#I've just been gone so long without any access to writing or even just looking at my stuff

[crowswardens]

Summary: A journal entry hastily scrawled by Lleyth after arriving at the Lighthouse.

codex series / [part one] / part two / part three

Fuck me. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I'm writing this now from someplace I never thought I'd be: The Fade. I've been to some odd places in my line of work— Maker knows Varric has taken me to places this past year alone that nobody back home would ever believe— but this? The realm of dreams, raw magic, demons, and the power behind just about every horrible thing you could ever think of? Yeah, this is not where I want to be right now.

How did we get here? How is it even possible to be here?

Physically. In the Fade! Sangre del Hacedor.

It appears to be an ancient Elven ruin of some sort, yet another dismal remnant of some mysterious probably-cursed shithole left behind by "my" people. It's not exactly homey— there's dust and cobwebs (Fade spiders?) and rubble and things like vines? Roots? Everywhere. Blocking off access to what I imagine are other rooms in these hallways. There are secrets in this place. It looks like it's seen war.

What did this place use to be? What happened to it? Again, how did we even get here? I'd ask Neve to explain it to me, but I know admittedly little about magic and mages beyond what is necessary to kill them, and my head hurts already without me trying to wrap my mind around the specifics of it.

But I can't lie and say that this place wasn't exactly what we needed when we needed it. Whatever happened at the ritual site, this place— the Lighthouse, if these ancient scrolls and notes laying around aren't ambitious works of fiction— seems untouched by any of it, and while I don't exactly romanticize the idea of setting up camp in a creepy shattered ruin in the Fade, it has the space needed to make proper fortifications. We can worry about supplies and comfort later. (If we live that long...)

I know I shouldn't look a gift refuge in the mouth, but I have to say: I don't like it. The air feels wrong here, heavy, charged— and if I think too hard about whether or not I'm actually breathing air, I get dizzy. The raw magic of this place makes my teeth itch and my fucking head is killing me, though Harding tells me the last part is likely because of my skull getting thrashed against stone during Solas's ritual. Pretty badly, or so I'm told.

Harding. Harding is injured, too. Just like Varric. Not as injured as Varric, but likely concussed or worse. I could do something for her if I still had my alchemy kit, but it's probably covered in a year's worth of dust back in my room at the Diamond. (That, or Viago sold it to keep the lights on in Villa de Riva while I was gone. Rompicazzo.) She needs to rest, but she's stubborn. She wants to get right back in the fight— I guess that makes two of us. It's my fault. This whole mess was my call. If I'd just told Harding to stay with Neve…

Better yet, if I'd convinced Varric to just shoot the bastard while we had the chance. His back was turned, we had a shot—

But I couldn't. I saw his eyes. He'd truly believed that Solas could be reasoned with, or at least he wanted himself to believe it. I wanted to believe him, but I knew this wouldn't go the way we wanted. It's never that easy anymore. I would know. I should know.

But I let him go anyway, didn't I? This is on me.

I guess I should say we're lucky to be alive. When I saw Solas— I guess I should say Fen'Harel's knife sink in, I thought… If I had just been a little faster

I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought. He's still here. We're all here, and that's what matters, for better or for worse…

Though I can't shake this feeling like I've forgotten something important, like some sort of itch I can't scratch. When I try to remember, to force myself to think about it, it hurts. It's like there's a hole somewhere in my head that I just can't reach. It could be a concussion— my ears are still ringing every now and again from the initial blast, and it's hard to concentrate, but there's no time to sit around and rest. I'll keep an eye on it and Harding in case it gets worse. Neve has enough on her plate without having to play nurse for three wounded idiots.

Still, it bothers me. If I did hit my head hard enough to forget something, how would I know? How would I remember that I forgot? What are you supposed to do when you forget that you've forgotten something? I suppose it doesn't matter now, and it doesn't help my headache.

For now, we have to press forward and assess the damage. Plan our next steps.

What a fucking mess. This whole time I thought Varric was shitting me when he said we were hunting an Ancient Elven God. Now, assuming Fen'Harel was telling the truth when he invaded my dream with blood magic, we're hunting two. Blighted ones. That's two blighted tyrannical gods that I, apparently, helped release. That's… a lot to take in.

Because that means… Fen'Harel? The Dread Wolf talking to me in my sleep? Real. And if one god of the Elven pantheon is real, that means the others are too, right? So… Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan? Blighted gods trying to end the world? Also real. Puta madre. Let this serve as a reminder to myself to never to let Varric introduce me to one of his "old friends" ever again. I've seen enough.

I'd say this is officially the worst contract I've ever been assigned, but that would be an understatement. Carajo, you hunt and try to kill one stupid god trying to end the world, and unleash two instead. I might officially be the worst fucking Crow in Antivan history. If I survive this shit, the Crows are going to kill me.

We're heading back to Arlathan soon to find out what we're dealing with. What we— what I unleashed on the world. With any luck, it's not as bad as I—

No. I think we're leagues past blind optimism. It's bad.

But we need to know how bad before we can come up with a plan. And if nothing else, maybe the scorched remnants of this journal will linger here for some other unlucky bastard to pick up where we left off.

(That reminds me, who left all of these notes and books here? And for what purpose? Investigate later, if still alive.)

— R.

[possuminabathtub]

hellooo just dropping in with some words, don’t mind me….

notice | scorch | touch | doubt | warm | reject

(obviously, feel free to choose any and all (and/or any iteration of these) that catch your fancy…happy writing!)

thank you, thank you! lovely words you've chosen

notice: (from The System of Pretending Everything is Fine)

“Declassification, Walker,” She explained as she worked, keeping her focus on her computer as Ava flickered into existence at her other side, peering over her shoulder. 

  “Are you stealing files from the US Military?” He asked, as if he wasn’t watching her do exactly that. 

  “Borrowing,” She corrected, “And it’s not nearly the worst thing I’ve done to the US Military, I promise. They won’t even notice they’re gone.” 

  Over her shoulder, Ava snorted, and Walker sounded as if he might blow a gasket. Or perhaps cartoon smoke would start pouring from his ears, that would’ve made a fun sight, she thought offhandedly. 

scorch: (I've found that I don't use the word scorch near often enough for how much I use fire metaphors and the word burn, I'll have to remedy that, but for now, here's a snippet from "It was just red" my largely unposted early Winter Soldier days fic)

 "Wonderful," The man said, taking a long look at all the machinery before turning back to the girl at the controls.

"Now,"

A brief pause, as the man glanced towards him, in the chair, and his skin crawled with the familiar urge to fit his metal hand around the column of the man's throat and turn it to pulp.

"Let's see it at work." 

   This had always been coming, since she had set foot in the room, he'd known in the back of his mind that this would be the result. He still felt dread settle like lead into his stomach, bile threatening to scorch his throat. It always ended the same, why would today be any different. 

   Another silent nod, protest dying a slow death in her throat as she turned her focus to the controls. Her fingers danced across the many knobs and dials and he forced himself to sit back as the two bulky pieces settled over his temples. Without a moment of hesitation, she pressed her index finger against a button, and the world exploded. 

touch: (from Souls Intertwined by Pride and Guilt)

 Apparently Wilson had showed up at the Tower and was looking for him. Odd, usually Wilson was there for Cap or Barnes, and he had the access to get there on his own. What did he want from Tony? 

  “Party crashing, Bigbird?” He asked as he stepped into the conference Friday had directed Wilson, “Not quite your style, and you’re really not dressed for it,” 

  “I wouldn’t touch one of your rich people parties with a ten foot pole, man,” Wilson said with a shake of his head, looking serious, “Nope, I’m here on business.” 

  “What kind of business?” Tony asked, dropping into one of the high backed rolling chairs and leaning back. 

  “The email kind,” 

  Tony’s stomach dropped and he sat up. 

  “Image and video file?”

warm: (from an original work that I've been keeping on the back burner, untitled at the moment)

The music was slow, warm, like liquid sunset pouring down her spine. So the dance should be slow too, swaying and warm and kind. It placed its hands lightly on his shoulders, and glanced down at his boots, nudging one with her own, into place. He began to move when prompted, and it appeared they’d picked the same dance, because the steps matched, moving together like a well paced sparring match. 

  The dance was simple, easy to get lost in the sweeping rhythm of. It was largely just fluid motion in time with the music, eventually making loose circles about the small clearing among the tables. When the music tapered off, one hand had migrated into his grasp, the other was placed on his lower back, where it could feel a dagger sheath hidden beneath clothing.

