing game mechanic as it added a whole new way of building relationships within the universe. The power itself is definitely up there for me with Max’s ability of rewinding time. Speaking of relationships, true colors uses these the best way any instalment in the franchise has, but once again due to pacing I felt as though these developed really quickly as you go from just meeting Steph and Ryan a few days ago to a close friendship (which you don’t really see the progress of) and then (if you choose to) a full blown romance, I loved the content we got with this in the game and I think the chemistry between the characters was amazing but I did find it odd due to how fast paced this all was.

Some smaller points I would like to make. The choices in this game were so much fun to decide between and I had to pause my game to sit and think logically about a lot of them which is what I crave with games like these, all the smaller side stories are also entertaining and emotional which kept me engaged with the nps. Another aspect which assisted this was the use of text messages and their version of social media, it added a whole new way to truly feel welcomed in this world and I loved it.

The track list was really good, I loved many of the songs included and it really brought back the classic life is strange vibe, sadly I did think it would have more of an impact in the game overall as I do believe it missed the mark at some points with the lack of licensed music during memorable moments (such as obstacles at the end of life is strange).

The collectible trophies encouraged me to explore the town more which resulted in more interesting encounters and memories being discovered, a system that I loved, being able to nosy in on people’s past was intriguing to me and I think it worked well.

The big question however is continue to release episodically or the whole game at once? I do enjoy the fact they kept the chapter system in the game but I did have issues with this. Episodically I think only works if each chapter had major plot reveals and developments occurring. Which is why I’d say True colors worked well as a full game release, some of these chapters are too short on their own to be released individually, I disliked the removal of credits at the end as I didn’t like the way each chapter would just cut off suddenly and take you to statistics, it would pull me out of the moment sometimes and I found it frustrating, I do however understand why this had to happen. I miss the montages at the end of an episode like we had in life is strange 1 where you’d see what the side characters were up to as a licensed track would play over this, it felt official and made me ready to move onto the next episode.

So my summarised final thought would be that i adored True Colors, it disappointed me in some aspects which weren’t many sure, but this doesn’t change the love I have for this game. The characters (especially Alex), the world, the music, the story and every other detail included within created an emotional and beautiful experience that I want to go back and replay as many times possible. I had high expectations for this game and it didn’t exceed them but it certainly met them and for that I congratulate Deck Nine as their passion for the franchise is evident.

What a rollercoaster. 8.5/10

If you read any of this, thank you 😂☺️, just thought it’d be cool to put my thoughts and feelings of this game out there.

Here’s to wavelengths!

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cantbrowsewithoutaccount · 2 years

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Wolf (2021) (opinion, kinda review)

Images are from imdb.com

I saw the trailer for this movie a few months ago and immediately thought "Well, somebody finally made a movie about species dysphoria.” Or more precisely, about people suffering from it; from this whole phenomenom that to many (including me) exists only in heated discussions on twitter and Tumblr, or in ethically questionable documentaries and reality TV shows.

When you look up this movie’s title on Tumblr, you find quite a few negative reviews from people that I assume had the same thought as I did when I first saw the trailer. Except they are not really reviews - they are angry emotions packed into words like “disgusting” and “worse than I thought”. I had to watch the movie to find out for myself. And after I did, I think the disgusted/offended view on this movie is unjustified.

This movie is not about species dysphoria.

Aside from it being my actual opinion after seeing the movie, it is also a direct quote from the director Nathalie Biancheri in one of her recent interviews:

But I also felt that in reality, like the themes that I kind of wanted to explore and the story that I wanted to tell, I didn't really want to do that, within a real world setting or necessarily have a sense of position towards species dysphoria or make a film about species dysphoria. So, that was quite clear to me early on. I have a background in journalism and documentary, so it was more like a light bulb, like a trigger and a jumping off point, but then I quite quickly departed and decided to just write my fiction narrative.

This movie is a fiction.

It is a story about a boy suffering from species dysphoria.

If you let yourself truly watch the movie and peek under its surface layer, it is a movie about finding out your identity, about one’s place in the world, and about trauma and healing and the world around you sometimes not getting you, and even hurting you in the process that is deemed neccessary (but is it really?) to help you.

It is most surely an art house piece, in my opinion. A movie you can so gladly enjoy in its boldness to embrace its unusual setting, but wouldn’t choose for a movie night with your date (especially if it’s a first date). Its thought provoking sets, costumes and ensamble of very capable actors bring forward many questions and ideas, and ideals - and I believe each viewer can catch a glimpse of something close to their heart in this movie. Be it the desire to be free, or the desire to belong.

The cast, mainly amazing George Mackay, who at this points embodies the highest standard for a truly physical performance, and Lily-Rose Depp, who brings Wildcat alive so well with her voice and body language, that it makes me mad that the reviews focus mostly on her physical feline-like features, introduces characters so full of potential, it is almost pitiful this concept wasn’t a mini series. The story is about Jacob - a boy who belives is a wolf. But there is also a girl who thinks she is a spider, and one who thinks she is a parrot, and a big man who desperately wishes to be recognized as a squirrel, to a point where he snaps off his nails, trying to will them to become claws so he could climb a tree. Wildcat and Rufus, who thinks himself a German Shepherd, both show signs (and speak) of major trauma that their condition might be rooted in.

At this point, I am starting to see the basis for the outrage people may feel with this potrayal. I cannot speak for people actually suffering from this condition. All I can declare is that I see how this could be considered at the very least a harsh potrayal.

But what I’ve gathered from this movie, is that it is a story about people suffering from species dysphoria. This movie didn’t strive to be educational or truthful about the condition. This movie strived to tell a story, and used a setting and elements of species dysphoria. Whether they did it well is up to anybody’s standards, but it does not make this movie an anti-species dysphoria propaganda - or disgusting. There are thousands of movies, low or high budget, tackling similiar (serious) issues. Sometimes gracefully, sometimes not. The best we can do is like a movie, the worst we can do is dislike it. It is just a movie.

The angry online mobs that want to burn this movie at a stake can be angry - it is everybody’s right to be angry. But perhaps we can use our energy on something more productive other than unjustly trashing an art house film. These are always hit or miss. For me - this movie was a hit. For others, it doesn’t have to be.

Movies, theatre, art, writing - these are our entertainment and creativity outlets. It doesn’t always have to be true, it doesn’t always have to be like you imagined it. If people nowadays learned to cease this group call to “cancel” everything disagreeable, perhaps we could all discover some middle ground in this world, and learn by kindness rather than hate. Too often, public calls for “freedom” by restraining others. Maybe if one looks hard enough, they can find this theme in this movie as well.

Just to round up this ramble - Wolf definitely has its flaws. In story-telling, for example. The Zookeeper (portrayed by the amazing Paddy Considine) is a caricature of evil at times - to the extent where you wish his picture was shown on the wall next to his patients’, with a stock photo of a “human” to his right, because he clearly isn’t acting like one now. There are glimpses of the supporting characters’ stories that do not have the space or time to shine, but are intriguing enough to stick in your mind. This is most likely because the story wants to focus on Jacob, who is very much deserving of the spotlight in his own right.

A wolf who wishes not to be a wolf, his howl itching just under the surface layer of his skin when he is writhing in his bed, scratching all over during full moon. At one point, Jacob comes face to face with a wolf trapped inside a cage.

“Caught by humans, and will be killed by humans,” says the Zookeeper.

But the young wolf looks into the eyes of his brother and howls.

This movie is not for everybody and the mixed reviews are very much expected, but it explores bold themes and manages to perform them with amazing skill. It chose a controversial setting that worked with the themes of the movie.

7,5/10

#wolf 2021 #george mackay #Nathalie Biancheri #lily-rose depp #movie review #paddy considine

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years

Text

Hi, Charity, I hope you're doing well. I have a question and it made me think about a lot of things. I remember reading on a post on tumblr about how social dominant people appear to be Fe when they're really not. So this did make me think about me and how I messaged you a while ago on my old tumblr […] and I gave the impression of being an IxFJ...

I mistyped as Fe for a long time, because of my strong social instinct, but… not after I understood what Te was, and saw it in myself, and read good EFJ descriptions. (Have you read mine on funkymbti.com?) You can’t isolate Fi and Fe, you have to look at the entire type, its functional stack, and gather evidence from your life to support each function. Like, if someone challenged me to defend ENFP for myself, and then write an argument for ESFJ…

I am an ENFP because I don’t think through thoughts or ideas before I share them; I often share them at the same time they come into my mind. I can’t plan a story in advance; it unfolds while I am working on it. The same happens with any project; I won’t know what I want, or what it will become, until it’s in-progress. I need zero time to decide, “This approach isn’t working,” and discard it for the total opposite approach. It’s like changing course mid-stream and not missing a beat (evidence for Ne-dom). I will share all of my thoughts, but few of my feelings; when I am actually, seriously going through deep, intense things, I will hide from everyone and not want to talk about it. If I do talk about it, it has to be in writing – it’s almost never “in person” through dialogue, because it’s easier for me to write words (and have time to edit them, to make sure I am expressing myself exactly) than to express my feelings directly. I also won’t change my mind, despite outside pressure, on the things that trigger a huge “no” within myself (evidence for secondary Fi). I work very hard to make my work as accurate, factual, and proven as I can, I trust evidence and facts more than unfounded assumptions, I love to organize things and be more efficient, and I don’t see the point of doing something if it achieves nothing; I can also be criticized as blunt, bossy, and a “know it all” by people who are doing things inefficiently (evidence for tert-Te). Lastly, my ability to retain information sucks, I forget important details ten seconds after I hear or read them, and while I remember details about the people/animals I love, everything else gets lost to the void (inferior Si). In my worst moments, I feel like my life has stagnated, I have accomplished nothing, and have wasted my life (a Si grip).

Something like that should be your goal. To study each function, where it falls in the types you are considering, and then to self-observe for a while and see what happens. I did suggest journaling, because your focus will often reveal your cognition and your subtypes (though, the latter can also be seen in e-mails/letters to friends – what do you focus on the most?). Sensors typically fill their journals with daily activities and accomplishments, with what they are learning, or thoughts spurred off what they are doing at the present moment. The journal of an intuitive will ask a lot more questions about the universe, have meandering thoughts, a lack of focus, and if you are an ENFP, huge gaps and inconsistencies in terms of “I wrote in this thing 5 days in a row, and then there’s no more entries for 5 months!” I’m not sure what Fe’s talk about (family and friends and feelings?) but as a Fi, I often use a journal as a place to hate on myself and/or explore my flaws, in Fi’s never-ending quest to live up to some “ideal of self.” My journal is quite self-absorbed, because it’s all about me, and what I am angry about, or what I am upset about, or what I am feeling in general, and my flaws. That’s a big clue. ;)

Your evidence for ESFJ seemed… plausible. So I would consider it. If you really are capable of putting your feelings into words the instant things happen, you are not a Fi. Fi’s need time to do that. To withdraw from other people, be alone, and figure out their nebulous inner landscape of emotion. EFJs and IFJs have instant emotional responses; FPs have emotional delays. Think about your relational dynamics with other types, and consider whether you understand the Fi’s in your family or not (they won’t talk about their feelings). It sounds like you are more open and sharing of your emotional state, and that you might even seem “overpowering” to Fi types because of it, which does suggest EFJ.

