#?? he doesnt have a last name right

[cheatingtime]

Duncan pls if u want to 👀👀👀👀👀👀

^___^ here u go

[moeblob]

I'm so close...... NY!Hrid is at +9. One more and I can drop the game.... I just love him so much and this alt is so happy and I need it for him...

[alchemiclee]

i know this has been said 473773474833 times by the kavetham/haikaveh shippers and probably even nonshippers, but i'll say it again. I finally finished the genshin summer event and did the little after quest in sumeru and.....every time kaveh is sneaking around trying not to be noticed coming out of alhaithams house it's just such a gay vibe. he's basically screaming "I can't be caught being gay in a homophobic society!" even if that's not what the game writers are *actually* saying. that's just how it comes off and they can't make it come off any other way. with hoyo's gay history, it makes me wonder if it's on purpose and all a cover-up to have a technically different reason for it so they can get away with it lmao but we will never know.

[nyatbinary-81]

okay. @evil-eyedlurker lets try this again since tumblr ate my last draft.

Part 1: Setting the Stage.

Before we begin, I'd like to recommend reading the book for yourself. There's a free copy here on archive.org. I'd also like to point to my previous post for some context if anyone reading this post is new here. You may also want to watch Dual Process Theory's take, as I agree with pretty much all of their arguments.

You have the appropriate context for this? Good.

Now then.

Within the logbook, there are three known writers: Red Pen, aka Michael Afton; Faded Text, aka Charlie Emily; and Altered Text, aka CC/Cassidy Afton.

There are also, however, three identifiable names: Mike, Cassidy, and Dave. Popular fanon will tell you that "Cassidy" is Faded, as well as being the Vengeful Spirit and the second Golden Freddy spirit. It will now also tell you that CC's name is Dave, previously mstaken to be Evan.

I am here to tell you that popular fanon is, as popular fanon tends to be, wildly off the mark.

As per my last post, I dismissed Cassidy as a little girl for two reasons: firstly, that she has no narrative significance before whenever the logbook takes place, and secondly, because Faded asks too many specific questions to be a stranger. The logbook came out after Pizzeria Sim, and introducing Cassidy as such an important character this late in the story is nonsensical.

But...my theory leaves out Dave. Who is Dave?

Put a pin in that for now. We'll get there. For now, let's talk about Michael Afton.

Part 2: Why?

In my last theory post, linked above, I asked a question that I found to be forgotten: why? Why does faded ask such specific questions? Why is there so much puppet symbolism? Why would CC know the name Cassidy? Why are there so many tidbits that never get mentioned?

I have some new ones today: Why is Mike here? Why are Charlie and Cassidy in his book? Why is the name Dave important?

For simplicity's sake, we'll start with why Charlie and CC are talking. Based on the imagery of the Puppet and birthdays on pages 31 and 98, as well as "The party was for you" (103), it's most likely to set up the Happiest Day, placing this before...whenever that happens. Before Pizzeria Sim, at least.

(Fig. 1: The Puppet/Happiest Day symbolism.)

So...if that's the goal, why is Mike important? Sure, he helps spell Cassidy's name, but only the last couple letters. And of all the available grids, "Dave" is spelt in the Foxy grid. The one animatronic that is associated with Mike.

(Fig. 2: Available grids.)

To me, this implies the name Dave is important for Michael to remember. But why?

...Why would Michael need to remember anything? Surely he remembers, right? I mean, he references the Nightmares and casual bongos and exotic butters and the Bite. Surely, surely that means he remembers!

(Fig. 3: Michael's references.)

Reread all his answers again, all throughout the book, knowing this takes place after Sister Location, during the time he's hunting down his father. Tell me what's missing. (Or you can trust me to tell you, I suppose.)

Mentions of his family, right?

In fact, he's not even the one to bring up the Bite. The logbook brings it up for him; he just responds to it.

Throughout the book, Mike is unresponsive and noncommittal. His doodles exist in the corners and margins, he rarely responds to either the book or Faded's questions directly, he even crosses out his own name. The only thing he repeatedly emphasizes throughtout the book is SURVIVAL. In all caps, SURVIVAL. CERTAIN DEATH.

