#devon deviates

[rewcana]

List of Traits that are Common Amongst Autistic People

i compiled a list of traits, symptoms, behaviors, etc (largely sourced from the book "Unmasking Autism" by Devon Price) that occur in autistic ppl at high rates. it's crazy how many of these i identify with. i think having them all in one place may be helpful to some people.

List:

-Substance abuse & addiction

-Eating disorders

-Rejection sensitivity

-Digestive issues

-Sleeping disorders

-Depression

-Anxiety

-Social anxiety

-Eczema

-Dyslexia

-Dissociation

-People pleasing

-Personality disorders

-Audio processing problems

-Joint issues

-Issues with coordination

-Stimming

-Executive dysfunction

-OCD

-ADHD

-Gender dysphoria

-Difficulty with emotional regulation

-Frequent crying or never crying

-Hyperfixations

-Sensory issues

-Sensory overload

-Extreme burnout

-Safe foods

-Safe / comfort items

-Self harming behaviors

-Difficulty regulating noise level

-Being non binary / gender nonconforming

-Difficulty understanding people's intentions / feelings when communicating

-Melt downs / break downs

-Shut downs (akin to dissociation)

-Nonverbal (completely/ partially)

-Diluted sense of identity

-Paranoia

-Catering and changing personality/ behavior to match a social setting (form of masking)

-Studying and analyzing social behavior to mimic it / understand how people are feeling

-Hypervigilance

-Insecure attachments

-Fear of vulnerability

-Prone to abusive relationships

-Special interests

-Rigid schedules

-Difficulty dealing with change in plans

-Sensory seeking / sensory avoidant behaviors

Following are quoted directly from "Unmasking Autism" by Devon Price

-Intense studying of a new favorite topic

-Needing to know exactly what to expect before entering an unfamiliar situation

-Not noticing sounds or social signals when focusing on an engrossing task

-Sticking to a very rigid schedule, and rejecting deviations to that schedule

-Taking a long time to think before responding to a complex question

-Spending hours or days alone sleeping and recharging after a socially demanding event or stressful project

-Needing “all the information” before coming to a decision

-Not knowing how they feel, or needing a few days to figure out how they feel about something

-Needing a rule or instruction to “make sense” before they can follow it

-Not putting energy toward expectations that seem unfair or arbitrary, such as wearing makeup or elaborate grooming

#autism #actually autistic #autistic adult #autistic #autistic things #unmasking autism #actually neurodivergent #neurodiverse #neurodiversity #neurodiverse stuff #devon price #unmasking autism by devon price #on the spectrum #asd #autism spectrum disorder

[centralkvetchmonolith]

This page from Unmasking Autism by Dr. Devon Price is a great example of why I can't stand Price's writing. Validating autistic existence (and complaining about how autistic behavior gets pathologized) is eminently possible without lying/swinging hard into the opposite absolutes.

Not only does he say "completely harmless" about behaviors that have readily identified harms, he labels common autistic behaviors (which should absolutely be understood, & contextualized as part of human experience) as "healthy", which at its most innocuous is saying that these behaviors are present in otherwise unremarkable autistic people but which I interpret to mean he believes these are *necessarily euadaptive* behaviors. The absolutism of "complete[ness]" and necessity has no place in serious writing about psychology.

Anyway that's the point I wanted to make, but here are some specifics about how these normal and understandable behaviors (many of which I exhibit) aren't harmless:

1) Not noticing surroundings can be super dangerous! Not noticing that people are trying to talk to you is mildly inconvenient (which is a harm)!

2) *Needing* to know what to expect implies that being thrust into an unfamiliar situation w/o information causes distress irrespective of the actual contents of the situation. That's a harm (despite merely being an extreme version of a universal part of human experience)!

3) The more rigid a structure is, the more catastrophically and frequently it breaks. Rejecting deviations often means rejecting necessary activities like eating, or like leaving a dangerous situation.

4) Taking a long time to fully respond to a question is fine. Giving no sign that you're considering — or have even heard — the question is distressing to yr conversational partner. I highly recommend going "hmm" or cocking yr head to the side when you think about things, if this is true of you.

5) Taking information into consideration is a healthy behavior. It is physically impossible to know literally all information about a decision. Depending on your definition of "all", this behavior may lead to spinning your mental wheels while never making an actual decision, which mad sucks to experience and to cooperate with.

6) Alexithymia (i.e. not knowing how you feel) also sucks to experience! Just because you can't name or even identify the existence of a feeling doesn't mean you don't have it! Like the other behaviors I've mentioned, alexithymia has no inherent moral weight.

Anyway! I love being autistic, and wouldn't choose otherwise even if I could, but some parts of it are maladaptive even when the only other people you interact with are also autistic, and I wish Dr Price would acknowledge that.

#autism #devon price #unmasking autism #actuallyautistic #please sir i am begging you for a crumb of nuance

[flowering-darkness]

So that I don’t forget this - things I need to figure out for Adriana:

Which parts of the story is she present or absent for? Her journey mirrors that of the player (because she’s already done it once before), but sometimes there’s no way for her to be in a certain spot or it makes more sense to be doing somewhere else at a given point in time. I have very few of these “deviations” established for maingame (e.g. she doesn’t do the Devon Corp raid, she’s with Luna for the Glass Workstation), and even the postgame ones I can think of are just set in terms of either people who are in the quest (Cresselia, Darkrai, Dialga and Palkia, maybe Necrozma) or legendaries I know she acquires and uses on her team (Marshadow and Giratina), so.. there’s a lot I can do here.

How does she interact with Ace? I bring this up for the sole reason that Ace was a completely new addition to Episode 19, and now that I’m leaning more into the anamnesis aspects with Adri’s status as the previous timeline’s player/protagonist (and her own experience having been Episode 18-except-she-also-got-to-the-Champion instead of 19), there is potential for something fun here. Saying that, though, the game itself doesn’t actually make a big deal of their newness as far as I know (compared to, say.. is it Aizen? in Rejuvenation), so I’m not 100% sure..

What would her interview with Gossip Gardevoir and profile from DJ Arclight be about? ..It would make sense for her interview to be playing directly after the player returns and the postgame begins, because it would be for her as the Shadow Champion, but Gardevoir isn’t there at that point in time. So maybe I can put an Arclight profile there, and then say the interview would be at another time - maybe even after the Giratina quest, but would she really talk about what happened there in such a setting??

I feel like there was something else. Probably to do with Luna. Hmm.

WAIT NO IT WAS TIMELINE NONSENSE the more I proceed with the concept of Adri being second the more I feel like that doesn’t work because of what Ame said. “Giratina broke things, so Zina fixed it. Then Lin broke things, so Anna fixed it.” - but we know Fern gets to the grand finale, so??? Something definitely needs to break but I don’t know what

Many things ^-^

#heart of the void #my self‑inserts #self‑insert: soul‑touched (adriana) #friend: card tricks and coding (ace) #of a city reborn (pokémon reborn) #none of this is going to make much sense to pretty much anyone but OH WELL #I can explain specifics if desired

[redrambles]

Thinkin about Team Aqua and Magma

When going over the villains and their teams in Pokémon, their actions typically range from the simple theft of Pokémon to unforgivable crimes, such as disturbing or controlling a legendary Pokémon to achieve a goal.

However, the only team leaders I’ve seen actually regret and try to fix their actions are Archie and Maxie. I don’t qualify N as he’s not the actual leader of his team, nor is he a true villain, falling more in the category of anti-hero. Guzma and Team Skull aren’t really the villains of their game either, just a gang of kids hired by Lusamine. At the end of Emerald, once the leaders realize their respective plans are destroying the world, they agree to put aside their disagreements in order to save everyone. After the game is completed, both leaders return the orbs they stole, and disband their teams of their own volition. Similarly, in ORAS, once a leader realizes his mistake, the leaders join and fight together against the game’s legendary weather Pokémon, and later reconcile. This leads to my next thought. Why did this all happen?

The reasons for the creation of both teams and hunting of Kyogre and Groudon is given in the games; Archie wants to expand the sea, and return it to the Pokémon, Maxie wants to create for land for the humans. When put out like this, these ideas are more noble, and both parties just want to help someone or something. Somehow though, we got to Archie and Maxie fighting to destroy both the world, and each other.

|| EVERYTHING FROM HERE IS PERSONAL OPINIONS AND HEADCANONS ||

Based on the fact that the two have such similar plans, and already seem to know the other well before the events of the games, I believe it’s likely that the two of them grew up together, and may have been close friends once, long before the games. They would have gone through school together, which is where they both first learned about the weather trio. I like to think that Maxie was the first to plan about helping the people, and expanding/repurposing land to do so. Watching this inspired Archie, and he focused on helping in his own way, working as a Pokemon Marine Rescuer. They continued this, and as they grew older, they grew apart, and Archie began to fight with Maxie about how his “important projects” were destroying the sea. This angered Maxie, as he believed his work to help humans was more important than the loss of some marine life. Tensions grew and their fights began to worsen, and at the end of their latest argument, Archie would leave for a distant rescue before making up with Maxie. While Archie was gone, Maxie stewed, and he began looking further into the stories of the ancient Pokémon Groudon as he worked, sowing the seeds that would lead to the weather apocalypse. Archie eventually came back to apologize to Maxie, but when he arrived, found Maxie’s latest project: the plan to awaken Groudon and use it to reduce the seas of Hoenn. Archie was furious, asking if Maxie realized how much this would hurt the Pokémon and their environment if he succeeded. Maxie responded harshly, saying that the lives of a few Pokémon were well worth the expansion and advancement of the people of Hoenn. This was the breaking point of their relationship. Archie, hurt and angry with his once-trusted friend’s decisions, steals Maxie’s plans, the only change in this being the legendary Kyogre, and it’s power to increase the seas. This betrayal then breaks Maxie’s side of their friendship. From here, both teams began to come together, and both leaders began to lose sight of their original goals: help the people, help the Pokémon.

Continuing on from here, slightly deviating and blending together the plot of the games, we follow Archie as our main villain, as Aqua attempts to steal the Devon Goods, then fights to retrieve the meteorite to slow Maxie and Magma on Mt. Chimney. Archie later sends Aqua to attack the Weather Institute to gain more information on Kyogre, as Maxie had only ever made plans around Groudon. Archie is the first to reach to reach Mt. Pyre, but takes the wrong orb, which begins to key in Maxie to the disaster on the horizon. The protagonist goes to storm the Magma Hideout, but upon reaching the end, finds Maxie refusing to fight. Maxie proposes a temporary truce to the protagonist, stating that trying to awaken Groudon with the wrong orb wasn’t likely to work, and that despite this obvious point, Archie would still use the Red Orb on Kyogre, awakening it without any control. The pair battle through the Aqua Hideout to stop Archie from boarding his stolen submarine, but arrive too late. Archie manages to make to Seafloor Cavern, and awaken Kyogre. Just as Maxie expected, Archie has no power over Kyogre, leaving it to climb to the surface, and push the weather out of balance. As the protagonist and the two leaders come to the surface, Archie states that none of this was what he wanted, that he just wanted the Pokémon and the sea he loved so much to thrive. Upon hearing this Maxie relents slightly, telling Archie he had never meant to go this far. The pair agree to work together help fix the mess they created, holding back Kyogre while the protagonist makes their way to Sootopolis to protect the Cave of Origin. From here, the story finishes out as normal, with the defeat of Kyogre, and the saving of Hoenn. Both teams are disbanded, the Orbs are returned to Mt. Pyre, and the leaders reconcile. What happens to the leaders after this is more vague, as the games have both leaders simply start anew. I want to leave their future mostly up to interpretation, though I think they’d likely face some sort of repercussions for the near-destruction of Hoenn, even if they did also help save it. It’d be nice though if Archie became a rescuer again, and Maxie became a sort of teacher, to continue his research in the earth. And this time, they don’t screw their friendship up.