#question #esfj #mbti

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welovediaaxx · 4 years

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ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴅɪᴀʀʏ / / ᴀᴢᴜʟᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

part one // part two // part three

yn stood in her place stunned, teacup in hand, watching the beautiful girl walk to her uncle. iroh quickly embraces her and starts talking to his niece

yn was shocked. she quickly shakes her head and walks over to zuko to give him his tea. “what’s wrong? you look like you’ve seen a ghost” zuko says as he grabs the tea cup.

she may as well have seen a ghost. it’s not every day a random stranger comes up to you and confesses their love to you. this must have been a joke, right? would a sane person actually say something like that? well scratch that because last yn heard zuko’s sister was in fact, not sane.

“well, um your sister just came up to me and handed me my diary that i though i lost” yn tells the boy.

“you have a diary? what are you, twelve?” toph says as she laughs.

“don’t laugh toph, sokka has a diary too.” suki giggled.

“i do not have a diary! it’s a man journal.” sokka said as a blush crept onto his cheeks.

“yes, i’m sure you write all of your manly thoughts in your jurnal. like poems and songs about zuko and all of those manly things alike.” katara teases her brother as the whole table laughs. sokkas whole face gets red while he sends his sister a deathly glare.

“guys! i was talking, remember?” yn said as she sat down

“right. sorry, y/n. go ahead.” aang says to the girl with a sympathetic look.

“so azula hands me my diary, right? and she straight up tells me ‘hey, i read your diary and- oh by the way i’m in love with you’. like, who does that?” yn looks around the table and all she sees is amused and shocked looks from her friends.

“wait, so did she say it in like a joking matter?” toph asks as she raises her eyebrows

“azula? saying something in a joking matter? have you even met her?” suki interrupts her.

“she could be genuine? i mean she probably never learned how to properly express her feelings” aang says

“you guys think she has feelings?” sokka said which resulted in him getting hit in the ribs by zuko and katara. he lets out a yelp “come on! am i wrong? she tried to kill us multiple times!” sokka finishes.

“i don’t know sokka, she really changed.” zuko said as he takes a sip of his tea “wait. i thought your sister was in an institution? how come she’s back in town?” y/n asks

“she’s been out of the institution for about two years. she wanted to explore the world before coming back home. she sent us letters from all over the world every few months” zuko explained

“and she hasn’t killed anyone while on her life changing trip?” toph said as she received a glare from katara.

the topic of azula was dropped after that, but she was still all y/n could think about.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

the next day, yn gets woken up by her alarm clock at exactly 6. her head hurts just from thinking about her early shift. she only forces herself out of bed when she remembers she’s working along zuko today. she quickly gets ready and heads to open up the jasmine dragon.

when she pulls up to the parking lot she can already see zuko standing in front of the big front doors with his arms crossed. “you’re late yn, we were supposed to start getting the place ready 3 minutes ago” zuko said as he glared at the girl.

“calm down salami face. it’s just 3 minutes. i’m sure we’ll still get everything done in time” yn says as she unlocks the door and walks in. “i still don’t understand why uncle gave you the keys, and not me- his only nephew” zuko says as he starts cleaning the counter. he grabs the bag of pastries and starts putting them in the display

“well i’m obviously more reliable than you” yn says as puts everything in its respective place “and he definitely loves me more” she mutters. the next 30 minutes were spent in silence as the pair prepared for opening.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

the day went too slow for yn’s liking. it was about 40 minutes before she could be allowed to clock out. “two ginseng teas to go, please!” yn shouted to zuko as she took a couples order. zuko was on the other end of the counter frantically writing on the paper cups. yn could swear she could see his sweat 6 feet away. “coming, i’m kind of busy!” zuko yelled back.

yn giggled to herself as she turned to take te next persons order. “i’ll just have a black coffee” the voice said. yn put the order in the machine without looking at the person. “alright, that will be 2,50. name?” yn asked as she continued putting the order in. “azula.” the voice said.

the name startled yn. she quickly looks up and, there she is. the strange girl she thought about the whole night. she shakes her thought away “oh-right- um- coming right up” she manages to say as she tries looking anywhere but the girl in front of her.

“i have one more request” azula says while smirking. yn sighs “yes?”

“go on a date with me” azula says. yn is once again stunned. “sorry, no” yn says as she starts walking away, trying to get to zuko to tell him the orders. “why don’t you wanna go out on a date with me? you don’t even know me” azula says as she jumps over the counter.

yn watches her with wide eyes “you can’t be here” yn says as she backs away. “of course i can, my uncle owns this shop. he wouldn’t mind. now, why don’t you wanna go out with me?” azula asks once again.

“look, i don’t date weird girls that read my diary and then tell me they love me” yn says while rolling her eyes “look, my shift’s over in 20 minutes. i would appreciate you going out of my way and letting me go in peace.” yn says as she tries to escape to the back room, azula following behind her.

“you know i’m a very persistent person” azula says as she sits on the wooden chair next to the back room fridge. “so i’ve heard” yn says as she starts gathering all her things. “i’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. i’m not leaving until you say yes”

“so, if i say yes, you will leave?” yn asks desperately. “yes, i just said that” azula says as she flashes her bright smile. “fine! i’ll go out with you!”

“excellent! i’ll text you the details.” azula says as she starts leaving. “how do you even have my phone number?” yn yelled to the girl that was halfway through the door. azula turned her head, winked and simply left.

yn huffed as she collapsed on the chair azula was previously sitting on. she couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited for the date. the girl definitely intrigued her.

she quickly gets her thoughts in check and finishes packing her things, not being able to resist daydreaming about the dreaded date.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

taglist: @888-rising

send me an ask or message me to be added to the taglist :)

an: this chapter in sponsored by manly journals™

ty for all the positive feedback, comments are very much appreciated :) ily all so much

#azula x reader #azula atla #azula x you #you x azula #azula x yn #atla fanfic #azula fanfic #atla x reader

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five-miles-over · 4 years

Text

New Girl (High School!Commodus x Reader)

Summary: You are a new student at Institutum Romanus Educational (which is supposed to be Latin for “Roman Educational Institute”) and come across some fascinating characters (I mean classmates). Sort of based off a ‘Gladiator’ AU listicle. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: A cheesy meet-cute scene

Word Count: 1,663

When you’d came to Rome to visit your father during your winter holiday, you had only hoped it would be a temporary break from your mundane life back in your hometown. Perhaps you’d get a chance to see the quaint streets covered in frost, or visit the Tiber River. And like most children, you would get a present - maybe new clothes, or a gadget. A brochure for a new school was certainly not what you were expecting as a gift.

Yet here you were, on your first day of the new semester in January, walking to your first period. All you were hoping for was nothing but a peaceful end to your 10th year. You were now to be a student at the Institutum Romanus Educational, or IRE as many playfully called it. It was perplexing to you why a school would insist upon retaining its Latin name, but your parents said it was reinstated by its current principal Marcus Aurelius. He was supposedly an admirer of the Classics and wanted his children to have a good understanding of ancient languages.

The first period of the day was Physics, which you never had a huge affinity towards, but were certainly not averse to. The teacher was kind, and he seemed to be quite enthusiastic about the content he was talking about. After being armed with two problem sets about electromagnetism, you had to walk across the entire building to your next class - English.

Throughout the hall, many of the sights weren’t very different from your old school - there were cliques of people talking to each other, and a few couples making out in front of the lockers. Campaign posters of a girl named Lucilla Aurelius were plastered across the wall. You were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her on your way to class and by gods, the posters did not do her justice. She was gorgeous.

Flanked by two “minions” or girls wearing blouses and skirts similar to the pink-and-white combination she was wearing, she held a box of buttons that said, “Vote for Lucilla, Vote for Rome” on them. With a charismatic grin, she was passing them out to various people and telling them to vote for her for their Student Body President.

Another voice rose from the cacophony in the hallways. “I wouldn’t even know if a rat had chewed off the ends of her thin strands, that’s how ugly that girl’s haircut is.” A bald boy wearing an Assassin’s Creed shirt loomed over a girl with a pixie cut, who was crying.

He was answered by a larger boy, a seemingly more bulky one. “Quinn, I don’t think that’s how to get over being dumped. Just leave her alone.”

“Hagen, you piece of meat.” Quinn grumbled, leaving the tiny girl to pick up her books from the floor. Hagen gave her the rest of her things and sent her off to class.

When you entered your English class, you heaved a sigh of relief that you were on time. The board saying ‘Hamlet’ assured you that you had reached the correct classroom. The seats were almost all filled except for one placed in front of a green-eyed boy with cropped dark hair.

He was probably the perfect mix of gothic and preppy - his bangs were long enough to fall over his brow, and he wore a barely noticeable layer of eyeliner. His crisp, black button-down, paired with his skinny jeans and black designer boots, served as a stark contrast to the sweat pants and hoodies many of the other male students wore.

You waved politely only to find him idly writing something in a journal. It looked like something in elaborate cursive, and you would’ve looked further if the teacher didn’t begin taking attendance. And if it doing so wouldn’t make you look completely creepy.

Within moments, the teacher began lecturing about one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedies, calling upon various students to read scenes out loud for the rest of the class. A few kids named Gregory and Falcon read for the parts of Polonius, the chamberlain of Denmark, and Laertes, the son of Polonius.

You were nearly caught by surprise when the teacher invited you to read Ophelia’s lines in front of the class from Act 1, Scene 3 of the play. It wasn’t exactly on your agenda to attract much attention on your first day, but you decided to accept anyways. Standing in front of the class, you read Ophelia’s lines loud and clear while your green-eyed mystery, named Commodus, read Hamlet’s lines with passion. He seemed like he was born for this role.

“Thank you, both of you.” Your teacher applauded both of you after the scene was completed. When you returned to your seat, you saw a hand reach towards you from behind, holding a yellow sticky note. Quickly taking it, you tucked it under your knee before you could get caught.