(Fig. 4: Michael's scribblings as per the previous paragraph.)

Interestingly, he commonly writes about leaving leaving. Such as running away, locking up the animatronics, going on vacation, or dying. This directly contrasts his established desire to find his father, which implies he hasn't gotten that motivation yet.

Michael has been scooped by the time the Logbook happens. Michael, like most spirits, forgot. Forgot less than Cassidy and perhaps the MCI, for whatever reason, but forgot nonetheless.

And Charlie is here to help him remember, the same way she's helping Cassidy remember.

Specifically, she wants him to remember the name Dave, spelled out via the coordinates of the answered questions. The first one of which is answered by Michael, long before Cassidy says "I'm scared" as a potential alternate answer.

Part Three: Fandom Really Needs to Learn to Re-examine Fundamentals.

Take that pin out of "Who's Dave" and "Why is Dave important" from earlier, because it's time to answer those questions.

Okay. So, we've established a few things.

Dave is not one of the spirits in the logbook.

Charlie is pushing for Michael to remember the name Dave.

Michael has lost his memory, and has yet to gain the motive of finding his father.

If all of this is true, "Dave" must be connected to Michael's motivation: finding his father.

But we already know his name! William Afton, as established in...in......uh.........which game was it again? Sorry, hold on, let me just check my sources...*shuffling papers*...oh! Here we go! William Afton's name was established in the novels...and...and for the entirety of The Silver Eyes, he's referred to almost exclusively by his alias, Dave. To my knowledge, his first name is never confirmed in the games.

...What if we've been wrong in accepting that his name is William Afton? What if he is Dave, and it's not just an alias?

Allow me, once more, to set the scene.

Part Four: FNaF is a story. Let's treat it as such.

The date is [REDACTED], just after Michael's scooping. His corpse gets up without him, shambling around with metal for bones and vague remnants of children's souls for a pilot.

Michael himself is stuck in a security logbook; a paltry little thing given to him by his employers, like a twisted joke. He writes and crosses out his own name, and doodles in the margins for a bit.

Charlie, ever the attentive soul, joins him, bringing the Crying Child with her. Two brothers, one memory, or something like that. She begins gauging what he remembers: Does he know who he is? How he died?

Michael doesn't respond. He doesn't need to. It's not hard for Charlie to piece together what happened, especially given his shambling corpse ranting and raving about their revenge.

So, she begins to push Michael to remember his killer. She starts with the nightmares (do you have dreams), the first thing he did. She follows up with his resemblance to his father (what do you see), but Michael goes unresponsive, possibly catching on to her game. Ever the stubborn one, that. Instead, CC responds. So she switches gears, roping CC into helping her spell out both names by directing her questions to him, until Michael finally helps spell Cassidy.

Next to the wordsearch where Cassidy remembers is a mirror; one to reflect EVAD (spelled in CC answer order) into DAVE. Two brothers, one memory, as the saying doesn't go.

Michael's corpse lies cold and empty on the ground, Ennard having escaped into a gutter. He can't move on, not yet. There's only one option left for him now.

Michael looks into the mirror.

And his eyes open purple.

.

also it would be really funny if davetrap had an alias in the games timeline and it was william/will miller THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!

[carnival-core]

Hey not to make a political post but does it ever feel like we can just never win and the suffering will be forever and we're always going to have to fight with moments of peace being fleeting and not worth looking forward to

[potatobugz]

MACHINES

[larrythefloridaman]

two very different kinds of siblings

[avirael]

Vargsången

It had been around a week since they had found refuge at Camp Dragonhead, when Rael woke especially early one morning. They usually got out of bed early enough to watch the sun rise with no problem whatsoever but this particular morning they rose with an uneasy feeling.

Before they left their room Rael glimpsed out of the window, where big white snowflakes were wildly dancing in front of a dark cloudy sky. It would be difficult to get A‘viloh out of bed today, Rael thought as they put on their boots which they had placed next to the door the evening before. It was then that they noticed the carefully folded piece of paper someone had pushed through the small gap between the door and the dark wooden floorboards.