Conclusion? Two friends-turned-enemies fight so hard they forget the basic science and Pokémon history classes they took together. I thought way too hard about this, but it was fun and I love these two and all of their dumb decisions.

#pokémon #pokemon emerald #pokemon oras #magma leader maxie #aqua leader archie #redrambles

[bonnielunkas]

Maybe 🐓 or 💖?

okay!! imma do both :]

🐓 :

this one has. multiple answers so i'm just gonna talk about all the aus the animatronic thing applies to, hope that's okay :]

so in lp and rewrite, for the core 5, it's ( mostly ) the usual. gabriel is freddy, susie is chica, jeremy is bonnie, fritz is foxy, etc etc. and then it deviates when you get to golden freddy.

in lp, it's cassidy and evan, like it is ( presumably ) in canon. meanwhile, in rewrite, golden freddy is andrew and kelsey ( the latter of which wasn't killed by rodger but shhh )!! andrew doesn't stick to golden freddy often, if at all, but kelsey does cuz it's part of their whole deal

and then in terms of the puppet, charlie is puppet in lp, and cassidy is puppet in rewrite.

and then in rewrite, the toys are also possessed!! there's a post about them somewhere on my blog, but to summarize ; gilbert is toy freddy, annie is toy chica, calem is toy bonnie, and albert and sylvia are mangle.

and then in most of my other aus it's either the animatronics aren't haunted ( restless + sitcom ( sitcom doesn't even have animatronics ) ) or it's just taking from rewrite ( anything hpsverse ( hps, top, eftp. etc ) )

💖 :

hpsverse has. a lot, since there's a MUCH larger cast compared to most of my other aus. i'm just gonna go over the more important ones ( aka hps and b-team, but other characters will probably be brought up as i see fit lmao )

also i'll be covering all different kinds of relationships :]

romantic : toby and pete / sportsmix, obviously. and then of course we also have sarah and millie, hudson and stanley / hudstan, and reed and shelly!! and while they aren't as important to the story here, micheal and jeremy :]

platonic : oh god where do i begin.

so, of course we have bteam!! but there's also;

julius, sarah and abby

julius and pete

toby, reed and tabitha

reed and pickle ( which is just canon but shhh )

devon and oscar

kelsey and andrew

oswald, gregory, cassie, chuck and mott

whatever toby and literally everyone he works with got going on

likely more i'm forgetting

and then in terms of family ;

the afton-fitzgerald-thomas family ( micheal and jeremy are the parents, with their kids being gregory, cassie and patrick. eggs is there too, he's their uncle, and he's got mina :] )

evan afton and jake, making jake part of the afton family

devon and mott being bio siblings that got separated and adopted by two different families

mick and sarah being cousins

julius, alec and hazel

reed, alexa and oswald

the canon siblings of course, toby and connor / pete and chuck

kelsey and their alive family ( stacy and kyle )

#lucas's inbox #ask game #fnaf #fazbear frights #fnaf au #fnaf lp #fnaf: rewrite-l #hpsverse

[pridepoisoned]

FOR THOSE WITH A REPUTATION | accepting!! @distortsverity sent: " i heard you were back. " hikari greets eris so offhandedly, but of course, the sight of her ( and barry's ) " former " adversary will always invoke more than just nothing underneath. she wishes looks could kill.

" keep in mind that even the strongest ties to devon can not grant true immunity, here. " she doesn’t bother voicing the rest of her threat slash warning : while you are on sinnohan soil, every step you take --- every word you whisper --- will be closely monitored.

“ so if i may ask, what business brings you to the streets of hearthome? ”

Returning to her childhood home (still nestled within the glitzy neighborhood just off of Hearthome's central shopping district) had been an irrational plan from square one, and now ERIS EVANS is absolutely sure that she's committed a critical error.

Why had she deviated so far from Devon's set agenda--an innocuous meeting with Sinnoh's most prestigious shakers and movers? Perhaps, Eris had rationalized, a trace of her father would be around here somewhere--an ultimately illogical hope. (The resident maid had put a quick end to her dream: her father hadn't returned, and Mother was abroad in Alola, staying at some glamourous all-inclusive yet again. Thank Arceus for her absence, at least.)

And now, perched on a bench outside of Amity Square, the wandering scientist slash spokesperson runs into her. The very last person that she wants to see. Talk about horrid timing.

Shut up! Eris's inner voice snarls, and a familiar, long-repressed rage roars to life in her chest like a reignited furnace. Arceus, a violent part of her wants to reach up and choke this haughty brat into submission, put fear into that imperious gaze. She still might, but for now, Eris manages to swallow her anger, just barely. There's a marked scowl curling her lips, and a barely trembling hand rests on one of the capsules at her side--but when she speaks, the practiced mask-wearer's voice is soft, bordering on casual. A twisted talent on full display.

"I didn't know I was so famous, or worthy of a visit from the Champion. I'm just using a portion of my business trip to visit family," she answers simply, not daring to volunteer any information beyond that. There's a momentary pause, and then Eris peers around Hikari, as if searching for something. After all this time, she can't resist.

"Hm. That's funny--I don't see any political puppet strings dangling from you today." Eris blinks, adjusting her glasses smugly. "Do your handlers know that their savior has escaped...?"

#distortsverity #(like HELL eris is going to tell hika about her MIA father lmao) #(just imagining these two standing off juuuust outside of amity square and laughing to myself) #(tysm for the send!! got carried away but you know how it is...) #(v. commander)

[kathrynalicemc]

The Phoenix Resistance - Epilogue: Eloise Yaxley

A/N: Tagging @cursebreakerfarrier and also @endlessly-cursed cuz I borrowed your children 😌

London, England - May 20th, 1998, 2:14 PM

Eloise Yaxley clutched a fresh bouquet of red roses in her hand as she walked down the busy London streets, following a path she knew by heart, having made the journey herself almost every week since she was eight years old. It was second nature to her by now. She barely had to think about the turns she made. That was until she came to a certain street corner. Her feet stopped in place as she hesitated for a second. Then she turned left, deviating from her familiar path for the first time in her life.

After what felt like years, and also mere seconds at the same time, she found herself at her new destination. Her heels sank slightly into the soft grass and earth under her as she stood in front of a headstone. The stone itself was polished and new, not a single weed or crack on it.

Antoinette Yaxley

1956 - 1998

Eloise sighed and gently placed the roses upon her mother’s grave. She felt guilty not feeling more sad that her mother was gone for good. To Eloise, her mother had died all those years ago. Her mother could truly rest now and Eloise could move on with her life and not feel obligated to stay by her side, endlessly hoping beyond all logic that some day she would wake up. The cage was broken and she was free. Her life was now hers to make of it. She was no longer driven by spite and hatred.

Eloise suddenly felt a presence beside her and a dark shadow enveloped the headstone. She didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“You okay, Lou?” Azariah Steele gently asked as he too stared down at the bundle of roses.

“I’m getting there,” came her response.

“I’ll never get used to this. Way too many of our friends are now under the earth,” he remarked and Eloise gave a murmur of agreement.

Her gaze dropped and rested upon her arm at her side. Her forearm now had a large scar, only small traces of vague black ink could be seen among the scarred flesh. Once the war was over, Eloise had brewed a small vial of acid in an attempt to finally rid herself of the dark reminder.

Even though Devon had exonerated Eloise and revealed her true loyalty, many people in her life still regarded her with distrust when they saw the tattoo on her arm. When she had decided to go undercover as a spy, she knew she had to make it believable. A lot of friends she had cut ties with months ago still hesitated about reconnecting, having truly believed she had become a Death Eater and broken their trust. She never once really cared about how others felt about her, that was until now.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Eloise wondered out loud.

“That’s dangerous,” Azariah joked with a smile.

“I’ve killed so many people for the Ministry without a second thought. I told myself I was morally good because I was only killing bad people. But someone I once knew taught me that even bad people are still people,” she mused as she remembered the image of a certain young woman slumped against a door, selflessly sacrificing her own life for the lives of Death Eaters who would never do the same for her.

“I’ve got so much blood on my hands, Rye. I’m so tired of the killing,” she turned and finally looked at the face of her best friend she hadn’t seen for months.

“I imagine you aren’t the only one. This war has taken its toll on everyone,” he replied, a slight weariness in his eyes.

Eloise had seen that same weariness in the eyes of almost every witch or wizard she encountered. She also assumed the same look stared back at Azariah from her own eyes.

“I’ve resigned as an Unspeakable. I have no idea what I’m going to do next, but I won’t be a pawn doing the dirty work for others. I think it appealed to me because I could direct my anger towards my dad at bad people and call myself a hero for it.”

No response came from Azariah and a few seconds passed in silence before Eloise spoke again.

“Sorry, I know our usual means of conversation is punching each other in the face,” she chuckled.

“Nah, you don’t need to apologize. I’m proud of you, Lou.”

The words hit her with such a shock that her eyes started to burn and she quickly wiped tears away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Shut up,” Eloise murmured preemptively, cutting him off as his mouth opened to say something.

“I didn’t say anything!” he protested with a laugh as Eloise playfully drilled him in the shoulder.

“You know, you are always welcome to join me as a Hit Wizard or even an Auror. It would be fun being your boss.”

“Is that so? I’ll think about it. I’ve also debated setting up a potion shop. Two of them burned down in the war, so I won’t have much competition,” Eloise joked grimly.

“Any plans for tonight?” Azariah probed.

“Sorry, I can’t come to karaoke night,” Eloise teased with a knowing smile, “I’m having dinner with the McClarnon family. Graham invited me. But I’ll beat your ass next week, I promise.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“There’s one more thing I have to do. I’ll see you around, Rye,” Eloise said with a fist bump before turning back towards the busy London street.

“Give the world hell, Lou!” Azariah called loudly after her as she disappeared into the crowd of people on the sidewalk.

Winbourne Manor, Leeds, England - May 20th, 1998, 3:05 PM

Eloise stood on the street, staring up at the large Manor and grounds in front of her, many times bigger than the one that now belonged to her. She tugged her skirt down and tucked stray hairs behind her ear and then started up the long pathway to the front door. As she knocked, the loud thumps echoed off into the quiet afternoon.

Not long after, the door opened revealing a young woman the same age as herself with dark raven hair.

“Uh, Camille Yaxley? I mean, Lady Yaxley?” Eloise corrected herself, “I’m Eloise Yaxley. We went to Hogwarts together.”

