#i had given it thought but you see i well. i have my focus elsewhere [looks around] hehe

[st4rstudent]

i think no on earth would ever say this but...

rocky x count erclaim?

i'm sure you're not the first! have some amoebas

[acquired-stardust]

Acquired-Stardust's First Anniversary!

It's the one year anniversary of Acquired-Stardust! A huge thank you to everyone who's supported us so far. Read on for some more detailed thoughts from both Ash and Larsa looking back on our first year.

Wow, so it's been a year already huh? And what a roller coaster of a year it's been, with so many more highs than lows. Larsa and I originally started Acquired-Stardust to help motivate us to experience some of the overwhelming amount of media on our backlog and to hopefully help share some enjoyment of things new to us that was deserving of it alongside stuff we already knew and loved. Two specific goals were to avoid dwelling on negativity with a focus instead on what's worth our and your time, and to avoid trying to quantify fun or quality with traditional scored reviews of things. In that pursuit I utilized some of my enjoyment of virtual photography (which started in part due to being a Tumblr user as far back as 2011), finally getting around to writing more in a public capacity and we even learned how to make gifs specifically for this blog. All that in and of itself has been really rewarding to do, but the reception that you all have given our posts has been overwhelming and far exceeded our wildest dreams.

Low points come with a silver lining. Dealing with our content (so far almost entirely visual works) being reposted without any credit or permission by large Twitter accounts has been frustrating, and necessitated the creation of a Twitter account of our own (which you can find here) to try and hopefully get out in front of stuff like that and bring more stuff that people might want to see to more eyes. The account has struggled mightily with visibility, but it's been a great reinforcement of our original choice of platform in Tumblr. Tumblr's community has an integrity and emotional depth not seen elsewhere, and the platform itself allows people to connect with the sorts of things they want to see much more organically without the heavy-handed forcing of algorithms incentivizing people ripping each other off. Tumblr users are the kind of people I want to make things for, and Tumblr is the platform I want to make things for. Sharing our journey through media worth experiencing with you has been and will continue to be an honor and a pleasure.

We have plenty more ideas for stuff to post. For one we'd like to cover anime much more frequently, though it's a crowded space with lots of very talented and dedicated people covering it. We'd also like to write more often about games and anime both, and have plenty of subjects in mind including various things of a wider focus than just singular pieces of media. We'd like to create a pinned post that has a directory of sorts with links to an about section alongside things like filters for popular posts and writing. We've also been thinking of occasionally reblogging some of our older posts to bring them to newer followers who might've missed them the first time around. Hopefully you all will continue to enjoy the stuff we make even half as much as we've enjoyed bringing it to you all.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for making this first year so special for us, and here's to many more. Treat yourselves to something nice today in our honor so you can share in our joy as well.

-- Ash I cannot believe that it has already been a year since Ash and I decided to start this blog together as a team. I suppose the saying must be true that time files when you are having fun because my time spent on this blog has a been a great experience. We started this blog expecting that our posts may never be seen by anybody and that was okay as long as the cool things we were passionate about had a chance to be seen by anybody at all even just one extra time. However, quickly our posts started to get some eyes on it and our fellow Tumblr users actually enjoyed the stuff we posted so far. My gaming background has been many RPGs, fighting games, strategy games, third person shooters, and then that extended further to other hobbies like trading card games such as "Yu-Gi-Oh!". Oh and I shouldn't forget to mention an unhealthy amount of monster taming games. It's cool to see on this community that so many of you love these things too. Likewise we have enjoyed when you all would share your feelings with us in replies or reblogs about the subject matter. Seeing what the subjects of our posts mean to you means the world to us. Personally I had never been involved on Tumblr much until this blog maybe due to my severe shyness. The platform to me always felt like something that passed me by back in the day like a ship in the night and perhaps people weren't active on it anymore. I was completely wrong in that assumption the community here is not only active everybody is almost unanimously incredibly thoughtful and nice. Sometimes the world can feel like a pretty awful place especially when you are disabled while living an alternate lifestyle. I think we all deserve some light to brighten things up in life. Thank you all for the support over the past year, it means a lot to us and we will keep working hard to keep bringing more to the blog. My goal is to keep spreading positivity and writing about more subjects to share with you. Please look forward to the future and let's all be kind. -- Larsa

[herpartnerintime]

Max's IEP - Inattentive ADHD and Social anxiety

I wanted to talk about Max's IEP, the possibility of inattentive ADHD and Max's social anxiety. In the files in Principal Wells office we discover Max's student file and discover she has an IEP (Individualized Education Program) given to students who may need extra help and support in school.

We learn here that Max is considered a quiet attentive student. We learn her GPA fluctuates and she has acknowledged she should be doing better. Her teachers back up her quiet intelligence but she gets some complaints about being to nervous or nosey. Some would like her to speak up in class and be more assertive, others want her to be less so. I've been thinking a lot about this and what Max may have struggled with to get her an IEP. I've seen many fans discuss this and had many discussions myself. Some fans may think she has a learning disability that has her needing extra help. Some have thought autism. Some have considered ADHD - the inattentive type. I've been thinking a lot about this myself after beginning to realize I may have the inattentive type of ADHD, though I am not yet officially diagnosed, learning about this has also made me notice some similarities in Max's behavior.

Inattentive ADHD is very common in girls but underdiagnosed. I started noticing Max has signs of it. Her student file describes her as attentive, but people with inattentive adhd can seem attentive even if there mind is elsewhere. Inattentive ADHD is 'a subtype of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder that often manifests as limited attention span, distractibility, forgetfulness, or procrastination.' "Sidetracked by external or unimportant stimuli: No matter how much you want to tune into a task, it’s common to get sidetracked by a thought, topic, or event that suddenly demands your internal attention. For instance, you might be attending a show by your favorite comedian and find yourself zoning out for 5 minutes to think about what pandas eat."

"Inattentive adults are dreamers, doodling on their notes during a big meeting or studying a fly on the wall while their spouses are asking about bills. Often nicknamed “space cadets” or written off as flaky, many people misinterpret their lack of focus as lack of interest — and can get frustrated by their inability to pay attention, especially when it’s important that they do so."

We see this happening the very first episode. Though granted, Max is in a bit of shock from her storm dream. But as Jefferson talks Max can get distracted looking at her bag, at her journal, her pencil case, she can look at everything on her desk and lose herself in thought. She even ends up taking a selfie as Jefferson is talking!

"I haven't kept up with my journal as much as I should." "Look at this crap! How can I show this to Mr. Jefferson? I can hear the class laughing at me now." "I can't believe I still have this pencil case. I should upgrade to the 21st century. But I like it old school." "My little camera bag is battered, but still kicking."  "I do love my analog camera. I should take a quick picture now." After selfie she can look at camera as Jefferson is talking: "Sorry, Max. No more selfies right now." In Jefferson's class in episode 1 we can see Max also has a bunch of doodles along with her notes, suggesting she can lose focus.

In Jefferson's class, we see in episode 2 Max has paper out on her desk, which you can choose to doodle on, becoming unfocused on what he is saying.

When Chloe texts Max, Max takes out her phone to look, getting called out by Jefferson to put her phone away.

Given everything going on in Max's life from her storm dream to her super powers it makes sense Max would be extra distracted in class, but Jefferson makes comments that also suggest this is a pattern with Max.

Jefferson says to Max in the Dark Room Stupid bitch! You just don't listen, do you? (threateningly) In fact, you never did hear much in my class; if you had, you might have seen all this coming.

When Max returns to the dark room in episode 5 after having escaped and she doesn't hear Jefferson, he says

Jefferson: Jesus. It's like you're back in my class. You're still...spacing...out. It might be cool if you took one of your patented selfies now... This suggests Max's struggle to focus in class wasn't just because of everything happening with her powers and Chloe.

When Jefferson asks her his question in class her responses are Max: I did know! ...But I kinda forgot.

Max: You're asking me? Let me think... Um... This fits how those with inattentive ADHD can be very forgetful. Homework is kicking my ass. I bet the teachers grade harder just to stop you from feeling special. I have an assload of homework already. So much bullshit. At least give us noobs a day to acclimate. Like a dork I couldn't figure out what to wear, so I chose what was on the floor. I'm no good with names and faces right away, but I picked up some names like KateBrookeTaylorAlyssa... Max seems pretty overwhelmed by her school life too. She can also be disorganized, writing about choosing an outfit off the floor, likely because she got distracted and didn't put her clothes away. She has trouble remembering the names of her classmates. I relate to all of this!

Even Max's classmates have noticed... Juliet: Uh, why do you care? Why are you even asking me? You never talk, just zone out with your camera.

Max: That's why I'm talking to you now.

Juliet: What's my last name?

Max: Juliet...Juliet...Olson. (you have 4 options)

Juliet: That was truly sad. Thanks for your concern, "Max Caulfield". By the way, Juliet Watson.

We see that Max is known to be spacey, forgetful, distracted easily in class and often finds her mind drifting to other things, or getting distracted by her journal or other items around her. Max even displayed doodling behavior in childhood too. When she and Chloe were kids, this was left on Chloe's homework Great job as always Chloe. Now PLEASE try to pay attention in class instead of drawing pictures with Maxine. Max's thoughts: Chloe and I were doing a lot of drawing in Ms. Shelley's class.

We know from Max doodling in class she does this even without Chloe around as a distraction. When Max looks at Chloe's report card, Max thinks, "As usual, Chloe's grades are better than mine. I still kick her butt in PE, though." I wonder if perhaps for Max, who was the inattentive adhd type and could get restless, if PE was good for her focus since it involved getting up and moving around. Max having inattentive ADHD might explain why she struggled in school and wasn't able to go to a school like Blackwell Academy like Chloe for grade nine but was able to for grade twelve by getting the extra help needed in Seattle to be able to make the grades for Blackwell.

Max even procrastinates for her favourite subject!

The winner gets a trip to San Francisco and lots of publicity. He wants just one photograph from each student. This is exactly why I wanted to come to Blackwell and of course I'm scared shitless to enter. At least I have a couple weeks before the deadline in October. So I have plenty of time to stress and procrastinate. Sigh.

Max having inattentive ADHD along with social anxiety could even help understand further why she was ignoring Chloe. Max was in shock over William's death and she didn't know how to be there for her friend, with the inattentive ADHD also playing a role perhaps in Max forgetting to say, respond to Chloe's texts in Before the Storm or just remembering to text which created this cycle of guilt where she kept putting it off and forgetting as she let herself get distracted by other things and then would remember and be eaten alive by guilt and put it off. I know myself I can forget about texts sent to me so easily as my mind finds other things to focus on. It's especially easy to forget the world when you hyper focus on other things, and people with inattentive adhd can have intense hyper focus on things that interest them. "Hyperfocus, a common — but confusing — ADHD symptom, is the ability hyper fixate on an interesting project or activity for hours at a time. It is the opposite of distractibility, and it is common among both children and adults with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder." "But whatever holds the attention, the result is the same: Unless something or someone interrupts, hours drift by as important tasks, and relationships fall by the wayside." It is also interesting that Max's phone has no texts from her Seattle friends, and she only writes about them once, as her mind becomes consumed by Blackwell life. Once she reconnects with Chloe, she no longer struggles with communication and is even very fast answering her texts. She can take time to answer others though! Max seems to display a lot of behaviors of inattentive adhd but ultimately with the game only taking place October 7-11 and Farewell in a day it is hard to really know for sure. But she does display all of the signs in different ways throughout the game and other characters remarks suggest it is a pattern for her. Social Anxiety? Hannah Telle, who I highly enjoy hearing her thoughts on Max on, has shared some thought on Max's social anxiety and IEP.

Hannah Telle: I think that Max was in shock over William's death and the fact that she was leaving her life in Arcadia Bay to start all over at such a difficult age. I also think she was afraid to reach out because she wouldn't know the right thing to say and thought Chloe would be mad at her for leaving and not want to talk to her. I think both girls eventually assumed the other didn't want to talk to them and then they fell apart. Also, I'm sure Max was overwhelmed with being all alone in a big city when she suffers from social anxiety. Maybe she just withdrew even further and wasn't really talking to anyone. I can definitely relate to that.