With a confused expression on their face they picked it up and unfolded it to see a small and very familiar handwriting. Instantly that uneasy feeling flared up again. Quickly Rael read the short letter and found their worst fears confirmed.

Dear Rael,

I am sorry to leave you like this but I know that you would have tried to stop me. I am aware that this plan is madness but I simply cannot go on with this uncertainty any longer. I am returning to Ul’dah to find out what happened to our friends. I know it is dangerous but I ran and hid from the consequences of my actions for long enough to know that I will not find peace this way. Don’t come looking for me and please keep Tataru and Alphinaud safe.

Forgive me. If you can.

Your friend,

A’viloh

„This idiot!“, Rael growled as they threw another glimpse out of the window and then hurriedly left their room. Without knocking they tore open the the door across the corridor but found A’viloh’s room empty. As fast as they could they ran down the stairs, ignoring the greetings of the few people who were also up early and threw open the door leading to the yard. The blizzard they had already seen from the window felt a lot stronger and colder up close and to Rael’s frustration not a single footstep was to be seen in front of the house. No traces where he would have gone. The evidence long destroyed by the storm. How long was he already out there? And what had he been thinking at all to go out alone in a weather like this??

Whispering another string of profanities Rael stepped outside and ran across the yard. With one strong push they threw open the heavy double doors that led to the commander’s office. They hadn’t even reached the desk on the opposite side of the room yet when they urgently addressed the Elezen sitting behind it. „Lord Haurchefant!“

Surprised the man looked up from the paperwork’s on his desk and smiled at Rael.

„Please, I told you to drop the formalities. How may I help you.“

„We have a problem!“, Rael continued and the worried tone in their voice was enough to make Haurchefant’s smile turn into a more serious expression. „What happened?“

„A’viloh!“, Rael exclaimed in frustration as if that one word was explanation enough and waved around the piece of paper they still clasped tightly in their hand. „He ran away! To find our friends it seems, but all he’s gonna accomplish is get himself killed. I don’t need to be from around here to know that someone without experience is going to freeze to death all alone in that storm out there! And even if he miraculously makes it to Ul’dah, Ilberd and the other traitors will without doubt be waiting for him and he doesn’t stand a chance against all of them alone.“

„Breathe, my friend.“, the Elezen said and gestured for Rael to calm down. For a moment he looked out of the window in thought and nodded. „Unfortunately you are right. With this weather it is very dangerous out there…“

That information didn’t do much to calm Rael down. „How can we find him in that blizzard? I don’t know when he left or how far he got. I fear he—„

„Say no more.“, Haurchefant interrupted them. Without further hesitation he stood up and walked toward the door, grabbing a thick woollen coat from a coat rack beside the door. „I will find A’viloh and bring him back. You stay here where you are safe. No! No argument, please. I’ll be faster without you.“

Nonetheless Rael followed him out to the yard where he shouted for one of the guards to immediately bring his chocobo.

Rael tried to convince him that they would cover more ground if they both went searching for A‘viloh but Haurchefant pointed out that Rael would most likely get lost too and that he didn’t like to have to search for them both out in this storm. Reluctantly Rael promised to wait for him at Camp Dragonhead and watched him check his gear, get on his chocobo and vanish into the storm with worry written all over their face.

***

The snowflakes and the ice-cold wind felt like sharp little blades on his face. He cursed this storm for not the first time today and he also cursed himself as well.

What had he been thinking?

Not much honestly.

There hadn’t been a storm when he had sneaked out long before anybody else was awake. The whole night he hadn’t slept, once again thinking and wondering. Back then this part of his plan had seemed to him the easy part. He had more wondered about how he would cross Gridanian territory and make it into Ul’dah unrecognised than what else could happen on his way there when at first only a few big snowflakes had begun to slowly fall from the sky. In his determination he had barely taken notice of them, only when the clouds got darker and darker, the snow more and more and finally the wind picked up, howling and biting, he had realised that he hadn’t planned for something like this to happen. He had already walked quite a bit of distance and the Observatorium couldn’t be that far anymore. Maybe he could hide there until the storm died down. So he continued onwards. But with every minute passing he saw less and less of where he was going and soon he realised that he had no clue anymore where he was at all or in which direction he needed to walk. And with every passing moment it only seemed to get colder.