“Commie’s passing notes in class again,” Gregory taunted, leading the entire class to laugh with him as the boy sitting behind you fumed with embarrassment. “Infatuated with the girl reading Ophelia, he seems to forget when the stage ends and when real life begins.”

The teacher’s eyebrows furrowed at Gregory’s remark. “Y/N, is this true? Did Commodus give you a note?”

“No, not at all,” you lied for him. “He didn’t give me a note at all, I just dropped my sticky notes and he gave them back to me.” Ignoring Gregory’s eye-rolling, the teacher reluctantly accepted your alibi and continued to lecture until the bell rung.

“Nice reading voice.” A boy in a burnt orange jacket offered you a kind smile as you both left the classroom. “You, uh, the new girl?”

“I am, thanks,” you nodded. “And you are?”

“The new boy,” he joked. “Sort of - I came here a few months ago from Australia. Actually Spain’s my homeland - I was born there.”

“So you’re a Spaniard?”

“No, I’m Max, but Spaniard works,” he winked, eliciting a laugh from you. “Want me to walk you to your next class?”

“If it’s not too much trouble for you,” you answered. “You wouldn’t by chance happen to know where World History is?

Max grinned. “That’s just where I’m headed. You looked confused when you entered - thought you could use a friendly face on your first day.”

“Thank you for making me feel a bit more welcome, Max.” You replied, letting him lead you through the crowd of students. Unbeknownst to the both of you, a pair of jealous peridot eyes followed the two of you until you turned the corner and disappeared.

Later that day, when lunchtime came around, your eyes widened at the color and variety of the flavorful dishes being served. It was almost like they were being prepared by gourmet chefs. You couldn’t help but smile at how pretty your tray looked; penne with a creamy tomato sauce, arugula salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, a piece of bread, and freshly cut fruit.

Deciding against the crowded cafeteria, you decided to take a chance to explore some of the other hallways in your new school. You wondered just how big your new school could possibly be. Did they have an indoor pool, a large gymnasium, a library,…or an auditorium? Holding your tray close to your chest, you walked into the large theater. In the center of the breathtakingly colossal stage, you found Commodus sitting cross-legged next to his shoulder bag and a thermos.

“Hello,” you quietly greeted him, approaching the edge of the stage and climbing up.

“Shouldn’t you be eating in the cafeteria?”, he asked, slightly perplexed, looking up from the book he was reading.”No,” you replied, placing your backpack down. “It wasn’t really my scene at my old school. I used to eat in the library or the music room.”

Commodus hummed in acknowledgment, returning to his copy of Dracula and his thermos of black coffee. “Where’s your lunch?” You asked, sitting next to him.

“I don’t usually eat any. I’m too busy.”

You pushed your tray towards him. “Would you like to share some of mine?”

“Yes, thank you.” He ripped off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the pasta sauce before chewing it. Commodus allowed himself a few more bites partially because he didn’t want to seem rude and…you seemed likable.

A few moments of silence took place while the two of you ate before you glanced at the clock. “Well…it’s time for me to go to my next class,” you commented.

“Oh…” His eyes looked slightly downcast when you told him you had to leave. “You look lovely!” You froze at his sudden compliment. “That…that was what I hoped to tell you in that note I gave you. That you look exquisite - your hair, your lips, your eyes- it reminded me of Lady Ophelia when you read her lines. You’re…you look more beguiling than she would be.”

“That’s quite sweet of you, Commodus.” You said with a small smile, flabbergasted. “Thank you, I…I’m quite flattered.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. Most people don’t understand my references or my vocabulary.” Commodus stammered, relieved that you didn’t find him disturbing for comparing you to a Shakespearean heroine. “Thank you for sharing your lunch and your time with me, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you extended your hand, expecting to shake his. “It was nice meeting you, Commodus.”

Accepting your gesture, he clasped your hand and softly kissed your knuckles, causing you to blush. Usually, princes from fairytales would do something so chivalrous. “It was nice meeting you too,” Commodus replied.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You carried your tray and backpack and began leaving the auditorium. Commodus watched you leave, hoping that perhaps you wouldn’t be like many of the other new kids, pretending to be nice before getting swept away by the popular students. That perhaps you would be…just as special as he already thought you were.

#commodus x reader #gladiator 2000 #gladiator au #commodus #emperor commodus #commodus fic

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nose-bandaid · 4 years

Text

bloom ✿ (epilogue) — and so the daisies bloom

Kino (Hyunggu) x (female) Reader | flower shop AU

this is long overdue, and i was missing hyunggu so i wrote this for you for this series shall pursue

ok on a more serious note this is long overdue and i’m so sorry for the wait. i hope you guys all enjoy and this will be the wrap of the bloom✿ series! thank you so much for sticking through and i love you all !! ~ tiny

taglist: @yunwoo

=====

You made sure you had the day off from work on your first year anniversary with Hyunggu because the two of you had been planning a date since about three months ago, in preparation for your celebration. Or rather, it was Hyunggu who had everything planned out, as he refused to let you know a single bit of what you were about to do with him today.

No matter how much you begged him to give you at least a hint, he would always just give you a cheeky smile before changing the subject. Sometimes he poked your nose too. For fun.

So when you received a text in the morning, telling you dress according to the sunny weather forecasted for the day, your mind ran wild, thinking of all the possible scenarios that could happen.

Just where could he be taking you?

He didn’t arrive that much later, giving you enough time to make yourself some breakfast and get ready, and you joined him in the passenger seat of his car, excitedly shutting the door and facing him.

“So?”

He quirked an eyebrow, pretending to not know what you were hinting at. “So what?”

You pouted. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, sir.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, sunshine~”

-----

The wind tickled your face as you stuck your head out the window a little bit for the nth time. It’s been almost an hour on the road and location still unknown to you. Honestly, you didn’t even recognize much of the area around you and had no idea where you were. When finally he turned into a quieter road in the forest, you opened your mouth.

“Are we there—”

“Yes, we’re here now.” He cut off your whining and you immediately sat up in your seat, taking a look at the view outside to guess where you guys were going. All around you though, was tree after tree with bare glimpses of a beach in the distance.

“Are you going to a beach?” You guessed.

“Oh... actually we’re not,” He replied sheepishly, eyes darting to read your expression. “But we can go there after our date if you want!”

“If we have some time left over then sure.” You hummed as you got out of the car. “But I believe that whatever you chose to do will be amazing.”

“Okay, then close your eyes.”

You cocked your head at that. “Close my eyes?”

He nodded and walked over so that he was behind you, hands gently beginning to cover your eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes of course I do, but what’s happening?”

“I just want to make the suspense last for as long as possible, you’ll be able to open your eyes when we reach the destination.”

He guided you through a rocky path, occasionally pulling you from one side to another to avoid the hanging branches and uprooted trees. That didn’t stop you from stumbling over something every so often though. After a few minutes of walking you frowned, eyes still covered by Hyunggu’s hands.

“You’re not taking me anywhere sketchy are you?”

He stopped the two of you in your tracks. “I thought you said you trusted me.” He giggled, to which you exclaimed back an “I do!”. “But don’t worry we’re almost there, I promise.”

After a few more steps on some steep incline, his hands left your face, but you kept your eyes shut.

“Okay! You can open your eyes now.” From the tone of his voice, you could tell he was filled to the brim with excitement.

You eyes widened as you looked all around you. The trees that once surrounded you were far into the distance, and now you stood in a field of thousands of white daisies, covering the clearing you were standing in.

It was stunning.

“You know that trip I went on with my friends a few months ago?” Hyunggu spoke up after giving you a while to take in the scene.

You nodded as he guided you to a spot to plop yourselves down on.

“Well we stopped by the beach you saw earlier, and then wanted to explore the forest for fun. Long story short, we got lost for a few hours — because of a certain someone — but we came upon this flower field! And the moment I saw it I knew I had to take you here. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long you don’t understand.” Partway through his gushing, he had grabbed your hands warmly into his own and he pulled you into his embrace.

“And now that we’re here, I can say I love you, y/n.” He muttered softly into your shoulder. “And thank you for showing me those daisies on that day, even though we met through... some unfortunate circumstances.” He chuckled. “And thank you for still giving me a chance when things kind of went downhill.”

You swatted the hand that dangled in front of you, blushing. “Geez you’re such as sap.”

"I’m your sap though.” He added, quirking his eyebrows, and you rolled your eyes.

“That doesn’t make you sound any better.” You wriggled your way out of his grasp to pluck one the the nearby daisies. Then, you turned yourself around to tuck it above his ear and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, to which he happily reciprocated. “But yes, you are my sap and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you shared a warm silence, taking in each other’s presence until something clicked in your mind.

“Oh!” You perked up and rummaged in the bag you brought with you when you suddenly remembered what was in it.

“Hm?” Hyunggu leaned in when you presented him a small journal and rested it on your lap.

“I brought a little something for you.” You flipped through the pages quickly to show him that they were filled of pictures of you and him together, and then you landed on the page with the picture of a daisy keychain.

Specifically Hyunggu’s keychain, hanging on the corkboard behind the register, in all of its slightly soiled glory.

“My keychain... you took a picture of that?”

“Listen, I thought it was really cute and wanted to get myself one.” You quickly defended before flipping a few pages and landing a page with a dried lilac acting as a bookmark for one of your favourite pictures you took together over the summer.

“A lilac?” He questioned, gingerly picking up the fragile remnants of the flower to inspect it.

“It’s from the lilac bouquet you bought from me for your dorm. You remember that time? One of them fell off and I just kept it as a memory of you.”

Hyunggu probably busted one of the biggest smiles ever at your words. “Aww y/n, you are so cute.”

He returned the small flower to you so that you could put it back in its former place. Then you flipped to the page that housed the rose he gave you on Valentine’s day. Much of its stem was cut off to allow it to fit on the space of the small page, but the flower itself was all there in its beautiful shade of red.

“The rose you gave me,” You explained. “I kept that for obvious reasons.”

Hyunggu’s hand snuck its way into yours as you flipped the pages once again.

“This is the last one. I kept the extra lilies of the valley from the bouquet I was making on the day you asked me out.” You said softly, pulling out the dried flowers for him to hold. “I know this gift is my own share of cheesiness, but I wanted to give these memories to you so that it’s like we’re more connected you know?”

When you didn’t get a response, you looked up nervously to see him staring back at you with a loving gaze.

You stared back owlishly back at him.

“Hyunggu?”

He didn’t budge, and you waved a hand in front of his face, taking the flowers back from him as you did.

“Hyunggu...?” You tried again, and he blinked, coming back to his senses and laughed.