Hannah Telle talking about Max: Her timidness, her introvertedness, her desire to NOT be so introverted and not be so timid but she doesn't even really know at the beginning of the game that she needs or wants that, she can't even imagine what life would be like on the other side of her own withdrawn boundaries and just sometimes I feel like Max might feel like she's got a glass wall between her and everyone else around her and like when she's with Chloe maybe she doesn't feel that wall, that glass wall so strongly and I really relate to that it's like some kind of psychological thing that I experience feeling like I'm separated from the other person I'm talking with unless it's like a very certain person

On Max's IEP

Hannah Telle: I was never made aware of any inside information about Max's Individualized Education Program but I do have some thoughts. I do think that Max is highly intelligent and overly self-aware. I find her extremely introverted nature at the start of the game to be a bit concerning. I think maybe Max struggles with some kind of issue where she is incapable of believing in herself or using her voice. I definitely can relate to that. I think her sudden onset of power interferes with this problem and ultimately solves it for her without the need for therapy or medication because it forces her to come out of her shell and speak up. When Chloe asks Max what she likes to do now that she's all grown Max, Max can say "Not much. You know me. I like to observe the world more than participate." After rewinding, Max can share this.

Max: I take photos. Of me, the world, everything. It may sound sad, but I have a blast. Chloe: It doesn't sound that sad. Max: I'm happiest when I've got a great image in my lens. I'm not lonely, not afraid... When Max is not taking photos she feels lonely and afraid. She has been without her best friend for five years and seems to have only made two friends (Fernando and Kristen and going from texts she hasn't kept in touch) Max even can say to Chloe of Seattle, "It was cool, but...I felt kinda lonely, out of my league." Max struggled in Seattle.

Max also tries to explain to Chloe why she didn't keep in touch.

Max: I wanted to. I was just so tripped out over leaving Arcadia... Chloe: Oh, please. I'm sure your phone and laptop were frozen in time. Max: You're merciless.

Max: Give me a break. I was going through changes...like you. Chloe: I guess those changes included dumping me from your life. Max: That's not true, Chloe. Chloe: Bullshit. You thought you'd hook up with all these art pricks in Seattle. Didn't happen, though. Max: You're merciless.

Max: I'm sorry. I know things were tough on you when I left. Chloe: How do you know? You weren't even here. Max: I didn't order my parents to move specifically to fuck you over, Chloe. Chloe: You've been at Blackwell for almost a month without letting me know. 'Nuff said.

Max: I just wanted to settle in first and not be such a shy cliché geek. I totally would have contacted you...

I think Max isn't good at handling confrontation. She doesn't know how to explain to Chloe why she wasn't there, not sure how to put to words why she couldn't reach out. She also struggles with the social anxiety of Chloe seeing she hasn't changed much (Shy cliche geek) and is also using that embarrassed feeling to avoid her. She also doesn't know how to explain why she didn't reach out after a month. Max's social anxiety and fears about Chloe being mad at her were making her put it off. She thinks this looking at a photo of them. "...Max and Chloe: Best Friends Forever. Who even says that anymore? I'm going to have to call Chloe eventually and find out what she'll say. The longer I wait, the worse it'll be. Idiot." Her inattentive ADHD likely didn't help, finding it all to easy to lose herself in distractions.

Max apologizes to Chloe, but she never gives her an explanation in the game because Max didn't know how to explain herself. Then there’s Chloe Price. What do you say to your best friend after five years of silence? After finding out you saved her life in a bathroom? NOTHING. I feel so lame for not staying in touch… or even text. I have no idea how to process seeing Chloe like this again. For one thing, she looks so similar but so different… She’s all grown up now, but it doesn’t seem like she’s only one year older than me. Max also admits I feel bad because I wonder if I was happy to move away just to avoid the grief…

In Farewell, Max even worries about how often she should write. "It might be actually really fun to write Chloe letters after I move. Is writing once a week to often? Will I run out of things to say?" She sounds very worried at that last part. Hearing Max think that might feel strange, with how close Chloe and her are and how easy it is for them to talk now, but Max's social anxiety was making her over think and worry about how much she should write or fear she wouldn't know what to say. Many with social anxiety struggle with communication long distance when they can't see the person. Max also shares this fear to Chloe. Max: I'm so worried that I won't be okay without you.

Chloe: Hey, stop that. Of course you'll be okay.

Chloe: We're Max and Chloe, remember? We're always together, even when we're not.

Max: That's true.

Chloe: Cool. Let's find something fun to do.

Given she ends up lonely in Seattle and also tells Chloe something that suggests when she's not taking photos she is lonely and afraid, I don't think she was okay without Chloe, just like she feared. She was missing her best friend but unable to fight her social anxiety to reach back out, even after she returned. She didn't make many friends because of her social anxiety, and her inattentive adhd kept her to distracted to face anything. Max also shows her social anxiety in how long she waits to tell Chloe about moving. By the time she finally works up the courage to tell her after being a ball of anxiety, she's moving in 3 days. Max: Chloe?

Chloe: Max?

Max: I want to tell you...something.

Chloe sits on the couch next to her.

Chloe: Okay.

Max: I'm, um... My family's moving to Seattle really soon. Hey.

Chloe: In three days, right?

Max: What? You knew that?

Chloe: Our parents do talk, you know?

Max: But, they said I should be the one to tell you—

Chloe: They still told my parents. I guess Mom and Dad were trying to keep quiet, too, but they're bad at hiding anything. Don't look so worried Max, it's okay. (lightly shoves Max's shoulder) Come on, dorkmeister. It's not the end of the world.

Max: I should've just told you earlier. God, I feel so stupid. (She covers her face with her hands in anxiety)

Chloe: Max, I said it was okay.

Max: I was trying to tell you this morning, but—

Chloe: But I totally distracted you with the pirate tape! Success!

Max: Seriously?

Chloe: I didn't want this hanging over us all day.

Chloe: Plus I know you hate this kind of conversation, so...I just left it alone, you know?

Chloe takes Max's hand and pulls her off the couch and holds her hand.

Chloe: Come on, I want to spend every minute we have together having fun.

Max hasn't just been having these thoughts only this day, she's been anxious about telling Chloe for along time.

Max: (thinking) I've spent so much of my life here, every little corner is familiar. Comforting.

Max starts bouncing the ball against the drawing board.

Max: (thinking) These games we're playing...buried pirate treasure from our past selves.

Max: (thinking) Is this why I keep pushing off telling Chloe I'm leaving? Because I don't want to ruin this time together?

Max: (thinking) Is this all selfish of me? Why is this making me feel more guilty about leaving? (doesn't try to tell chloe) Max: (thinking) I guess now's my chance to tell Chloe I'm leaving. We might not be alone again once her parents get back.

Chloe: Hey, ready for something else? I've got a great plan for the rest of the afternoon.

Max: (thinking) Crap. I don't want to ruin the rest of the day.

Chloe: You're staying for dinner, right?

Max: (thinking) Would Chloe even want me to tell her?

"It's so hard to believe. This room, this house, this town... all in the past now. Or soon to be. Who even am I without Chloe? She's the one who's always starting things, pulling us into adventures. I can't imagine life without her. Maybe I haven't told her I'm leaving yet because I still can't believe it's real myself." "Chloe Price. My best friend. It's so weird being back in this attic after so long. I remember being terrified of this place. I think when you're a kid, you're only afraid of things that can hurt you. But when you get older, you become more afraid of hurting the people you care about. And spiders. Man, I'm gonna miss her."

[minijenn]

Never Been Better (Commission)

Got the first (and so far only) writing commission of this bunch done, for @zexoguy, who wanted some cute MK2 fluff, featuring Ava realizing she's crushing on Lisa. So enjoy!

---

The day Ava realized she was in love with Lisa started just like any other. 

They were spending the afternoon in Little Homeworld, a frequent haunt for the Pines and Universe kids. They were just as well known among the small city’s Gem residents as their parents were, and every bit as welcome. From the moment they arrived, Rebecca was already running about, cheerfully greeting every Gem who happened to pass by. 

“Hi, Nephy! Hi, Lar-mar! Hi, Paddy Pads!” she called out, running over to hug each of them in turn. “Oh my gosh, look, Ty!” she grabbed Tyrone’s arm, excited. “I think I see Auntie Bis over there! Let’s see if she’ll finally build me that rocketship I keep asking her for!” 

Before Tyrone could protest, Rebecca was already pulling him away. Flustered, Comet hurried after them. 

“Becca, wait!” he shouted, worried. “Rockets are really dangerous! A-and besides, Aunt Bismuth doesn’t even build rockets, she builds weapons!”

Abigail snorted out a small laugh as she watched them go. “Talk about easily distracted, am I right?” she smirked at Lisa and Ava. Almost immediately, however, her attention was pulled away to a gathering crowd up ahead. “No way. Are the Citrines about to have an epic dance battle? Now this I gotta see!” 

And just like that, she was off, suddenly leaving Ava and Lisa alone. Neither of them minded much though; they were used to spending time together without any of their siblings. But lately, for whatever reason, their solo outings started to feel… different. 

Or at least, they did to Ava. 

“So, uh…” she cleared her throat, glancing away when Lisa looked in her direction. “Looks like it’s just us. What do you want to do now?”

“Hm…” Lisa thought for a moment. “Well, we could always-”

A sudden clatter cut her off as it rose through the air. The girls turned to spot the danger just as a Gem cried out the warning: “Bramblebeast stampede!”

Bramblebeasts were a relatively new discovery among Gravity Falls’ anomalies. Their antelope-like bodies were made up entirely of living brambles, allowing them to easily blend into the forests they called home. Recently, however, the Gems of Little Homeworld had taken a liking to the largely peaceful creatures, with a few even trying their hand at domesticating them. A feat which, given how frequently they broke out of their enclosure, was easier said than done. 

A sizable thicket of Bramblebeasts charged straight through Little Homeworld’s main road, nearly barreling into countless Gems in the process. While most were easily able to slip out of the stampede’s path in time, Ava’s focus was elsewhere as she desperately glanced around for her sister and her cousin. She could only hope Abigail and Tyrone were safe, Comet and Rebecca too, but she couldn’t say the same for herself as she realized far too late she wouldn’t be able to make a clean getaway. The Bramblebeasts were only a few feet ahead of her, racing straight for her in a blind, uncontrollable rage. All she could do now was brace herself for the inevitable, until–

A hand latched around her arm and pulled her out of the way, just in time. 

Ava only got a glimpse of Lisa after she shoved her to safety. The Bramblebeasts charged past her, and to her surprise, Lisa followed them, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She managed to catch up with the last of the pack, climbing onto its thorny body until she was able to stand atop its back. Her years of training with Connie and Pearl served her well as she kept her balance, leaping from one Bramblebeast to the next. 

Ava stood alongside several Gems as they all watched her daring maneuver, absolutely awestruck. It didn’t take Lisa long to reach the Bramblebeast at the front of the pack, the creature the rest of the thicket was clearly following. She took a tight hold on the twisted vines that served as its horns, letting out a fierce shout as she pulled back on them with all her might. The Bramblebeast reared back, roaring, but Lisa held fast until the creature had no choice but to skid to a sharp stop. The other Bramblebeasts soon did the same, finally putting a stop to the chaotic stampede as several Gems rushed in to properly restrain them. 

Lisa breathed out a sigh of relief as she dismounted the creature. While plenty of Gems offered her praise and gratitude for her quick thinking, she didn’t focus on any of them for too long. Instead, she hurried back over to Ava, who was still standing on the sidelines, still utterly stunned by what she’d just seen. 

“Ava!” she called, concerned. 

“Lisa…” Ava finally remembered how to speak again. “That was… amazing! I can’t believe you just did that!” 

“Heh, yeah,” Lisa chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “I dunno what came over me. I just… leapt right into the thick of it, just like Mom and Pearl always taught me to. I’m just glad nobody got hurt.”

“Uh, are you sure about that?” Ava asked, frowning. “Your hands are bleeding pretty badly there…”

“Oh,” Lisa frowned down at the multiple cuts stinging her palms. “The Bramblebeasts were pretty thorny. B-but don’t worry! Dad can always heal them up for me later.” She wiped some of the spare blood off on her dress. “I’m fine; how about you?”

The world seemed to grind to a stop when Lisa held her hand out. Ava could only stare at it, at her, utterly captivated by the girl she’d grown up alongside. Her long hair was a mess, her face smeared with dirt, her dress ripped and frayed, and her eyes bright with fading adrenaline. Ava had scarcely ever seen this side of her before, so fierce, so formidable, so brave… 

So beautiful. 

“Y-yeah…” she answered weakly. Though she was still standing, when she took Lisa’s hand, she felt herself falling in another way entirely all the same. “I’ve never been better.”

[justasadbitch27]

Untitled because ✨creativity✨

(I did a thing. I’m sorry it’s terrible but the James Wilson fandom is LACKING. And he’s so pretty.)