So now there he was, blindly stumbling through the snow, hoping that a settlement, a house, a fire, anything would show up before his eyes. But instead he couldn’t even tell anymore where the white ground beneath his feet ended and where the sky with it’s veil of wind and snow begun. He had no idea what to do.

For a moment he contemplated to scream for help, but who would hear him out here with this howling wind? He tried anyway and found that he barely made a sound, his voice only a distant whispering even to his own ears. Oh, I’m going to die here, he thought, no one will ever find me. That thought made him shiver even more violently than he already did and hot burning tears started to gather in the corners of his eyes. They were long frozen on his cheeks before they could reach his chin.

Nonetheless he took off his gloves, tried to wipe the weird sensation away but his face and hands only felt cold and numb. Instead he lowered his fingers to his lips, tried to warm them with his breath but even breathing felt more and more painful and exhausting by now, let alone putting one feet in front of the other.

Finally he tripped. There hadn’t even been a stone or a branch, just his frozen clumsy feet that felt so heavy. Without much of a sound he fell into the deep cold snow. Absently he tried to blink the snow out of his eyes, not that he would have seen much anyway. At first he weakly tried to push himself back up but his whole body felt so horribly heavy and tired. Oh yes, he was tired, so very tired. Maybe he just needed to rest for a moment. It all didn’t really seem that bad anymore now that he lay here in the soft white snow. It felt strangely warm really. For a moment he even thought he heard a voice calling out his name. Saw a silhouette between the dancing snowflakes. A hand stretched out towards him.

With a peaceful smile on his face his eyelids drooped and his mind faded to darkness.

***

How long was he gone now?, Rael wondered as they paced about the room, around the big table with all the maps, back and forth between the roaring fireplace and the window facing south.

For the third time now they pulled up their collar and stepped out into the empty frozen courtyard. Everyone at Camp Dragonhead who wasn’t on guard duty had been clever enough to seek shelter from the storm indoors and as Rael worriedly looked towards the gate, it‘s silhouette barely visible against the myriad of snowflakes, they wondered if Haurchefant’s decision to leave in search for A’viloh on his own had been a good one. Maybe something had happened to him.

Should they follow him?

No, they would get lost without a doubt…

Should they alarm the whole camp about their commander’s absence?

But what should the soldiers do about this?

Helplessly Rael raised their face to the sky but all there was were dark storm clouds and more questions they couldn’t answer. There was nothing to guide them, to tell them what to do. No gods, no teacher, no whispers, no vision. Nothing at all. Rael, who always knew what to do or at least had an educated guess about what might prove helpful, never felt that useless before.

Almost violently they pressed their eyes shut and tried to summon up the answers they needed by sheer force of will. A lonely figure at which the wind tore mercilessly. Determined but also futile. Forcing any sign to reveal itself to them had never worked before and neither did it now. There simply was nothing they could do.

Why haven’t I seen this coming?

Eyes still closed they started to shiver, fighting against the burning sensation building behind their eyelids. Their mouth twitched no matter how tightly they pressed their lips shut. Instead they breathed through their nose, heavy shaky breaths which turned to white clouds in the air.

Then a horn blared above. Rael flinched and realised that a guard on the fortification wall had given a signal. They didn’t know what it meant and still Rael fixed their eyes on the barely visible gateway, hoping, praying to whatever was willing to listen. Please, let them be safe.

At first Rael feared they were imagining it but then clearly something moved between the sea of snowflakes. A dark form, something - no, someone was coming closer. Rael almost stopped breathing. Once they realised it was truly Haurchefant on his chocobo, they almost fell to their knees in relief.

Only as Haurchefant carefully climbed off of his chocobo, Rael saw that he wasn’t wearing his coat anymore. Instead he had held it in place bundled up on the saddle in front of him, to make sure it didn’t fall down and also keeping it close to himself for warmth. As he lifted that small bundle into his arms and slowly stepped towards them Rael couldn’t stifle a sob any longer and desperately ran towards him.

A’vi!