No doubt he could feel the same on her back, where his hand was resting almost protectively. His expression was perplexing, it decided as it looked back towards his face, his peaceful smile tainted by a twinge of sorrow that it couldn’t find the source of.

doubt: (from the same untitled original work as the warm snippet)

 Amsien was still smiling as the door fell shut behind her. Mila shot him a glance as she walked back towards their table where the half plate of piavi’s was no doubt cold. 

  “Mila?” Was all she said, arching an eyebrow, letting the mask slip just a degree as she sat back down. 

  “A perfectly respectable, sweet name.” He replied as he took his seat, glancing down at his empty bowl of stew, “You can change it, if you like.” 

  “No,” She picked up two of the cold piavi’s and dropped them into his empty bowl, “I think I’ll keep it,” she paused, considering, “Damir.” 

  “Well thank you, Milada,” He said with a smile that seemed almost genuine, almost mischievous. 

  “Eat your food.” 

[forgetmenotnympho]

𐔌 . ⋮ hi ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

jeremy allen white the man that you are!! love that he's one of the few male actors names I've committed to memory... i need to rewatch the bear

my pining warrior, he's holding himself together by a thread, n it's so looose,, you have to admit how hard it is to cook in a kitchen with this much tension. Seriously. knives are easily accessible.

tank yew to @bucketof for this idea!!

notes? : ̗̀➛

carmy x reader unfinished,,, posting because idk if i want to finish this !!! idk where to take it and what to do but maybe I'll come back to it bc i love carmy

perspective? : ̗̀➛

second

Carmy's curls, like always were slightly slick back, but messily tousled atop his head. His pale blue eyes were tired, he was lost in the depths of his own consciousness. He wanted to focus on writing down the ingredients of this new recipe, or the mounds of paperwork that patiently awaited his touch, his signature. The neverending paperwork. Goddamn. He just needed a

minute. That's all he asked for. A minute of your attention. It wasn't too big of an ask... was it?

You were right there. He could see you from his office. He purposely left the door open more than enough so he could see you work. See you work long after everyone else had gone home. The two of you weren't keeping each other company. Not really. It was so cold. The first minute Carmy tried to take with you, he backed off instantly. He watched you cut with trained patience and skill. Before he could say anything his focus quickly zeroed in on your hands and the knife. He felt honored to be able to cook in the same kitchen as you. Still, he always hesitated to admit what a great help you've been. Things were just different now. He needed to adjust.

"You're hovering, chef," you spoke without looking away from your work. His eyes followed you as you moved methodically through the scene, carefully tossing a pan of sautéed onions and peppers, thoughtfully rubbing down a slab of meat with different herbs and melted butter. When carmy didn't say anything, you continued. Your tone just as flat as before. If not more. "Am I doing something wrong, chef?" You asked, but it wasn't any sort of invitation for any sort of critique.

He shook his head mindlessly and slow before putting some thought behind it and dismissing that notion with more intention. "No-no, you're doing fine. Great, even I-"

"Great. Thank you, chef,"

[tenaciouschronicler]

June 5-9 2025 2010

First time in a long while I'm actually typing on my computer. I've been reading my old stuff and annotating it -accidentally very sassily.

Regardless, these updates have been verrryy..... slow? Not slow like bad, uh slow in the sense that we've been non-stop punch after punch, scene after scene with no time to breath. And now that we can we can really feel just how wound up and chaotic everything has been. Even if the pacing depends on real life time constraints, there's been so much buildup in the story to this moment from so many angles that now that its passed it feels odd? Even the narration change makes it obvious with the shorter sentences and repeated stucture. All the text follows two images -one a wider shot, the next and emphasized one- and it explains what we need to get out of them without letting us sit with the characters anymore than it deems necessary. It gives me a storybook feel and acts like a cutscene.

The first thing we get is another Game FAQ page from Rose; shes titled this passage ‘Rose: Egress’. Egress has two main meanings, the first is “the action of going out of or leaving a place”. This one along with her text explains some of her actions in Descend. Shes done. Absolutely done.

I am not playing by the rules anymore. I will fly around this candy-coated rock and comb the white sand until I find answers. No one can tell me our fate can’t be repaired. We’ve come too far. I jumped out of the way of a burning fucking tree, for God’s sake.

She’s taking matters into her own hands. So incensed she is that she breaks from her normal writing pattern and displays her emotions openly. It’s a little bittersweet, and I’m worried of her cutting off communication with the others.

The second meaning of egress is a tech term involving the flow of communication data. As her last act she ‘[has] used a spell to rip this walkthrough from Earth’s decaying network’, stored it in a Derse-branded server and let the Gods disperse it to any and all life that my also be doomed to play this game. Its likely this is how the initial connection to the trolls came about, long before they had access to this session.

We get to see the completion of some storylines.

The warweary calls another broken planet home, another cloth his garb. Land and rags fit for the wayward.

A villein becomes vagabond.

WV is lost. I think he truly thought he could make a difference for his brethren. Now the lone survivor -and how does that feel to be left alive- he's lost the rage that fueled him. On the battlefield his last action is to rip the head off of the Jack doll. ACURSED MASCOT that it is, the fact we've seen it portray Jacks state makes me wonder how and when Jack will suffer the same. Johns blanket flutters down forming the first connection between them. The fight gone and nothing changed, he wanders.

John has made it to Skaias surface and found Jade. We get confirmation that she is indeed dead. If in Descend John looked confused, John now looks sad. His frown isnt as exaggerated as we've seen and I find that sadder. He gets the ring from Jades hand for reasons unknown. After that he sees his first cloud vision and makes his way to that area of Skaia. Given that these panels happend after 'the recent past is recalled' command, we can understand that WVs and Johns actions are happening around the same time. Unlike with PM however, their paths arent destined to cross yet.

A mistress becomes a mendicant.

At the same time on Skaia we see why PM didn't show in the flash. She was too busy battling it out with HB, successfully killing him. Shes filled with just as much rage as Rose is, using the walkie to get this whole quest over with. Jack flies to her location and has CD exchange the package. I think hes perhaps a bit surprised PM managed to fulfill her part but in a maliciously gleeful sort of way. He may not be fully aware of how PM got those crowns but to him at least her sense of duty to her 'purpose' was far greater than her loyalty to the royals. There's also the underlying thought that he's the only one with power confirmed in his eyes. Him handing over the package makes sense. I think hes someone who doesn't like to be indebted to others and even less so to someone he sees as a pawn. With that PM has no more purpose in his eyes and the next time they might meet he'll have no reason to not get rid of her. John has flown over to the location revealed to him and PM spots him, still full of anger.

The mail is delivered. An obligation, satisfied.

There's alot that can be said about the exact words used for our exiles new names. Vagabond, someone who wanders without a place to call home. Mendicant, a chosen way of life rejecting the material to serve their faith in service of others.

I feel WV is an exile of circumstance while PM is a chosen exilement to atone for what shes done. In the past, fresh from the battle, she no longer feels the same joy for her duty after everything its caused. Its not until the future, and perhaps Skaias influence, that she gains a love of mail again. Even meeting WQ, I don't think she ever believed shed be crowned a hero. Perhaps shes come to terms with her actions and was prepared for punishment, only to receive acclaim.

The package is opened. Letters, read.

So many pages later and after so much destruction, John finally gets his gift.

The first letter is from an unknown sender, Jades penpal apparently. An interesting fellow with the weirdest use of British vernacular who rambles way more than anyone so far. The best we can glean, aside from having sendificator access, he might also be a player. How and when he and Jade started talking is unknown but supposedly Johns gonna meet him someday. Much like Jade, hes not good at explaining things but for him I think its less not trying to tell the future and more hes just like that. The second page has the list of gifts though its cutoff:

Royal Deringer

Quills of Echidna

???? Crosshairs

Jades also left a letter and it hurts to read. Here we see just how human Jade is even with her Skaian given future dream powers.

...i really hope this present

cheers you up! you looked so sad while you were reading my letter.

[...]

i dont see everything john, and i definitely dont know everything thats going to happen. but when i do know something, i always try to do my best to help people in the future! when im supposed to that is. youll get the hang of it.

Maybe its Skaia being selective to not give away the game (ha), but Jade can only see so much. At the time of writing she couldn't have known Johns sadness comes at her death. And she even goes on about how excited she is to meet him and show him around and finally meet her friend...

John cries.

Its not the same as when he did after his first Con Air reenactment; only a single tear as that frown continues to mar his face. Its a different sadness, a deeper one where you feel the ache in your soul that tells you the hurt will never go away. There's no way to find release from it as much as a full on bawl could seem to help.

John cant even begin to try processing the grief as a sword is pointed in his face. Jack is here for the ring but hes miscalculated. The present emerges from the box. Another bunny -the same one that has passed through so many hands and so many lives- outfitted with robot tech and the weapons from the letter. Each weapon matches to the kids chosen strife specibus: needles, a hammer, a gun, a broken sword. Combine this with the fact the bunny was Daves gift to John, Roses beloved heirloom, patched up and sent with Jade.