No one knows yet how I feel about James Wilson or even how he feels about me. It’s been our little secret and we have become comfortable with that, maybe now so comfortable that people are beginning to catch on, namely so, House is beginning to figure it out. House and I have a history, it’s a small history but it was intense and I’m not looking forward to his reaction. 

The diagnostic team has just been given orders and have been sent out to run those errands on our patient, I’m merely a consultant for the team today as our little unwell angel is 6 years old. House enjoys it when I consult so sometimes I’m not really even needed. We assume some form of cancer is possible so Wilson is here to help too. Wilson is standing very close, almost touching me as he leans on the back of the chair I was sitting in. Looming behind me protectively. As we are debating House can see us getting closer, my shoulders gently gracing Wilson’s chest as I talk passionately about this patient, the real hint is when I turn to look at Wilson and he looks down into my eyes, the moment of pause, the dilation of the pupils and the tension. House did not miss this interaction and began to feel quite the heat form in his chest. 

“Well Le Doo if you think you have all the answers then you can go to the lab and work on your theory. Leave poor Wilson here to get on with his job” House says through a deepened glare and snare. 

Wilson sees this and immediately backs off, he would defend you if he thought you were ready to reveal the truth but that talk hadn’t been had and he knew better than to stand in either of your way, so instead he simply responded “I guess I must, if you need anything page me. Especially if he starts rambling or doing something stupid”

I laughed, “thank you Wilson, I’ll make sure he behaves” I wink as Wilson blushes and walks away. 

“As I behave?” House sneers, “maybe you should spend less time looking at Wilson and more time doing your job. Get to the lab and get me those results!” House states again and stands from his semi seated position on a table. 

I simply walk forward, a little amused by his jealousy. As I stand in front of him I place my finger and my thumb on his chin and gently squeeze as I mock him. “Ow no, is the good doctor a little jealous?” Maintaining eye contact with him as his eyes darken. I release my grip and head to the lab, I know he’s looking at my ass. 

———- 

In the lab I find Chase and Cameron attempting to finish other tests. We converse over possibles and eventually Cameron tries to address the elephant in the room. 

“So when are you and Wilson going to come out and admit your feelings for each other?” She says looking at me with her self righteous facial expression. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Cameron, my relationship with Wilson is professional” I avoid her eyes, maintaining my focus on the slides in front of me. 

“Haha, yeah well tell House that. I thought Wilson was in real trouble!” Chase sniggers from the corner. The indication of House jealousy over me upsets Cameron and causes her to find results elsewhere. 

“Well that was clever, now you’ve made your dream girl jealous” I say to Chase as he flusters and tried to defend himself. Not too long after House and Cameron are back to share results and findings. Cameron sits on a hair in front of the microscope, I had the not so brilliant idea or leaning over the chair, and bending right in front of the boys. 

———- 

“Well get on and do it then! What are you still standing here for?!’ House shouts to his lackies as Wilson arrives. 

“Do you always have to yell at them?” Wilson says, “House did you hear?” Wilson says again as he realises that House is too busy obviously staring at my ass while I bend over looking at slides. “House!?” Wilson exclaims loudly to get his attention, getting frustrated with this ridiculous game. 

“Yes, Wilson” House says as he turns with a grin, thinking he’s winning and making Wilson jealous. Wilson was, but he isn’t the type of man to react to childish behaviour. Not yet anyway. 

“The blood work is back, cells indicate and early form of bone cancer. Any indication on the slides?” Wilson says hoping to guide the conversation into a more appropriate direction. 

House doesn’t agree, and wants to wind the plate up more. House wants to know if there is a reason to be jealous over Wilson and i or not. “Well Wilson, it would appear that we’re still looking intently into the slides. I’m clearly working very hard, but maybe we should be looking at the legs? I’m very interested in the legs” as House says this, I start to feel something running up my inner calf at quite the pace… 

As I realise, so does Wilson. House is running his cane up the inside of my legs whilst imagining what he wants. As I stand to turn and defend myself from Houses action, Wilson steps forward and smacks the cane to the floor. “That’s enough House” Wilson shouts whilst placing his hands on his hips in front of me. I am now stood facing House. 

“James” I says softly whilst placing a hand on his shoulder, causing him to relax. 

“I knew it!” House triumphantly shares, “I can’t believe you thought you could hide from me that you’re doing her, well done. What a prize you’ve won ‘James’” he says almost mocking us. House begins to stand and rearranges his cane to leave in his typical strop. Wilson visibly irritated by Houses callousness he shouts after House while he exists the Lab. 

“House! This conversation isn’t over!” House ignores Wilson. 

[z-haven]

Memory In The Letter ep 1

(just thoughts and some quick readings done)

Memory in the letter references The Siam Renaissance which is a 2004 fantasy film that's an adaptation of the 1986 thai novel Thawiphop by Thommayanti. Thawiphop is about a young woman who went back in time through a magic mirror.

Sounds kinda familiar doesn't it? Aksorn doesn't go back in time but through the mirror he can see that Songjam is from a different time period.

One of the important things about this novel is that it's used as an example of Thai nationalist thought. Basically absolute monarchy is dismantled and nationalism is promoted. Films during 2020 were also used to promote Thai patriotism and this was through a series of war films endorsed by the Prime Minister during that time. But really the series isn't about war films but someone like Aksorn who loves literature would also appreciate the use of films for imagination/promote a message/learn about history, the world etc. Which is in contrast to how his father would view literature and film for that matter. Maybe Aksorn's father represents the monarchy where it's total obedience and Aksorn is resisting that.

There's also De Profundis by Oscar Wilde. So I did a quick read up on it (too lazy to read the entire thing anyways) and found some stuff I could relate to this episode.

Both Oscar and Aksorn's mothers died.

While Oscar is a writer, Aksorn is aspiring/hoping to be one. I don't know if he started yet.

There is a quote from the letter "I am completely penniless, and absolutely homeless. Yet there are worse things in the world than that. I am quite candid when I say that rather than go out from this prison with bitterness in my heart against the world, I would gladly and readily beg my bread from door to door."

If we focus on the bolded part of the quote and words 'homeless' and 'penniless' this is how it relates to Aksorn. We know Aksorn is not 'homeless' but he has 'shunned' his family home. That home has become a 'prison' for Aksorn just like Wilde has his own prison as well.

Maybe it's a stretch but I'm finding someone 'similar' between Oscar/Bosie (Lord Alfred Douglas) and Aksorn/Songjam.

Oscar had written that letter to Bosie but was not allowed to send it to him. But let's say that he was allowed to send the letter - Oscar is trapped by the prison he's in, there's a distance between him and Bosie and to bridge that distance he writes a letter to him. Aksorn and Songjam are 'close' in their developing relationship and that they could sit against the mirror and converse with each other but there is a distance in that they are from two different dimensions where they cannot access the other one (as far as we know).

There's also one thing that I've noticed which is the use of mirrors. We see it in the series as a barrier between dimensions and it's used as a time travel device in Thawiphop. However there's also references to it elsewhere, specifically with relation to Oscar Wilde. I found this excerpt through a translation of Oscar Wilde's Salome:

"No, no, you would not have that. .... But I will look at you no more. Neither at things, nor at people should one look. Only in mirrors should one look, for mirrors do but show us masks." (edited to focus on the last sentence).

Through Memory and in the Letter and Salome I'm sure they're both referencing mirrors in the sense of reflecting an image. Before the comet hit, Aksorn would view the mirror as something used to show his reflection. In Salome, the mirror is used symbolically as something depicting an absence of masks. The character sees all else as fake and the mirror as showing him reality. Maybe the reflection shows what we are like inside.

However, ever since the comet hit his apartment, Aksorn no longer sees his reflection but the mirror has given him access to a whole new dimension. We're not able to see Songjam's world as yet so I'll address it through Aksorn's side. Aksorn is sort of living two lives now. The one where he goes about his daily life that Songjam cannot be a part of and the other where it's just Aksorn and Songjam and no one else. If anyone else enters his room, would they see Songjam or their own reflection. Is access to the world through the mirror only for them?

I've heard this series is only 6 episodes so I'm interested in seeing how this mini series progresses.

[weresilver]

My, my, looks who's alive! Another fic of mine has been consuming my thoughts. I just finished the first chapter for that one at a little over 6k words. Fun stuff. I want to post that one for Halloween (though with the Steddie big bang, who knows), but we'll see. I might hold off on that one and try an focus on this one once more? We'll see. For now, enjoy! Oh, if the @ tags don't work, or if you just don't want to be tagged like that, I'll also be using the "Pin a String fic" tag :)

[Part 1] – [Part 11] – [Part 13]

@madaboutmunson @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dijkstraspath @spectrum-spectre @epiclazershark @redheadchimechild @steddie-there @gayngerthings @manda-panda-monium @goodolefashionedloverboi

Pin a String to My Chest – 12

The reunion

Wayne had been coming to work as usual during the week Eddie was missing, confident that he'd show up fine, returning from an improvised trip he and the older boys from the club decided to go on. Nevermind the fact that Eddie hadn't called; he'd never failed to let Wayne know where he was before.

He knew Eddie wouldn't have killed that girl, maybe someone just broke into their trailer—

A full week after finding her body in the trailer, he got a call from the hospital, saying that Eddie had been admitted during the night. He spent the rest of that day as well as the night there. The next morning, the press announced his kid's innocence — to some people's surprise, apparently, if the nonsensical noise he heard from the TV was anything to go by.

They went on about a man called Peter Ballard, obsessed with the Creel murders and determined to recreate them. He chose their targets, stalked them, and killed them a few days later. Chrissy Cunningham happened to be most vulnerable when she decided to reconnect with an old middle school acquaintance.

Wayne didn't pay much attention to the TV after that. He made the calls he had to in order to stay with Eddie in the hospital, but he'd still have to work some nights. Not many, but some.

He met the people who claimed to have helped Eddie, and despite the insane story they all told him, he found he believed them. Hopper coming back from the dead — or wherever he was taken to, he supposed — and confirming it all helped. A little.

The Henderson kid was there as often as he could, often doing his homework next to Eddie's bed and talking about it as if Eddie would reply to him at any moment, tired of all the science talk. Wayne worried about the kid, but he didn't know what to tell him, especially not when the first thing he did was hand over Eddie's necklace.

Dustin was there. With him, the Wheeler girl had said. Wayne couldn't imagine what that must have been like.

Eddie had been admitted ten days ago. This was the third night Wayne had to go to work since then. He'd been doing his best to ignore the guilty looks as much as the disbelieving ones, and so far, no one had tried talking about it all in his vicinity. Now, he knew people were talking elsewhere, but as long as he didn't hear it, it should be fine.

Wayne shouldn't be here. He knew that, his coworkers knew that, his boss knew that, but apparently he didn't have a choice.

The call came close to 4 am, about two hours before the end of his shift. One of the supervisors, a man he could never remember the name of given how rarely he saw him, called out for him, saying there was someone on the phone.

"It's from Hawkins General," he clarified softly once Wayne was close enough. "Didn't say much, but I assume it's about your nephew."

Wayne was quick to thank him and walk into the office. He picked up the phone with a deep breath.

"Hello? This is Wayne Munson."

"Mr. Munson," a woman answered, sounding too chirpy for the hour. "It's Linda." Right, Eddie's nurse every other night. She was one of the nicest ones he'd met so far, always a kind word and gentle touches where his nephew was concerned. "You might want to get here soon, Eddie just woke up."

She had promised to call him if anything happened, personally. Wayne's heart was racing, at first for the fact she was calling at all, but then for the fact that Eddie had woken up. She spoke some more, though he wasn't sure he absorbed much of it.

He hung up with a promise to be there as soon as possible. He spoke briefly to his supervisor before the man was waving him off.

"Just go, I got this."

He never drove so quickly in his life.

Linda was waiting for him at the front desk, her smile widening when she saw the state he arrived in.

"I told you he was tired, Mr. Munson," she said, turning to walk further into the hospital without preambles. "You could have taken your time driving."

Wayne shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "You said he asked for me? No way in hell I'm keepin' him waiting."

Linda didn't try making small talk after that, leading the way to Eddie's room. Not that Wayne needed directions after spending most of the last ten days here, but the sentiment was nice.

She opened the door gently, letting Wayne step in first. Eddie seemed to be asleep, but it was clear he had woken up at some point; the thin blanket covered only half of his uninjured leg, the other slightly elevated with a pillow. It looked like Eddie had tried to move around. His left arm was in a sling, probably to keep him from stretching the wound on his chest and shoulder.