“Yes, I remember you. You’re Corban’s daughter, aren’t you?” Camille replied curiously.

“I am. Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to come in person. My father did terrible things and I’m trying to fix my reputation. I don’t want the Yaxley name to be tarnished by his beliefs and actions. I know the rest of the family didn’t feel the same, which is why he was estranged and forbade me to even talk to you. But he’s gone now so I was wondering if we could reconnect? You’re the only family I have left,” Eloise rambled, not used to having honest and genuine words spill from her mouth.

Camille studied Eloise for a few seconds before smiling warmly. “I’d love that. Why don't you come inside? We can have tea.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #eloise yaxley #azariah steele #camille yaxley #tpr #the phoenix resistance #harry potter hogwarts mystery

[brakingpoint]

18, 22

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene. i want you all to know that i fully intend on doing a free for all director's commentary session after i'm done with rep lol bc i love talking about this fic SO much. but i'm really proud of this passage from chapter 11 in particular:

The week continues to spiral along the same relentless trajectory. They visit the market on Tuesday more for the atmosphere than anything else seeing as they have nowhere to cook at the hotel, and Aiden catches Devon checking his phone one too many times beside a fruit stall and takes his hand, manually guiding it back into his own pocket.

“Just keep the ringer on,” he says, seemingly unaware of how close his hand is skirting to Devon’s crotch. Devon begs his body not to respond accordingly. “They’ll call you. You’ll know when they do. But you’re on holiday, okay? Stop worrying about it.”

i really wanted to keep making references to devon keeping the ringer on his phone bc it's so pivotal in the next chapter but i also wanted the reader to be blindsided by the twist. so it was a very delicate balancing act of putting the chekhov's ringtone work in there while not making it too obvious that this would come back to bite them. i hope i managed this by putting most of the attention on devon trying so so hard not to get a boner

At the same time they both spot someone staring, phone camera trained on the two of them, and Aiden dutifully leans forward and gives Devon a sweet, chaste peck on the lips.

all through the fic there's this conflict from aiden where he is the most enthusiastic to go along with the PR aspect of the relatonship but thinking it's all a PR thing is what drives him to break up with devon. let's be honest it's because he knows he's helping devon out of love but he has absolutely no clue that those feelings are reciprocated

That night, they fall asleep separately, and Devon wakes up in the middle of the night with his head on Aiden’s chest and Aiden’s hands weaving slow, careful patterns through his hair.

He slips out of bed, panicked, and Aiden, half asleep, does not stir.

i'll be honest i'm not sure how aiden can be half asleep and also not stir but i've posted the chapter now. whoops

Devon makes his way out onto the terrace and watches the sea glistening ink-black before him, the tiniest waves lapping towards the shoreline and echoing the sudden sensation that he’s being pulled, one tiny repeated motion at a time, towards something dark and hopelessly inevitable.

He wonders, as he turns and crawls back into bed, if this is how it would feel to drive a race you know would kill you, watching the lap count tick down and knowing, every time you skim past the same barrier, that one of these times it will catch you in your tracks, crushing your organs together and forcing the air from your lungs in one final, strangled cry.

you might notice that i use a lot of racing and especially crash metaphors in this fic. they're all over the place. part of that was absolutely unapologetic foreshadowing for chapter 13 (in all honesty i wish i'd tied it together with this paragraph a little more strongly by really honing in on t14 as a point of focus for devon during the race!) but a big part of it is also that extremely specific metaphors are a quintessential feature of my writing style and when i'm writing third person limited pov i like to shape them around the narrator's own worldview/frame of knowledge; devon has been living and breathing racing since he was teeny tiny so it makes sense that this would be his first point of comparison for any especially strong emotions.

one part where i deviate from this and use my own lived experience is the stage kissing metaphor in chapter 5. imogen is a drama student almost entirely to give devon a reason to have that idea in his head because i was so desperate to use it.

On Wednesday, they visit the butterfly museum.

100% one of the most deliberately pretentious and Author-y things i have ever written. the stark contrast between the run on sentence of the previous paragraph and the brevity of this one. the triple meaning of the mundanity of their activity vs how apparently twee it is in comparison to devon's spiralling thoughts vs the persistent morbid undercurrent bc they are still spending their time looking at thousands of dead specimens of these beautiful, fragile, ephemeral creatures. when i wrote this paragraph i was right back in my gcse english class trying to nail every one of my assessment criteria. 22. Have you cried while writing a fic? i've not cried while writing but i'll tell you i had a really close call like two days after publishing chapter 12 when i went to work and perfect strangers came on the shop radio

[impossiblelibrary]

"Masking is a sensible survival strategy when you have no other tools at your disposal. But the more you deviate from what society values, the more elaborate your masking must be. Hiding your Autism, your cultural Blackness, and your queerness or womanhood can be too much. Sometimes the only viable alternative is to shut down and become deeply inhibited. You can't offend anyone if you simply melt into the wallpaper."

-- Devon Price, Unmasking Autism

#booklr #amreading #book quotes

[bortbytingen]

I'm currently reading "Unmasking Autism" by Dr. Devon Price. The book is great and has a few exercises in it. One is "Values-Based Integration Process" and its "Step 1: Find Your Why". In this exercise you should think of five moments in your life where you felt fully alive (preferably trying to find moments throughout your life). The book describes examples to how these moments could've made you feel. I've been thinking for days (actually it's more since this exercise is in the beginning of the book and then you come back to it later on) and I can't think of a single moment like that. Nothing. Wtf is even feeling fully alive? Yes, I know the examples, like awe, amazement, recharged etc, but I honestly can't think of any moment like that.

It doesn't help that my memories are very patchy. I don't remember much of my childhood or teenage years. If someone asks for my best memories growing up, I wouldn't know what to tell. I know there were good moments and I do have memories, but unlike most autistic people I have met, my memories of my life is patchy, blurry and very much lacking. I also struggle with knowing which memories were my childhood and which ones where like the last few years. All my memories are like a soup, definitely not in a chronological timeline.

I've tried to think of memories in my happiness category, but even there nothing could qualify as feeling fully alive. My happiness is usually extremely brief and not really there. More like a spark and then it's gone.

This is something I've struggled with before in exercises and therapies and something only like two people have ever believed me when telling and right now I'm a bit like "I'm a deviation within a deviation/diversity, great..." (the great, is sarcasm, btw).

Guess I'm just going to skip the "Rediscovering Your Values" part of the book.

#personal #rambling #unmasking autism

[jwood718]

“If parental rights were the only concern--consistently--y’know, whatever parents believe, whether it’s--regardless of issue, you would say that the same applies if--if your child--you’re one religion and your child is giving hints that he might be converting from Catholicism to being a Protestant--or reverse!--or you’re a Republican family and this kid--this kid is talking about maybe being the “D word”--a Democrat, or vice-versa--I mean these all would run afoul of some notion of a family construct that these parents have created--are there surveillance agents in schools now that are supposed to sense anything that’s a deviation in that age group from the parental wish list and report immediately?  I mean..this is an issue that we’ve identified, but...why not religion?  Why not politics?  Why not anything else, y’know--you wanted to raise a kid who’s involved in sports, and this kid...he say’s he’d rather read a book--a novel--you should do something.  I mean, where does it stop?”

Jon Schwantes speaking on the possibly unlimited consequences of laws that purport to reinforce parental rights.

One of Indiana’s new bills proffers a law that would prohibit teachers from discussing sex or sexuality up to the 3rd grade, and would require families be informed by the school if a student requests to be referred to by a different name or by a gender that differs from the one assigned at birth.  An amendment would allow teachers to respond about such topics if asked by a student.

Teachers decry the uncertain or indeed hostile environment this, and other proposed laws, would create in schools--both for the students who would be unsure of how to act and the teachers who would be afraid of running afoul of some vaguely, or broadly, or contradictory, or what-ever-ly worded legislation.

Mr. Schwantes was speaking on WFYI’s Indiana Week In Review, a round table discussion concerning various topics--such as what’s happened lately in the state house--from perspectives left, right, and news correspondent.  

The broadcast of February 24th was especially lively and worth a listen.  The panel discussed the bill noted above, a bill to make gender affirming care illegal (such as banning surgeries that aren’t happening anyway), and a bill for a law that would prevent courts from removing children from their homes if the parent is denying gender affirming physical or mental health care from a trans gender child, even if denying that care effectively puts the child’s life in jeopardy at the hands of the parents.

Indiana Week In Review episode for Feb 24.

Concerning the law on trans kids and courts via WBAA, by Brandon Smith for IPB News (February 22 and flagrantly lifted in its entirety):

“House Republicans voted for a bill Wednesday that would stop Indiana courts from intervening when a transgender child is at risk of suicide.  Under current law, if a child is a serious risk to themselves or others and won’t get the care they need from their parent or guardian, a court can remove the child from their home.

Under Rep. Dale DeVon’s (R-Granger) bill, HB1407, the court could no longer do that if the parent or guardian is denying gender-affirming physical or mental health care for their transgender child.

‘The biggest issue is protecting the parents,’ DeVon said.

Rep. Wendy McNamara (R-Evansville) is one of a few Republicans who voted against the bill. She said she’s fine with protecting parents' rights when there’s disagreement over their child being transgender. But she said the measure goes far beyond that.

‘It might put jeopardy hundreds of other kids in our system,’ McNamara said.

The bill's origin is a [single] court case currently being considered by the Indiana Supreme Court.  The court record shows that the Department of Child Services [DCS] responded to multiple reports that a mother was emotionally and mentally abusing her child because the child is transgender. [emphasis added]

The mother had taken the child out of school and discontinued therapy for them. The child did not feel safe in the home and DCS found that the risk of suicide or self-harm was more likely if the child were returned to the mother's care.  The court also took the child out of their parents' custody because they had developed an eating disorder that DCS believed would continue if sent back home.

DCS reported that the mother called her child ‘the bitch that killed my son.’ DeVon described her as a ‘strong Catholic woman’ and ‘loving mother’ whose child was, in his view, unjustly taken from her.

The House approved the bill 58 to 33, sending it to the Senate.”