John must feel so alone. His dad has been missing since hes arrived here. He has no clue what hes doing in this game. Hes woken up to find his friend dead. And yet in front of him he as an amalgamation of his friends love. A reminder that together they are stronger. That they are not alone.

Check.

[likegemstone]

OMG OMG OMG Y'ALL an update on the Patreon Deactivated My Account Without Warning saga, one that makes the whole thing simultaneously more hilarious and more infuriating

For those who don't know: I write a serialized novel called Her Broken Magic which I post online for free on tapas and royal road, and I had a Patreon where patrons could read it early access and see exclusive content, but a few weeks ago my account got deactivated for violating Patreon's guidelines. I had not previously received any kind of warning or anything like that, they just nuked my whole account.

I sent them an email asking if they could tell me which post(s) violated their guidelines and exactly what about the post(s) was against the guidelines. I honestly didn't expect them to respond and was surprised when they did. But.

The response had a link to the "public post" that they said violated their guidelines, but uh. My account had been deactivated so the link took me to a page that just said "this account had been removed" which cleared nothing up lmao.

In that same email, they said this (I'm going to put this under a cut simply because of the language it uses, terms referring to SA):

Valid, right? If I had written something glorifying those things, it would make total sense that Patreon wouldn't want to have that on their site. But I of course would never do that, certainly not intentionally. HBM does include themes surrounding these topics, mention and discussion of them, imagery referring to these topics, etc. Never in explicit or glorifying ways. The vast majority of the time it's just implied with no details given at all, and the story always condemns this kind of behavior.

So I was initially upset because I thought either someone misinterpreted the intention of the story, or more likely ("more likely" because I doubted anyone at Patreon actually took the time to read a long-ass story on an account that had all of one patron) they just wanted to take down any content including these topics at all even if it didn't actually "glorify" those topics.

But then I reread the email and noticed something about the quotations they included referring to what got the account deactivated. "Coerced sexual content" and "Sexual manipulation". I realized something.

Take a look at the list of content warnings that I put for Episode 5, scene 14:

See the second and third from the bottom? That's the exact quotations they used—not just the same terms, but the exact capitalizations I used.

And that's when I realized that, most likely, no one had actually read the story. A bot probably flagged those terms, and then my account was deactivated. Not for the content of the story—but because of the content warnings that I put on the story. If I hadn't bothered to put any warnings, it probably wouldn't have gotten flagged, and I'd still have a Patreon account. It was also confusing because the email said it was a "public post" but that scene hadn't even gone live for the early access yet, much less gone public, but I just kinda moved past that.

Now, since all that happened like a week and a half ago I have been annoyed but honestly not surprised, and I've just been thinking about other ways I could possibly monetize HBM. I accepted it and moved on.

But this Friday (the 17th of May) Episode Five scene 14 will be going up on Tapas and Royal Road, and I was thinking I might just un-schedule that scene since it's the one that got my Patreon deactivated. If even just the content warnings got me kicked off Patreon, sharing the actual scene might do the same on the other sites—and that's when I realized.

I don't put the content warnings on the scenes, I put a full list of content warnings for that episode as its own post, and on scenes that have sensitive or potentially upsetting content, I put a reminder to check the post with the content warnings before reading it. So. The post that they took the quotations in that email from, the post that got my account deactivated. wasn't the story at all

It was the post that just had the content warnings on it. The content warnings and the pronunciation guide.

I don't bother to make that post exclusive to patrons, so it was a "public post." I would have realized this earlier except that link they sent me took me to a Nothing page. This company with a shitty logo for a face and bots for hands nuked my whole account not for violating their guidelines by "glorifying" sexual manipulation and coerced sexual content, but for saying the words "sexual manipulation" and "coerced sexual content."

I can't even be a patron for other people on that site anymore because of this.

Is that not just. hilarious in the worst way.

[ciminarin]

wfh job means wfa (working from anywhere), the best for a girlblogger thought daughter like me.

as someone who works remotely, i love how i can be literally everywhere as long as i have my devices and can deliver my work on time. i have went on holidays multiple times while still working and it's the best thing ever lol. the work-life balance is definitely balancing. this post will be about my experience, pros and cons!

now playing... ▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||| 2:58 | NEMONEMO by YENA

ᯓ★ let's talk about the pros!!

i can take breaks at any time i want, have my breakfast or lunch at any time without anyone micromanaging me. the next best thing is i can just be myself without worrying how other people perceive me at work. no worrying if i looked bad or if the way i sit, stand or walk is not 'ladylike' i can do wtv tf i want.

i can take naps. like LONG naps. it's heavenly.

i don't have to get ready to work. i literally wake up and go on my laptop. i can do anything before i start too, like playing with my cats, exercise, and never be late for work. how can i be late? i only need to log in on gathertown (a site/app where you can be in the office with your co-workers, in pixel game style) when my work hour start. lol

i'm literally at a cafe rn as i'm typing this. like i said, you can be anywhere as long as you have the money haha

can watch kdramas, movies or horror podcast during work. awesome.

more time to take care of yourself. i have been trying to get back to my self care era after my mental health deteriorated so bad because of my last job. when i say bad, i mean like REAL bad. my self esteem is just gone. i keep trying to find my old self again but i keep getting more and more anxious. by getting into wfh job, i can focus on this side of me more and hopefully be able to feel like myself again.

ᯓ★ now the cons.

it can get boring sometimes because you're stuck at home. i get too lazy to even get ready and go out even though i know i can be anywhere. the library suddenly feels so far away, resulting me to just stay home. this can go on for days.

yeah more time for self care.. but also more time to be lazy. because it's a desk job i don't be moving around anymore unless i want to. and unless i have the motivation.. i will just lay down on my bed.

backaches from sitting too long. leg too.. and my whole body basically.

unless i do intermittent fasting, i WILL eat uncontrollably. having access to unlimited free time and food can make me gain weight AAAHHHH

more money out since i keep buying fancy drinks and food now as i have too much free time... this is a self control problem i know. this is on me.

okay i definitely have more pros & cons but i can't just think of more as of rn. maybe next time i will write part 2 if there is anything i want to add!

ᯓ★ what about my previous job?

it was a shift food & beverage job and it was... an experience i guess (i never want to go back again) i would rather just be a customer damn. i never thought i would ever feel this much anxious feeling until i got into f&b. the first few months was kind of fun and okay-ish, but after that it was hell. at some point i couldn't breathe at work and literally had to go to the clinic to get checked during my work hour.

the way people interact during work was something.. in front of them they play along and laugh together, but behind they talk bad about each other. it got me thinking that they definitely had talked badly about me too, and this made me anxious. ngl, i've been a people pleaser for so long (now i recognize that it can be really bad doing this) so i want everyone to like me.

this also made me think that maybe, other people i know outside work also do this to me? i became anxious of every single interaction i do, offline or online. i keep thinking that maybe even my friends don't like me...

i have now realized that i do not have to be liked my everyone. maybe this people pleasing behaviour is based on my trauma, so i have a really hard time to unlearn this. like what do you mean someone don't like me when i have been nothing but nice to you? you don't even know me that well... i'm so sad

but it has to be stopped. i can't just be out there trying to seek validation from people who are not worth my time. it's hard, but everyday i have to remind myself that there are literally so many people who like and love me for who i am.

i got a fiancé and he's the best ever. i have great friends who like how weird i can get, how loud, how annoying i am. they love me because they want to. and i love them because i want to. and i need to remember that there will be people that dislike me just because they want to, and i don't have to do anything about it.

slowly learning the art of letting them be.

────୨ৎ────

end of log. this was cut short as i need to go now, but thank you for reading, see you next time!