"Let me know if you need anything," Linda said from the door.

Wayne nodded absently as she closed the door. He moved the chair closer to Eddie's bed, the scraping noise enough to make his nephew's face scrunch up.

"Hey, kid." He kept his voice soft, not wanting to disturb Eddie if he wasn't awake but letting him know he was there just in case.

"Wayne?"

God, the kid's voice was rough. He gently patted Eddie's forearm, avoiding the bandages, and kept his hand there.

Eddie's eyes fluttered open, face creasing in drowsiness and confusion. "You…?"

"I'm here, Eddie," he reassured. He was probably smiling a little too wide for what Eddie was used to, but he didn't really care. Wayne helped him drink some water from a cup left on his bedside before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Eddie moved to shrug a little, but grimaced in pain. "Achy," he said, with a scrunched up expression that told the discomfort was a little deeper than that. "What happened?"

Wayne shook his head. There wasn't much point in talking about it when Eddie looked on the verge of sleep once more. If Eddie had actually forgotten the circumstances of his injuries, he guessed having the rest of his little monster slaying group around would help more than Wayne talking about it could.

"We'll talk when I'm sure you won't forget it."

Eddie hummed, nodding slowly. "Stayin'?" He asked, slipping into an accent that didn't come out often. His eyes slipped close, head slightly turned to him. "Missed you."

"I missed you too, kid." He squeezed the arm he was still holding. "I'm not goin' anywhere, go back to sleep."

Wayne made himself as comfortable in the hospital chair as he could, not once letting go of his nephew. The kid seemed relaxed, though that might be the work of the painkillers; Wayne had been told the state Eddie arrived in, and he guessed the painkillers would be needed for a while.

Minutes passed in silence, as Wayne watched Eddie breathe. It had become routine, making sure his nephew was still there. It was because of that routine that Wayne saw his face contorting into a frown right before he groaned.

"Eddie?" He asked, leaning closer to him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Thinkin'," he mumbled, slurring with sleep. "Not goin' to the concert next week, huh?"

"That's, uh, that's tomorrow, actually." Eddie let out a questioning noise that sounded awfully confused. "It's…" He trailed off, glancing backwards at the clock on the wall. "It's almost 5 am on April 7th, kid."

Eddie was staring at him, confusion clear in his eyes despite the low light. He looked away after a moment, turning his gaze forward.

"Oh," he whispered. He took a deep breath — as deep as he could, all things considered. "Okay."

Wayne couldn't help but raise a brow at his non-reaction. Eddie had been excited for this concert for weeks, going on rants about the concert whenever he lay eyes on the tickets that Wayne was safekeeping. Metallica and Ozzy. Eddie had learned a song or another from one of them, Wayne couldn't tell which one. He'd spent so much time practicing it…

"Don't look at me like that," Eddie mumbled, frowning. "Can't do shit about it now." He pulled his arm free of Wayne's hold and slowly rubbed his eyes. "Should've just—"

"Not been attacked?"

Eddie froze. So he did remember. He slowly turned to look at Wayne, who wanted to grimace as the movement seemed to stretch the bandage on Eddie's neck. His eyes were wide, looking afraid in a way Wayne hadn't seen since Lauren brought him over at 7 years old.

"I—I didn't…" His breathing picked up, and his hand pressed against the bandage on his chest. "I didn't do it." He shook his head, grimacing. "I wouldn't—"

I wouldn't hurt them.

Eddie couldn't finish his sentence, but the desperation in his eyes made it clear what he wanted to say. Wayne knew he didn't do it, that he would never hurt anyone. He knew who the actual murderer was.

"Eddie, son," he grabbed his hand, one of the few areas free of bandages. "I know, okay?" Eddie's gaze was fleeting between his eyes, looking for a catch he wouldn't find. "I need you to breathe, Eddie, as deep as you can."

It took a couple of minutes and many repeated words before Eddie was breathing easily once more. He was frowning, clenching his hand around Wayne's fingers.

"There you are," Wayne said softly. "Your new gaggle of friends made sure I knew what was going on."

Eddie's expression didn't change, but he nodded. "You… You believe 'em?"

"Got no reason not to." He shrugged. "Hopper coming back from wherever he was sure helped."

Eddie opened his mouth to question it, most likely, but all that came out was a tired sigh. "Sure, whatever."

Chuckling, Wayne patted Eddie's head, making a bigger mess of the kid's hair. He was sure that Eddie would demand a wash soon.

"Get some rest, son, I'll be here."

Eddie hummed and, surprisingly obedient, closed his eyes. He moved a little to adjust himself on the bed and was out almost as soon as he got comfortable.

It wasn't long before Wayne fell asleep as well, more tired than he'd realized after a nearly full shift.

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

Hi been following for a while, but saw your stuff about school! I completely understand feeling anxious about the future regarding it, to be honest i feel the same way sometimes! I’m in my mid/late 20s now and only just in the process of getting my Bachelors, i’m a sophomore currently! i work full time as a barista and am part time in school, so a lot of my thoughts are about whether or not it’s worth it to continue on when I can maybe find more productive work elsewhere. Something I find quite comforting is seeing all the others who have given their support to these answers, so thank you for even being vulnerable enough to start these conversations. As for any uncertainty, honestly no one really knows what they’re doing. I have a manager at the shop with a Masters in business of all things, and he is still so uncertain about his future, but regardless just taking things one at a time. I know that an English degree may not be the most lucrative degree for myself but it’s something I love dearly and find important enough for the potential risks. I try to instead focus on other things that make my life whole and beautiful in conjunction with the understanding that things may not be what I hope. The great thing is that we as humans are resilient and i trust so deeply that you will be able to find a way to make it work. many people have degrees they don’t use, and alternatively people without them find their ways into happiness as well. I have friends who went to trade school, or simply worked their ways up chains in unexpected jobs, or followed passions for yoga and became instructors. The whole scope of the future is overwhelming and we will never know it until we are there, for now all that’s required is to know what comes the next day and await the surprises that come

waaah this is SUCH an incredibly sweet message... i have nothing to add... everything you’ve said here resonates and is a comfort... thank u for sharing this and i’m wishing you the best of luck with continuing your degree! i majored in english too and had the best time and though i’m still trying to figure out where to go from here i don’t regret having pursued this field at all :-] 💝 we will take things day by day and everything will be alright!

[teine-mallaichte]

Day 17 @augusnippets - alt promp : protective caretaking

A few days after being seriously injured 84 is back training, 83 sees and feels compelled to intervene.

Asset 84 masterlist

It had been just a few days since Alex had shielded Sam from an onslaught of gunfire, sustaining severe injuries in the process. Sam had managed to carry Alex to the extraction point, and for the past several days, Alex had been under intensive care in the facility's medical wing. Today marked their release from medical care, a step towards recovery that Sam hoped Alex would use wisely.

As Sam walked past the training yard on their way to another task, they were taken aback by the sight of Alex among the other assets. Sam’s heart sank at the sight. Alex was participating in the training exercises, but the image was jarring.

Every movement Alex made was marked by visible effort. Their usually fluid, confident motions had become labored and clumsy. Each step seemed to send ripples of discomfort across their face, and their grimaces of pain were more frequent than usual. The harsh drills, which should have been routine and almost automatic for someone of Alex’s caliber, appeared to be exacerbating their injuries rather than simply testing their skills.

Sam hesitated, grappling with the decision to intervene. Protocol was clear: disrupting a training exercise was against the rules, and Sam's handler was known for their strict adherence to regulations - unlike Sams handler who had a relatively hands off approach.

As Sam neared the training area, they noticed Alex falter, nearly collapsing from the exertion. The sight of Alex's weakened state spurred Sam into action.

"Sergeant," Sam said, their tone firm but controlled.

The sergeant, a grizzled veteran accustomed to the demands of the training yard, turned with a mixture of surprise and irritation. "What is it, 83? The odd numbers are not training until this afternoon."

Sam met the sergeant’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “I’ve been instructed to collect Asset 84 for a briefing, Sir.”

The sergeant’s eyebrows arched in surprise at the authoritative tone in Sam’s voice. “Who instructed you?”

“I was given direct orders by Sergeant Jackson,” Sam replied, maintaining their firm stance. The chance of anyone actually checking seemed low, and in this case worth the risk - they had to get Alex away from the training session.

The sergeant scrutinized Sam for a moment, eyes narrowing. The sergeant then nodded begrudgingly, clearly annoyed but unwilling to challenge the supposed orders. "Fine. Take 84 and go."

Sam wasted no time. They moved quickly to Alex, who was struggling to maintain their balance. The sight of Alex in such a weakened state stirred a deep well of concern within Sam.

"Come on, Alex," Sam said softly, curving that the sargeants focus was elsewhere before slipping an arm around Alex's waist to support them. "Let's get you out of here."

Alex leaned heavily on Sam, the relief in their eyes unmistakable. Every step away from the training yard was a step closer to reprieve from the grueling exercises that had pushed their already battered body to its limits.

"You will get in trouble for this," Alex whispered, but made not effort to pull away.

Sam shook their head gently, tightening their grip around Alex's waist as they guided them away from the training yard. "You’re worth the trouble, Alex," Sam replied quietly.

Alex’s steps grew more uneven, and they leaned heavily on Sam, “Where are we going?” the whispered.

Sam hesitated, they hadn't thought this far ahead. The medical wing would be the most logical place, but the staff there would almost definitely alert Colonel Carter. Alexs quarters were an option, but Carter had a live monitor of Alexs quarters in her office.

"My quarters," Sam finally replied, assets entering each others quarters was discouraged but not actively against the rules.

All assets quarters looked identical - gray walls, gray tiled floor, and the minimalist furnishings. Sam helped Alex over to the cot, easing them down.

"I need to make sure you haven’t torn any stitches," Sam said, their voice steady but gentle as they crouched beside Alex.

Alex winced slightly with each touch, but their eyes remained closed, trusting Sam despite the pain. Sam carefully examined Alex’s wounds, their hands gentle despite the urgency of the situation. The lighting was harsh but necessary for a thorough check. Alex winced and grunted with each touch, but their eyes remained closed, focusing on Sam’s presence rather than the pain.

"You’re doing great, Alex. Just a few more checks," Sam said softly, their voice imbued with a tenderness that Alex rarely heard from anyone other than Sam.

Alex managed a faint smile through the pain, "I would have been fine with a few more hours of training."

Sam looked up, and shook their head, "You should not be the main person that I need to protect you from," they teased.

[cyandreamsinwords]

Sneak Peek: Goblet of Fire — Chapter Three

Mild spoilers below for the upcoming chapter, you’ve been warned :)

———————————————————————-

Typically, the sight of either Lucius or Draco Malfoy would put a frown on Harry’s face, but the sight of Lyra Black had that instinct on pause. For whatever reason, he felt whole unprepared to see her right there in front of him, as happy as he was about it.

Harry hadn’t thought about Lyra as much since he’d arrived at the Weasley’s house. There was simply too much going on to spend any time fantasizing about the future or what could have been. Perhaps it was the isolation of the Dursley’s that gave him so much time to think about Sirius and her. He still sometimes leaned on them though when he was closing his eyes at night and trying to fall asleep.

The minister rushed over to Lucius as he entered the box. The man was leading his family to their seats, but he stopped to speak with the minister.

“Ah, Fudge, how are you?”

“Good good!” Fudge turned and greeted the rest of the family. “Narcissa, young Mister Malfoy…Miss Black.” The minister very awkwardly acknowledged the latter, looking like he was being taken back to a night he very much wished to forget. Lyra just eyed him neutrally. He motioned to the Bulgarian Minister. “Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk—Obalonsk—Mr.—well, he’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can’t understand a word I’m saying anyway, so never mind. And let’s see who else—you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?”

The faceoff was tense, and Harry feared there’d be a reenactment of the face off in Flourish and Blotts. Neither man was happy to see the other, and everyone but the Minister seemed to notice.

Ginny and Hermione both gave Lyra a friendly wave, which she returned quickly, earning her a subtle pinch to the back of her arm from her Aunt. Lyra’s hand dropped and clasped in front of her, looking away as her aunt leaned down to whisper in her ear. Malfoy snickered from his spot, notably not receiving a pinch for that.

“Good lord, Arthur,” Mr. Malfoy said under his breath, skirting under the Minister’s attention. “What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?”

“Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”

“How—how nice,” Mr. Weasley said with a strained smile.