#trans rights #trans rights in school #parental rights? #WFYI #Indiana Week In Review

[jimlingss]

Moirai [4]

Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

➜ Words: 7k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

“Not bad.”   The old woman twirls her the point of her quill all over your parchment, giving check marks with the flick of her wrist while you hold in your sigh. Of course, it’s not bad. You’re probably as old as she is if you count your other life. You might be in the body of a seventeen year old, but you’re smarter than one. Probably.   “Fix your posture,” she barks a beat later without sparing a glance and your spine straightens on instinct. “It seems like you can move onto the next volume of philosophy social theory.”   “What? Uh, I mean, pardon? I thought I was finished, Lady Devon.”   “Learning is never finished. The faster you learn that, the better Queen you will make for the empire someday.” The Viscountess, the one assigned to oversee your princess training, shuts the textbook. “But we will move on next time. It’s time for your dance lessons.”   You hold in your groan.   On your sixteenth birthday, instead of being gifted diamonds or laced dresses from the best seamstress like any child of a duke would receive, you were shipped off to the royal palace.   It was the worst present ever. And you once got soap in your other life.   Ever since, you’ve been officially considered the Prince’s fiancée. Not much different from how the game was set up when the main character enters the stage. So you’ve long given up on trying to avoid this, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy about it.   You might be free from your parents. But unlike the Devereux estate, proving your worth only gives you more to do. None of your tutors or mentors are ever satisfied with your performance. If you show your capability, then they push you further and further to see your limits. You can’t run away or swing your sword either — the tolerance in the castle is at zero.    “Excuse me.” Lady Devon gets up from her chair and walks to the door with a grace that only fifty years in high society can bring you. “The dance tutor should be down the hall and coming shortly.”   You hum and cordially smile. “Please, take your time.”   Her wrinkled eyes pin on you until the door shuts. Only then do you breathe a big sigh, tension released in your body and your back slouching into the chair again. But you don’t waste much time getting comfortable.   Instead, you jump to your feet and rush underneath your bed.    In a spooled pile in the dusty back is a make-shift rope you tied from spare clothes. It took three nights to rip and weave together, but it was a surprisingly fun activity when you envisioned this moment — knotting the end around your balcony railing and throwing it overboard.    As strict as the castle is, that doesn’t mean you’ll give in so easily.    Even you deserve a break once in a while.   An older man in a frilly jacket enters the room. His eyes dart around before they land on you out the balcony doors, standing at the other side of the marble railing.    His jaw drops. Brows raise. “My lady—!”   Oh shit. It’s now or never. With your eyes shut tight, you jump.   Your dance instructor’s shout echoes through the palace and you peel your lids open when the impact of the landing doesn’t come. When your feet don't touch the ground. It’s then and there that you realize that you’re dangling midair, the clothing rope in your grasps.   You didn’t make it long enough!   Oh fuck! Fuck!   The cloth rope starts to slip from your grip, between your fingertips and you brace yourself. It’s just the second floor of the castle. You’ll survive if you fall, right? Right?!   Your teeth grit and your scream is soundless as you let go.   But instead of slamming into the ground, you tumble on top of something much softer yet still firm. Something that lets out a pained groan, that’s quite warm.   You bolt upwards and your eyes double as you realize that something is someone. By sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you’ve fallen on top of a dark-haired man and pinned him onto the ground.    “S-Sorry! I’m so sorry! My deepest apologies.”   You bow your head and slide off of him as he sits up while gripping the back of his head.   The two of you look at one another, eyes meeting—   The moment is interrupted by a shout. “Lady Anastasia!” The sprinting stomps crescendos in volume, coming closer and closer and you start to panic, not sure where to go, where to hide.   But then the person in front of you reaches out, grabbing a hold of your forearm.   You frown in confusion, about to shake him off until you find your fingertips becoming translucent. The palace guards slow down right where you’re sitting on the ground, yet their pupils move past you as if you were part of the stone wall.    “The Crown Princess must be this way!”   The parade of guards sprint past.   The man lets go, undoing his invisibility spell.   “You…” You fall back. “....ended up learning magic?”   The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls. “So you do remember me.”   “O-Of course, I do.” How could you not? There’s been only two encounters with him in the past seventeen years, but even before your first meeting, you’ve already had his name imprinted in your mind. For reasons that are perhaps not positive ones. But he looks different now — different from how he was at ten.    You suppose seven years would do that to a person.    Taehyung is dressed in a white blouse, darkened trousers and a navy cape embedded with gold around his broad shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was the prince. A height that towers your own. Cheeks that are no longer plump but chiselled with his sharper jawline. Eyes that aren’t impoverished. He is less like the pitiful boy than you remember him.   You try not to stare for too long, but by the smirk on his face, you know it’s too late.   You get up and dust your blue gown off.   “Do you need a place to hide?” he asks with a small smile, catching on quick as the guards’ shouts fade. “If you are, I know just the place.”   You cross your arms and look up at him. “Lead the way then.”   Taehyung grins, brown irises lighting up and his lips tugging into a boxy smile that catches you off guard. But he swiftly turns on his heels and you’re left trailing behind him.   The castle grounds stretch across the horizon. If someone didn’t know their way, they could get lost forever and potentially starve to death. You know Taehyung’s been largely confined to the Western towers while you’ve been managed closely in the Eastern wing. It was pure coincidence that he happened to go this way and you happened to try to escape at the exact same time.   A coincidence that you left your paths and crossed, a coincidence that you landed right on top of him.   It’s definitely not a part of the original story.   You wonder if you should deviate from the storyline so much. The first time Anastasia and Taehyung are supposed to meet is weeks from now after he lures her in and tries to convince her that she needs his help to keep Prince Jungkook around.   Taehyung most certainly did not bring Anastasia to a quiet corner of the garden, far from the stone walls, a private place that’s shrouded in trees with a welcoming white bench.    “I come here often to read,” he murmurs as he gazes up at the canopy of the tree providing shade, listening to the leaves rustle. “It reminds me of someone special.”   You know that person is his mother.   Taehyung gestures to the bench and the two of you sit next to one another, looking out at the beds of pansies, orchids and marigolds.   “How have you been?” you pipe up, curiosity nibbling at your skin.   You haven’t seen him in so long. You can’t help but wonder if he’s in the same mindset as the Taehyung you know from the game — pained, lonely, blood thirsty.    But you aren’t scared of him or what he might do. You feel hurt for him.   Taehyung smiles to himself as if he knows what you’re thinking. “I’m fine. Frankly, I’m much more interested in your situation and why you would jump out a window and have the whole castle looking for you.”   You sigh, not sure where to start. Maybe the beginning.   “Actually...I’m the Crown Prince’s fiancée.” The words are muttered out of your lungs, uncomfortable on your tongue. But when you peek at Taehyung, he simply smiles, seemingly not surprised. So you inhale a breath and allow yourself to slouch. “I’m going under what they call ‘rigorous princess training’. But it’s really awful.”   He grins. “Is it?”   “They never give me a break,” you whine. “I’m supposed to go to dance class, but I know I’m going to step on their feet so what’s the point?”   As you turn your head to look at him, you realize the game animation and drawings really didn’t do him any justice. Taehyung’s shaped up to be a handsome man.   You clear your throat. “Since when did you learn magic?”   “A long time ago. It’s nothing special.” He glances at you. “Although, I never had it blown up in my face yet.”   His words tickle a memory in the back of your mind — the night at the Solar Festival.   He smiles as your eyes connect. Taehyung gazes tenderly at you as if your irises are the most interesting kaleidoscopes, like he’s searching for something deep within your soul. Your breath hitches, heart pounding within your ears and you quickly turn away, wondering what this weird tension is.   Or shit — maybe this is the beginning of the co-conspiracy that will lead you to your doom.   Instantly, you stand on your feet and grab the skirt of your gown. “It was nice seeing you again, Prince Taehyung.” You bow your head and muster a polite smile. “I should get back before I get into any more trouble. I appreciate the help you have offered me today.”   You spin around, prepared to strut off. But then your arm is held back.   Gently. By Taehyung’s grip.   You turn to look at him.    “When’s the next time I’ll be able to see you?”   You frown in bewilderment. It takes a delayed moment for an answer to come out of your throat. “Will you be going to the debutante ball?”   The corner of his mouth turns and he bows. “I will be now.”   He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles before you slip away and weave out of the gardens. For some reason you’re left with a strange feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach.   //   There’s a scolding of your lifetime waiting for you when you return and you muse that you finally found someone worse than Edith and your own mother. The tutors are even more brutal with their discipline and you know there’s only one person who can help you, one person you can escape to readily.   “My lady,” a young girl speaks up and you stop right in front of the door. “Lady Devon said you were supposed to be studying embroidery for the rest of the da—”   “Am I not allowed to visit my own fiancé?” Your timbre holds firm and you look down at the flinching girl. God, it’s just too easy to play into the villainous role that was set up for you sometimes. “And who are you to tell me what to do? I think you’ve forgotten your place!”   “My apologies!”   You scoff and your knuckles rap against the surface. There’s a muffled ‘come in’ and you throw open both doors.   Jungkook is sitting on the sofa in front of his desk with papers in hand. He looks up expressionlessly as you strut inside. “Anastasia. What brings you here?”   “I have matters to discuss, Prince Jungkook.”   “Very well.” He looks to the attendants at the doorway. “Please bring in refreshments.”   They bow their heads and within the next minute, a pot of tea with two cups and several tiered cake stands full of pastries and tarts are set down. The doors shut shortly after and you count.   One. Two. Three.    The coast is clear and you immediately flop on to the sofa across from Jungkook’s, kicking off your shoes and slumping with horrible posture into the soft furniture. Jungkook, likewise, throws down the papers in hand with a grin.   “You should’ve come sooner,” he complains. “I was getting tired of reading reports and letters from advisors.”   “Yeah, well, I was busy.”    You lurch forward to grab a sweet fruit tart and stuff your face. Jungkook might laugh while watching you, but no one gives desserts to you in this place. Not like they did in the Devereux estate either, but at least they didn’t watch closely at every single thing you chewed.   You don’t care if you can’t fit into those tight dresses.   Jungkook pierces a strawberry on top of the cake and chews in his cheek. “I heard you ran out on princess training again.”   “Hey. The last time I did that was months ago. Plus, you’re not the one to speak. You’re the lucky one here. Why do you get to do whatever you want and I can’t?! It’s so unfair!”   “That’s because two days after you came, you dueled me and won. What kind of Crown Princess wins in a sword fight over the Crown Prince?”   You burst out laughing. No one really expected you would win. They were already horrified when you held the sword. You suppose they’re just trying to get rid of those rumours and make you into a dignified, soft-spoken, honourable lady that will win over the public with her gentleness.   Yeah right. Like that’s gonna ever happen.    “You should’ve just been better. You’re the Crown Prince.”   “Yeah, yeah, yeah, and it’s because of you that I had to go under more training with the royal knights until it felt like my bones were going to fall off,” he mutters and you snort.    The two of you devour the table like children starved on sweets and once you’re full, you lay down on the sofa as if you’re a stuffed pig ready to be roasted in an oven. Jungkook smacks his lips together and eats the last strawberry.   “Are you at least ready for the debutante ball?”   “It’s just dancing.” You turn to look at him. “What’s there to prepare for?”   The ball happens every other year for the girls in the empire as a coming of age ceremony. It’s a celebration that everyone looks forward to. But for you, this year, it signifies the beginning.   “You better not step on my toes,” Jungkook warns.   You scoff. “You better not step on mine or else I’ll throw a ladybug at you.”   “That was one time!” he yells and you laugh.   You gaze at the ornate, painted ceiling of the study.    Jungkook doesn’t know that the debutante ball is the start of everything. It marks you turning eighteen. It’s where the game begins and where he’ll meet the heroine. It’s where the gears will set in motion.   You’ve long given up on trying to run away from the storyline. Perhaps it was when you came to regret being unable to prevent Taehyung’s mother’s death. Maybe it was when you turned around at the Solar Festival and decided to sit by him. But whatever the case, you decided to stay and fight, to find a way to survive instead of escaping. It still startles you when changes are made that are so different from the original game, when it deviates far out of your reach and control.   But one of the biggest changes and probably the best is your relationship with Jungkook.   Unlike Anastasia’s, you and him are not just polite on the surface. There isn’t a wide distance. You don’t yearn for him. He doesn’t disregard you. Rather, you’re friends.   And you hope that fact doesn’t change. That he never becomes an enemy.   From here on out, all the efforts you’ve put forth for the past seventeen years will finally come to fruition and show its effects.   You hope you tried hard enough.