[phleb0tomist]

hi there, hope ur having a good day/evening/night! im currently writing my college dissertation about accessible tourism and was wondering what was your experience with it: have you ever gone on a holiday and had to had accomodations prepared for you? if so, what kind of accomodations? if not, what sort of accomodations would be necessary for you to go out on a holiday? please excuse me if i'm too straightforward, it's just an interesting topic i've been thinking about for the past 3 months and it reminded me of you.

thank you for reading!

hi! oo interesting subject. good luck with your dissertation!! I’ll just blurt out some thoughts, idk which parts may be of interest but here we go :)

travel is hard and weird for me but i attempt it anyway! whilst my family and i always do extensive organising and checking before travel, a lot of the things hotels/airports promise us end up falling through, so we have to accept in advance that accommodations will not always work out. often we book an accessible room but then arrive to find it has steps or bulky furniture which blocks me from moving thru the room in my chair. c’est la vie

as for the specific arrangements we make… when i go anywhere i need 1-2 carers close by, so we get adjoining rooms. we call ahead to confirm that any place we’re staying is accessible and ideally has a wetroom. a lot of hotels/apartments purport to be accessible but then my wheelchair doesn’t actually fit into the bathroom. for my health condition i need to block out daylight, so we look at pics of the rooms online to make sure they have long curtains/blinds that fully close, or we call the place to ask. I legit will not go somewhere with flimsy decorative curtains ! i also can’t use overhead lights, I only use lamps (they’re dimmer & more diffuse), so if a place doesn’t appear to have dim/adjustable lamps then I won’t go. other things that are helpful to have in the room: kettle to make hot water bottles (i use them round the clock), and fridge to store liquid food for when I can’t eat regular stuff.

for car/auto travel there needs to be enough space for me to lie down in the back of the vehicle, with cushions to support me. this is possibly illegal 😻 but if i wasn’t able to do that then i couldn’t really leave my home at all, so idc. (in a magical accessible world we’d have a vehicle with a stretcher with seatbelts or smth, but this is too expensive). this sometimes means we need to use multiple vehicles despite there only being 4 of us because I take up the entire backseat of the car :/

for plane travel we prebook special assistance, which is basically mandatory if you’re a wheelchair user in an airport but it’s quite hassley and often adds an extra hour to our time at the airport bc of staffing delays and miscommunications etc. any time that we’re not actively moving through the airport, i lie down across benches (or on a blanket on the floor if needs be) in the most private areas we can find. ideally there would be a stretcher available to minimise time spent upright without making me lie in weird places but this has never been an option. but that would make travel 100x easier for me. i also have to use either an ambulift (awful👎) or tunnel (awesome👍) to get onto the plane, and an aisle chair once I’m on the plane. these require booking.

this stuff is all pretty specific to me personally, i hope it’s still an interesting perspective!

[dee-morris]

Buckle Up, It's a Time Travel Theory

I've been thinking about this for months in a not serious way, then for weeks in a slightly serious way, and now I. Kind of think I know how it could work.

The problem with time travel is that is an OP deus ex machina in a world with OP characters and it would break the universe if it were introduced. Time Travel pretty much only works in a universe that is a complete comic book like Doctor Who. Good Omens is a comedy that plays fast and loose with reality and physics and even consistency, but it's not quite on Doctor Who's level in that regard. Nothing is, really.

But here me out.

@sayuri-of-the-valley and I were chatting yesterday and she pointed out an inconsistency in the Edinburgh minisode. At the beginning of the journal entry he says "last month" as if it all just happened, and then at the end he concludes with "it was the last I was to see of Crowley for quite some time."

Doesn't add up, right? A month is nothing to immortal beings. And I said (as I have said repeatedly since the end of July) "If this were any other writer but Gaiman I'd say we're overthinking and it's a simple error." But we know him better than that.

So I'm thinking, maybe he had two diaries, or maybe he added to it later. And then I remembered the Metatron saying something like, I've examined your exploits through history... Etc etc etc. So I'm thinking, he means the Earth observation files, he peeked at some footage. But the phrasing was weird, imo. He didn't just say, I've looked at our old files. He acted like he'd actually watched it happen in real time.

So what if.

There's a mechanism in those files that you can access if your rank is high enough that allows you to visit the past in person?

If it were possible to actually change things then the story would be broken. Metatron could have done it at any time and pop goes the weasel. But what if our rules lawyer Angel, who can find a work around for any scenario that will allow him to do what he wants and still follow heaven's instructions, found a way to leave clues without actually changing anything by adding to his journals?

It would have been very unsafe for Aziraphale to write every detail of that episode when it happened, so what if he mentions the statue as a humorous aside and nothing else... But later he goes back and finishes the story?

That incident is important to the larger story, I'm convinced of it. The Resurrectionist Pub, Dalrymple, that stuff is important. What if present day Aziraphale is leaving clues for Muriel or Crowley to find in the bookshop while he's gone?

I have more thoughts about Crowley in that episode carrying books around and tossing them everywhere but this is already too long so I'll save it for another time.

[raayllum]

Opeli and Claudia for bingo?

I love Opeli more than is probably warranted given her role/actual screentime, but I'm always a slut for "pov adjacent to the main cast but without context" / "the remaining people who are alive/around to remember the castle kids growing up" perspective so it's really no surprise that I love her. When I wrote a oneshot about her and Callum's potential bond they'd only exchanged like 3 words, and now into arc 2 they've had multiple conversations and I feel so spoiled. I also really love her dynamics with the rest of the dragang. I think someone who wholeheartedly devotes themselves to the concept of the Crown but also has to deal with the political and personal (more than she ever expected) of that reality is super interesting, and I love the way she provides easy excuses for religious worldbuilding, which is one of my faves to write.

I'm both an aroace Opeli and a post war aged up Sorpeli endgame truther though - so fanon really is the best of both worlds <3

[ Black Xs represent squares don't apply to Claudia that might otherwise look circled. ]

I feel like a lot of the reasons I adore Claudia is how opposite she is to Opeli in a lot of ways, strangely enough? (Upon reflection.) Like she grows up in the castle but clearly has very limited loyalty to the actual king and royal family (bc they're royal) because one of the first things we learn about her is that she's been lying to them. Her loyalty is first and foremost to her family/her father and watching the sliding scale of people she cares about go from friends to obstacles to enemies she's willing to enjoy (with the added bonus of she and Callum having once been technical love interests) is just... so fun? But also she makes me so sad. I don't think there's any reality where dark magic exists and she has access to it that can end happily for her, and she is still going to take her sweet time seeing just how much it's destroyed her and hitting that rock bottom to hopefully start clawing her way up.

She's a character I've written a lot of ways in various fics/divergences - an adoptive sister to Rayla, a strained but long term love interest to Callum, Aaravos' puppet, breaking free of her dad of her own accord for better and/or for worse, as a dark mage, a primal mage, etc. I've killed her and I've written her redemption arc more than once. It's also been super satisfying to see her steady decline over the seasons as the "she's a cute goofy goth girl" read she generally got in the initial fandom post-s1 felt boring and shallow (it was always deeply clear to me there was something wrong with her lmao) so I do think fandom conversation surrounding her as a character has only gotten better, more accurate, and more interesting as the show has gone on (even if sometimes people don't have enough sympathy for her perspectives and choices). That all said I do think no matter where TDP leaves her as a character in the final season, I'll always write towards and imagine an ultimately happy ending for her with the soft boi of my choice

[joshay98]

Just gonna put this under here. It's a lot of feelings just being poured out. It's also rather long winded.

Intrusive thoughts have been constantly winning the battles this week.

All the evidence in reality points in the opposite direction but my brain still thinks: "Nah, Nah. It's like this instead!"

Feelings of being inadequate. Not deserving this. At the brink of losing them. All alone again.

I've stressed myself out for no reason at all and I know exactly I shouldn't be behaving like this. But the thoughts just won't stop!

And as I'm writing this I'm still thinking that this is purely because I try to solicit a reaction. But that's maybe what I want? Just one of them telling me that they still want to be there?

I'm not even certain any of them will read this. If I really wanted to keep it from them then I would've screamed on Blusky instead or just not at all.

Yet here I am just being a selfish prick that clings too hard. Am I too clingy? Feels like I get jealous too easiely. Envy makes one do stupid things. The stress won't be helping with some lashing out either.

Why though? They are not gone. Quite the opposite. But then I always think that if I'm not making them aware that I exist 24/7 then it feels like they are drifting away. But they are not. This is just a me thing.

And yet I've build this imaginary wall between. I'm both its builder and demolitionist. I'm in a genuine fight with myself and I don't know how to win.

Why do I try to seperate myself if I want to be there? Why do I feel like I don't belong there when I'm in the middle of it?

This is stupid. Why am I thinking stupid thoughts? I know reality is pointing one way but my brain refuses to accept that. I know these aren't things people normally think. So why me then? What's different?

Maybe I just need to cry? I don't remember when the last time was where my heart ached this much. A feeling I knowingly put on myself. I don't know when the last time was when I genuinely cried.

Emotions have been only building up. I try to not let my problems be other's problems. "Put a smile on your face! Make them laugh! They have their own troubles so you should be there to make them forget for at least a moment!" Maybe it's my turn? Have they not brought a smile on my face the entire time? They have! Or am I being selfish again and desire more?

Jealousy is definitely a part in this. I don't have a PC for 3+ years now. And seeing that they get to enjoy each other's company with co-op games is building something up in me. Wrath? Envy? I'm happy that they get to play together! I just really wish I was part of it as well.