“Sorry, you’re just so beautiful I couldn’t help but stare~”

“Oh so you really are a sap today, huh” You playfully smacked his arm as he pulled you back into his embrace, falling into the flowers and pulling you down with him.

“Y/n, let’s come back here next year.” He suggested, in between the fit of giggles he let out when the daises tickled his face.

“Then I expect that we’ll also be here the year after that.” You added on with a smile, laying down next to him, when he finally calmed down.

“Sure,” He kissed you sweetly, once on the lips, and once on your forehead.

“And the year after that too?” You asked, and he smiled.

“I’d stay in this flower field forever if it’s going to be with you.”

#lots of giggling hyunggu in here #pentagon #pentagon fanfic #kino #kino fanfic #pentagon kino #kang hyunggu #hyunggu #kino fluff #pentagon fluff #hyunggu x reader #kino x reader #bloom series #✿#nose-bandaid

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spnirwin · 4 years

Text

Something Beautiful

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word Count: 1,900

Warnings: Mentions of death

A/N: Here’s a small dose of angst for your Saturday night! I apparently love making people feel a little sad, myself included. But hey, who doesn’t love a comforting Eddie?!

“Seriously, you guys, just shut up!” you said to your friends. You rolled your eyes at the six people whose faces were scrunched together on your phone screen. They were all vying for your attention, shouting over one another for a chance to be heard.

“All I’m saying is,” your friend Casey said as she ripped the phone away from the others, “that you should give it a chance. Even if it turns into a one night thing.”

You shook your head in response to her suggestion. “I am absolutely not joining Tinder. And besides, I don’t…” you trailed off into silence.

“You have to try again eventually.” Casey’s voice had softened while she spoke. “You can’t hang on to Jack forever. It’s been almost a year now.”

“Listen, I’m just not ready, okay?” you said, frustration seeping into your voice. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, it’s almost time for my shift.”

Casey took the phone back over to the rest of your friends as you stepped out of your car. You grabbed your duffle from the backseat and began walking up the driveway to the 118. Your friends continued chattering at you as you stepped inside, reached your locker, and began setting your things inside.

“Hey guys, I gotta go,” you said, interrupting the current story being told. After another minute full of goodbyes and “I love you’s,” you finally hung up the phone.

“They seem like a rowdy bunch,” said a voice beside you. You jumped, not realizing anyone was there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie chuckled.

“It’s okay,” you replied, slightly breathless. “Yeah, they’re loud but they’re pretty great. They’re my old crew from back in Florida, actually.”

“Oh.” Eddie raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. “I didn’t realize you still spoke to them.”

“We’re pretty close. A little distance isn’t going to change that.” You shrugged, turning to face Eddie fully.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave Florida then? It clearly wasn’t a work issue,” he said, gesturing towards your phone. He seemed genuinely curious, but you weren’t ready to give him a straight answer.

“I was running,” you said softly. “But that’s a story for a different time.”

Eddie gave you a knowing look. “If you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

You gave him a small smile before turning and walking out of the room. As you went you reached up, searching for the chain hanging around your neck. When you found it you gripped the ring it was attached to, an instant feeling of calm washing over you.

—

The 118 had been the place you called home for three months now. You had been convinced that a fresh start was what you needed, but being away from all of your friends and family in Florida had taken its toll on you. Your new crew had seen you struggling and taken it upon themselves to help ease your transition.

The level of gratitude you felt towards them for that act of kindness was unparalleled, but you felt guilty at the same time. They had no idea they were only getting a surface level version of you. You had walls built up so high that they didn’t even have a chance of reaching the real you on the other side.

“So, you got any fun plans after shift?” You looked up from the journal you were scribbling in as Buck slid into the seat across the table from you. You were sitting in the kitchen, with everyone else in various positions throughout the room.

“Nope, not today,” you replied. “I’ll probably just go home and catch up on some things I’ve been putting off. Like the massive pile of laundry sitting next to the washing machine.”

“Oh, come on!” Buck threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s Saturday, you should be doing something fun. At least come out with us tonight. We’re going over to that bar on 24th Street to grab some beers. It’ll be fun.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes in response.

“You should definitely come!” Hen agreed as she walked by.

“Yeah, you never hang out with us!” Chimney’s voice had a noticeable whine to it and you found yourself on the verge of another eyeroll.

“Lay off guys,” Eddie piped up from his position on the couch. “She’ll join if she wants to. I’m sure you pressuring her doesn’t make her want to come any more.”

You shot him a grateful look and he smiled in response. When you turned back to Buck you found him smiling, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“We’ll see,” you sighed, and, sensing victory, he pumped his fist in the air.

—

You took a deep breath as you approached the bar. Pausing in front of the doors, you looked up at the sign. It was named “Jack’s,” and you shook your head. It seemed there was no escape no matter how many miles you traveled.

With another deep inhale you reached forward and pulled open the door. You spotted everyone immediately. They were the largest, loudest group in the small bar. You stepped into the room and caught the eye of Bobby. He shouted and waved you over and you complied, crossing the room quickly.

You slipped into an empty seat next to Eddie as everyone greeted you. As you got settled he leaned closer and whispered to you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too,” you replied with a smile.

As the night progressed you found yourself loosening up with every sip of beer. By the time 10:00 had rolled around, mostly everyone had dispersed to various corners of the room to play pool or darts. Only you and Eddie remained seated at the table, chairs now turned to face each other.

“So, are you ready to tell me that story yet?” Eddie inquired, shooting you a look.

You sighed, picking at the label on your beer bottle. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“You’re gonna have to tell it eventually, right?” Why not now? It’s just us here.” You looked up at him and found him looking back at you earnestly.

“Okay,” you said, setting your beer down on the table. You chose your words carefully, unsure of where to begin. “When I graduated from the academy four years ago, I got super lucky with my placement. I got put at a firehouse in Tampa, Station 154. The crew there was amazing. They welcomed me into their family instantly, not unlike you guys.” You paused, gesturing around you.

Eddie nodded with a smile and you continued. “I fit in there well, and grew to love each and every member of that crew. Some more than others.” A short laugh huffed out of you. “I started dating one of the other firefighters, Jack. He was my entire world. It was the best day of my life when he proposed to me. And then he died.”

The words rushed out of you, unstoppable now that they had started. “It was a car accident. He didn’t even get to go out on duty. No, instead it was a thunderstorm. He hydroplaned, and it sent him into the other lane.”

Despite your best efforts at holding them back, tears began to drip slowly down your cheeks. Eddie reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “After that I saw him everywhere I looked. In our apartment, at work, at the grocery store. No matter where I went memories followed. I knew that if I wanted to survive Jack’s death I needed a fresh start. So I did what millions of people have done, and I came to LA.”

“Hey, I get it,” Eddie said. “I did the same exact thing, you know that.” You looked over at him and nodded. He had told you the story of how he and his son, Christopher, came to be in LA a while ago. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. Losing someone you love is never easy, but I’m proud of you for having the strength to tell me about it.”

A few more tears slipped down your cheeks as you gave him a small smile. “Thanks for listening. I haven’t talked to anyone about it that didn’t experience it with me. Saying it out loud like that definitely helped.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “Hey...I have an idea. Want to get out of here? I have something I want to show you that I think will make you feel a little better.”

—

Twenty minutes later you were walking with Eddie down Santa Monica Pier. Despite having been in California for months, you hadn’t explored anything outside of the neighborhood surrounding your apartment. While you looked around you in awe, Eddie looked only at you. Despite having gone through some trials of his own, he couldn’t believe how strong you continued to be after losing your fiancé.

You spent three hours exploring the pier, walking around and talking. As the night stretched on towards 2 AM Eddie made the executive decision to head home. He drove you straight to your apartment, declaring that it was too late for you to drive and he would help you get your car in the morning.

He pulled up to your apartment building and put his truck in park. You took off your seatbelt, simultaneously turning to face him. “Thank you for tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. I haven’t felt this at peace in a long time.”

You reached out and laced your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled in response, no words needed.

You pulled your hand away from his and opened the door. “Drive safe, okay?” you said before closing the door and walking into your building.

He watched you walk up the steps and made sure the doors closed safely behind you before driving away.

—

Over the course of the next several weeks you found yourself growing closer to Eddie with every waking minute you spent together. It was as if the night on the pier was a turning point and you were now sliding closer to something beautiful.

You found yourself engaging in hidden looks and discreet touches throughout the course of your shifts together. Eddie was letting you take the reins, and for that you were appreciative. You hadn’t expected to be feeling this way for someone again so soon, but here you were anyway.

You were once again standing outside of your apartment building, this time with Eddie joining you on the front steps. He was dropping you off after one of your now standard post-shift breakfasts.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” he chuckled.

“What?” You snapped back to reality and looked into Eddie’s amused eyes. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how I really want to kiss you right now.”

You took a step towards him and his smile faded into a more serious expression. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, a concerned look in his eyes.

You nodded as you stepped impossibly closer. “Positive.”

He smiled as you leaned up and pressed your lips to his for the first time, a new beginning on the horizon.

—

#eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz oneshot #eddie diaz drabble #eddie diaz fanfic #eddie diaz fanfiction #9-1-1 #9-1-1 oneshot #9-1-1 drabble #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 fanfiction #shannon writes

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rexcoatlarchive · 3 years

Text

Welcome to chaldea

Time to explore how the hell Rex even got to chaldea in the first place.

*in a suburban home somewhere in Kansas, laying in his bed was the man who would eventually be thrown into some magical bs*

*phone rings*

Me: *picking up the phone* hola?

Gramps: Hola mijo!

Me: oh hey gramps

Gramps: how are doing today?

Me: I'm fine, and you?

Gramps: bien , muy bien. Hey, you think you can come over? It's kind of important.

Me: uh sure I guess I could.

Gramps: and make sure you come alone

Me: oh... OK.

*later on right outside a pretty dingy looking house*

Me: *driving up to the building*

Me: here we are. Wonder what he needs

*enters the house*

Me: gramps! You in here?!

Gramps: *from another room* over here mijo!

*Rex walks to a room that looks a bit like an office. And there at a desk sat an older kinda short looking Mexican man*

Rex: hey Gramps. You wanted to see me?

Gramps: si mijo! There's something I need to tell you about.

Me: uh sure thing, what is it?

Gramps: ...you ever heard of magic mijo?

Me: *already concerned* uh.... yeah.

Gramps: you think it's all just nonsense and fairy tails don't you?

Me: well all evidence I and the world at large have seen points towards it being bs, yeah.