The Malfoys parted with one last disdainful look from Mr. Malfoy to Hermione, going and settling in their seats. Harry was torn between glaring at Mr. Malfoy and trying to catch Lyra’s eye. She was looking just about anywhere else, before leaning over to talk to Draco in a soft voice. Draco was busy trying to mimic his father’s dirty looks, but something she said had him turning to look elsewhere with interest. The two of them began to chatter away.

After an awkward reunion, they all settled into their respective seats.

“Slimy gits,” Ron muttered.

Harry leaned over to Hermione. “Have you heard from her at all this summer?”

Hermione didn’t have to ask who he meant. “Just the once, in the first weeks back. I’ve written to her a few times since, but haven’t heard anything back.”

So it hadn’t just been him then. At least Hermione got a single response. As more and more of his letters went unanswered, Harry began to fear something had happened. Seeing her here, now, he still wasn’t convinced something hadn’t. She couldn’t even look at them.

Just then, the Minister started the game. Harry tried not to look back at her. It was easy enough as the game was going to get sucked in and focus solely on that. But every other moment in between plays, every time he thought about it when there was a pause, that focus drifted back over to try and catch her attention. She never gave it to him, and really, what would he do with it if he got it? Talk to her telepathically?

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 5 Escape - Baneful Royal (Kylo Ren x Reader)

[A/N] so the last time I had posted for this fic, it was a hot minute ago. And when I say hot minute, I mean about close to a year. SO with that being said, here is the 5th chapter. This one was kinda hiding underneath a bunch of commission files so finding it now was very nice. If you would like to read more Kylo fics from me, I have a Masterlist link in my bio, as well as a A03 and wattpad under the same name. Thank y’all for reading <3

There was no time to feel guilt. 

There was no time to feel anything. 

You were ushered without a thought. Running on autopilot, the disturbing sounds of a city thrown into chaos were drowned out with your focus elsewhere. Cate’s arm was looped into yours, the cloaked figure of Kylo walked in front of you without assistance or care. The deed was done, and the next step was approaching soon. 

Pushed into a carrier, it wasn't until you felt the deep rumble of the ship coming to life that you finally came back to the present. Seated and strapped in, you glanced around you to see Cate at her place behind you. On her side, two guards of Ren stood like stone, waiting patiently. For what, you didn't know. 

Voices spit out necessary actions for takeoff, with a confirmation greeting. A captain’s seat sat in the middle, with Kylo planted firmly. With each acknowledgment of action, he nodded. A shake, and you were off into the air and into the atmosphere. 

“What’s happening now?” You turned to Cate. “Where are we going?” 

You knew of your certain protection, but nothing else after. Had you left when the Colonel told you to, maybe you wouldn't have been labeled a possible enemy to the planet. Gone off quietly, you might have still been on Naboo. You showed yourself rather idiotically. With a hand out in offer, any chance of going home was thrown out the window. 

Cate looked straight ahead blankly, ignoring your asking gaze.

“I said where are we going?” You asked. Ignored, you watched as Cate’s pupils flashed quickly to her side, towards the knights. Turning back in your chair, you realized. You sabotaged her mission, and any other advice or word could further deepen a possible and serious “demotion”. 

Watching as Naboo faded away in the side windows, you were startled with Kylo's sudden announcement. “On our arrival, we are to ignite engines for light speed on route to Coruscant immediately.” 

“This wasn't part of the plan.” You said aloud, shocked. “I didn’t agree to this part.” 

“Then what was, councilwoman?” Kylo called to the reluctant voice. “Had you listened, we wouldn’t be taking the actions that we are now.” 

“I wonder with whose help.” You spat back. The newly deceased governor was right. There was an argument wherever you went. 

“The option to go back and drop you off is always open. But, I hope you realize that actions will have consequences.” He stated, almost tauntingly. “It would be a shame to see your head on a spike.” 

“A favor was given for the good of the people.” 

“They won’t see it that way.” He sneered, leather glove squeaking. “The truth is soon to come out. Where are you going to go when that does happen?” 

It was best to shut up. 

With many to witness, the assassination of a government official was without a doubt a high profiled crime to commit. To accompany the ill news, the revelation of a colleague and former head of state with her hand in his murder would surely send embarrassment to the planet. More harm was caused than good. 

Maybe it was the smartest idea to escape. 

You shut your eyes tightly as you the grim thought of Abie and Sara finding out. You lied to them both. Hatred was a driving factor, but not murder. You prayed that they could one day forgive you. It was probably going to take a long time to do. 

You saw the faint reflection of the Finalizer bounce off the glass panels, indicating your destination was close. 

“The Supreme Leader’s secondary vessel requesting permission to dock, copy.”  

“Permission granted.” A modulated voice rang out. “Prepare to unload.” 

The last First Order ship you had visited was nothing compared to this. The vast high ceilings towered over all, with as many small ships docked neatly into the walls. Officials ran amok, hurrying to finish a job or to clear the way. The ship jostled as it landed, causing you to tussle in your seat. 

“Wow.” You whispered. 

“I believe it is time to disembark, councilwoman.” You heard Kylo say, taking off his seatbelt. You did the same, standing up as gracefully as you could. 

You felt the faint brush of Kylo’s cloak graze your leg. Standing next to you, but not fixated on you. His presence felt overpowering, like he had done this many times before. The adrenaline was still rushing in you, garnering you to shake and quiver slightly. 

As the hatch opened, you saw two single file lines on either side of stormtroopers. They stood with their blasters in hands, looking straight ahead in respect. As you inched forward, you caught eye of a special trooper. Tall and donned in shining silver, this stormtrooper was like no other. A black cape hung over one shoulder, with a red line trimmed on its hem. With no eyes to look into, you could only imagine what kind of a being they were. Their air was grand, big shoes that were filed with fear and respect. 

“Welcome back, sir.” They said to Kylo. Their feminine tone was evident in their voice, clear and orderly. You had no thoughts, except one. If they are a she, then that is one big woman. 

Still in awe, you almost missed the silver commander’s next question. “Have we acquired the subject?” 

“Affirmative, Captain.” Kylo replied, walking next to her. 

“Hold on, subject?!” You called out, still two steps behind them. You tried to rush to Kylo, desperate for answers. Before you could reach him, gloved hands pulled you by your forearms and held you back. You glanced at them both, visors staring down menacingly at you. With Cate’s footsteps echoing off the ramp, the image of her strode in front of your person. Still blank. 

“You are to be escorted onto the ship until we hit lightspeed.” Was all she said before turning and joining Kylo. 

Your head dropped. All of this felt fake. Nothing of it felt real at all. Not even an hour ago, you were home. With a skip in your step about the future and being free of the thorn in your side, only to be replaced with another. Slowly and painfully, it was going to be hard to dig this one out. 

A First Order vessel. Shooting out of the sector and into the inner Rim. The death of a political official and your life as you know it. All within a short amount of time. The time to process it began as you were escorted out of the hangar and into the ship itself. 

You felt like you were hit with a ton of bricks. 

The hallways bustled with every employee of the Order, rushing to unknown locations. The memo of lightspeed must’ve been ordered quickly. All of their heads were down as you passed them, averting their eyes from walking cloaks of darkness on either of your side. 

You clasped your hands in front, careful to take note from those around you. You glanced up at the Knights, whose boots clanked almost like the Supreme Leader’s. There was emptiness to their step, like strictly programmed droids who were on the way to the next task. 

“Are you both allowed to talk to me?” You asked, looking up at one of them. They continued in silence. “I see. Maybe a vow of silence.” 

You felt the need to press further. It looked like a risky attempt to talk to monsters carrying you to your death. Risky, or maybe sad. 

“Those weapons look menacing. Serious damage to anyone that crosses you.” 

Silence. 

“Good, I didn’t want to talk to you bucketheads anyways.” You muttered, rather disappointed from the one sided talk. 

You heard the same leather squeak from them like you did with Kylo earlier. You looked down at one gripping his weapon rather tightly. You swallowed, yet taking another que. At least it relieved some of the stress you were carrying, saying that. Sad that they were in your path of insult, but then again, you would swiftly be met with a blade in your throat. 

The tight hallway grew to a broader area, full with more First Order personnel. Stormtroopers guarded every corner, standing at full attention. The knights beelined you to two sets of blast doors, with people bustling about. Most walked in and out, in pairs or with a holopad in hand. When coming into their sight, there was another hush among them. But this time, there were slivers of notice. Gawked at wasn’t new to you, but the setting was. 

The blast doors opened, revealing the bridge of the ship. Various stations were hard at work operating the ins and outs of the ship’s defense and operation. So focused, there was no acknowledgment of your presence. There was a quick conclusion that if they were looking anywhere besides their screen, they would be shot on sight. 

Ahead of you were the giant windows out looking at Naboo. It felt like a screen, seeing your home from miles above the surface. Growing bigger as you were walked further in, you couldn't help but tear up just a little. 

These conflicting feelings of justifying your dark deed for the good of the planet and your own wounded morals clashed against one another, fighting for the dominance of your stand. You had sickened you, the need to fill your own selfish gain. Moment of passion destroyed your life as you had known it. Now it was time to pay the consequences, but stubborn as you were, it was going to be hard to accept it. 

“You are to wait here. Our Master will join shortly.” One Knight croaked, voice startling you out of your moment of sentiment. 

They backed up some, keeping their distance. The blast doors opened again, this time the flamed hair general jaunting towards you. You flipped around, taking in a deep sigh. Bound to be on an official First Order ship, you had to at least expect to see him sooner or later. 

“Ah, councilwoman.” He shot you a grim, wide smile. “We meet again, under some unfortunate circumstances.” 

“Unfortunate, indeed.” You replied, gripping your hands tightly. “Where’s the Supreme Leader?” 

“Oh come now, at least give me a chat.” He feigned disappointment mockingly. “After all, this is my setting, my domain. I am more than welcoming.” 

“I’ve been told, or rather talked over, that we are to be out of this sector any minute now.” You said. “The Supreme Leader cannot possibly be holding out on an escape.” 

“I wouldn’t call it an escape, councilwoman. However, we may just have a chance at some resolution to the chaos that put us here in the first place?” Hux raised his brows. 

You tried to read his face to see if it had some truth. You silently hoped that you weren't being pushed into another set up. Peace with Naboo was what you so desperately strived for. It would calm your worried mind. If it meant that you could never return to maintain harmony, you would take it. But not without heartbreak. 

“Then let us try.” Hux finished, turning his back to you as he continued with his recent assessment for departure. How acutely they all listened, hanging on to every quip and jeer he threw out in his words. Still able to take orders under such stress, unlike you did. “Annoying as this inconvenience is.” 

“I did what I did for a reason. You would too if you were pushed so far.” You snarled back. “Would you have done it too?” 

Hux glared at you, his face changing so slightly. Eyes softened, almost to sympathize. Human as you both were, maybe it did cross his mind of holding himself out from the rest. He glanced up. The doors opened and Kylo glided in. The scowl came back and so was the top general of the First Order. 

“I give commands and follow orders.” He said. “I see no reason for such emotion.” 

“It's a proper system for a machine to work. There's a purpose for it.” Kylo followed up, his helmet still on. “But we are not droids.” 

“And you encouraged it.” You said to him, staring into his dark visor. “I'm not the only one at fault here.” 

“Who said it was not the right thing?” You heard Kylo said lowly in his helmet. Moving closer to you, his voice was soft enough to not be picked up by the vocoder. “Put trust in that decision, (Y/n).” 

Biting down on your lip, losing your focus on him. 

“Put trust in me.” 

A beep sounded off loudly on the bridge. “This is the Security Force of Naboo requesting urgent communication with your vessel.” 

Breathing in deeply, you felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest. Thumping loudly, rhythmically against your rib cage, you would rather your heart did some damage right now. Anything to avoid this, avoid your betrayal. 

“Stay here. Leave communication to us.” Kylo said. “You will not move from your spot, unless I say otherwise.” 

“I will not move from this spot unles you say otherwise.” Aghast at the loss of control of your body, your feet planted where they stayed. Frozen once more. 

“Holograph transmission, sir. Permission to accept?” A controller asked from their position. 

Permission granted.” 

Kylo and Hux stood in front of the transmission circle, their fronts lighting up with the familiar blue light. You drew in your breath as you saw the Queen, standing solemnly with Abie at her side. The Queen conveyed a deep seriousness you knew deep inside her. Dormant, having been cast aside when the council had done it for her. It wasn’t the childlike display of fear that was present. No. It was the face of a proper monarch, ready to take on her new challenge for her people. 