Maybe there is an actual wall? But I doubt me getting access to a proper PC would resolve things. A mere bandaid for a gashing wound. Yet I still long for more company like that.

DnD has been a good substitute for now. I always look forward to mondays. And the longer the session, the better I feel over the week. And the letters have been nice distractions. Sometimes. This week's letter has been gnawing on me, though. I will bring it out. They are not the problem here.

I know they will read this. Probably. Is me saying this being manipulative? I don't want to make them feel like I'm unthankful. I wish I could say more than just"thank you." I wish I could do more than just sit there and give some half-hearted commentary.

I'm definitely too much sometimes. I know I have an obnoxious personality. I let them know that they can always stop me if I'm being too much. Yet it feels like they bite their tounges, not to be rude to me. But I won't know unless they do tell me. I won't become a better person without someone to guide me.

I want criticism! I can't improve without it! I know it will hurt my heart but it's only temporary. If I can somehow be better...

I shouldn't be saying this out on the internet. But I don't know where else I could say it. My fears take such a hold that I can't willingly approach anyone to talk about this. But the internet is not a place to ask for advice either. Especially when it comes to emotions.

I'm not even sure why I got all this verbose. This is not like me normally.

I'm just really in my little corner.

[cobi-4056]

explaining

hi bel! i'll write some of my (very personal) thoughts here. i think it's easier for me to lay down my ideas this way because i'm not embarrassed of getting too sad about them. i hope i'll be able to flesh them out like this on the next few days too. basically, i came up with these sketches a few days ago, and now that i looked at them to write this i realized they work pretty well for the stages of grief that people talk about - that's the introduction, concept-wise. as for the visual aspect, i think i'd really like to make them very high-contrast - very few grays, clear borders, white background/black subject.

bath - denial; this is the first place i remember visiting when lio died. i didn't know what to do, so i sat under cold water for god knows how long - i dont remember if i was crying, i think my thought process was that cold water would take me away from the moment. in the same vein, i also ate a shit ton of ice to try and ground myself. for me, it makes sense for this to be the first photo in the series - my feet, some bugambilla petals on the bath, and maybe some water (if i can figure out how to do that without my camera being at risk!) - a lonely moment where all i can do is stare.

hands / eyes - anger; these are two ideas i have. the first one, hands, is meant to be pretty gestural (is that a word in english?), it represents the few outbursts i've had in a more physical sense. anger has been rare in my grief, and it's never been directed at lio. my hands are the first thing accessible to my view, so i've hurt them more than once during these episodes. for the picture, i'd use black food colouring - some of it dripping down my hand, to evoke blood. for this idea to work i need some kind of rig for my camera or someone to take this picture for me once i've framed it. the second one is a bit more abstract, more like the collage-y feel i had in mind originally - my eyes looking in different directions, all aiming at a bugambilla flower, possibly with inverted colors. it represents my first instinct when anything goes wrong now: go outside, search for lio, hope this is one of the days where he'll actually show up in the symbols i've made up for him, and specifically the moments where i don't find him in them. i'd look for a way to make it feel frantic, desperate.

cake - depression; the only food i ate for the first three days with lio gone. it was so easily accessible, so ready to be just... eaten, it was the thing that kept me fed for the first few days. for me its a symbol of how empty everything felt. i didn't put in any effort to eat it either, i didn't even have to find a plate for it - so i think it represents the deppressing part of this well. i used to be way more into food, sugar, all of it - but his death made everything feel pointless. this wouldn't be a flattering picture of a cake, it would just be there.

bed - bargaining; arguably the place i dislike the most, but also my safe space. this is where lio and i talked, and this is where i lay to think about how shitty it is to have your best friend die. what i relate this place to is my thoughts - good, bad, neutral, they all happen here. if i'm in bed, i have nothing else to do other than think. this is why i'm having trouble pining down something specific about this place - too much goes on here to know what i want to do. still, one of the stronger images is this: my body, so still, in a bare bed. it could be like the sketch i posted here, or something more like a closeup of my face deep in thought. it's a bit awkward to do self-portraits and my room is super small, so i'm probably going to do several versions of this one and some tests.

branches / plant - acceptance; here's something funny: i hated the idea of looking at these plants at first. one of the first things i wrote when lio died was, Hay una bugambilia en mi jardín, y no quiero verla porque necesito sentir que está en algo más que la idea que me hice de él. sorry about the spanish, i didn't think it would be productive to translate that. anyway, now that almost two months have passed, i've grown to love them more and more. these little fuckers are on every garden, and they make me feel so connected to him. i like that they're common. it feels like receiving a text from him, and i like that they drop so many leaves - even when you're walking with your head down, you know there's one of these nearby. they're impossible to miss. this last picture will be tricky - there's a very clear visual mood i have, so i'll have to look for a composition that doesn't make the black look like these experiments i did earlier - i could also take the inverted approach, but that might be too abstract for this series, jarring, maybe.

there's also the possibility of using their shadow. i'd have to keep a keen eye on the weather, though - the light has to be in a very specific position for this shot to come through.

sketches

i also like the empty bugambilla branches against the sky - with the visual mood of the series, it might be a good addition. emptiness within the symbol.

and since im sharing some of the pictures ive taken, here's two of my favorites. terrible phone quality, still very pretty. i shot them less than a week after lio died - ive pavloved myself into recognizing this shade of purple from really far away. another side effect of this is that i dont mind walking now, since there seems to be bugambillas in 2 out of every 5 gardens.

[weeapplelover]

@that-vigilante-piedpiper I had an idea for Pied Piper but it was too long for an ask so here it is in writing, and I hope you enjoy!

like the idea of a civilian coming up to Piper and convincing him to answer one of their questions. He agrees, as long as the answer wouldn't expose his identity.

He isn't ready for the civilian to ask why he became a vigilante.

He takes a deep breath and starts his story after leading the person to a bench so they could sit down.

He explains how he had wanted to be a hero ever sence he saw All Mights debut video. How he thought saving people was the coolest thing someone could do. So, like many children, he grew up wanting to become a hero. And he still did, despite how many people grew out of it, despite the amount of people who told him he couldn't do it, he never did. No matter how dangerous it was for him, it would be worth it to see the people he saved smile.

When he applied for the hero school he had always dreamed about going to, they rejected him without letting him even take the exam. It sent him into a deep depression. He went out running one day, not really knowing what he was doing, and he ran into someone who needed to be saved. That act of vigilantizm that was normally just a good civilian taking action helped him realize that if he wanted to save people, he would have to do it illegally, and hero work was the only job for him.

So that led to his first fight, then another, and another and eventually he got a name, and then an addition to the name, and now he was a famous vigilante. At this point he started crying happy tears. The sitting civilian puts their phone against the wall to record them hugging so she wouldn't have to edit the video that much later.

Piper says goodbye, and goes on his way as the civilian ends the recording and contemplates posting it. They decide to wait until they meet piper again to ask. Probably going to be weird, but nevertheless, people have been dying to know Pied Piper's backstory for a while.

She meets Piper again, this time after he had just saved her from a dude looking to mug her, and she figures now is as good a time as any to ask.

"Uh, do you remember me? You told me your reason for becoming a vigilante, and I was wondering if it was okay because you got kinda emotional and I didn't want to make you feel like I betrayed you or something by posting your feelings online..."

"Oh, I kinda actually expected you to."

"What?"

"Yeah, I thought you posted it and people just didn't find it interesting or you didn't tag it correctly or something." He shrugged. "I get emotional a lot, and yeah, it's kinda personal but I talked with someone about it and they said it was my choice and the media has been dying to know anyway so why not. I've had time to prepare." Was all he said before he climed up the building and escaped, probably pausing sometime during his buliding-hopping to call the police to her area, because they arrived shortly after she posted the video with doubt in her mind.

About a day later the media blew up with Piper. The video the person had posted was titled, "Piper's Backstory, asked by a fan" and was trending. It was about 7 hours after it was posted that the police found it. The whole office had gone completely silent to hear Piper's story.

The hero commission wasn't any different. They had the video playing on the begscreen TV, haws was present as well, listening to every word and sheding a tear when the person recording gave a hug to Piper, which was returned.

The comment section of the video was filled with support, letting the vigilante know everyone loved him and that he was a hero in their hearts no matter what any hero schools or even the commission said, if Piper was even able to get access to the comment section of the video.

Reo was scrolling through his YouTube when he saw the video, reposted and credited by the account that updated anything anyone posted on Piper. He went to the original link to find the original comments. He showed Izuku when he git back in from patrol, obviously nervous and jittery and an hour early.

Izuku cried. He mumbled something through his tears about people being so nice to him when he was a vigilante and how people were so supportive of him saving people and he cried until he fell asleep.