Gramps: well what if I told you it was all true, and all magic users have been keeping it a secret from the rest of the world?

Me: what like Harry Potter? Well first off I'd be concerned about your mental health somewhat.

Gramps: hahaha, yeah I imagine that's an appropriate reaction. But what if I showed you this *just fucking makes fire appear out of his hands*

Me: .....well then. Is it real?

Gramps: course it's real. Try to feel it

Me: *reaches hand out, it's actually warm* ...how the fuck?

Gramps: like I said, magic! Well we call it thamaturgy, we don't consider it true magic.

Me: then wtf is true magic?

Gramps: the stuff of dreams! The things some true magicians can do are beyond imagination and even comprehension!

Me: well then... why are you telling me all this now? Who else knows?

Gramps: no one else in the family. I've kept this a secret for ages.

Me: ages?! How old are you?

Gramps: oof! I don't even remember! But I will say my earliest memory is of some Spanish fools asking about a golden city. And even then I wasn't exactly a spring chicken

Me: *thinking about how old that could be* holy... so you can keep yourself young with magic?

Gramps: yeah, most mages don't but a few dabble in it.

Me: why keep it a secret for so long? And why start talking now?

Gramps: well to answer your first question, it's because most of mage culture is horrible and lacks morality almost entirely.

Me: ...huh

Gramps: and almost all mages are fools, refusing to adapt with the times. They're obsessed with the old ways, it can get downright pathetic honestly!

Me: interesting... again why now?

Gramps: well I figure it's time to stop extending my life so damn much and open the way for the next generation, as in you!

Me: Me?! You want me start doing magic?

Gramps: yup!

Me: why me? Why not dad or mom or someone?

Gramps: because I've been specifically getting you ready for this. Your magical circuits are the best in the family, the only ones that compare to mine.

Me: ...my what?

Gramps: they're called magical circuits. It's the part of the body that allows people to practice thamaturgy in the first place.

Me: so it's genetic?

Gramps: yeah, almost every generation after me had subpar circuits. Slowly over the generations I did small experiments to ensure that eventually I will have a proper successor. Nothing too bad, no one would've noticed. And you are the culmination of that work.

Me: feels really weird to be called the culmination of your work.

Gramps: yeah, that's an understandable reaction. Don't worry, I never needed to do anything to you. You were born ready to go. I just needed to wait until you were old enough.

Me: alright. So how do we start this? You start teaching me how to do this?

Gramps: early on I did have that in mind, but then a friend of mine starting working on something that I think would be better. You see, in the world of magecraft I'm actually kinda infamous. I'm a bit of a black sheep compared to the rest of magus society. Instead of focusing on 1 type of magecraft I decided to travel all around and learn as much as I could.

Me: so you're a bit of a jack of all trades?

Gramps: yeah, that's a good way to put it. I made many friends and enemies in my travels. And many want to know all the secrets I have, because I know forms of magecraft that many would love to get their hands on. For example, I'm ages old but don't look a day over 80 right?

Me: yeah.

Gramps: usually for other mages to achieve this many sacrifices are made, like sanity or their bodies start to deteriorate. But not me! I have access to magecraft that's long since died out.

Me: damn

Gramps: and all those secret will go to you. Or atleast most that I can give. And automatically once I die, all my enemies will be your enemies.

Me: WHAT!?

Gramps: but! Then I heard a friend of mine, from the animusphere family started working on something called the Chaldea security organization. And he needs mages, I talked to him and ensured that you'll join. And in return he'll ensure no one can get to you.

Me: so I'll go their to learn instead of you?

Gramps: yup! Soon enough I'll transfer my crest, which what'll you need to get started, you'll receive a phone call to confirm your participation. Then eventually someone will come get you, and you'll get started from there.

Me: so it's like a job? And is it OK for them to get someone so new to this?

Gramps: they just need bodies, and yeah it's basically a job. But you'll be staying there. So I'm basically forcing you to finally be independent and move out of your parent's home

Me: I'm only 20, it's not that bad.

Gramps: still, this has been set in motion. Are you prepared for what's coming?

Me: not even remotely! But I have very little say do I?

Gramps: nope!

*eventually after a few days, Gramps transfered his crest over to Rex. Eventually Gramps passes, and Rex just waited*

*phone rings*

Me: hello?

*a female voice is heard*

Olga: hello, this is the director of the chaldea security organization. I have a note from the previous director to call this number on this day. Are you the successor of that... unique magus who passed recently?

Me: yes I am.

Olga: and am I correct to assume that you've been informed of your involuntary recruitment into this organization?

Me: yup

Olga: ok, I'm not going to force you to join but I will say it is in your best interest to join. Once other magus find out about you, and they will, you will likely not be safe.

Me: yeah, he made that clear. I've already prepared myself to join

Olga: excellent, a car will be coming tomorrow to take you to a plane. From there you'll be taken here.

Me: alright then. Is that it?

Olga: that's all, see you soon enough

*the phone is hung up*

Me: kind of annoying being thrown into this. But from what I've heard it could be worse. *looks at an envelope left by gramps*

*on the envelope it says "don't open until you get there, and make sure to bring the feather"*

Me: *holding said feather* he gave me this thing ages ago. So I guess this was him getting me ready for all this? Wth does a feather have to do with magic anyways?

*the next day on the plane*

*Rex is seated next to a pair of twins*

Rikka: *trying to start conversation* hey there!

Me: hi

Rikka: what's your name?

Me: you can call me Rex

Rikka: well hey there Rex! You can call me Rikka, and this is my brother Rikko!

Rikko: *is sleeping*

Rikka: *elbows him* wake up bro!

Rikko: huh? What?

Rikka: so why'd you decide to join up?

Me: was kinda forced into this by gramps

Rikka: your grandpa forced you to join?

Me: oh, he's not actually my grandpa. Everyone in my family just called him that because he's older. And yeah I was forced essentially, because a lot of magus don't like him apparently. And as his successor I'm apparently going to have a target on my back. But he said the director would promise my safety if I joined so... yeah

Rikka: well that's kind of messed up! But that's mage culture for ya!

Me: man every time I hear about mage culture, it's non-stop misery and dread

Rikka: do you not know much about mage culture?

Me: no! Just a month ago, magic would've been considered fairy tale nonsense to me! But now I'm being thrown into something I barely understand to stay safe from who knows what!

Rikko: that's very weird. Normally it's driven into your head from birth

Me: but not me! Even the rest of my family knew nothing until I showed them some of the basic spells gramps taught me! He's left me with very little while throwing me into this crazy world. It's kind of weird because he was always that cool relative that was a blast whenever he visited! But now he's the man who threw me into this magic hell and then died! All he's left me with is this journal to figure out basic magecraft and this bite and feather

Rikko: feather? Why the feather?

Me: good question. The note might explain but it says to wait until we get there.

Rikka: well when you do open it can you tell us?

Me: sure I guess

Me: but I've gone on long enough, why are you guys joining?

Rikko: well we just needed some work and independence, and our parents heard about this place and said we should join up

Me: that's it?

Rikka: yup!

Me: huh, ok then

*eventually once at chaldea and after the huge presentation at the beginning the 3 are walking towards their rooms*

Me: man you two kept falling asleep, if I weren't there to keep you guys awake who knows how the director would've reacted. And also thankfully that Mash girl told us the right way to go to our rooms

Rikka: *still sleepy* yeah, thanks for that. And thanks Mash

Rikko: *also sleepy* so where's our rooms anyways?

Me: *stopping at a door* right here it seems

Rikka: cool! Let's get in to read your note already!

Me: don't you want to get into your rooms first?

Rikka: that can wait! I'm too curious right now!

Me: alright then

*the door opens and sitting on the bed is a man with long red hair tied in a pony tail is seen eating cake, along with him is a dark skinned woman with dark purple hair*

Me: uh...

Rikka: hey there?

Rikko: did you get the wrong room?

Me: no... it says right on the paper

*the two on the bed stand up*

Romani: oh sorry about that we were just kind of taking a quick break, this room had been empty for so long we just used it to hang out.

Me: huh... well sorry but I've been assigned to this room.

Rikka: who are you guys anyway?

Romani: I'm Romani Archaman, the head doctor around here though most people call me Dr. Roman. And this lovely woman is my wife, and assistant

Mrs. Archaman: hello there

Me: oh the head doctor huh? Interesting

Rikko: nice to meet you doc

Rikka: ...you guys both have fluffy hair

Roman: yeah we get that a lot

Mrs. Archaman: mostly me though. People always want feel my hair

*out of nowhere comes a little white animal*

Roman: oh is that the fabled mystery creature Mash told us about?

Mrs. Archaman: oh how cute!

Me: wtf is he?

Rikko: squirrel?

Rikka: cat?

Roman: no idea, my first time seeing him

Roman: come here little guy, I'll give you a treat

Fou: fou fou!

Roman: wait a minute, what's with the pitying look in his eyes!?

*all of a sudden the lights go out, thanks to the explosion*

Well that's the pretty much the story

Really wanted to finally show how Rex got into chaldeas in the first place.

Tagging some folks @panyum @grievouslyxorvia @gxymlky @hasereshdoneanythingwrong

Kinda wonder if people will realize who the mysterious wife is

#fate grand order #mastersona #gudas #romani archaman #mrs. Archaman #olga marie animusphere #gramps

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breadcaaat · 4 years

Text

part seven

jeongguk x hybrid!reader

words: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of rape and revenge porn

“I wasn’t born in Seoul. I’ve actually only lived here for a couple of years.”

“Where were you born?”

“Busan.”

She nodded, as if she knew where that was. He bypassed explaining Korean geography and continued.

“Anyway, I came here for college three years ago with Da Eunae - my high school girlfriend. She was studying to become a teacher and I wanted to get into videography… ” He picked at his fingernails. Move on, he thought. It was a bittersweet subject. He had little to no possibility of pursuing that career now. “Anyway, about half-way through my freshman year - I’d just been meeting all sorts of new people, you know, and I realized that I didn’t really love my girlfriend anymore, so I broke up with her. I wanted to explore, and she was too possessive. Like - if I talked to anyone female she was immediately suspicious, but she wouldn’t outright accuse me, if that makes any sense. She’d just give me the cold shoulder, but also be super - super clingy at the same time. I mean - clingy isn’t bad, though! It was just the wrong type and so…” Move on, move on.

“Right, I explored. There was stuff I was curious about - different scenes and people and stuff - and I’d also been questioning my sexuality for a while at that point and decided to just kinda… put myself out there. Had a whole new friend group in two months and they were awesome. That’s actually when I met Hobi-hyung. There was a dance workshop second semester, and he was in his senior year so he introduced me to a lot of people. Everyone likes Hobi.”