“Appearance is everything,” you told her. “They won’t just take your words into consideration.” 

For a brief moment, the creeping anxiety of your situation disappeared. In its place, was pride. Just for a second. Abie, on the other hand. A different story. His anger seethed off of him, being well seen from almost everyone on the bridge. 

“Your Majesty, to what we owe the pleasure of your company?” Hux said. 

“There is none, General. I would like to be told of the reason for my urgent return to the palace, with my home in disarray and chaos. Our Governor slain and my councilwoman nowhere to be seen.” She proclaimed. “Even with our arms open to your presence in our desperate hour, we are repaid with nothing but hardship.” 

“Although a controversial decision, your majesty, it was the right one.” Kylo began, taking over for Hux. After all, who wouldn’t want to hear the murderer tell his side of the story? “Let's face the clearer picture. Governor Sillin was a joke to Naboo. A laughing stock to the galaxy. So in fairness, the First Order did what was the preferable outcome.” 

“Did this outcome happened to include the disappearance of Councilwoman (L/N)?” Queen Revisalla snapped back, her tone grew sharp. “Full control is what you strive for, then so be it. But I ask, no I demand that she be returned alive and unharmed.” 

“I see.” Kylo replied, feigning a deep thought. “I’m afraid I cannot allow for the release of her into your hands.” 

“And why?” Revisalla asked, the tension from her and Abie grew even more. “This is beyond ridiculous. To capture a government official and a former monarch is a serious crime.” 

“That does not matter to us, as you can tell your majesty.” Hux cut in, clasping his hands behind his back. “We did ask for full allegiance in order for help from our forces. Young as you are, do try to take a smarter route and think of this as a small price for our assistance.” 

How badly you wanted to break free of your place and take down Hux as well. You wouldn’t need a saber for this, only your bare hands. 

“I understand your emotions, your majesty. “Kylo stepped forward. “There is a shared understanding when something dear is taken away from us. It becomes a driving force, our mindset. Sometimes for the better.” 

You gazed at the queen. Her eyes glanced down, in deepful thought. It wounded deeply as you saw her face drift into each possibility and hard decision. Everything was spilling over. Whatever was to happen next was going to determine your place. Your life was on the line. And so were the million lives on the planet. 

“I will not back down without a fight for this.” Revisalla spoke clearly. “We will bring her back, with your help or not. I will see to it that she is returned home alive.” 

Your breath was knocked out of you. There was a vague idea on what kind of response that would be. 

“So be it.” Kylo said. 

“As you left us no choice your majesty, we must do what is necessary.” Hux proclaimed, turning to the rest of the bridge. “All personnel to their stations. Deploy the TIEs. Let's make sure the message is sent.” 

“Yes, sir.” The voiced response was swift, echoing in your ears as the worst had to come. Still frozen to your spot, there was no way physically that you could try to stop this. But you were going to try. You heaved as you struggled to move. The fight response in you cried out to be released. 

“Wait, no!” You screamed. Suddenly, as if to be let off a chain, you stumbled forward. Catching your step, you rushed to the hologram, panting. Revisalla took a sudden intake of breath, surprised. So did Abie. Shaking your head, you held up your hands. “You don’t want to do this. Please do not do this.” 

“Halt the deployment of TIEs.” Hux commanded. Your adrenaline dropped in relief. 

“Is your safety compromised, Lady (Y/n)?” The queen asked you. Abie’s appearance could’ve looked just like yours, relieved but shaken. 

“No, I’m fine. I’m okay.” You breathed. “I beg your majesty to listen. One person to an entire people, it cannot happen.” 

“Excellent point.” Hux mumbled. 

You ignored his remark as you tried to find the right words. “I am not worth it. If this is where my path leads me, this is where I stay. I need you to understand that.” 

Revisalla swallowed, her fingers slightly tugging on her long sleeve. Not only were you talking to her, but to your heartbroken friend as well. He looked down, so still you thought the hologram was frozen. 

“I understand. Efforts in the future to retrieve your person will be permanently terminated.” Strong and loud, you felt the tug of loss. You were now officially a subject to the First Order. 

You nodded. 

“Before our communication is severed, there is something I need to ask of you.” Revisalla added. “There are words of your involvement in the death of the governor.” 

You felt Kylo’s presence flair behind you. His air taunted you as the cold truth was about to be let loose in the open. This was a moment that he was waiting for, as if he was waiting for the downfall of your life. 

“Is there truth to this?” She finally said. 

You looked back at Kylo. As it pained you to say, this truly meant there was no way to return back to home. The tie would be forever severed. The planet would be safe. Abie and Sara would be safe. The queen will be safe. And maybe peace will find its way back to Naboo, with a brighter future for everyone. The one you so longed to see.

“Yes.” You replied firmly. “I killed Sillin.” 

Abie’s shoulders fell in defeat. Revisalla nodded solemnly. The disappointment from both of them radiated strongly.“I-“ 

“There you have it, your majesty. Loud and clear.” You were cut off from Hux. “It is now time that we make our departure from the sector.” 

“I bid you all farewell.” Revisalla’s tone was monotonous, professional. Just another goodbye to visiting “diplomats”. The hologram faded and you were left with the sight of Naboo once again. 

[thebuggiest]

The Magnus Protocol ep 1-4 thoughts

So many spoilers for TMA and TMAGP under the cut lmfao god it's good to be back on my bullshit

FIRST SHIFT- First file? case? whatever, that's deffo this universe's anglerfish. The speaker says that something took Jacob into the shadows, and the returned Jacob's comment on being "some of him" mirrors what Sarah Baldwin said to Jon in TMA ep 96: "Some of her. Skin, a few memories. Not on the inside." Fun callback to the first episode of TMA. Second file elicits a reaction from Sam because of the mention of the Magnus Institute, so the horrible thing he's seen that was mentioned in the TMAGP interview-with-Lena trailer is likely linked to it. Also, the Magnus Institute burning down… I really hope that means this universe has a Gertrude, and she's still around. I'd also like to point out the mention of strange symbols found in the Institute. I'll talk more about this soon. Also: what or who killed redcanary? There's a part of me that wonders if there's an Archivist wandering in the tunnels beneath the institute similar to the one under Alexandria in TMA ep 53 (rc mentions spelunking specifically, not just urban exploration, which is why I think he went into the tunnels for sure.) Other notes: Teddy quit. You can quit here. That's good to know. Less comforting is that the recording of Sam and Alice in the bar sounds like it came through one of their phones- muffled and not in the office where the computer microphones can get at them. Also: Gwen Bouchard is interesting. I want to know why she's too stubborn to look for work elsewhere, as clearly she isn't wanting for money. She could have some affinity for government secrets due to some connection with the Eye, but even in TMA's universe Elias was just an upperclass meatsuit for Jonah Magnus. I'll be curious to see what unfolds.

MAKING ADJUSTMENTS- I have a hunch that Ink5oul is going to pop up again. It seems like a rich vein to plumb given how the tattoo they(she?) gave their victim and what unfolded seemed tailored to her. Plus, they were the instigator of the horror without being its focus, and they've got a big cool tattoo that will make them easy to recognize. More importantly, the victim apparently found Ink5oul when looking up symbols for a commission involving alchemy. I think alchemical symbols (or other weird occult symbolism) might crop up as a recurring motif in TMAGP, as they mentioned symbols in the Institute as well (placed there by the inhabitants or whoever started the fire?) Other notes: Alice has a brother named Luke who is part of a moderately successful band but doesn't play an instrument. I'll circle back to that.

PUTTING DOWN ROOTS- Nice gristly little (probably) Corruption linked story. Outside of the case, I like that Alice's devil-may-care attitude makes it hit harder when she tells Sam she's being serious about something. It's also kind of interesting to see that Sam gets along much better with Gwen than Alice does. I wonder if that comes from a dislike of confrontation. I'm also curious to see where this mention of redundancies goes-- it's a contrast to TMA, in which getting let go was not something they had to worry about.

TAKING NOTES- The story about the murder violin is quite clearly Slaughter, and yet the fact that it thirsts for his physical suffering as well gives a tint of Desolation over the thing, despite the lack of firey motifs. Maybe we'll get more of the gray areas between powers in TMAGP. Something I really want to speculate about though is whether someone's little brother in a band might get hold of the evil violin sometime. That would be sick. More in line with the story: Merchant immediately reminds me of both Breekon and Hope and Mikaele Salesa. We will see if he and/or his oddly shaped sack come back into things. I wonder if the sack is an artifact itself, as he sounded a little surprised by the appearance of the violin in its depths. Other notes: Interesting that the computer system (I forget how they said Freddy was 1337ed out) is dropping info for both Alice and Gwen here. I could have sworn Alice just exploited a loophole or something to find out about Sam's snooping-- except that's the exact opposite of what she's been telling him to do. And Gwen seemed like she was just doing her job when the video or audio file dropped into her workstation.

Anyways. Excited to hear the next ep tomorrow.

[slusheeduck]

Count Only The Happy Hours

PART I: [I][II][III][IV][V][VI][VII] PART 2: [I]

II.

“She certainly is taking her sweet time, isn’t she?”

“Well, she did say two hours.”

“She has three minutes, then.”

The tension from the meeting with Grandmaster Almalexia hadn’t lessened, and her absence thus far had only prompted more unease in the elder mer of their party. Nerevar kept glancing to the door, waiting for a retainer to come and announce their guest. Alandro looked resigned, his thoughts plain as day on his face: See? She’s already overwhelmed. Voryn, meanwhile, was keeping rigid time as he drummed sharp nails against the wood of the table. 

Sil, though, couldn’t be less bothered. He’d procured some manner of clockwork mechanism to fiddle with, and he seemed quite content to let Almalexia take as long as she liked if it meant not having to talk.

Naturally, it fell to Vivec to find a solution. 

“Well! No sense sitting here in silence,” he said brightly. He ushered a retainer over, whispering to him. A moment later, the young mer darted off, only to return a few minutes later (just about three minutes, given Voryn’s huff toward the door) with a lute. Vivec gave the retainer a warm thanks, but before he could do anything else, a groan rose from around the table. 

“What?”

“We’re already stuck here, we don’t need your yowling accompaniment, Vivec,” Voryn growled, to which Alandro nodded vehemently in agreement.

“Yowling?” Vivec looked to Nerevar, who winced.

“It…you are still learning, Vehk,” he said, diplomatic as ever. 

Vivec set a hand on his chest, looking over at Sil. He didn’t look up, but there was something much more pointed now in his focus on his work. Vehk puffed.

“Well. If my talents won’t be appreciated here, then I will simply need to go elsewhere,” he says.

“Elsweyr may not be far enough,” Alandro muttered under his breath. (It was a hard task to stay huffy after that fun bit of wordplay, admittedly.)

With a particularly vain-sounding humph!, Vivec made his way out of the room. He kept his chin up in a particularly wounded fashion all the way out of the building and to the city gate. Then, he dropped the act. 

Of course he knew he wasn’t any good with a lute–he had ears, after all. But he had a feeling that there was something more than simple tardiness keeping the grandmaster from meeting them; yes, he’d only seen her for a brief moment, but he had a feeling she wasn’t the type to miss an appointment for vanity or absentmindedness. And if anyone would be able to uncover the true reason for her absence, no one could do it as non-threateningly as him.

He casually made a show of tuning his lute as he made his way toward the Indoril camp, and his suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of a harried-looking blonde chamberlain coming toward him. Oh, what was her name? He was usually quite good with…ah!

“Hlareni!” he greeted brightly, catching her attention. She came to a stop, looking for the source of her name, then froze as she saw him. 

“Oh! Oh, er, Councilor Vi-Vivec?” When he nodded, she let out a relieved breath before stiffly clasping a hand over her heart and bowing. “I am so sorry for the delay, Councilor. I…well, I was just on my way…we hope the Hortator and the rest of the council isn’t…that is…” She looked up as she noticed he was still tuning. “...you, ah…you’re playing the lute? Now?”

“Yes, but not very well,” he said breezily. “At least, not yet. Give me a few years, and I’ll be a master at it.” He plucked a few strings, then looked up at Hlareni; the confusion seemed to have stifled some of her nerves. Good. “Is the grandmaster all right?”

“What? Oh! Yes, yes, she’s…she’s quite fine, in good spirits, she just…” Hlareni bit down on her thumbnail. “Can I…tell you something? But it must stay between us.”

Vivec paused in his plucking. “Of course, serjo.”