Naomasa noticed an absence of Piper activity that night, and, though relieved, he decided to research the video. Maybe it had something to do with that?

The next morning it was on the news. Midoriya Inko couldn't help but feel familiarity to the story, and Izuku had a sleepover at his friend's house last night (she wished he would warn her about these things) so she couldn't ask him.

Naomasa had found out that the girl that had posted the video had it in her possession for about 2 weeks before posting it because she wanted to ask if it was okay. Anyway, he had just got a Piper sighting and was hoping to catch him this time. Maybe he could be made an official hero if he could convince the hero commission.

Maybe the kid could live a better life.

[onceupona-chaos]

Feathers and dawn (part II)

Day 18 of Elriel month/ Teach me how to fly

You can read part I here.

"Spread your wings." 

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest, his hands tightened on her waist, and her body went cold and hot all at once.

This time Elain did stop breathing. 

WC: 4164/ Warnings: Language

(I had so much fun writing this! As usual, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos as well, but I can't look at it anymore lol)

Elain had held that light inside of her with everything she got, and even so it came close to controlling her rather than the other way around.

She still could feel it, not the light that shone so bright to blind someone's eyes, but more like a gracious flame of a candle in her chest. But that was nothing compared to how the muscles on her back burned.

When her eyes cracked open, she was half expectant that all of it had been a delirious dream or one of those visions that still hunted her from time to time. But then she tried to move to a sit position, and a scream escaped from her throat at the very, very real pain punishing her upper body.

Her entire back was sore, and she could feel a complex extension of muscles - from her neck to the end of her spine - that was now linked to two massive weights coming out of her shoulder blades.

Excruciating, blinding pain.

Elain didn't notice the tears falling down her cheeks, couldn't even hear the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

Strong, calloused hands were pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead a second later, and then Azriel’s beautiful face was there.

He was like a hiding spot in the middle of a storm, anchoring her from her agony, even though his expression was contorted in worry.

Azriel's eyes were wild, lips forming her name, but she couldn't hear a sound. Pain was all she knew, making her senses numbed.

Black dots started to dance in front of her eyes, her head getting light, and hazel ones full of terror was the last thing she saw before the world bleed into darkness again.

_______________

The next time Elain emerged to consciousness, first she smelled the leafy odor of salvia. Then the feeling of gentle, experienced hands massaged the line of her spine while she was lying on her stomach.

Heavy eyelids opened to the Velaris sunset, shades of pink and purple coloring the blue sky were visible through the familiar floor to ceiling windows, making her recognize her room in the river house.

Elain caught a movement from the corner of her eyes, and she inclined her head slightly to see Azriel, kneeling beside her bed, worry still printed in his face, but his eyes filled with relief now.

His hair was in complete disarray, the dark locks pointed in different directions as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly.

“You’re awake,” he breathed.

Those hands, unfamiliar hands, were still rubbing her exposed back, the gentle touch soothing the pain.

“That’s Majda, she’s almost finishing.” Azriel must have sensed her confusion. “How’s the pain?”

Her mouth was dry and it was an effort just to make words come out of it. “Tolerable” she said, voice raw.

He just nodded and then they fell in a comfortable silence. It was always like this with him - no need for empty words.

Azriel just stayed there in his vigil, shadows curling around his ankles, watching her with those familiar hazel eyes. Not the blazing gold of Cassian's, but rather an embrace shared between warm brown and stark gray, with hues of emerald green that would stand out according to his mood.

Eyes as complex as Azriel's himself, candidly observing her whilst Majda worked, her hands putting the exact amount of pressure to soothe her muscles, the salvia tuning the sharp pain into a dull ache. She didn't touch Elain's wings.

Wings.

Even with their weights on her back, even with the feeling of that warm power in her chest, Elain still was prone to believe it all had been a dream if it wasn't for the pain.

When Majda finished the healing massage, she merely told them she'd come back the next few days to do it again.

The bedroom’s door clicked shut, and Elain was already trying to get up, Azriel immediately protesting, "You should stay in bed.”

"I want to see them" was her only reply. She needed to see, to look at them. To know they were real.

"Your muscles aren't strong enough to support the new weight -"

Indeed, when she tried to stand, her balance wavered and she toppled forward.

Azriel caught her before she could fall on her face, hauling her up. Gently, one of his hands passed behind her knees, the other around her waist, and he scooped her up.

Elain let her head fall against his chest, breathing his scent as he walked through the room. A few moments later, far more than was necessary to reach her mirror, he put her down, but remained close.

She didn't see her pale face or even care about the fact that she was wearing nothing, but a nightgown that reached the middle of her thighs. Not when two massive wings rested on the floor behind her, the soft, white feathers touching the carpet.

Elain turned around to see her back, to see the point where the skin ended and the feathering began.

They were beautiful.

But she never had felt more unworthy of something. She couldn’t even hold them up, couldn't even lift them from the ground. It had been so exhausting spent months trapped in that murky realm, visions blending together with reality, that she hadn’t want find out what else the Cauldron had given her, hadn't want to touch that flame burning in her chest, not when her own body felt foreign and now -

Only when she felt tears dripping onto her chest, Elain realized she was crying, exhaustion falling upon her as a blanket, covering her to the bones.

She stood there for enough time that the next time Azriel spoke, she had almost forgotten he was there.

Almost.

Because she always seemed to sense whenever he was around.

"I will teach you everything."

It didn't sound like an offer at all. His words were a promise.

Slowly she turned from the mirror to face him - and nearly sobbed at how lovely and fiercely his eyes were, almost shining with sheer compassion.

Compassion for her, yes. But also for an Illyrian boy who didn't know how to fly, who found himself all alone in a war camp long ago. "I'll be with you and I'll teach you everything."

She didn’t know what to say, what to make of everything. So Elain only took his hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing firmly.

But then, a thought struck her. "Truth-Teller," she gasped.

A smile curved his lips. "It's with me," he said. "I went back to the Cave. Turns out, without the Orb, the wards were gone."

Relief washed over her. And guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should - ."

Before she could finish her sentence, Elain was again in his arms. Azriel chuckled, but hadn't missed how heavy her eyelids were getting. "Not your fault. You weren't exactly in position to remember it," he said while gently carrying her back to bed.

But before he could lay down the mattress, he stopped by the side of the bed, and turned to look at her. Every ounce of amusement gone.

"I thought…" his words died and he shook his head.

No trace of that mask he so often used, no sign of his usually neutral expression.

The look on his face was Azriel in his most raw state. And she could see it.

I thought I had lost you.

She wished she wasn't so tired as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed, "I know."

He nodded. He understood.

He murmured as he lay her in the bed, "Sleep. I still owe Nesta an explanation."

Elain smiled sleepily, and mumbled, "Good luck."

Just when darkness came to claim her once again, Elain felt the ghost touch of a light kiss in her temple and the smell of mist and cedar. ___________

The next day, Elain was sitting at her usual spot by the window of the living room in the river house, the Orb laying on a desk right in the center of the room. What was unusual, however, was the many pairs of eyes glued to her.

Cassian's jaw was still on the floor by the time Amren, the last one to arrive, entered the room. Even her face went a bit slack when she took in the wings and some emotion sparkled in her silver eyes.

Elain tried not to blush, but all that attention wasn't helping.

Although Feyre had helped her before to retract and summon her wings, which she was grateful for, Elain didn't want to summon them in front of everyone, so she decided to just get straight to the point.

She didn’t know how Azriel explained what had happened to the others, especially to Nesta. But given the look on her face fixed on Rhysand and on the spymaster, a perfect I Will Slay My Enemies look, according to Cassian, Elain wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

But as for now Azriel just held her sister's gaze, his face neutral.

"So…" Cassian began, waving a hand towards her wings. "What the hell?"

"I think what he's trying to ask you is," Nesta gave a look at her mate. "Where did those come from?"

Elain took a deep breath. "Well..." She bit her lip, trying to choose her words in order to make sense. "After I found out what I was, I've never accessed the full extension of my powers. I knew the Cauldron had given me something else,something more, but I didn't want to find out what it was."

Rhysand asked, "Why."

"Because I was too scared," She replied honestly. That was all she could say. She didn't want to, didn't know if she could relive those days when she couldn't tell reality and dreams apart.

She glimpsed at Azriel, who was at the corner of the room, sorrow shining on his face while he gave her a reassurance nod.

"So when I grabbed the Orb, it… whatever powers I have just grumbled in answer, as if they were the same… they came to the surface. It tried to stop them, push them back, to let go of the Orb, but I couldn't… it trapped me"

"That's because they are the same," Amren said. As soon as the words left her mouth, Elain understood what lay on her eyes: recognition.