“Is this the one you went out for drinks with?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, and he felt himself relaxing a bit. Freshman year had honestly been great, even with the angst of letting his old girlfriend go. It’d been a relief, with time.

“During the summer after, I did a photography internship with a local journal and spent some time back in Busan - pretty uneventful. Fun, though. And at some point I decided to really,” he cleared his throat, and the tips of his ears dusted pink, “explore, and I started… sleeping around.”

Y/N nodded, chin propped on his shoulder. She seemed unperturbed.

“Boys and girls,” he clarified. If he was expecting a reaction he didn’t get one - besides a little cock to her eyebrow as if asking And?

He couldn’t help but prod. “That’s not weird?”

She shook her head. He seemed hesitant to let it go though, so she clarified. “My lover in the cages likes boys and girls, too. I’ve slept with other women. Thought it was normal. If you wanna have sex with someone then… you wanna have sex with them, and that’s it.” A small pause, and a little furrow appeared between her eyebrows. “Is it weird?”

Jeongguk hadn’t stopped processing the first statement yet. “You had a lover?”

She nodded, looking a little puzzled now. The spotlight was supposed to be on him, not her. “Yeah; an ex-stripper.We shared a cage and were pretty tight…” Then she shook her head, focusing back on the subject at hand, “I’ll tell you about him later, though. I still don’t know what - this was all about.”

He nodded and cleared his throat. Right, yeah. He’d pursue that line of questioning later.

But, honestly… he’s still not sure what happens next in the story. The effect on him, yeah. The result, sure. But the cause?

He still has no clue.

“And then, I dunno.”

“You don’t know?” She seemed thoroughly confused as to the connection between this history and his anguish about it.

He sighed, heavily.

“I don’t know. I started sophomore year, and then suddenly there was this huge following online where people posted… videos and stuff. Of me having, um, sex. I didn’t even know videos had been taken. And most of the videos were with the men I’d slept with. They got posted to this porn website and a couple people from the college got ahold of them and they circulated - and then that was that.”

He was silent for a second. The turbulence of his confusion then affected him even now. When he next spoke, it was quieter.

“The only people that stuck around were Hoseok and Eunae. I think my friends couldn’t look at me without seeing what they saw in the videos, you know? I don’t… blame them. It’s weird.”

She was silent for a minute.

Then she got huffy.

“I do. And fuck your ex, dude.”

Finally, he turned around. “What?”

“I know my hearing is better than yours but you can’t have that shitty a sense of - ”

“No, what do you mean by what you said?”

“I meant to say fuck your ex, she sucks.”

There was a long moment where she looked at him expectantly. Like whatever connection she’d made was obvious.

He gave her a look.

“… You really don’t see it, huh?”

He shook his head.

The deep inhale she took he could then feel against his back, and the two of them swayed with it. It was heavy. She was preparing to say something just as heavy.

The breath came out in a rush. Her head tipped forward and tapped his shoulder. Mutedly, he noticed how soft her hair had become. It cheered him up a little.

“When - when you get turned into - into… a hybrid. Like me, um…”

The stutter was something he hadn’t heard in a while. He watched in surprise as her ears folded back against her head, as she curled in on herself - almost hiding behind him. It was her turn to avoid eye contact now. It made him apprehensive, but he was focused on her more now than he had been all day.

“Go on,” he murmured. She nodded against his shoulder.

“The way it works is you get, um, commissioned. Somehow, before it all, you catch someone’s eye - someone with money - and they get in contact with Sheepdog, and then they commission you. They describe what animal they want you to be, and look like, and act like, and how they want you trained and… you lose everything.”

Her voice was so quiet. He felt like the whole world was contained in just this flat.

“They take your memory, and they keep taking it - I don’t know how; they don’t tell us. But the lab is where you feel like you’re born. I really don’t know how to describe what it’s like being - being born as an adult, but… that’s how it is, and you’re sensitive and vulnerable and everything hurts. You want someone to take care of you and coddle you and protect you and - and touch you, so badly it physically hurts. Right in your chest. It’s like a, a twist. But there’s no one, and every time you reach out for comfort it’s denied. It hurts every time. It never stops hurting.”

As tender as he could manage, his fingers wound into hers where they were still kneading at his hoodie strings. She relaxed a little.

“And then your owner comes. They throw open the door and sweep you away to a place where there’s food and luxury and nice clothes, and they act so nice and they - they touch you. They worm their way under your skin while you’re still like that - all, all innocent and scared - and they seem like saviors. You think that everything will be better and that it’s so good you’ve left that dark, scary place, but ultimately…”

She scrounges up the courage to look him in the eyes then.

And for the first time since they’ve met, it really hits him just how scary her life has been. He understood that it was dangerous, but not scary. Not like the dark is to a child.

“Ultimately, your owner put you there.”

She finishes, and seems to hold her breath. She’s looking for that click behind his eyes. He has to see the connection now. She hopes he does, and that he sees how he’s been wronged. That he spots the parallel.

And really, he doesn’t get it - until he very suddenly he does.

The click she was looking for happens, and he feels sick. The few bites of ramen he had were craving a return to the open air.

It was no secret Eunae wanted him back. And no secret that she was competitive - it was one of the things he thought was attractive about her in the beginning, because he is too, and also one of the qualities that eventually drove him away. After he dumped her, she must’ve felt like she’d lost somehow. And - lemon juice in the wound - to men. She’d always had a problem with that, too. Boys kissing boys and girls kissing girls. She’d always said it was gross. He never bothered to correct her.

So, it was plausible.

It was plausible that she’d wanted him back so bad that she’d engineered a “dark place” - paid off or convinced or whatever’ed some of his partners into filming him when he wasn’t aware, and then got her hands on those videos and posted them. The result: he lost his friends. And she made a now obviously convenient return into his life, open-armed and honey-tongued.

Ultimately, she put you there.

A new flavor of bile.

It’s bitter. Tinged with some emotion he can’t quite place. Something primal and angry and feral. He’s lost so much because of some girl’s - what, pride? Jealousy? He lost basically everything because of an ex?

But take a step back. She may also… not have. He might still be the unlucky victim of some - admittedly - very coordinated bullies.

And when it came down to it, it never mattered who did this to him. The result would still be the same no matter where the blame lies. He still lost everything. He lost his friends, and his college, and his career… his family. They left him, too -

“You’re crying.”

A finger brushes his cheekbone, wicking the water away. He’d been so in his own head for the past few minutes he hadn’t realized.

“There’s more?” she guessed.

He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes with too-scratchy sleeves. “Yeah. Yeah, there - ” his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and went on, “ - there is.”

“Tell me.” Gentle. Firm.

Another long, too-long pause.

“One of my professors saw my videos.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, but - he didn’t, like…” Another sigh, this one frustrated. “It hadn’t reached my family yet, so he blackmailed me.”

He didn’t elaborate further. Whatever it was seemed more painful than the rest.

She prodded anyway. “Into?”

“Into letting him fuck me.”

She blinked.

“He just… really liked what he saw in those videos, I guess. And someone got a picture! And it got into the news and then the school ousted me and then - !“

“Breathe,” she reminded him. More tears were budding at his lash line, and she wiped them gently away. They spilled and rolled over his cheekbones.

He sucked in a breath, then continued. It was like he’d opened the floodgates. Now he had to get everything out or he felt like he’d die. “And then my family learned about it anyway. My parents were never rich. We were relying on my uncle - he’s got a lot more money - to help me out financially. I was already on thin ice before for my major. And then it came out that I was - I was fucking guys and getting fucked by guys and sleeping with my professors and coaches and whatever the fuck else and that support was yanked out from under my feet like a rug. And then I had no job, so I was completely broke, and then I broke the phone I had and… “

“And?”

“And I’d never memorized my parents’ numbers. And they don’t know how to use the internet well, even when they have access, which they usually don’t. So I haven’t talked to them in…” He used to keep count of the weeks; he used to remember. It hurt to, though. He’d stopped.

“… In a long time. And that’s all. That’s my fucking - sob story, so, uh, take it or leave it I guess.”

She doesn’t speak for another long, long minute.

“Does talking about this at least feel any better?” she whispers.

“I don’t know what to feel.”

So she grips him tight, leaning to the side so they both topple over into the pillows.

He’s not usually the little spoon.

… It feels nice.

“How would you feel?” he asks after a minute. The cuddling is soothing, and he’s feeling braver now.

“Hm?”

“Like, if all this happened to you and you were me, how should you feel?”

“Well, is this a would or should scenario?”

He chews on that for a second, before answering, “Would.”

“Angry.”

“Should?”

“Angry.”

He scoffs. “Don’t you lose the moral high ground, then? Anger is all… evil and stuff.”

“Bullshit. Anger is perfectly moral.”

She doesn’t explain further, but he’s curious now. Perhaps he does feel a little better.

“… How so?”

“Here, roll over.”

“Huh?”

She loses her patience very quickly, gripping him by the waist and rolling him over herself. They’re face to face now. His nose is almost touching hers, and it makes his breath catch in his throat.

(Her face is really pretty.)

“Anger is perfectly righteous, and you wanna know why?”

Suddenly feeling very shy, he just nods. But that’s a bad idea because it makes their noses brush and he can’t help but imagine a different flavor of the sleepy mornings they share. Mornings where instead of blanket tug-of-war and nipped ears there’s just the gentle press and slide of soft lips and -

She must sense he’s not completely there, reaching up to pat at his face. He needs to hear what she has to say. He deserves anger. He blinks.

“You deserve anger.” Good start. “You deserve it because - because you’re worth it. You - you’re worth something, and because of that, you deserve to feel anger over how you’ve been mistreated and stepped on because everything that’s been done to you is wrong. Any moral standard that doesn’t allow you anger doesn’t allow you to defend yourself.”

Her hand’s stayed on his face. She lets her thumb brush the reddened rim of his eye, hoping that her fingers are cool enough to help with the swelling. She doesn’t like seeing him cry.

“And I understand that you gotta fight for the ability to feel angry for yourself but I - I just… that’s why I would and should be angry, if I were you. You deserve that anger.”

The urge to close his eyes and lose himself to the weight of her palm on his cheek and the gentle brushing of her palm is a strong one, but he forces himself to keep them open and look at her.

“I’d get angry,” she repeats. Her voice is a whisper. “And I’m angry for you.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees with her; at least not at first. But he tries to take it in the context of her life. Anger is what she’s learned it to be, not what society has said it is. So to her, anger is a different entity.

To her, anger must be justice. It’s her drive for justice.