Wrapped in the way too large piece of clothing was the small Miqo’te, entirely motionless. His skin so pale and cold. Frantically Rael searched for a sign of life - a sound, a movement, a pulse - but there was none. He looked like a dead thing and that fact smashed Rael’s heart to a million little pieces.

It had been too late. They had lost him.

***

Darkness. Endless and suffocating.

A moment ago he thought there had been light.

There had been snow too.

No…

Dark angry water. Hissing like the wind.

A thunderstorm. Or a blizzard.

But there had been sun too, right? Once. Warm pleasant sunlight. Hot bright sand.

Yes, it had been warm. But why was he feeling so cold then?

Why had the sun left him all alone in this cold, cold darkness?

Suddenly he heard a voice calling his name.

It sounded so far away and then suddenly so close. So worried.

He couldn’t quite remember if he knew it but it felt friendly. It felt warm and welcoming.

It felt safe. He could rest now.

***

When Haurchefant had arrived back at Camp Dragonhead cradling poor A‘viloh in his arms, the Miqo’te had no noticeable breathing or pulse at all. He had looked like a corpse and Rael had already feared he was dead. Nonetheless Haurchefant had hurriedly brought him indoors. Loudly he had yelled orders left and right and suddenly the whole camp was in turmoil. In fact it was still early morning and it only had been this sudden unexpected ruckus that had awoken Tataru and Alphinaud as footsteps and loud voices rushed past their bedrooms. They watched puzzled as the servants quickly brought lots of blankets as well as warm dry clothes to replace A’viloh’s frozen ones and also wood for the fireplace and warming pans for his bed.

Immediately Rael had begun to work. For a few terrifying moments they had sat there in silent focus trying to find a sign of life from A‘viloh. Heartbeat, breathing, aether. Nothing… nothing… nothing… then: a shy heartbeat after all. So slow, so weak, easy to miss. But it was still there and Rael refused to let it vanish! They never had to heal a patient with hypothermia before and only could guess what to do exactly. It wasn’t a open wound they could close or a poison they could extract. Instead all they could do was use their magic to steady his heartbeat and help slowly warm his body up.

Both, Tataru and Alphinaud, stood there by the door speechlessly staring in shock, not knowing or understanding what had happened. They saw Rael’s face and didn’t dare to ask either. Not until Haurchefant reappeared. The servants had urged him to change into dry, warmer clothes too and now he returned pressing warm drinks into the helpless spectators hands and shooing them off, back to their rooms, against quiet protest.

“Please, the healer will arrive any moment now. There is nothing you can do in the meantime. I promise I have you informed at once if anything changes.“

Bleakly Rael noticed that his choice of words didn’t specify if this would be a change for better or for worse. A few moments later the healer, torn from his sleep on Haurchefant’s demand, arrived but he also left rather quickly again.

Rael had only let this ishgardian doctor close to A’viloh because they had hoped that maybe he knew better how to help him than they did considering he needed to have more experience with cases like this. But the Elezen hadn’t done much at all and only claimed that the poor Miqo’te’s life now lay in Halone’s hands. Rael had sharply laughed at this statement but it had really sounded more like a menacing bark. Why did this sharlatan bother to come here at all? Once again they had to do everything by themself if they wanted it done properly.

Just to make sure, they tried every kind of healing magic they could think of hoping that maybe some of it would help, even the ancient spells his mother and the oracle had taught them. When no immediate response was visible - had they really expected one? - they kept on monitoring A’viloh’s heartbeat as well as his still very thin aether and supported both as good as they could using their own.

For hours they sat there silently working their magic, carefully trying to ration their own power reserves as long as possible. They were almost exhausted, almost out of aether themself. Their fingers were shaking and their eyelids felt heavy. It wasn’t healthy and they knew they couldn’t do this much longer.

But at least it seemed to work. For a short happy moment they thought everything would be fine again.

Then the fever hit.

***

The darkness scared him.

It was cold and wet and inescapable.

The wind turned to howls of wild animals and these again soon to laughs and mockery.

Their hungry fangs and claws reached for him in the darkness. Trying to pull him down.

He tried to run but he wasn’t moving at all.

He tried to shake off the claws digging into his skin but their grip was too strong.

He tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound.

Then with a sudden jolt he was falling. A long horrible fall through infinite darkness.

When he finally hit the ground he was in the cold, freezing snow again.

Just that it didn’t feel cold at all anymore. But soft and warm.

There was that voice again, calling his name.

An unfamiliar voice.

No, that wasn’t true. He knew this voice.

It was the only voice he ever wanted to remember.

If he ever realised he forgot this sound, the pain would destroy him.

Between the veil of snow there was a hand reaching out for him. A worried face.

Arms holding him tight. Keeping him warm.

So familiar eyes of molten gold.

A loving smile.

His favourite thing in the world.

Oh! Now he remembered!

He understood. At last, no miracle to save him.

Finally…

…

Laqa.

***

„Laqa…“

Shocked Rael looked up from the hand they carefully held between their own.

Haurchefant couldn’t know the meaning of this feverish mumbling but Rael did and it terrified them, the panic plainly visible on their face.

„The healer warned us that the fever might make him hallucinate...“ the elezen offered in an attempt to console them.

„I know that!“, Rael snapped harshly.

It wasn’t fair but they had no nerve to hear things that were plainly visible. After the fever had appeared Haurchefant had called for the ishgardian doctor again. At least this time he had offered a potion that was supposed to lower A’viloh’s fever. So far it hadn’t shown any effect though. But that wasn’t Haurchefant’s fault.

„I am sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you…“

The Elezen shook his head. „I know, my friend. You’re tired. Don’t you think it would be better to rest for a while?“

„No, I’m fine. I will stay.“ It did sound hollow even to them.

„You know, you did everything you could, right?“, Haurchefant asked while putting a hand on Rael’s shoulder and Rael hated how it almost sounded like they had lost this fight already.

„I know… Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?“ Hopefully that hadn’t sounded rude again.

He hesitated, then he nodded slowly. „No more magic though, alright? I don’t want you to collapse too.“

Rael just shrugged. It wasn’t the answer Haurchefant had wanted but he left anyway. With a heavy sigh they returned their gaze to A’viloh’s pale face as he mumbled something unintelligible.

Oh, why hadn’t they noticed he was planning something? Where had they gone wrong?

Probably when A’viloh’s smile had fooled them into thinking that he was alright. As if a few nice words and some hot chocolate could fix everything that was wrong. Rael had wanted to believe it but should have known better. No matter how much they had told themself that he was stronger now, braver, healthier… mostly he seemed fine and then suddenly tiny things could still throw him off course. It was a tricky thing for Rael to assess how A‘viloh would react sometimes. Like a broken mug that had been kitted. There were bits and pieces that were still alright or had healed fairly good, the damage almost invisible, and then there were the spots were all that kept the ragged shards together was too much glue, unevenly filling the wounds. Ugly and weak, easily broken apart again. On his really bad days Rael still feared that there were some small pieces of him irrevocably lost, never to be found again, sunken to the bottom of the sea and impossible to replace.

Barely audible, like a knife to Rael’s heart, the poor fever-dreaming Miqo’te whispered, „I‘ve missed you so much, Laqa.“

„No!“, Rael yelled almost angrily and threw themself at A’viloh’s chest protectively. „You can’t have him yet!“

It was ridiculous! Who were they even talking to? Instead they turned their pleading gaze to the Miqo’te’s feverish face.

„Please, A‘vi! Tell him that he has to wait a little longer… please… he would want you to live your life first, wouldn’t he?“

Of course A'viloh didn’t answer.

Desperately Rael buried their face in the Miqo’te’s shirt and started to sob. „Please don’t die. I cannot do this without you…“

***

The sea washed around his feet, then retreated again with a slight pull.

He couldn’t care less.

Everything he cared about was right here with him.

Arms as warm and comforting as the late afternoon sunlight wrapped tightly around him.

With his eyes closed, his head rested between Laqa’s shoulder and neck, he felt safe and at peace. He felt at home.

When had he last felt that way?

It didn’t matter anymore.

He would never have to let go of him again.

Vi…

this so familiar voice whispered as he pressed a kiss into his hair.