Hlareni glanced over his shoulder at the gate, then back over her own at the Indoril camp. She shifted back and forth before she looked back to Vivec. “Almalexia is…nervous.” Before Vivec could comment, she continued, the admission apparently releasing a torrent of thoughts, “And the thing is, she’s not used to being nervous. She’s a very good leader! The things she’s done for House Indoril in the Mourning Hold have been wonderful; people are even starting to say she’s doing better than her father, Oblivion keep him, but…I mean, it’s been her dream since you all have started your liberation of Resdayn to join you and…and I think it’s sort of…you know, hitting her that this is real.”

Vivec kept his face very neutral, but his mind was spinning. Did that mean Alandro was right? Was she going to pack up shop and leave it to them?

Hlareni chewed on her thumbnail again, shifting her weight back and forth. “Could you…I mean, I know we’re already late and that it’s going to be difficult to smooth over, but could…could you talk to her?”

“Me?”

“Yes!” She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I can’t begin to tell you how much she’s enjoyed your accounts of the battles. So I…well, I mean, obviously she has huge amounts of respect for everyone on the council–especially the Hortator–but I…I think you might be…I think she might trust you more.” Hlareni froze up again. “Unless! You…you don’t want to. Oh, by the Three, I don’t want you thinking we need babysitting. I just…” She wheezed out a breath as Vehk held up his hand. 

“I would be honored to speak with Grandmaster Almalexia,” he said. “Though I’m curious why you think I would be more qualified than Nerevar. I won’t deny my stories are good, but they are, in the end, simply stories.”

Hlareni’s thumbnail had found its way back to her teeth. “Are they not true?”

“Of course they’re true. But I’m only the narrator.”

Hlareni nodded. “I…well. Since you started recording Nerevar’s efforts to free Resdayn, she’s hung on every word. While the Hortator is…incredible, and she respects him so much…well, that’s the problem. She respects him too much.”

Vivec’s lips turned up. “So she doesn’t respect me?”

“No!” Hlareni covered her now very red face, and Vivec laughed. She peeked through her hands, then let out a beleaguered breath. “I…what I mean is…with the way you write, and how long she’s been reading, she…might see you like a friend. Sort of.” She covered her whole face again. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I…”

“Hlareni.” Vivec held up a hand. “I am humbled that the Grandmaster would think of me so fondly, and as I said before, honored to speak with her.” He gave her a wide smile. “Point me toward her quarters, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Hlareni peeked out from behind her hands, then let out an explosive breath of relief. “Yes, I…I…thank you, muthsera. I…I’ll…I’ll go to the council right away a-and explain…” She trailed off as Vivec shook his head. “No, no, you know what you simply must do, Hlareni? It’s very, very important,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “Do a check around the perimeter, make sure everything is in line. After all, the Grandmaster has been caught up with some unruly soldiers, hasn’t she?” He kept his gaze on her, eyebrows raising to see if she caught on. It took a moment, but her honey-colored eyes widened. 

“Yes…yes, of course,” she said, bouncing her head in a half-bow. “Yes, I will…I will go walk the perimeter. Again, thank you, muthsera.” She gave him a grateful look, then quickly went to walk the perimeter–with any luck, she’d be a little less frantic by the time she returned. In the meantime, there was the Grandmaster to take care of.

Even without Hlareni pointing out the main tent, it was clear which one he’d find Almalexia in. It was large, in the peculiar shade of blue Indoril was known for, and the curtains at the entrance were emblazoned with golden wings.

Vivec approached it quietly, then slipped inside–he may not be a scout these days, but he could still move as silently as one when need be. So he stood by the entryway, hardly breathing, as Grandmaster Almalexia paced the length of the tent, too caught up in her thoughts to notice him. She still wore her armor, but a few strands of copper hair had escaped her tight braid. But more shockingly, the sharp poise that had been so striking just a few hours before was gone, replaced with doubt that softened her face and creased her smooth brow.

Oh, she looked so very nervous, and so very, very young.

Vivec stayed put for a moment, silently editing his plan, then he stepped back out. A moment later, he burst in, feigning breathlessness.

“Oh, thank the Three for you, Grandmaster,” he said, managing to stifle a smile. “I heard about the fight.”

Almalexia blinked. “The…fight?”

Vivec nodded emphatically. “Yes! Between one of your soldiers and one of ours–a Dwemer, as I understand,” he said, too quickly for her to argue. “But you were able to intervene before they came to blows–what diplomacy! And done so quickly.” He rested his hand over his heart, head bowed. “What an honor it is to have someone so capable joining us. I can’t wait to tell the council—I know Nerevar will be deeply impressed.” 

His eyes flicked up to look at her, an unspoken question of whether she knew what he was doing. For a moment, she simply stared back at him. Then, ever so subtly, her golden eyes brightened, and she stood up straight, chin lifted and queenly bearing returned.

“Yes, well. As much as I regret keeping you all, I-I’m afraid I had no choice but to put our soldiers first. It’s…they’re the…”

“The lifeblood of our cause, yes!” Vehk stood up straight, giving her a wide smile. “I promise, no one will be upset with you for doing so. Would you allow me the honor of escorting you to the council? I hope you don’t mind–I need to be getting back there myself, after all.”

Almalexia’s queenly bearing faltered, just a bit, in confusion. “You weren’t sent to fetch me?”

“Oh, of course not! No, you see…” He held up his lute. “...I’ve been rudely ousted from the meeting room because my passions are unappreciated.” He slung it over his shoulder. “But it’s just as well. Let’s go back to the council together.”

Almalexia agreed, and after picking up a small parcel, she followed Vivec back out of her tent. Several soldiers paused to salute her, but her golden eyes were focused forward, expression savage and shoulders high and tight. Vivec glanced over her in silence for a moment, then did what he did best: chatter.

“Now, I’ll admit, I haven’t been as descriptive about our council in my writings,” he said. “Nerevar, of course, you probably know intimately by now, but while he’s our shining beacon, he’s far from the only one working to free Resdayn. Given your choice in apparel, you’ll likely be working very closely with Alandro Sul, the Immortal Son of Azura–no, I don’t know if he’s literally immortal; after the better part of a decade of my asking him, he still hasn’t confirmed or denied it to me. But he’s no-nonsense and practical to a fault. Oh, don’t take that as my disliking him. He’s a brilliant tactician, and he’s saved all of us more times than I’d be able to write about. If you charm him–and, I think, you will–he’ll be as loyal as anyone could want. Then, of course, there’s Voryn…”

“The High Councilor of House Dagoth, I recall,” Almalexia murmured, distaste clear on her tongue. “I imagine he fancies himself a puppet master?”

That caught Vivec off-guard, and he paused. “What do you mean, muthsera?”

Almalexia crossed her arms, expression still hard. “House Dagoth deals in shadows. Some say that they’re descended from Mephala herself. That’s ridiculous, of course, but it is true that the whole house will whisper sweetly in your ear while stabbing you in the back.” She glanced to Vivec, pausing. “So I’ll admit, I’ve wondered what cause their High Councilor has being among you. Even moreso considering that the Hortator is an Indoriil.”

“Well, not by birth. He’s an outlander,” Vivec said with a shrug. Almalexia gaped.

“An outlander?”

“Yes. From what he’s told me–and I trust Neht implicitly–he’s from a merchant family on the mainland, somewhere out in Nibenay.” Vivec shrugged. “I don’t know the whole story–you’ll find that Nerevar is very much a here-and-now kind of mer–but my best guess is that he came back out to his motherland to escape the Alessian Order mess happening in Cyrodiil.” 

“But you’ve never said that in your accounts,” Almalexia said, a slight frown starting on her lips.

“Of course not. I’m trying to get all of Resdayn behind him–those of us who’ve met him know that he’s Azura-blessed and Veloth’s heir, but convincing others that they should trust an outlander with their freedom?” Vivec clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Not likely.”

Almalexia’s frown deepened–whether it was being in the dark of Nerevar’s outlander origins or offense that Vivec thought she wouldn’t support an outlander, he wasn’t sure. But he quickly resumed their walk, chattering again.

“Then, of course, there’s Sotha Sil. He’s the very, very tall mer, with silver in his eyes and hair–funny, really, considering how fond he is of bronze. He’s threatening to put Dumac’s head architect out of business by the time he’s of age next year. Did you read the account I wrote six months ago, where I mentioned that he’s the reason we won the battle out by the stoneforest? He made these jumping spiders–saved us so many casualties–and they took out the whole Nord army.” Vivec smiled. “I’m very lucky to be able to call him my brother.”

Almalexia looked at him curiously. “So you’re…House Sotha as well?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, no, we’re brothers by choice, not by circumstance.” He smiled. “I was born from a simulacrum.”

“A…what?”

“A facsimile, an automaton. You see, I hatched from a dreugh egg; that’s hardly the sort of thing a chimer could carry. But the dwemer were very kind, and very interested in me, so they created…” He trailed off, squinting at nothing in particular. “No, actually. No, that’s not quite right. I’ll have to go back to it.”

Almalexia stared at him. “Go back to your birth?”

“Well, yes. I haven’t found the exact way I was born yet, but I will with enough editing.”

The grandmaster stared at him in silence for a moment. Then, suddenly, she did something wonderful.

She laughed.

“Is everything a story to you?” she asked, still smiling. There was no sting in the question, just pure amusement making the gold of her eyes sparkle. For a moment, Vivec was silent, gaze traveling over her face in equal amusement.

“Of course,” he finally said, a slow smile growing on his face. “What is existence but the grandest story we have? I just have the forethought to edit.”

“Alma!” 

They both turned to see Hlareni, the poor thing, running over to them. She bent over double as she reached them, hands on her knees and curls a mess as she caught her breath. 

“I…sorry, I…I was doing a round a-and…”

“My suggestion,” Vivec interjected. “I’m very, very sorry to have made you run, sera.”

Hlareni shook her head, taking a breath before she stood up straight. “I…it’s fine. Alma…always says it’s good for me.” 

“Well, it is,” Almalexia said with a shrug. Hlareni shot her a look, and Almalexia smiled–clearly in a much better mood than when she’d left. She lead the way toward the gate, and Hlareni glanced to Vivec.

“You work fast,” she whispered as they trailed behind the grandmaster. “It takes me hours to talk her down when she gets too caught up in her head. How did you do it?”

Vivec gave Hlareni a little wink. “Amazing, what a bit of storytelling can do.”

~

They made their grand entrance, and Almalexia graciously apologized for the delay; one of her soldiers had gotten into it with a Dwemer mercenary, and she’d had to take care of it. Vivec added that he’d caught the tail end of it; it was impressive, really, how she managed to talk both sides down before it could come to blows. She glanced at him, smiling just enough to share a secret, then got to business.

And it probably was terribly important business, but Vehk simply could not focus on the actual words she was saying. 

He was entranced as she spoke, at the way she commanded the attention of everyone in the room–even Voryn, reluctant as he looked. She stood tall and imposing, golden skin and eyes blazing in the low candlelight of the room. At some point, she presented a gift to Nerevar–on behalf of all of House Indoril, of course–of a beautiful pair of moon and star earrings, thus cementing his position as the Azura-blessed Hortator of Resdayn. 

Almalexia’s words, he realized as Nerevar thanked her, weren’t important. Well, they weren’t unimportant, of course, but that wasn’t what commanded his interest. There were stories upon stories in her face, in her posture, in the cant of her head and the flame-colored braid down her back.

It’s not until a paper slid in front of him that Vivec was forcibly brought back to Nirn.

“I took notes for you.”

Vivec blinked, as if waking from a dream, and looked to Sil. “You what?”

“You were daydreaming. I took notes.” Sil sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. “Not as flowery as you would be, but I’m certain you’ll be able to embellish.”

Vivec blinked a few times. “Was I that obvious?”

Sil’s pale eyes flicked up to him, and his eyebrows rose. “You’re always obvious. But usually it’s during animunculi talks–”

“By the Three, we need a better term for those.”

“–or when Voryn gets into it about other Houses. This seemed like the kind of meeting you’ll want to write about.”

  Vivec grinned. “I have the kindest brother in Tamriel,” he said, looking over the notes. Oh, but they were dry…then again, he should expect as much from Sil. His eyes rose to look over Almalexia again, watching as she chatted with Alandro. Her face was as bright and eager as the average, star-struck recruit as he recounted the strategy of their most recent battle, a world of difference from the cool, poised Grandmaster that had just spoken, and another world away from the nervous young woman he’d seen hardly an hour ago.