And he’s on board with that.

He’s angry.

A/N: of course, now that im seven chapters in, im starting to dislike the chapter style. im thinking of - when this is all finished - doing one last collective post with all the parts in one, so its just a ~40k beast

tag list: @feed-my-geek-soul @not-novoa @astronomyturtle @anoushe01 @seokchella @dinorahrodriguez @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @studiojoonie

tag list glitches: @infiressnct @starryannaaa

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thronesofshadows · 3 years

Text

All I’ve Ever Known || Miriam & Evelyn

TIMING: A couple weeks ago LOCATION: Miriam’s home PARTIES: @meflemming and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Miriam and Evelyn are not soft, not one bit.

As the days got shorter, Miriam was given more time to enjoy the day, to leave the darkness of her rooms and take in the darkness that the world had to offer. She would give just about anything to walk about in daytime, to have a use for expensive pairs of sunglasses and wide brimmed hats. But… nights weren’t so bad, when they were shared with someone. Not that Miriam would admit that, were anyone to ask. She needed to do well, to keep such affections out of her head and her heart, if she was to maintain her resolve to keep doing what she had to. And she had to. It was not just because she thought the world needed to be rid of witches (she did, though, she really did; she kept telling herself that she did). It was a need, a bloodlust that wanted, needed more than just blood to be satisfied. Still, it was hard to maintain such resolves, to keep such affections at bay, when she walked into her home and it felt like someone actually lived there. It was different, when Elle was around watching the place while Miriam went out. Now, there was an actual person, staying not because she was paid to but because she’d been invited. It was nice. Miriam told herself that it was just because she appreciated not having to pay Elle for such trivial things as she walked to the kitchen and set her keys down on the counter, but she couldn’t help the way her features softened as she noticed the signs of Evelyn being present in the house, the sound of a heartbeat she’d grown quite familiar with over the past few weeks. She was tired, and growing hungrier with each day, but she was also (and she hesitated to even think the word) content. She moved through the house, searching out the heartbeat and the familiar face that accompanied it.

There was something to be said for the comfort that familiarity provided. Evelyn wasn’t used to it being comfortable - at least not before moving. Back home, things had been familiar and predictable, but not in a way that they could have been. The only reason she liked being around Miriam was that the other woman provided the role of someone to talk to, and it kept Evelyn from ever getting bored. However, part of her knew that there was something more to all of this - because she knew that Miriam made her feel safe (after all, this was why she’d asked her to come and stay all those weeks ago, was it not?) and she knew that this was the sort of company she’d desperately craved for so much of her life. She didn’t try to focus too much on how easily they’d fallen into a routine and how at home Evelyn felt, even when she’d started staying at Miriam’s. How after finding out about Lydia, Miriam hadn’t shied away and had played with Evelyn’s hair until she’d fallen asleep. She heard the door open and readjusted her position on the couch, flipping closed one of the books she was in the middle of reading - placing it carefully next to her, head turned to the side as she heard Miriam’s footsteps make their way around the house. “Hello.” She couldn’t help but smile as she spotted Miriam. “Would you like to sit with me? I can move the books.” She grabbed the small stack and placed it onto the floor. “Or - can I get you anything?”

“Hi,” Miriam said, smiling as she walked into the living room and took in the way that Evelyn had made herself a nest. Even when this house belonged to her parents and she’d been a child, the living room had never looked so, well, lived in. It had been more of a showroom or the focal point of holiday and business parties, but it had never been anywhere that she’d just sat up shop in, as a child. It was warming to see books littering the floor and the couch and to not have to worry about someone yelling about tidying up. Miriam was the owner of the house, now, and if her guest wanted to make herself at home, then she could. Hell, if Miriam wanted to break every damn thing in the house, she could. She didn’t want to, but the option was there. There was a pang in her chest where she missed her parents, but there was a freedom as well. “I would love to sit with you.” Miriam moved over to the couch, sitting close to Evelyn but, as she always started out, not quite touching the other woman. “There’s really no need to get me anything, darling. I’m quite alright.” She looked at the stack of books curiously. She didn’t have much in the way of reading material in the house, as shameful as that was to admit. Her office had old grimoires and theories of witchcraft, but nothing that she actually enjoyed. “What are you reading?”

“Hi.” She repeated, before biting her lip - realizing how foolish she must have sounded, though she also knew that around Miriam, she felt more relaxed than in most other situations. Evelyn appreciated having a house all to herself, but she had discovered more recently that it was the feeling of freedom that she appreciated, and that she did not always have such a fondness for being all on her own. Which meant that when she and Alain had been together she’d liked when he stayed over - simply to have someone else there, and why she’d found herself feeling calmer and happier than she had in a while while Miriam had been staying with her. All in order to keep her safe - or just because it was convenient. Evelyn didn’t know exactly what to make of it all, but she did know that for whatever reason, she felt safer with Miriam around. “Wonderful.” She watched as Miriam seated herself, maintaining the slight distance between them - one that often disappeared after time but was often there to begin, both of them just ever-so-slightly too cautious, not wanting to over-step. “If you change your mind, I absolutely can, though.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh?” She held up a book. “Admittedly this is one I have read before. A favorite. We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Also, The Book Thief - which I have been told is a wonderful story, though sad. How was your day?” She glanced over, for one moment, watching Miriam’s hair falling around her shoulders and the way she sat so elegantly - even in an otherwise seemingly casual moment. “I hope you fared well.”

It wasn’t often that Miriam smiled genuinely, showing her teeth in a way that wasn’t cruel. She’d always tried to be careful, schooled in her expressions, a haughtiness that had been both bred and taught that showed on her face at almost all times. It didn’t help, either, that her features were naturally inclined to appear uppity; her smile was crooked, making her look like she was perpetually smirking, and she leaned into that, banked on it while conducting business deals and charming the masses. But being around Evelyn, Miriam didn’t have to be like that. She could be, for lack of a better word, softer. More genuine. She didn’t mind it as much as she might have, in her youth. “I know you can, darling. I assure you, though, I’m just fine.” She looked over the first book. “Shirley Jackson. That sounds… familiar. I’m afraid to admit that I rarely read for pleasure, these days. I spent most of my childhood reading to expand my vocabulary and impress my parents’ friends.” As well as belittle those in her age group. If money and charm couldn’t win them over, then she lashed out, a silver tongue sharp and relentless in the face of adversaries. “The title’s certainly interesting, though. What’s it about?” Perhaps she should read more fiction. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the time. And there was only so much she could scrounge up from old grimoires and journals that she didn’t already know about witchcraft theory. “My day was rather dull, actually. I went in early this morning to prep for a meeting and ended up on the phone with some dunce in Vancouver for five hours trying to work through a deal on zippers, of all things. I should have just stayed home, honestly. I hope yours was better?” she asked. She hoped Evelyn hadn’t been bored.

One of the loveliest and most brilliant parts about the town was that it had permitted her to meet people like Miriam. Evelyn had met people - humans - similar to Miriam back home in London, but none of them ever captured her attention in the same way that the other woman on the couch had. That was, outside of a desire to observe the way that humans behaved, to understand why she didn’t behave just like them. Though some of that had gone away after she’d found her mother’s journals but there was often a pang - because she was supposed to play human, and that wasn’t nearly as fun as the wording sounded. She could imagine she was an explorer, or a professional ballerina, but being reminded that she had to be human only served to make her shut herself away. At least in private - she did like to think of herself as a good actress, able to put on enough of a front to please her father. There was something to be said for how much she craved attention.

However around Miriam Evelyn knew that she could be wholly and entirely herself, anywhere from kind to bitter, and it seemed as though Miriam accepted that without question. After all, they had each shared a great deal about themselves upon their first meeting and it seemed to Evelyn that the two of them had only grown closer in the months following. “Should anything change, just inform me, alright?” Evelyn raised an eyebrow as Miriam moved the conversation along. “It is quite alright. I did read for pleasure as a child but I must admit I also read for some of those reasons. Reading classics in French or even Latin as a young child did wonders for my father’s reputation, apparently.” She ran her fingertips over the cover. “It is about two sisters, and complex family dynamics, as well as, I must admit, murder. Should you wish to borrow it, I would be pleased to loan it to you.” She made a face at Miriam’s next remark. “I am quite sorry, that sounds rather dreadful, people thinking they can waste your time like that. Yes, my day was lovely. I went for a bit of a walk, though I must admit, should it not be too forward, that I am rather glad to see you returned home.”

“Of course I will, darling.” Though, really, it was Miriam’s turn to play hostess, to get Evelyn whatever she wanted. The other woman hardly ate actual food anymore than Miriam herself, and her taste in wine was probably much better than Miriam’s, but this was still Miriam’s house, and, for better or worse, Miriam was still the woman she’d died as, the woman who was brought up to be a perfect hostess as well as a ruthless business owner. “Really? I preferred drawing or painting or, truth be told, working with my father’s employees in the leather shop. Though, I did get into romance novels a few years ago.” A few being about thirty, but who counted those things? “Oh, nothing makes a parent look better than well-behaved, intelligent children. Trust me, darling, I know all about that.” Her father drilled into her head that everything she did affected him and her mother, the older woman smiling and nodding along in the background like a marionette on her father’s strings. Oh, she’d loved both of them, but age and experience had shown her that their approach to parenting hadn’t been something she had wanted to repeat with her own children. Not that she’d ever had any or had any hope to have them, now.

“Two sisters and murder? Well, that sounds fascinating,” Miriam said, though, truthfully, her world had enough murder in it, usually with her as the cause of it. She didn’t mind murder, sometimes she even revelled in it, but such things were best kept separate from her personal life, no matter how interesting they might be. That’s why she read romance novels, cheesy as they were, and oftentimes ended up fascinated by reality television. She waved Evelyn’s next words aside with a laugh. “Nothing for you to be sorry for, dearest. I’m afraid I’m quite used to having my time wasted. Things certainly haven’t changed much over the years, in that respect.” People could still be so mind numbingly boring. But not this one, she thought, looking at Evelyn, who had not failed once to keep her interested and engaged in the months they’d talked. “I trust it was a good walk?” At first, Miriam had thought she was simply interested in Evelyn’s species, someone who fed on fear the way she fed on pain, but it was so much more than that. She was genuinely interested in Evelyn as a person, in every aspect. Evelyn was fascinating, and she was thoughtful, and she was, in all honesty, wonderful to look at. She moved in closer, seeing the line of conversation as an invitation as much as any “Welcome” had ever been. “I don’t think it’s forward at all, dearest. In fact, I’m also quite glad to be home.”