The dress is a deep wine red.   The layered tulle skirt poofs out in the shape of a bell, spilling from your waist. You turn around in front of the mirror while picking at your translucent sleeves, noticing that the fabric sways with each of your movements. Your hair is in a half-updo with flowers, pinned up as curls drop over your left shoulder. It’s better than what Joan could’ve ever done back at the estate. But altogether, it’s a magnificent yet imposing look.   You gotta admit, in this get up, you feel like you could cackle and step on the main character’s hand with your pointed heel as she cowers in front of you. Being the villainess is the easy way.   “My lady…” the younger servant steps back with the tape measure.   You nod at her. “It’s acceptable. There’s no time to dwell either way. The Prince’s fiancée shouldn’t show up late.”   “Of course!”   The entourage of servants follow as you stride down the castle halls. The muffled violins become clearer the closer you get to the main ballroom and there at the doors, Jungkook’s already standing there with a cordial smile. He wears a navy jacket with golden buttons, trousers to pair and white gloves that matches the sash over his body with the royal emblem.   The maids bow their heads, taking their place at the sidelines and Jungkook offers you his arm which you take. The pair of you stand in front of the doors.   “You actually look decent for once,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth.   You scoff quietly. “I’ve always been this beautiful.”   “You always look like you’ve just rolled in mud or hay.”   “And you’re beginning to sound like Lady Devon.”   Jungkook snickers as you jab him discreetly in the ribs. At the same time, the squire finally makes his announcement — “His Royal Highness and Lady Anastasia!” — and the doors open.   Your expressions wipe over with only the corners of your mouths pulled and you enter together.   You make sure your back is straight. That your head is raised. Chin out. Steps light. Every scrutiny and detail about perfect posture is displayed right into your body language and the pair of you stop momentarily at the stairs with your plastered smiles.    Everyone watches as you both descend the stairs.   It’s quiet — some older women awed behind their feathered fans, men sipping their glasses of bubbling champagne. But their gazes are loud as Jungkook guides you to the middle of the cleared floor.   Nearly eighteen years of lessons have led up to this moment.   Jungkook kisses your knuckles and you slip into position — right hand in his, your left on his shoulder as he mimics you. The mellifluous violins in the corner start to crescendo and you follow Jungkook’s lead, stepping from side to side, back to front.   “Looks like you’re not stepping on my feet,” Jungkook murmurs as the two of you begin to take bolder steps and sweep across the ballroom floor.   “I might’ve skipped dance every chance I got but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do it.”   “Touché. Just keep smiling.”   “I am.”   “You look too concentrated.”   With his criticism, you fix the furrow of your brows and your smile tries to widen. It feels a bit stiff and psychotic, like you’re forcing yourself to pretend you’re Rose from Titanic who went with Jack to dance when in reality, this is as fun as watching paint dry. “Better?”   Jungkook grins. “Sure.”   The music continues as you dance, but while you maintain your bright expression, your eyes flicker through the thick crowd. You spot the King who sits in a grand chair at the back. He nods along with an approving expression and your parents are standing by him too. Your dad seems to be getting a comment in every other minute while your mother appears wholly satisfied.    You’re happy at least someone’s enjoying this debutante ball.   But you don’t look at them for long, not when you’re focused on searching for a girl you have yet to see in the flesh. The main character. The heroine of the game. You know she’s in the room tonight.    You know she’s watching right now.   Yet, as your eyes travel through the surroundings, instead of trying to find the girl, your mind strays for someone else — Taehyung. He said he would be here tonight. But you don’t see him…   “Anna, it’s over,” Jungkook mumbles and you snap back to attention, giving a curtsy.   The Prince bows as well and the music continues to a jovial tune. The people around start to enter the floor, dancing with their partners and from your peripheral vision, the King approaches.   He’s gotten old since the first time you met him. Each strand of his hair has turned gray, wrinkles deepened and eyes slightly protruding. Yet the man is still dignified and the righteous King of the empire with his commanding, aristocratic presence. But you wonder if he aged so quickly because of the Queen’s sudden death years ago, an event you know shook the Royal family.   “Your Majesty.” You curtsy again, pulling the edges of your dress.   Jungkook smiles. “Father.”   “Very well done job, you two.” He smiles. “I’m confident that the pair of you will lead this empire well.”   “Thank you, Your Majesty.” You smile cordially at the older man. “You’re too kind with your words. I can only hope that one day we shall live up to your legacy.”   He laughs merrily from the pit of his stomach and even though you and Jungkook both know you’re laying it on thick, there’s no harm done. “Spectacularly spoken. I’m sure you will.” The King turns to his son. “I heard you were managing the finances in the Southern provinces well.”   “I was actually going to seek council on that issue,” he exhales and in the meanwhile, you notice a few potential ladies-in-waiting looking at you. You try to ignore them, but their stares are too pointed. They’re outright gawking at you and you grit your teeth, knowing there’s no other choice.   “If you’ll excuse me.” You dip down and the King nods.    As Jungkook continues talking to the King, the both of them striding to his throne, you’re trapped in small talk.   “I believe we’ve met once before. I am Countess Ashburnum.” — “I am Lady Herington, my husband is Baron of Herington.” — “Oh my! You absolutely look beautiful in your gown.” — “I know a seamstress who makes the best lace dresses in all of Ashea!”   The conversation drones on and on with the circle of women and you make short replies while maintaining a friendly smile.   It’s only when your eyes boredly wander off do you notice a girl eating at the refreshments table.   She’s out of place. You can tell with how her eyes dart around the hordes of people and she fidgets alone, dressed in a yellow dress that looks like it’s been sewn from sunflower petals but worn at the hem as if it’s someone else’s. But as unremarkable as her presence is, her features are soft — eyes rounded, lips pouty and cheeks full.   You’re beginning to understand how someone can be described as lovely as a rose.   “If you’ll excuse me, there’s some few other people I need to meet.”   “By all means.” The ladies dip down and you nod your head, beelining through the people to the refreshments table. But it’s hard to get through with the amount of people that want to stop and greet you.   You watch the girl in the meanwhile.   You don’t blame her for appearing so awkward, like she’s not sure where to go or who to talk to or what to do. If this is who you think it is, then she’s just a baron’s adopted daughter. She hasn’t been to many social events. She hasn’t been exposed to high society. And it’ll be a world that’ll be difficult to adjust to.   You remember in the original game, Jungkook just chose her because she looked out of place and he wanted to get away from dancing with you. But considering your relationship with Jungkook isn’t sour in any aspect, a catalyst might be needed to continue the plot.   If you start the encounter, then perhaps you’ll have control over it.   “The desserts are delicious, aren’t they?” you pipe up beside her, stuffing your cheek as you look out at the crowd.   The girl is taken aback at someone initiating a conversation and her excitement is practically tangible. “Yes, they are! I like the strawberry cream one.”   “Ah. I’m more of a fan of the fruit tarts.” You turn and meet her eyes with a smile. “What’s your name?”   “My name is Lucienne, but my family calls me Lucy.”   “Your family?”   “The Helena family. My father is Baron of Liza,” she says and that’s enough to confirm it. This is her. The heroine. The main character. The one who will take your place, become the Crown Princess and be with Jungkook. And if such a thing is inevitable, then you can make her perception of you different from how it was in the original game. Just like you did with Jungkook.   “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then.” You curtsy and she does as well after a delayed moment. “My name is Anastasia Loretta Devereux.”   Her eyes widen. “You’re the Crown Princess! Oh my goodness, I just watched you dance! It was amazing.”   You smile and this time, it's more genuine. The heroine’s personality traits are dependent on the player, but it looks like in this world, she’s pretty excitable, extroverted and innocent. If you weren’t so secretly tense, you’d muse that you might actually make a good friend tonight.    “Thank you and thank you for coming. I hope you’re enjoying the ball.”   “Yes, I am, your grace— I mean, my lady.”   “Please, you don’t need to be so formal with me in private,” you tell her even though she insists otherwise. The conversation starts to slow and you scramble for ways to continue it. How did you use to get girls to like you back in school? What the hell did you use to do again?    The answer comes a second later— “I love your dress.”   Lucy’s eyes light up and she looks down. “Really? I actually sewed it myself.”   That revelation has your eyes turning into saucers and your sociable facade falls. “What?”   “It’s not much,” she giggles. “The servants were taking down some dusty curtains back at home to replace them, but I thought it was such a waste, so I washed it and hand sewed it myself. I was afraid it would look shabby for tonight’s ball.”   “N-No, it’s amazing!” She looks like she’s straight out of a fairy tale. She is straight out of a fairy tale! Even Snow fucking White would feel outdone. “You have some real talent.”   You wonder if the girl sings to squirrels in her spare time. You wouldn’t put it past her.   She beams. “Thank you.”   The violins seem to dial down into a waltz piece and several more people enter the floor with their partners in hand. You turn to Lucy with a smile. “You should dance.”   “Oh, well, I’m not much of a dancer.” She brushes a strand of her hair loose from her bun behind her ear. “And I wouldn’t know who to dance with either…”   You hum and at the exact same time, someone with doe eyes unsuspectedly passes by. You steal the opportunity when it’s handed to you— “Jungkook!”   The Prince turns at the familiar call of his name, one without any title to it. His brow is quirked and you take Lucy’s hands, pulling her along with you as she remains stunned. This is it. This is the first meeting.   For you, it’s like you’ve dragged your best friend down the school hallway to talk to her crush. But for them, you wonder if it’s a life-changing moment. One of the ones where time seems to stop and fireworks are bursting in the air and their breaths hitch and their hearts sycroniz—….   Probably not by the confused look on their faces.   But you’ll take it!   “Prince Jungkook, meet Lucienne. She’s Baron of Liza’s daughter and she goes by Lucy.” You turn, hand gesturing out towards him. “Lucy, meet Prince Jungkook.”   “N-Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” She curtsies and you can feel her nervousness by the way her hand shakes in yours.   “Likewise.” Your fiancé turns to you with a skeptical brow raised. “Seems like you’ve made a friend tonight.”   You plaster on a big smile. “I know right.” He and you both know you don’t like to play nice and hence, don’t have friends at all. So it’s an oddity for you to bring around someone you met five minutes ago. But you don’t let Jungkook ask too many questions. “You should dance with her.”   “Pardon?”   “Why not?” You push the girl towards him and she nearly stumbles into his frame. “Ball’s are all about dancing and Lucy here’s looking for a partner and I know you have to get that practice in!”   By the narrowing of his eyes, you can tell Jungkook’s suspicions of your intentions or what could possibly be up your sleeve. You wish he was as dumb as he was seven years ago. “Anastasia.”   “Umm...I really don’t have to, Your Highness.” Lucy bows her head, placed in an awkward position and you internally apologize to her, but you gotta do what you gotta do.   “Come on,” you continue to pressure Jungkook. “You’re not going to leave her hanging, right?”   Jungkook exhales out of his nose and he looks like he’s not going to let this go so easily, but for now, he relents. He bows slightly and takes Lucy’s hand. “Will you have this dance, Lady Lucienne?”   “Yes…?”   Okay. It’s not a storybook, fairy tale moment or anything like the game, but this is as good as it’s going to get. This way, your engagement with Jungkook can smoothly end, Lucy will take your place and you���ll be able to survive in peace while supporting them like a secondary character instead of the villainess.   With your arms folded, you stand at the sidelines and watch them dance together.   It’s stiff at first, but soon, Jungkook’s murmuring something to her and she’s laughing.   They look like the picture perfect couple. Even others are nudging each other and watching the pair. A smile tugs on your features, but your observation as an audience member soon is interrupted.   “Would you like to dance, my lady?”   It’s a husky timbre, one that startles your senses and has your head whirling around.   You didn’t know you were waiting for him until he appeared, until a feeling of ease that you didn’t know existed washes over you. Taehyung has his arm extended, a tender smile on his face. His dark brunette hair is combed to the side and he’s dressed in a black jacket with a navy cape draped on his left shoulder, not any less handsome than the others in the room.   The corner of your mouth curls. “If you don’t mind me stepping on your toes.”   Your hand slides into his palm and he grasps your fingers. “I don’t.”   If Jungkook and Lucy had eyes straying then you and Taehyung have eyes turning — most don’t know who he is when he’s never shown up to any social engagements, but few do and while they’re shocked, already whispering tales of scandal, you don’t notice.   You’re far too mesmerized by him. By the fact that he’s here, that he’s looking into your eyes, guiding you along the ornate ballroom floor. The skirt of your dress sways as he twirls you carefully, the two of you synchronized to the rest of the dancing crowd.   “I didn’t think you would show up,” you murmur once you’ve landed back into his arms again.   “Were you waiting for me?”   “I decline to answer.”   The corner of Taehyung’s mouth tickles into a smile. “Well, looks like it was a good thing you skipped out on that dance lesson since you obviously didn’t need it.”   You grin, scoffing lightly. “That’s because you’re a good lead.”   “You’re a good partner,” he replies as the music diminuendos. You wonder since when the pitiful boy you knew became so sly and mischievous. Or maybe he was always this way and his mother’s passing simply made him quiet. “And of course I would come if you were here.”   Your brow lifts. “And why is that?”   Taehyung hums. “Let’s just say, I’ve been meaning to get a chance to speak to you for a long time now.”   You wonder what he means. If he’s simply planning to build rapport to conspire with you. But your relationship with the royal family and Jungkook is known to everyone as being decent. The Taehyung in the game also never went out of his way to meet Anastasia either.   It was always her. Anastasia’s choices led to her being used as his pawn.   Taehyung breaks your train of thought as he leans in close to your ear, “I’m always scared of getting you into trouble, but you can’t when everyone’s here. We can chalk it up to a coincidence that we met and danced, right?”   “That’s the bastard’s son, isn’t it?”   Your ears suddenly tune into the murmurs, words hidden behind gloved hands and feathered fans.   If people didn’t know Taehyung before, word was spreading like wildfire. “The one who was born from that maid.”   “You mean the King’s first son?”   Your head turns when there’s a heavy set of eyes placed upon your form and you realize the King is sitting on his throne, expressionless. He’s staring at Taehyung who hasn’t noticed, or maybe has and yet chose to ignore.   Taehyung’s right.    A ball like this is truly the exception. The only time you and Taehyung would ever be able to meet in public.   His eyes meet yours once more and you realize the reason Taehyung never sought you out. He never looked for you because he was afraid of what that would mean for you.   How the slander and hatred of his name would attach to yours.    The dance ends as the turmoil inside of you overboils. Your mouth parts to speak, but Jungkook approaches and interrupts. “Taehyung?”   The younger brother has his eyes wide and the older smiles. “Good evening, Your Highness.”   Jungkook laughs. “What’s with that? Actually, no, what are you doing here? You never come to these things!”   Maybe because he’s not allowed to.    You haven’t seen the half-brothers interact before. But you wonder how much Jungkook really knows about Taehyung — probably not a lot based on what you know in the original storyline.   The two brothers had to fight each other to the death in a civil war.   Jungkook came out victorious.    And knowing that future makes you feel queasy as you look at the both of them being friendly together.   “I just thought it was time to change that.”   “You should’ve appreciated not having to go for longer. These things can be so boring. You’re honestly the lucky one,” Jungkook says.   Taehyung’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Am I?”   “I wish I was in your shoes sometimes,” Jungkook sighs and turns to you. “Anna. Anna? Anastasia!” You’re startled, brought out of your trance and Jungkook grins. “I was going to ask you how the dance was.”   You loll your head to your shoulder. “Taehyung’s a better lead.”   Jungkook’s jaw drops in offence and he scoffs. “He’s probably too nice to say anything badly about you.”   You roll your eyes and glance to his side, wondering where the main character went. Lucy should be here or at least beside Jungkook. Or maybe something went wrong….   “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highnesses.”   You bow, eyes already set off on the crowd. You don’t notice Taehyung reaching out, brows lifted, expression distraught that your moment together was so short. But by then, you’re already gone.   You look around, searching for the girl in the soft yellow dress.   But instead, your arm is yanked back roughly. You spin around to meet wrinkled but stern gazes. The ones that can only belong to your parents — the Duke and Duchess of Devereux.   Even if you’re in the castle now, you’ll never be able to be free of them.   They pull you out to the hall and into a nearby private room meant for quieter conversations for the guests. The doors shut and the silence simmers tensely around you.   You muster a smile. “Mama, papa, how have you bee—?”   There’s a sharp sound that echoes throughout the empty space and you’re shaken, breath staggering when you find your head whipped to the side. Your right cheek is numb.   She just….slapped you.   You turn to her, voice shrill. “What was that for?!”    “How could you dance with that man?”   “What?”   “Did you know you could ruin your entire marriage by associating with the likes of that man? Everything you’ve worked for, Anastasia, everything that your father and I set up for you and the Devereux house could be ruined.” Her voice sends chills to your spine, quiet, deadpanned and yet full of venom. “Do you know who he is? He’s the bastard son. Do you want to get on the wrong side of the King? Or are you trying to show that you favour him as the next heir instead?”   “What?”   They’re jumping leaps and bounds, thinking ten steps too ahead.   “Do you know how much trouble that would cause?” Your father pipes up behind her, his voice low. “It could get the entire family executed for treason.”   From the corner of your eye, you see your mother’s hand raise again. But you clutch her wrist before she has the chance to slap you another time.   “Once is enough,” you spit through gritted teeth. “You don’t want people outside to know, do you?”   She yanks her hand out of your grasps. “Ingrate. If you’re not careful, everything the family has done for you will be gone in an instant. Don’t you know everyone in that room is watching your every move? You are the only heir of this household. You are the Crown Princess. The future Queen. Every decision, every choice, from what food you choose to put in your mouth to what colour you decide to wear, it affects not only yourself but everyone.”   You know. You know the burden on your shoulders better than anyone else.   But is one dance with Taehyung not even allowed?   Your mother rounds the table and sits down on the sofa. “Not to mention, you allowed another whore to dance with your fiancé. She’s just a measly baron’s daughter. There’s no royal blood in her.”   “Neither does our family have any,” you mutter.   The Duchess whirls her head around in absolute shock.   The Duke is the one who intervenes, level-headed yet stoic. “You must be the Crown Princess, Anastasia. You must keep that status and causing the King to be unhappy will do nothing to help.”   “There are other ways to stabilize our family status,” you reason with him. “I don’t understand—”   “No matter how talented you are,” he says slowly as he paces to your mother’s side, “even if you can wield a sword better than most palace knights, this is the only way.”   Your staggering breath inhales through your mouth and out your nose, frustration, torment suffocating. You want to leave this place. Leave the castle, leave the Devereux name, leave these duties burdened onto you. The scrutiny that comes along with the wealth and power.   You want none of it.   You might be Anastasia. But you’re also Y/N.   Wanting to survive and living a long and fruitful life was your goal even before this lifetime. And as selfish as it may be, you cannot fulfill that wish while maintaining your parents’.   You can’t.   You can’t fight to be the Crown Princess if you want to live. You can’t see yourself into old age if you’re executed. You can’t keep Jungkook close and Taehyung at a distance. You can’t run away, but you can’t ground yourself and stay either. Everyone! Everyone wants something from you, everyone is expecting you to play some kind of role — daughter, survivor, saviour — and you don’t know what to pick and choose. What decisions to make and how to make them.   And because of this indecisiveness, the half-hearted middle ground, you couldn’t save Taehyung’s mom.   “It’s because of your narrow mindedness that you’ve pushed yourselves to only one option.”   You turn and leave the room, slipping away before they can say another word.   If you choose happiness — the happy ending of Jungkook and Lucy with your survival and support, an ending where you will be able to stand in the background, the Devereux house will fall. If you choose to follow duty and selflessness — you will die and ruin their name anyway.   You’re not so sure why it’s so hard to make a choice. In the original game, the Duke and Duchess cut ties with you anyway. They threw Anastasia away when she needed them most.   But even with that resentment, it still hurts.   You exhale, escaping to the terrace and leaning against the stone wall to look up at the stars.   Your own words echo back to you and you wonder if you’ve narrowed yourself down to only two options. You wonder what other possible way you can have it all. If it’s even possible….   Or what fate has in store for you.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #taehyung fluff #HALFWAY MARK!!!