“What do you think of the Grandmaster, Seht?” he asked, sitting back in his seat. Sil shrugged, already returning to his fiddling.

“She’s fine.”

“Fine? Just…fine?”

Sil looked to Vivec, frowning. “Well, what do you want me to say?”

Vehk started to answer, then stopped. What did he want Seht to say? Well, he wanted validation that she was compelling and spellbinding. That someone else saw the spark of life in her. Which, of course, was asking a lot, especially from Sil of all people. 

Hm. 

Finally, Vivec shook his head. “I want you to say nothing else,” he said, giving Sil a smile. “But I think she’ll be good to have around–her chamberlain, too. Azura knows you need some people your age around here. I worry that you’re only going to be able to talk to machines soon, hla’daesohn.”

Sil rolled his eyes, picking up his clockwork mechanism before he pushed himself up to his feet. “I’m going.”

“To your machines? To prove my point?”

“To Neht, Vivec.” He paused, spindly fingers drumming on the back of his seat. “Did you know he was going to make me an advisor?”

Vivec’s eyebrows rose. “Officially? No, he never told me. But I could see it coming.”

“You could?”

“Of course. You’re our greatest source on mechanical beasties outside of Dumac’s architects. And Nerevar likes rewarding specialties.” He tilted his head. “Even if it sometimes takes the better part of a decade.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He sent Sil a warm smile. “You’ve earned this, kena. I know the gears in that fair head of yours never stop turning, but try your best not to overthink it.”

Seht sent him an incredibly dubious look, then made his way over to Nerevar. As the boy approached, Neht’s eyes were on Almalexia as she and Alandro kept chatting, an unreadable look on his face as he clutched the earrings. He looked genuinely startled as Sil got his attention, and as Seht was no doubt laying out his concerns and questions about his new role, Nerevar’s gaze kept darting back to Almalexia.

Hm.

Vivec shook his head, finally picking up Sil’s notes to go over them and start editing and embellishing. This, after all, was a monumental day in Resdayn’s history, and the Chimer needed to know about the formal alliance of House Indoril’s forces with the rebels under the Hortator’s command.

And, perhaps, he could sneak in a few lines about the poised girl-queen that led them. Then, like with Nerevar, maybe the rest of Resdayn could see Almalexia the way he did.  

[agonizedembrace]

Caitlyn is well aware of who the other woman is, of course; but even had Evelynn not carried herself with a look that suggested unending boredom or perhaps even annoyance, she would not have approached her, respectful of her space as much as of her girlfriend's job. Even then, she stays across the street, leaning against Vi's motorcycle while waiting for her to return (hoping that whatever the reason Evelynn's assistant called her there would be no dire issue, when Vi had been so very excited about this job).

Her gaze, inevitably drawn to the other woman, flickers between apologetic for being present at all, to determined as she decides to use her chance to speak up. Maybe more directly than she ought to, addressing a worldwide famous singer, but that mattered little, at the present moment.

"Miss Evelynn — my name is Caitlyn. I'm Vi's girlfriend." The politeness in her tone is that of one raised from birth to adopt proper etiquette. It never wears off completely, no matter how long she's been trying to escape that life now. "Forgive me if I shouldn't be here — we weren't expecting her to be called in at this hour. It's a relief to see you well."

A pause, the tip of her fingers tapping against the motorcycle's seat; the diva's state did raise the question of why her bodyguard was needed, however. Nervousness does not detract from the earnestness shining in her eyes when she continues. "I know it's not truly my business to interfere, but Vi truly appreciates the opportunity you have given her. I hope there hasn't been any dire issue for your assistant to want to see her now?"

(hi han idk i wanted to make them meet 🫡 from @aimedshots ofc)

@aimedshots

In truth, Evelynn had not paid attention to why Robin had called her new bodyguard out at such an hour. Her focus was elsewhere -- to her girlfriend's texts she'd received just an hour ago, and the ever busy emails from the farm.

Disinterest could be seen from a mile away: there's certainly more that she'd like to do than stand outside on a chilly November night. Not that the cold actually makes much of a deference to her, rather an annoyance more than harming her in any way. In a brief glance, she did notice the other woman, yet granted nothing more than what someone might call a 'side eye'.

Part of it is simply her not caring -- none of her business. Long as the woman didn't get in her way ( and really, it wasn't like Evelynn was doing anything currently ), then Eve had no reason to be annoyed by her presence. And along that line: the fact of having a body guard. There's reasoning, Evelynn believes, but she didn't give effort to listen when it came to. Something about making her image look better?

She had already long shrugged the thought away.

The woman-- Caitlyn -- greets her. Polite and proper, a drastic difference from the very bodyguard she's hired. Gradually does she raise a brow, pocketing her cellphone to grant her attention. "Please, if another calls me miss I'm afraid I might lose my mind." Her own tone is light, intending to not come off as terrifying once more. "Evelynn is fine."

Golden hues now drift, from Caitlyn and back to where Vi ( that was her name... right? ) stands, in discussion with another. Her attention returns as the term girlfriend reaches her ears; a reminder of who she's meant to be returning to, and whose night is likely ruined for Caitlyn.

"So you're who she speaks so highly about," under the smoothness of her tone, is a hint of teasing. Her lips curl the slightest as she adjusts her stance, to something more open, before continuing. There's amusement in her gaze, not for the connection of Vi and Caitlyn, but for the mere humane thought that Evelynn could actually be in a harmful situation. "She's a hard worker and doesn't ask many questions, that's all I can ask."

"All is well, I'm sure. Robin tends to worry when it comes to new hires," affection laces her tone now, as she regards her assistant. With a hum, she glances back to Caitlyn. "... I'll be heading home to my own soon. To ruin date night... now that's a crime."

[ode-to-odes]

IFComp Reviews: We're Not Sailing in Circles... Right?

Here's the next three reviews from the comp! For some reason, all three of these involved going back in time/UNDOing/time loops. Makes you wonder how random that randomizer is.

Last Valentine's Day by Daniel Gao Polished little time loop. Fun to play, thoughtful commentary on love, romance, and relationships. Short and sweet; I actually couldn't find any meaningful difference between options (this one is choice-based), which I don't love, but if you're looking for a ten-minute piece that'll make you think, this is the one for you.

One King to Loot Them All by Onno Brouwer TLDR: Linear parser about wearing a loincloth and swinging an axe. Fun to play, and I'd actually recommend this to players just starting out in IF (though you should probably play a game with standard commands first).

DICK MCBUTTS GETS KICKED IN THE NUTS by Hubert Janus TLDR: Don't give up after the first ending you reach. Nor the second. Nor the tenth. And if you see flashing neon lights, you've got the wrong file.

Full reviews (and spoilers!) below the cut.

No full length reveiw for Last Valentine's Day. It's so short that what I wrote above is really all I have to say.

OKtLTA: My favorite part about this game was actually the custom commands. They added an extra element to the tone of the game without being so outlandish as to confuse the player into checking the command list every other turn. The writing was very consistent with no obvious mistakes (the combat scenes were especially engaging and fun to read), and I encountered no bugs while playing.

The game is very linear, with no red herrings; don’t go into this game expecting a puzzle adventure, because that’s really not what the focus is. The one thing which was unexpected and moderately confusing (moreso to a seasoned player than a new one, which is interesting) was [SPOILERS] the use of the UNDO command in the game. I struggled with how far back I had to go with it before the end goal became obvious. This was mostly confusing because it’s a new use of a mechanic which is typically unused or relatively ignored within games, so seeing something different done with it was jarring. However, once you get used to it, it’s actually really cool. Make sure you read the descriptions as you’re going.

To players used to twisty, puzzle-y parsers, this game might feel a little too linear. That was certainly how I felt, but I don’t think it makes it a bad game: just one that I didn’t feel as engaged in as some other parsers I’ve played. I do think it would be a great game for a beginning IF player or a player looking for some more slashing and hacking than they might normally find in a parser game. The helpful hints and storymode contribute to that rec for beginners as well. It’s clever, funny, and a strong debut work which I had fun playing, so. There you go.

DMGKitN:

Okay, I’ll be honest: this game wasn’t next in my randomly assigned list. But after reading through the confusion regarding the two versions of this game floating around, I just had to play it. I managed to access both versions of the game. When I chose the “Play Online” version, I was given the crazy one, with flashing colors and words and general confusion. I do think this version is elevated by the fact that there’s an actual game to be played elsewhere, or else it would definitely be a very confusing entry (as we’ve seen already). To be so honest, as someone who’s never used twine, I actually thought the flashing colors and weird changing perspective of the page was kind of impressive, but maybe that’s actually easy to do. I wouldn’t know.

The longer and visually calmer version of the game was fun, though. This one I got by downloading the game file, by the way. I did suffer through a few iterations before realizing that the undo button was not there for decoration and I could just go back if I made a choice I didn’t like. That said, I saw quite a few of the endings, and I’m pretty sure I made it to the fullest ending, which was definitely worth the wait. While it took me a minute to get into the story, once it’s really going and you’re exploring the different options, it’s actually a pretty funny experience.

And as a checkmark, all the writing, grammar, coding, etc. was perfect. Points for polish.

[titoist]

in the series of posts wherein i describe a stance towards social media structures in my mental landscape - wherein i uneasily hold this feeling that a person that publicly journals can write 2 or 3 entries on a given topic if they so choose but which, if written about beyond that point, begins to take an outsized appearance to the passive observer who views each entry as a decisive operation & influences a kind of 'flanderization' of the journaler to the basic elements of that topic & their dynamic with it;

at some point in last night's dream, i opened the Tumblr ask feed. the one that shows incoming messages from the ether. this tends to happen sometimes, in my dreams. i would say it happens a lot. well, at least in cumulative terms: it's happened a lot. maybe my nerve-endings realize that they've already gone through all the available functional combinations of people & concepts i do actually know, and so fall back on something more basic, more fundamental. a kind of short-circuiting. a break-glass-in-case-of-emergency concept. from it, you can reconstitute everything else. rational anonymity exists elsewhere, but in the realm of dreams it's totally gone. in a dream, anonymity just means the ability to be everyone - not no-one, or even anyone. it's that exact feeling, everyone. in dreams and in the real world, when the real world seems like a nightmare, you get the sense that it's humanity's speakerphone. it's important; it obliterates you, to the extent that humanity is obliterating & imposing. in no situation do i see myself as being more than faintly there, more than a hovering presence, so of course humanity's opinion overrides mine.

in this dream there were ~5-10 new asks. largely i recall basically all of them as being random spam-like collections of numbers & letters because my eyes didn't linger on them enough to process them as anything more than an ambient background, the sensory input equivalent of white noise, to the two i did focus on. they had this immediate & expectant quality to them, like this person undertook communication with the expectation of it being - in all the ways that mattered - something like a one-way-mirror text messaging. they input something &, after a brief period of time, receive an output. some vague but coherent message i don't remember followed, ~5 hours later, by another message asking whether they should wait for another day to send me something so i'm freer to reply. the latter had this kind of impatient, almost passive-aggressive quality to it. like they were the ones exasperated by my unpredictable schedule & mood.

now that i am thinking about it, the random-ambient-spam asks did have a kind of… implication to their presence. individually they meant absolutely nothing but, collectively, did gesture to a general idea, a happening, a purpose. it isn't the first time it's happened in my dreams: my blog has been 'discovered', and by that i mean that 'someone' has widely disseminated it in some way for whatever reason. and the ask messages are from people coming to gawk and express confusion and correct my thoughts and feelings and, so to speak, lay down the law on how i should be thinking. or maybe they're just curiously sending me things with no explicit purpose or goal, for better or for worse, because that's kind of just what they've been indirectly conditioned to do with things that seem very foreign, with the same blank and meaningless curiosity of a kid pushing their finger through the bars of a benign animal's enclosure at the zoo. in any case, it isn't a good feeling. being 'discovered' carries within it this corresponding feeling of being 'located', like how a target is located. animals can be discovered, but only prey is located. i guess i think of myself as prey - or, to put forward a slightly less sympathetic framing: at the very least, i am afraid of being thought of as prey.

probably it's just that anonymous tumblr ask messages serve and have served for a pretty long time the situationally real but otherwise conceptually baffling & unbelievable social role of "the voice inside my head that represents the interchangeable observership & gaze of humanity at large -- given miraculously the tools to actually externally really talk back to me", & my brain sometimes puppets this gaze in order to hurt me because it sees some instructive purpose to it. or maybe it's just fun to torture yourself when you're a reptilian cortex, what do i know