She couldn’t help but smile once again at the darling. There was something about the way that it flowed off of Miriam’s tongue that made her want to sit up straighter, lean more into any sort of conversation that she was having. Evelyn shrugged. “Yes, - I did paint on occasion, but I preferred to go and look at them in museums rather than take up the act myself. I did do ballet for a time - though that was something else that came from my mother and so I believe that my father did not approve of that as much as he might have, otherwise.” She tilted her head curiously, “perhaps you will have to tell me more about those sometime, as that is a genre I never properly dove into.” She couldn’t help but nod - a halfway sad expression crossing her features. Her posture straightened, and she could feel her father’s hands in her hair, brushing through it, helping her sit up straighter.

“It is more complicated than just that - but you might like it, and should you wish, I would be happy to have you read my copy. I have had mine since I was a teenager and it has been read quite a number of times. It may be odd to say, but it is an oddly comforting sort of book for me.” Evelyn couldn’t help but scrunch up her nose at Miriam’s next remark. “Still, it is no fun to have to deal with it. I do not deal with it in quite the same manner that you do, though believe me, I have plenty of stories from my own business, though none that I wish to tire you with right now.” She watched Miriam move closer to her, her lips curving into a gentle smile, her hands abandoning the book as one of them brushed some of Miriam’s hair behind her ear. “I can imagine so - your home is beautiful, and you do have impeccable taste in design if I do say so myself.” She raised an eyebrow. “As I am certain this is why you most wish to return home, after all. Perhaps in another life I would have gone into interior design. I have an eye for these things, and so I can see why you like your home so much.”

“I like looking at art in museums, too, though, truthfully, I’d like to have more pieces in my home,” Miriam said. Then, she smiled a bit teasingly. “I adore being surrounded by pretty things.” But Evelyn was much more than just pretty. There were far more reasons to want to be around her than just her being “pretty.” She frowned at Evelyn’s next remark, caring less and less for Evelyn’s father every time he was mentioned. “Well, parental approval be damned, I’m sure you were spectacular at it. You strike me as someone who would have made a good dancer. And romance novels, darling, I don’t read them for being a breakthrough literary genre. I like the terrible, mind-numbingly trashy ones. They’re fun and don’t require much thought.” She watched Evelyn’s face, the shift in her posture, and she almost wished she hadn’t brought anything about parents and expectation and any of it up. She wished she could help the other woman relax.

“If you like it, then I’m sure I’d love it.” Miriam trusted Evelyn’s taste. Sure, it certainly sounded like something she wouldn’t normally read, but if it was comforting of all things, then she’d give it the old college try. If nothing else, it allowed her a bit more insight into the woman whose company Miriam found herself enjoying more often than not. “I’d love to hear your stories sometime,” she said, leaning in a bit to Evelyn’s hand, only a bit warmer than her own but still nice, comforting, the feel of it something that she was becoming familiar with in ways that she tried not to think about. “Oh, I’m sure you’d have made a marvelous interior designer, and my home is quite nice, but that isn’t why I was looking forward to coming back.” Her own hand made its way to Evelyn’s hair, brushing a strand of it away and then running her hand along Evelyn’s jawline. “Recently, I’ve found myself in the company of someone altogether wonderful and interesting,” she said softly, “and I find myself, more often than not, looking forward to getting to back to see this person.” She licked her lips, a bit unsure but unwilling to show it. Flemmings were not unsure. “But I do think this is a testament to my impeccable taste, certainly.”

“I might know some sellers.” Evelyn bit her lip. “If not right here, elsewhere, so I can assist in acquiring art for you if you would like.” She would have asked Lydia, but that was no longer an option and for a moment she glanced down at her lap, not wanting to ruin whatever sort of moment this was with more depressing thoughts. Miriam knew what had happened, she’d heard Evelyn’s gasp - closest thing to a scream that she ever really used, when she’d first heard. It seemed useless to keep something as significant as this a secret from someone who you were essentially living with, after all. Her cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at Miriam’s next remark, followed by a shrug. “I do have to agree. I think being surrounded by beautiful things makes everything more worthwhile.” She gave another shrug. “I was. Perhaps in another world I would have done more with that. I have noticed that I at least retained the shifting of posture that came along with dance. Though perhaps that also means that I am not always so able to just let loose. Not that I see any issue with that, but some may. It may make others think I am a bit of a snob, though I suppose none of them are entirely wrong, at least not to some degree.”

“Perhaps you can show me one of them, sometime? I may be a bit of a snob, but I do find myself ever so curious about what others who I may find myself fond of enjoy, and so I would like to understand more.” Evelyn sighed. “I trust your taste as well, which is why I believe that I find myself suddenly keen to the idea of these stories, because sometimes things that are mind-numbingly trashy can be worthwhile, and I think I ought to give those more credit than I have in the past. After all, is that not what freedom is all about? Making one’s own choices.” She let Miriam lean against her hand and she found herself wishing to brush along Miriam’s jawline - almost exactly as Miriam did the very same to her. “I suppose that I could have - again, in another lifetime. One never truly knows, though I do think you certainly have an eye for things yourself.” She let the woman’s other words hang between them for a moment. “I - well, I am pleased to hear that, I must admit, though I would not ever fault you even if the only reason for your appreciation and desire to return your home, but I think that the person appreciates your company and finds that to be one of the nicer parts of her day.” She shifted closer again. “I would have to agree.” She pressed her lips against Miriam’s, feather-light, more of a ghost of a kiss than anything else. “Your taste is truly brilliant, you know?”

“Would you?” Miriam asked, perking up a bit at the thought, not just of having some knew pieces but also of the possibility of the two of them looking for something together. It was an oddly comforting thing to think about, something that she hadn’t felt in… a very long time. Far longer than she cared to think about. She grinned, though, shaking off thoughts that were too comforting for their own good. Such good things, good thoughts, weren’t meant to stay. They’d only hurt, in the end. “I’m glad we agree on that. I think it’s an imperative to have, an appreciation of beautiful things.” She teased, “Oh, of course. Your impeccable posture is, without a doubt, the first thing I noticed about you.” Miriam moved her hand down Evelyn’s neck to her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that at all. But, perhaps, if you’d like, we could go dancing, sometime, to show people that you do know how to let loose when the time’s right. Which, it won’t be similar to ballet, but it might still be fun.” She couldn’t remember a time where she went out dancing without the intentions to hunt.

Miriam laughed. “I’m certain I could if you’d like.” She enjoyed being someone that Evelyn was fond of, liked the warmth that it made her feel. It was nice. “My taste in literature is nothing so profound, darling, I assure you. My taste in art is much better, or design, or people.” She licked her lips wanting more than just brief touch of a kiss that Evelyn had given her. It felt like a promise, though, and one that Miriam had no intention of breaking. “So you know this person, then? She’s absolutely fantastic, and it’s wonderful to hear that she appreciates my company. I think she’d find that I feel the same, and that I’m quite happy to have been able to enjoy her being around for so long..” She moved in, stealing a kiss where Evelyn had barely left one. Eyes bright and voice low, she asked, “Is it really? Perhaps I could show you just how brilliant it is? Either here or in my room or wherever you like, actually.”

“Of course.” Her answer was simple, but everything with Miriam was. In the best way, not in a way that Evelyn would find herself growing bored of. It was more of a sense of relief than anything else, to not have to think too much or measure her words. Miriam knew so much about her, and she’d never found any of it repulsive. Though they were different - and as much as Evelyn did at times wonder what it would be like were Miriam a mara, too - she felt a certain connection to her - one that, if she were to think too long about it, would remind her of how she’d first felt around Melanie. “Yes, I agree. Far too many do not appreciate or understand beauty, and so I am, as ever, incredibly grateful that you do.” She felt a small, though welcome shiver run through her body as Miriam’s hand moved to her shoulder, the cooler touch of the other woman’s fingers something that she found to be a comforting sort of familiarity. “If you would like, I would like that. Only with you. Though I did go to some clubs as a teenager back in London. If you would believe that. Though I will admit that the likelihood that I will know much of the music is low, as I am not an expert in that sort of thing.”

She grinned back to Miriam. “I would like that.” Evelyn nodded. “I understand this, but it is a part of you, and I find that I enjoy understanding others, especially those that I find myself fond of.” She raised an eyebrow. “I am aware of this - and I do think your taste in people happens to be quite stellar.” She watched Miriam’s lips after the first kiss, fighting away a smirk. “Yes, she would be happy to -” her reply was broken by Miriam’s lips, pressed firmly against her own. “It is, and I would like that. You give me so many choices, however will I decide?” She grinned, the smile making its way to her eyes. She kissed her back, letting it linger for a moment. “If I decide one now, might I get the honor of another some other time?”

“Of course,” Miriam repeated, a bit in awe with how easy this was, to have someone that wanted to do something for her, no questions asked and no strings attached. She’d never had something like this, never. There was always the question of what she could do for someone else, or the judgement of what her actions were. Evelyn didn’t judge her, even when she knew that Miriam did horrible, horrible things sometimes. A bit impulsively, Miriam leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Evelyn’s lips with a smile. “Right? I think we’re both quite lucky, to find someone who enjoys the finer things in life.” Miriam, at the very least, was lucky to find someone like Evelyn, though she wouldn’t say the words. The last time she had felt lucky with another person was far too long ago, and the bitter aftertaste of it was not worth dwelling on in the moment. Instead, she found Evelyn’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I think it would be quite fun. I haven’t been out dancing in years. I can see you going out clubbing, though. You’re not nearly as much of a stick in the mud as you think, darling. And, rest assured, I have no doubt you have a better chance of knowing the music than I do.” Aside from the trash that occasionally came on the strange little machine now taking up residence in Miriam’s workshop, she knew next to nothing about modern music.

“In that case, I’ll see if I can find something silly you’d like.” Miriam wasn’t self-conscious about Evelyn finding out she read trashy romance novels; after all, she’d told the younger woman she did. Perhaps it was the fact that Evelyn wanted to know her, to understand her. Miriam wasn’t afraid (she didn’t fear things), but there was a part of her that was… worried that Evelyn would find something that would be the limit. She already knew so much about Miriam. When would the moment come that she decided she’d learned too much? Miriam let her eyelids fall half shut; getting lost in the kisses was far better than getting lost inside her head. “However will you decide,” she purred, her voice low and muffled as she moved her lips to Evelyn’s jaw. “You can have whatever you like, whenever you like, darling. Far be it from me to take such a lofty decision from you.”

#wickedswriting #c miriam #chatzy #all i've ever known #// this is not soft at all #these two do not care for one another #not one bit #also i love virginia with my whole heart

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