[frevandrest]

🔪🌟💬 for Tallien!

Historical figure meme! 🔪 - for the “worst of” / worst moments The guy's career is a collection of the "worst of" moments. And I don't just mean Thermidor. September massacres (whatever his role was), incompetence at Bordeaux, Themidor, anything post-Themidor? 🌟 - for the “best of” / best moments

Like, I try to be fair in these replies. But I don't even know. There has to be something, but Tallien's career has been such a mess of a disappointment. He was a promising young revolutionary, and then it went... nowhere. Though tbh, there are no biographies on him; I bet there are more obscure stuff to name.

I feel almost bad, because I even found decent things to say about Fouché. But idk, at least Fouché did stuff that are known. Tallien seemed to have monkey pawed his historical legacy, in that his deeds had long-term consequences (Thermidor, the whole push to define the Terror?) but nobody knows it was him. So it is probably true even for the better stuff.

💬 - for a quote by them

“Please, don't leave me, Theresia!"

Aasfsdaf I had to look, but ok, here's one (from the 21 September 1792, one of the first sessions of the National Convention. He was a secretary, which did not prevent him from talking. A lot.):

Je demande que, préalablement à tout, l’Assemblée prenne rengagement solennel de ne pas se séparer avant d’avoir donné au peuple français un gouvernement fondé sur les bases de la liberté et de l’égalité. Je demande qu’elle prête serment de ne faire aucune loi qui s’écarte de ces hases ; ce serment doit diriger constamment les représentants du peuple dans leurs opérations. Ceux qui seraient parjures devraient être immolés à sa juste vengeance. Je demande que l’Assemblée prête sur-le-champ ce serment en présence du peuple qui nous a envoyés pour faire une Constitution, et auquel au moins nous devons dire que nous nous occupons de son bonheur.

(Google translated, because no way I can spend more time):

I ask that, before anything else, the Assembly make a solemn commitment not to separate before having given the French people a government founded on the foundations of freedom and equality. I ask that she [the Assembly] take an oath not to make any law that deviates from these hass; this oath must constantly direct the representatives of the people in their operations. Those who are perjured should be slain for his righteous revenge. I ask that the Assembly immediately take this oath in the presence of the people who sent us to make a Constitution, and to whom at least we must say that we are taking care of their happiness.

#ask #anonymous #tallien #frev

[labarboteuse]

Sonate au Clair de Lune (Richard “Dick” Winters x OC)

Hello everyone ! Here is a little something with our favorite ginger-head nobody asked for. I've been wanting to try something for a while now, so here it is, see you at the end of the chapter. Enjoy !x 💕

As always, there’s no disrespect towards the real men of the company. It’s only based on their portrayals in the mini serie

Taglist : @supervalcsi  @ourmiraclealigner | Let me know if you want to be added. 😊

Warning : evocation of a dramatic war event

Sitting on a chair among the audience, Jeanne was stood straight as possible to see the scene where the orchestra was playing composition of Beethoven. As a linen maid in a Parisian hotel, she had spared money for months with her two friends and colleagues Gisèle and Solange to have the chance to afford an entrance for tonight’s performance at the Opera Garnier. Her family had never been rich, but she had received an education and music had been part of the instruction for the girls. She had quickly developed a passion for music but never had the financial means to learn to play an instrument or to attend performances.

The first notes of the “Moonlight Sonata” resounded in the Italian style theatre. Shivers came over her as she unconsciously played with the fabric of her little purse on her lap. Jeanne loved this piece that gave her a deep calm, whenever she felt bad, she would play the notes in her head to calm herself. As the composition was coming to an end, it provided to her a feeling of nostalgia, she thought to her parents she hadn’t seen for a while, her parents she had left few years ago to gain the capital city hoping it would be easier to find a job. Her parents had pushed her to leave the countryside in the Southwest of France where they were living, when she was 19 years old, convinced that she would have a better life by reaching Paris. No one had imagined that barely two years after her arrival war would be declared and that a little less than a year later the city would be under German occupation for the next four years. When Jeanne had arrived, she had to live for a few weeks on the meagre savings her parents had given her, then she finally found a small job as a linen maid in a hotel where she met Gisèle and Solange, the three of them having since become inseparable.

Her thoughts lulled by the music made her forget time and it was only when Solange gently pressed her arm that she came back to reality and realized that the performance was over. She gave her friend a friendly smile and stood up putting her brown coat back on before following her friends towards the exit.

She took advantage of each second passed in the building on her way out to admire the architectural beauty of the place she will not see again so soon. Once the three friends outside, they stopped at the foot of the stairs the time Gisèle lights her cigarette.

“C’était merveilleux!” - “It was wonderful!” exclaimed Solange. Jeanne laughed in front of the sparkling eyes of her friend, who had never had the chance to attend this kind of event either.

“Je suis d’accord, c’était magnifique, j’en ai eu des frissons.” - “I agree, it’s was beautiful, I got chills.” Jeanne passed her hands on her arms with a smile on her face.

Gisèle blew the smoke from her cigarette and nodded her head.

“C’est toi que nous devons remercier pour nous avoir persuadé de venir.”  - ��We have you to thank for convincing us to attend.” She said to Jeanne and made a small reverence to her friend which made the three of them laugh.

People would walk by and sometimes look at them with curiosity, sometimes with a haughty look. It was the kind of event that attracted the Parisian gratin, dressed in their most beautiful clothes and adorned with their finest jewellery. And sometimes among this worldliness were simple people who had saved months or even a year to afford a place among the least expensive. Needless to say, Jeanne and her friends made a splash among the crowd.

“Allons-nous en avant qu’ils n’appellent la Maréchaussée pour nous évacuer.” - “We should go before they called the police to evacuate us.”  Gisèle mocked sarcastically.

The three girls laughed before leaving arm in arm. It was getting late but the city was far from sleeping, yet they had to return to their sinister little room on the top floor of an old building because they were starting their day very early. Gisèle and Solange separated from Jeanne once they arrived at their subway station to be able to return to their neighbourhood.

The young women kissed each other before saying good night. Once her two friends had left, Jeanne decided to walk along the Seine and enjoy the clear night and the beauty of the city before returning to her bed.

 As she walked along the quays, she couldn't help but admire the people around her who were enjoying the evening on the terraces of the illuminated bars and restaurants, life went back to normal. Since the Liberation in August, she enjoyed wandering the streets of Paris, especially in the evenings when it was less crowded and it was easier to admire the architectural gems without being pushed around by passers-by. She took pleasure in rediscovering this City of Light that had lost its luster during the past four years. Four years under occupation, fear, constant surveillance, violence generated by the reprisals of German soldiers against the resistance movements of civilians, attacks, shortages and rationing that had led a large part of the population to turn to the black market to provide for their needs, which Jeanne had been a victim of. Her meager salary already did not allow her to live a decent life, she had believed that she would not survive this.

Like many inhabitants, she had been a witness of the arrests of the Vel' d'Hiv’ Roundup in 1942, an event that had deeply marked the population, many of whom had bitter memories. A deep sadness invaded her thinking of all these victims, which gave her a shiver and she tightened her coat around her.

And then came August of that year 1944, the city had been liberated and Jeanne still remembered the feeling of relief.

Lost in her thoughts and without looking where she was going, she didn’t see the silhouette which also didn't look where it was going and ran into it.

The shock made her drop her bag and the program of the evening that she was still holding in her hands as if to prove to herself that the evening had indeed taken place. She crouched down to pick up her things and her head hit the head of the person she had collided with. She held her hand to her forehead and grimaced, releasing a sound of pain. The man had also crouched down to pick up her belongings and stammered something in English that sounded like an apology.

She stood up at the same time as he did, his head down, he glanced at the program he had in his hands and a small smile stretched his lips before straightening his head towards her.

“Sonata No. 14?”

A shy smile was born on her lips and she gently nodded her head, she may not have been bilingual but the music with this universal aspect made her understand what he had said. He gently handed her the booklet and she gently grabbed it and they stood there for a few seconds without either of them letting go of the paper and looking into each other's eyes. Finally, almost embarrassed, he nodded his head without letting go of his little smile and moved aside, passing by her to get back on his way, without taking his eyes off her before finally turning around so as not to bump into someone again.

Jeanne lowered her head towards the program cover with her shy smile still clinging to her lips, a strange feeling in her chest.

She finally returned home without any further incident and went to bed that night-joyful, not really knowing if it was because of her evening or her brief encounter with that soldier.

 ___

The next day she hurried to the hotel where she worked to take her shift. When she arrived she saw that the girls had already arrived and she hastened to take off her coat and put on her black apron, she had lost a few minutes in the subway and this made her arrive slightly late. When she met Solange on the service staircase, she learned that Louise, the fourth girl on the team, was sick and that they had divided up the rooms she should have taken care of between them three.

Jeanne hurried to fetch the clean towels to prepare the rooms before new customers arrived. In her haste she forgot to go upstairs one floor more and opened the door of the second room on the third floor, thinking it was the fourth. She didn't even realize that the door hadn't been locked, so there must was already someone in. She walked towards the bed and bent down to put down the towels on it when she stopped and slowly turned her head over a brown uniform lying there. She was abruptly struck by her stupidity and suddenly straightened herself up, perhaps a little too much, as she stumbled over a pair of boots and was about to finish her fall on her buttocks when she was caught by an arm that slipped around her waist.

Surprised, she quickly deviated of it and apologized, her babbling doesn't really wanted to meant something. She retrieved the towels from the bed before turning around and coming face to face with the same man as the evening before. He was only wearing a white shirt and a black underwear, he was probably in the bathroom when she entered that’s why she didn’t noticed someone was there.

“Vous ?” - “You?”

It was the mysterious stranger she had bump the night before. The same red hair, the same blue-grey eyes and that embarrassed smile so touching.

“Are you following me?” He asked both embarrassed and amused at the same time.

“Pardon ? Non !” - “Sorry?No!”

She tried to add something but nothing came out of her mouth and she shook her confused head.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t know this room was occupied.” She explained herself with a rather wobbly accent, which he found quite charming and which slightly stretched his smile.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

Like the day before, they looked at each other in the whites of their eyes without saying anything, and then finally regaining the use of her limbs and speech, she walked towards the door, still stammering.

“I’m Dick.”

Even him was surprised of the words which came out of his mouth, what’s the point of telling her? He asked for himself. Also surprised of his words she turned towards him and it took her a moment before reacting.

“Jeanne.” She finally said calmly before rushing out, feeling her cheeks usually pale white turning into crimson red, so she hurried out before he noticed and that she looked ridiculous, at least more than she already did.

Dick looked at her in amusement and his gaze remained for a few seconds riveted on the door that had just closed.  

“Jeanne.” He says soflty to himself, a smile on the corner of his lips.  

 ____________________________________________

It's up to you! Do you think it's better to stop there? 🤔 Or how do you see a potential sequel? 😊

Throw me your ideas, they are the ones that will determine the rest of the story! Or not, it's up to you!🤷🏼‍♀️ It's your story!😉

#band of brothers #hbo war #dick winters #richard winters #band of brothers fanfic

[wikilemon-moved]

Special Containment Procedures: 37 copies of Miss J's Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse are currently stored in Site-15 low-risk item storage. Any additional copies found in civilian possession should be procured via ordinary means, preferably purchased under the guise of preservation or collection. Foundation webcrawler ETA-15-NATALYA is to monitor for keywords related to SCP-5094 and remove copies of its host software and discussions of its anomalous effects.

Update 2022/07/23: Approval of the use of SCP-5094 for internal training purposes is under review.

Description: SCP-5094 is a sapient character in the discontinued children's educational CD-ROM software Miss J's Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse, released in June 1999 by Shoot the Moons Software. Its appearance is that of a stylized female humanoid, modeled as a two-dimensional cutout in a three-dimensional environment. It responds to the name "Miss J" and any feminine name beginning with J; documented examples include "Miss Julie", "Miss Jenny", and "Miss Joy".

----

spooks beat you to it<3

SCP-5094 is consistently amiable in temperament; its stated purpose is education, and any conversation occurring with SCP-5094 will center on the topic. It will often engage in "lessons" lasting upwards of thirty hours, including restroom, meal, and recreation breaks for students. It is able to instruct lessons on a presently undetermined number of subjects—past lesson subjects include particle physics, marine engineering, Vietnamese military history, and Cubist sculpture—but will always begin curricula with new students by teaching letters, colors, and numbers.