"What wicked sort of plans the Cauldron may have for the three of you," Amren went on, nodding to Elain and her sisters.

"Amren," Rhysand said, the voice of the High Lord. "If you know something, just tell us."

The petite female gave him a hard look, before turning to Elain. "The Cauldron didn't make you any Seer." Amren tilted her head, studied Elain. "He also happened to make you an Oracle." Her eyes were practically two blazing stars, and Elain had to fight a shiver, before asking "An Oracle?"

"That 's right, girl."

"What's the difference?" Nesta demanded.

"A different group of Seers… powerful ones", Rhysand murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I thought they were just a myth."

"They were as real as you and me, Rhysand," Amren said, shaking her head.

It was Feyre's time to demand, "Someone please explain."

"Before the High Lords, there was a time where this world lived in complete, unshakable peace," Amren began. "The Oracles were the great responsibles for this time of harmony, a group of Seers who used to celebrate life and pulled the threads of Fate. They travel through words just like we travel between courts, using their Seer powers to See and manipulate the future to their will… to prevent any cause of conflict before it even became a conflict. Subtle, swift creatures those females"

Elain wasn't sure if anyone in the room was breathing.

Azriel asked quietly, "How did they disappear?"

"No one truly knows." Rhysand answered. "The legends don't go that far."

"Common Seers have the gift of sight, but it's limited in its own way," Amren explained. "Oracles, however, have other sort powers as well and they can see further in the future, no matter how distant."

There was one question in Elain's mind, essencial and terrifying. "What is my power?"

Amren's smile was a thing of pure wickedness. "I guess you'll have to find out."

"But why the wings?" Nesta asked, brows furrowed.

Amren eyes softened a little. "Some claimed some of them heritaged from an unknown race of warriors. But not every one of them had wings. If you were blessed with them, they would call you the Leader. The others would fly on their winged horses by her side, travelling through the world and maintaining their balance."

Elain's head was spinning. "But what about the Orb?"

"I might have an idea, but I'll need to do some research in the Helion's libraries first." Rhysand shot his mate a look, his lips curving. "Care to join?"

Feyre only rolled her eyes.

Cassian let out a long breath. "So you're telling me Elain could see if a war is truly coming and stop it before it even begins."

A sick feeling gathered on her stomach, and she blurted, "No."

Silence.

"No what?" Amren asked thighly.

"No, I won't use my powers to play with Fate." She couldn't help the edge of rage in her words. "Espeacilly not when Fate itself had been playing with me all along."

Silence fell.

"You're right," Feyre offered at last, her voice soft. "It's your choice."

Gratitude washed over Elain.

"I want to learn how to fly, though" she blurted, glancing at Azriel, who was already smiling.

Feyre looked between them. "You'll find Azriel has… harsh methods, but they are quite efficient."

Rhysand, who had been just observing, suggested, "Maybe you, Feyre darling, can teach Elain, too."

"I will train her." Azriel's words were practically a snarl, challenge filling every one of them.

Elain looked at the shadows gathering around him as he stared at Rhysand, who just narrowed his eyes back. Strange.

"I'm sure Azriel is the better option to teach Elain, he was the one who taught me after all." Feyre was looking pointly at her mate. "But I can participate in a few lessons when they get tired of training alone." She said looking at Elain, eyes shining bright with an edge of mischief.

Elain ignored that.

"You'll have to build some muscles, you know that, right?" Cassian asked.

Muscles. It wasn't that Elain was opposed to that, but… she couldn't see herself as a warrior like her sisters. Surely, she wouldn't mind learning one thing or two, but...

"I'll help you."

Elain turned to her older sister, with raised brows. "I don't…"

"You don't have to learn how to use a sword, but I can help with your core muscles," Nesta offered.

Then, Elain couldn't stop the warmth in her chest - not from that source of power, but from pure gratitude. "Thank you."

Amren shocked her head and huffled a breath, edged with amusement, making Elain's brows furrow at that.

"A Made, reborn Fae and a Valkyrie training a new Oracle." Her lips curved in a feral smile. "Three Cauldron-blessed sisters, indeed."

Elain didn't have to use the Orb to know Fate had listened to Amren's words.

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

"Shit."

Azriel's curse hit Elain's ears, before her arm hit the rock as she fell on her face right into the lake.

They had been training for weeks now. At first, it was more about how to summon her wings and keep them up instead of resting on the ground.

Sometimes Feyre would join them, or even Nuala and Cerridwen made an appearance for what Cerridwen called "emotional support".

Which means they watched as Elain jumped just to fall right into that gods-damned lake and tried not to laugh. Cerridwen often failed spectacularly at that.

But after one particularly hard training lesson that ended up with more bruises Elain would care to admit, especially to her pride, Cerridwen had come to her room with a gift: a brand new and very pink apron with a winged fawn carefully embroidered at the front, the chain stitches meticulous done.

It was the most ridiculous apron Elain had ever seen - and she wore every chance she got with a stupid smile on her face.

But most of the time it was only Azriel and her. First they would stick to training, and she was able to focus only on the lessons. Until one day they had sat side by side at the shore, talking about everything and nothing, and, gods, she had missed him.

But then she felt that ravenous pull towards him and had to look away, before she could do something stupid again - and just like that she remembered why they had kept their distance in the first place.

She knew he desired her just as she desired him. She had seen the longing in his face, and had smelled his scent that night, darker than usual. Had read the hunger shining in his eyes as he looked at her.

But she had crossed a line he didn't want to cross.

Good thing now she had other things to worry about. Like ignoring the pain in her left arm, finding her way to the surface to get the hell out of that chilling lake.

But before she could do any of those things, Elain found herself looking at the sky and then the ground was beneath her.

And a very, very shirtless Azriel was by her side. "Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his tunic around her shoulders, scanning for injuries.

Even with her teeth almost chattering off her mouth from the cold, Elain couldn't help but take one good look at his muscled chest, those intricate tattoos on display and she felt her face heating. Not from embarrassment, but from pure desire that was pounding in her blood, traveling through her body. All she wanted in that moment, and so many before that, was to touch him, taste him. Be with him, by his side.

She imagined what would be like to have that powerful body hovering over hers.

Then she blushed a bit at those thoughts, too.

"I"m fine," she blurted after a considerable time, enough to make Azriel blush as well. And make her consider throwing herself at the lake again.

To distract herself, Elain closed her eyes and accessed that flame in her chest, letting it shine bright inside her, waves of heat running through her veins and bones until she was no longer cold.

When she looked at Azriel, he was already watching her. He cleaned his throat. "You kept yourself on the air longer this time."

Elain raised an eyebrow, "I fell on the only rock in this entire river."

A gleam shone in his eyes.

Elain narrowed hers at him.

"Are you trying not to laugh?"

"No," he said, clapping his lips together.

Every pound of desire in her blood died. "You said it wasn't funny anymore after the first four times!"

At that, Azriel tipped his head back and busted out such a rich laugh, that even Elain couldn't stop the small smile on her own lips. "You are a terrible teacher."

Except that he wasn't. Azriel was patient and thoughtful. He had refused to let her practice anywhere but the lake, and when she said she didn't need to be coddled and could practice on land, he had scanned her face, so many emotions passing across his, and told her he wouldn't see her getting hurt.

So they practice on the lake. Every day.

That was weeks ago and Elain was starting to think she would never take to the skies. She still couldn't sustain herself on the air for more than a few seconds.

"What is it like? To fly, I mean." she asked, eyes fixing on the lake before her.

She felt Azriel's eyes on her. "It 's freedom." Truth echoed in his words.

Elain nodded to herself. "I can hear the wind calling me." Her wing ruffled as if in emphasis."I can feel every muscle in my body begging me to jump out of the windows and it just… it's getting harder to ignore."

Elain tried to stop the burning in her eyes, her voice was broken when she breathed, "Why me, if I can't even get close to being airborne for more than five seconds?"

Azriel kept silent for so long, she didn't know if he heard her, but she was too much of a coward to look at him. Didn't want to look at him, not like this, not again.

But then gentle fingers found her chin and slowly turned her head to meet hazel eyes shining bright as the sun above them.

"Come with me."

Next thing she knew she was taking his extended hand and he shot to the skies, his tunic flying from her shoulders while she was being cradled against his bare chest.

Even though he was made of muscles hard as rock, his skin was warm and soft as the finest velvet.

Azriel landed right on the top of one of the highest mountains surrounding Velaris, the city bursting with life so far below that it seemed one of Nyx's toys.

And Elain almost stopped breathing. "Are you going to push me?"

Azriel chuckled, but didn't answer. "Turn around and close your eyes."