Slowly Laqa loosened his embrace and instead cupped A’viloh’s face gently with both of his hands.

It is time, Vi…

For a moment they just looked at each other, smiling, before their lips met halfway for a long kiss.

Finally Laqa pulled back a little and immediately A’viloh missed him again.

This hadn’t been enough. It would never be.

With a smile on his face Laqa rested his forehead against A’viloh’s.

You have to go now.

***

For days A‘viloh wandered between sleep and death, two things that sometimes looked horribly similar like only siblings could.

The fever had ebbed away and risen again but never completely left him alone.

Neither had Rael.

Day and night they had remained by A’viloh’s bedside, refusing to leave unless it was really necessary.

Alphinaud had brought food and water for them both and sometimes even Tataru had joined them for breakfast or for dinner. Every now and then Lord Haurchefant had brought tea as well. All of them had tried to cheer Rael up and also tried to convince them to get some rest. Both very unsuccessfully. Although they appreciated the effort.

When they were alone Rael talked to A’viloh. They felt a little crazy for this because they didn’t know if A‘vi was hearing any of this at all but still… they sat down on the bed beside him, held his hand in theirs and told him everything they had ever wanted to tell him.

How much they admired him for the person he was, despite everything. How much they had enjoyed traveling with him and also how much of the world they still hoped to show him. All the places Rael had visited on their journey and thought A‘vi would love. They told him how much they wished they could show him Golmore. They sang him the lullabies their mother used to sing for them and told him everything about their home and also about themself. About all the qualities they lacked and he possessed. About his kindness and how he so easily won over the hearts of everyone he met. About how Rael finally understood what it felt like to be as terrified as him. The fear and the guilt. How sorry they were for not seeing that he hadn’t been okay.

The thought that maybe against all of their efforts A'viloh simply didnt want to wake up again almost made them cry once more. In the end Rael lay there beside him with their head rested on A‘viloh’s chest. His heartbeat the only solace for their sorrow, a lullaby for their troubled mind, their tired eyelids almost closed.

„Wake up, A‘vi… Please. Just say something…“, they whispered a final plea.

Apart from the crackle of the fireplace and the wind rattling at the window the room was silent.

Almost asleep suddenly a quiet raspy sound startled them.

„…Rael?“

In surprise the viera shot up and indeed saw tired green eyes slowly squinting at them.

„What are you doing here?“, A‘viloh‘s voice asked hoarsely.

„A‘vi!“, Rael exclaimed in disbelieve and realised how stupid this must look. Hurriedly they jumped up, pretending to get him some water to hide how embarrassed they were. „How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Here! You should drink something! I‘ll go and ask for some soup too, you really need to -“

A’viloh chuckled and made them stop. Confused Rael turned around and looked at him cheekily grinning.

„What?“, they blurted out awkwardly.

The Miqo'te shook his head. „Nothing… Soup would be great, I think I am starving… and also thank you for worrying about me.“

„You are such an idiot, you know that?“, Rael asked while crossing their arms in front of their chest and staring at him in the best imitation of anger they could pull off.

A’viloh just laughed. This time Rael was wary to trust it.

Oh, they would give him quite a lecture! It was a good thing he couldn’t run off in his condition. But first they would get some food.

[babeygirlbuckley]

kinda tired of all these parent redemption arcs tbh. give chimney a gun

[thnksfrthmmrs]

i think millennials are the worst generation i’ve had to work with i’m so serious

[the-acid-pear]

Actually i just realized how effective was even the whole "whipping memory whole" thing for Harry if he still has fucking PTSD from the war? Like sure he'd have told his whole life and shit but to have such a strong reaction like that one review implies he had would require him actually remembering more than he should.

[endbeginning]

and if i said.... pet.er peve.nsie.....

[tommygotwrittenoff]

things i think buddie would argue about after moving in together: buying organic, the tupperware cabinet, couch throw pillows, the coffee maker

[fappellmoan]

anyway. i am going to be SO incredibly livid and angry and throwing an absolute tantrum on thursday if i dont get good feedback on my script.

[keroinnie]

i finally met my district manager today and i fucking hate him <3

[a-simple-spiders-oc-dump]

the sillies