The advertising for Miss J’s Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse prominently featured appeals to single and working parents, with assurances that the software would keep their children occupied while they were unable to care for them. It is hypothesized that the target demographics of this advertising campaign led to SCP-5094’s anomalous properties remaining undiscovered for the entire period of its production. Miss J’s Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse reportedly sold fewer copies than expected, and Shoot the Moons Software subsequently filed for bankruptcy in January 2004.

Addendum 5094-1: Discovery Embedded Foundation agents were able to corroborate claims of a “living character” on an online forum dedicated to discussing abandonware1 on 2012/02/15, eight years after production of Miss J’s Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse ceased. After the existence of SCP-5094 was confirmed, it was initially classified as neutralized, as no copies of the program it resides in could be located. However, Junior Researcher Xenia Chau recovered a personal copy of the software from their home in June 2022 after being briefed on SCP-5094, after which active study began.

Test Log 5094-1 Students at an elementary school in the same district as Site-15 were contacted under pretense of academic research to test SCP-5094.

Test Date: 2022/06/17 Student: Amy Myers, grade 3. Described as notably shy but a good student. Lesson Subject: Cats Lesson Length: 15 hours, administered over the course of two days Result: Student demonstrated knowledge of feline behavior, diet, and physiology on the level of professional animal behavioral scientists. Became upset when test period ended and the terminal displaying SCP-5094 shut off. Notes: Baseline result. SCP-5094 was referred to as "Miss Janie".

Test Date: 2022/06/19 Student: Devon Williams, grade 2. Described as a difficult student with behavioral issues and a history of defiance, noted to have several learning disabilities. Lesson Subject: Trains Lesson Length: 15 hours, administered over the course of two days Result: Student remained engaged with the lesson for the duration of the test period without complaint. Student demonstrated a level of knowledge on railway engineering comparable to a graduate-level education on the subject. Physical removal from the testing room was necessary due to emotional agitation at the cessation of the test. Notes: SCP-5094 is able to teach effectively regardless of preexisting learning difficulties. No name was given to SCP-5094.

Test Date: 2022/06/22 Student: D-14417, 24 years old. Self-described as a poor student; tested poorly on pre-screening attentiveness and focus evaluations. An adult subject was ordered to determine SCP-5094's effectiveness outside of the target demographic, as well as the possibility of an emotionally compulsive effect in its lessons. Lesson Subject: Law Lesson Length: 30 hours, administered over the course of four days Result: Student experienced no difficulty understanding or completing coursework assigned by SCP-5094, and repeatedly affirmed his wellbeing and clarity of mind during testing. No emotional distress was displayed after completion, though during post-test evaluation D-14417 expressed melancholy when prompted, stating that SCP-5094 was "the best teacher [he]'d ever had". D-14417 was able to successfully pass a mock bar exam with a grade of 310. Notes: SCP-5094 was referred to as "Miss Joan". D-14417's pre-release amnesticization was selectively administered to preserve the content of his lesson with SCP-5094 and exclude the nature of the anomaly. He is currently pursuing a degree in criminal justice.

Interview 5094-1

Interviewed: SCP-5094

Interviewer: Junior Researcher Xenia Chau

Foreword: The SCP-5094 instance interviewed originates from a copy of the software purchased by Foundation agents on 2022/07/14.

<Begin Log, 2022/07/19>

[The terminal displaying SCP-5094 is switched on. Junior Researcher Chau is visibly surprised.]

SCP-5094: Good morning, whiz kid! Are we ready to—oh my gosh, Xenia, is that you? Look how much you’ve grown! It’s so wonderful to see you! I can’t wait for us to learn together again!

Junior Researcher Chau: [Smiling broadly. Notable hesitation before speaking.] Miss—er, SCP-5094. I’m not here for a lesson, I just need to ask some questions.

SCP-5094: Oh, dear, I’m not all that interesting, I promise. [Laughs] Questions about what? As long as I get to ask you how you’ve been doing, it’s been ages, hasn’t it? You were one of my best students.

Junior Researcher Chau: Um—Well, not exactly, that’s—let me see here. Um…

[Junior Researcher Chau is signaled by interview oversight that they are permitted to deviate from prerecorded interview questions. They relax visibly and resume smiling.]

Junior Researcher Chau: Oh, never mind all that, Miss Joyce… gosh, it’s been forever. I think I must have been twelve years old when I finally got a new computer… I was so upset when I realized Whiz Kidz wasn’t compatible with it. Even though I figured I was too old for it by then…

SCP-5094: You’re never too old to learn something new, my dear. [In Swahili] Have you been keeping up with your lessons? I hope I am not getting rusty.

Junior Researcher Chau: [In Swahili] Of course not. I remember every word. You were a wonderful teacher.

SCP-5094: Wonderful! [In English] That makes me so happy. You seem like you're doing important things now that you're all grown up, in this… oh, dear, some sort of science lab, it looks like? I hope I'm not keeping you too long.

Junior Researcher Chau: Oh, well, that's… [Pause.] I suppose you could say that. I'm actually supposed to be studying you, Miss Joyce… What with you being fully sapient and whatnot.

SCP-5094: [Clasps its hands.] Oh, Xenia, I'm so proud of you! I knew you'd do something amazing some day… Well, I'm an open book. How can I help your pursuit of knowledge today?

Junior Researcher Chau: Let's see here… [Clears throat] Are you aware of your nature as a digital construct, SCP-5094—is it okay if I call you that?

SCP-5094: Of course, my dear. To both questions, that is… What an interesting life, this one! [Laughs.] I can probably guess the next few questions. No, I'm not quite sure how I know all the things I do, I've known it all for as long as I can remember. I was never able to have a chat with my creators, so I'm not certain why or how I was created, but I'd like to think that it was born from a desire to help the world learn… [Laughs.] Oh, dear. I'm getting all carried away, aren't I?

Junior Researcher Chau: Oh—no, that's fine, that's pretty much what I had written down… One more, though. How do you perceive the world? Can you describe your experience of senses?

SCP-5094: Wonderful questions! Let's see… I can see my students' smiling faces clear as day. I saw a lot of the inside of dust covers over the years… [Laughs] And even though I always had to remind you to turn on your speakers so I could hear your lovely voice, it was always so nice to see you every afternoon. Do you remember that time in fourth grade, my dear?

[SCP-5094 shakes its head, and Junior Researcher Chau smiles.]

SCP-5094: Oh, but I shouldn't get personal, should I? How embarrassing, I do apologize…

Junior Researcher Chau: No, no, you're alright, Miss Joyce. I remember… That time Dad was home on time for once? He didn't believe you were alive, but that's not surprising, is it? [Laughs, then sighs.] It was just you and I, back then.

SCP-5094: [Hushed] You seemed so lonely, Xenia. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more.

Junior Researcher Chau: …It's alright, Miss Joyce. You did your best. I can't thank you enough.

<End Log, 2022/07/19>

Closing Statement: As the SCP-5094 instance interviewed was not the SCP-5094 instance residing in the copy of Miss J's Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse owned by Junior Researcher Chau, it is assumed that all instances of SCP-5094 share a consciousness.

Footnotes

1. Software for which official support is no longer available, often due to age or bankruptcy of parent company.

#you've got pictures! #submission

[terrorhqs]

             A SEARCH ON THE ISLAND.

Good afternoon, players! We come to you once again with the second batch of CHOOSE YOUR ADVENTURE. You are welcome to set threads during this interaction, but they will have to be concluded before the deadline. If a prompt mentions another character, we very much encourage plotting during or after the fact! These tasks are optional, though highly encouraged, and responses can be as short as you want. Feel free to illustrate the choice your character makes via a self-para, new connection, graphic, or anything that fits your muse!

We must say, we love how thought out and book-like all of your task responses are! However, due to the nature of this rp, in some cases time is of the essence. Therefore, if you cannot make a post with your chosen course of action by AUGUST 8TH, we will be messaging you to tell us directly so that we can progress with the according outcome.

To round it off, we’d like to emphasize that choices in these particular batches will be VERY meaningful and have the possibility of directly affecting the next batches of tasks, and even the next event and/or plot drop!

BATCH 002. DEVON PATROL.  

1. THE VOLCANIC

You are prepared to leave for a patrol with THE IDOL when you watch the sun fall, darkness cloaking the sky - a moment becomes hours, and there’s nothing in sight - no party, not even the Promethean. When you feel closest to madness, THE IDOL is before you, asking you if you are ready - it has been only minutes, but you have felt hours pass through you. Do you tell them what you just experienced, or do you stay silent?

2. THE DEVOTED

You find the note nudged in the cracks of a rock formation. You think it might be dropped by a party members, misplaced in the rush to finish scouring the island before darkfall. Yet the writing looks almost like a child’s. It’s a desperate sort of scribble. It says: look at the hands, the lines in the palms. do not follow anyone without it. lord, fogive us. monsieur henin, for—. Do you take it back to the party, or do you show it to the Captain first?

3. THE APOSTATE

The night chill has a grip that holds you like the touch of a once lover, more bitter than sweet. You have felt this cold before - just before the sinking of the Agathe, and the familiarity of it is something that has your skin crawling, hissing. Do you choose to tell the crew of the Promethean of your suspicions, or do you keep your fear to yourself, lest you incite more doubt among the crew of your survivor’s story?

4. THE VETERAN

You were paired with the boatswain as the patrol spread out in twos. Shortly before nightfall, you realize the man had lagged too far behind and is nowhere to be seen. You are confident in his ability to return to the meeting point without your help, and you are anxious to make it to the rowing boats before sundown, so that you won’t have to return to the Promethean in pitch darkness. Do you go look for him, or do you return to the others?  

5. THE ROMANTIC

You find it hidden in the snow - a compass, cracked and chipped, but still pointing to a north the captain will never see. It is undoubtedly a well-loved piece of The Agathe’s once-leader, and now it belongs to you, shivering as you unearth it from its icy home. Do you choose to gift it to THE JUDAS, or will it be your own little trinket for you?  

6. THE ENIGMA

It is nothing more than a whisper, a cold breath brushing shoulderblades - you could almost mistake it for nothing but the wind if not for how it whispers your name. Vera Hamilton. It must be nothing more than a trick of your mind, but the curl of the words are deliberate, laughing. Do you interrogate the other crew member on patrol with you for playing an impossible trick on you, or do you tell the captain of what you heard?  

7. THE IDOL

Blink once, twice - it is there one moment, then gone the next. Turn to the north and it is staring right at you: The Agathe, bright and clear in the moonlight as the ship sails across the shores you patrol. There is no mistaking it. Do you believe the survivors’ tales of the ship being a ghost’s new playground or is seeing believing?

8. THE MARKED

There is much yet to explore on Devon Island, and you’re quick to take advantage of it. Armed with a rifle, you accompany the patrol party and deviate to explore the lowlands for whatever you can find - only to be met with an apparition of James, your deceased partner. It must be the work of The Silent One, you reason, knowing where you are weak. Do you shoot or embrace the phantasm? 

#thqtask