"So you definitely are going to push me," she murmured, but did as she was told.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't Azriel's large hands on her waist or the warmth of his body behind her.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest and his hands tightened on her.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

Especially when Azriel's breath caressed the

shell of her ear. "Focus on the wind passing through your wings, how each feather answers to it. Try to understand its direction, its temperature."

So she did. And she could feel it. She could feel the most external layer of feathers absorbing the temperature impact of the icy wind. Could feel the most little plumes, so sensitive they could perceive the slight change in any air current direction.

She became aware of everything around her. But mostly of the heat emanating from Azriel's body on her back, of his thumbs now drawing small circles on her sides.

"When I was a boy, I used to think the same thing as you do now," he whispered. "I was locked away and had to suppress so many instincts…" He let out a breath. "These wings are yours and only yours, you command them. It might take some time, but you will fly and control your powers. Be patient. You can do whatever you want, Elain."

It was his words, the meaning. He believed in her, had always believed in her.It was that certainty that had her leaning into his touch.

She folded in her wings and tilted her head, slowly opening her eyes to find his beautiful face inches from hers, close enough for her to see the hues of green in his eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Azriel said nothing. No, he just let every word shine in his gaze as he leaned down and brushed his nose against hers while his thumbs were still caressing her sides leisurely.

She sucked in a breath, eyes falling close as she lost herself at the pure intimacy of that touch. Elain's whole body went molten and she wanted nothing more than to melt against his chest.

But she couldn't cross that line again.

So she pulled back, just enough to look at his face and made herself say, "I think Nesta is waiting for me."

Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. "Right."

On their way to the House of Wind, she thought Azriel would keep silent but he surprised her when he said quietly, "Nuala and Cerridwen never told me you were training with them."

Despite everything, a faint smile curved Elain's lips. "You can't expect to know everyone secrets."

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's my job."

And Nuala and Cerridwen's, too.

"I don't want to be a warrior," Elain blurted. "But… maybe I can use my gifts - my sight gifts, I mean - to..."

A whisper of those shadows still filled his gaze, but Azriel gave her a small smile. "Like spying?"

Elain blushed. "Perhaps."

"You'd make a good spy, but you have to be patient."

Elain looked at him. At that male who had intrigued her and made her feel comfortable and safe from the very beginning. At that male who found her when no one else would, who had seen her. Had truly seen her.

No, she wouldn't cross that line now, but...

"I can be patient, Azriel," she breathed. Promised.

This time, hope shone so brightly in his hazel eyes that no room was left for shadows.

[honesthammie]

Te amo

I am working on a few of the other prompts and a part 2 to prompt 4 the soulmate au I just recently got another puppy and I still have uni work to do so I'm a bit behind schedule with these and I'm so sorry. Hopefully this little kinda songfic makes up for it.

13th doctor x female reader

Warnings: swearing as usual, fluffy, sad thoughts, twist the original songs meaning, long as fuck.

Probably terrible as its my first songfic

I don't know much Spanish so some of the examples later on are Google translated and I know it can be wrong so I do apologise for any mistranslations

This is based off Rhiannas song Te Amo but I'm switching it up a little. I dont why 13th doctor came into my head when I was listening to it but it gave me this lil oneshot idea so enjoy! The picture is not mine but the rainbow effect added is done by me! Same for the picture later on.

I've been travelling with this amazing alien for a whole year now. The adventures are always amazing if she's there! The others sometimes complain and say its boring, especially on a junk planet but to see her face light up with excitement makes my day and it well worth the dirt we cover ourselves on by the time we are done. And when she finds something that she thought was useful and it turns out, it's not her scrunch is amazing.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm in love with this alien. I know, weird, a human and an alien together? But I can't help it! I'm completely besotted with her. If she even looks in my direction, my legs go to jelly and I get butterflies. I know, cheesy. But thats exactly how I feel around her. I barely want to touch her because I nearly fainted the last few times. And I fear she may pick up on how I'm distancing myself from her. I don't want to break her heart and leave, the thought of her look kills me as is so I'm trying to get her to kick me off.

It doesn't seem to be working though. I've been distancing myself since I found out about how I feel, which is now 6 months ago and she's trying to get me to be as close as I was with her.

I'll tell her. On one of our amazing adventures but I can't do it straight forward, it's making me sick with anxiety just thinking about it. I'll fancy it up, make her work it out. Whenever we are next to each other and the moment is right, I'll tell her in another language!

I finally get out of bed after I finished writing in my diary. I slip some comfy clothes on and head out to the TARDIS library and hope no one is there, especially her. I'll be distracted and right now, I need to concentrate. I wonder the warm halls, grateful that the TARDIS had considered my preferences. I think the TARDIS likes me more than the others because I talk to her and show her gratefulness for taking us somewhere amazing and I chat to her regularly and I try to involve her in my conversations. The others find it weird, except for the Doctor, she just smiles and joins in with me. Im still learning how to translate her but I think I've sort of got it.

I reach my hand forward and grab the aged bronze doorknob and open to the giant room. There were so many floors that an elevator had to be used to access some of them as the Doctor said "walking would literally take weeks to reach some floors". Thankfully the TARDIS organises them to make them easier to find. I looked forward and saw an interactive map in front of me. My hands touched the screen and many subjects and categories came up. Anything ranging from kiddie tales to straight up smut, I have a feeling either River or Missy are to blame for that addition.

I've never met them but the TARDIS showed me videos from her database and brought books to my attention about them. They both seem very dirty minded people so I'm not surprised those are there. I wonder if the Doctor has ever stumbled upon this section or is it for none Doctor eyes only? If she does know about them, has she ever read one? No, don't go there you stupid brain! She probably doesn't know!

I quickly stop that train of thought and catch my breath. I've never thought about those kinds of things about anyone before. Stupid Timelord, making me go all weird and think dirty things. Now my face is all red, I really hope I'm alone in here. I quickly focus back to the task at hand, finding a new language to learn. The TARDIS seemed to know where to go and blue arrows appeared, guiding me to the right section in what could be a maze.

As I walking, I felt excitement rise within me. What if she felt the same way? What if she was impressed by how far I wanted to go just to say those 3 words? Would her hazel honey eyes sparkle with delight? Would she scronch her nose in amazement?

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the language learning section and there were many alien languages but the TARDIS seemed to have a better idea of what would be perfect for me as a white hardback book fell off the 4th shelf onto the wooden floor. I picked it up and noticed how smooth the cover was and how old yet unused it looked. The white was a little off, almost a dull cream from ageing which made the gold writing harder to read. The title was simple:

Spanish basics and need to knows.

I did always find Spanish in school fun to learn, more than French or German anyway and I don't wanna stereotype this into a typical French is the language of romance. I never really found it romantic sounding compared to Spanish.

I picked up the book and quickly flicked through to the right page and took a note on my phone as to what the translation was and put the worn book away. I quietly thanked the TARDIS and rushed out of the library and back into my room where I could practice without getting caught.

A few weeks have passed since I picked up the new words and practiced them until I was confident and had the TARDIS' approval that I was saying it right. Today the Doctor wanted to take us to this party in the 18th century and we all decided to dress for the part once we landed.

Yaz was wearing a beautiful black and red ballroom gown, accented with little bows around the bottom and lace cuffs. She had her black hair curled into a ponytail. It was simple and cute, much like her style normally. Graham and Ryan wore similar suits but Graham wore green accents and Ryan wore yellow accents.

I let the TARDIS pick my dress. She picked a black and dark blue ballroom gown with blue roses on the bottom. It had black lace underneath and blue lace as the cuffs. The gown also seemed to glitter slightly in the light making me sparkle very subtly. I put my comfy boots on as you couldn't see my shoes as I walked anyway so why did it matter? With all the running we do, I'm not risking my ankles with heels, thank you very much. I had my (h/c) hair in (fave style). It suited my dress perfectly.

I nearly choked on oxygen when I saw how hot the Doctor looked in her suit. It took me a few moments to realise we match. We both blushed at the realisation. Of course the TARDIS makes us match! No wonder why she was more than eager to help me pick an outfit! Stupid sentient ship, shipping us already!

I quickly cleared my throat and complimented everyone on how amazing they looked but I just couldn't take my eyes off the Doctor for long. She was like a magnet for my eyes. Someone help before she realises!

"Don't we all look brilliant? Perfect for the party! 18th century Yorkshire to be exact! What a great century for you guys. Now then, this party is for Nobles and higher, as per usual in these times. Ryan, I suggest you keep in mind about any racist comments that may come out. But as long as you say your Graham's personal butler, you should be welcomed with little resistance. And Yaz, I want you to be (y/n)'s personal maid. That does mean you'll have to follow your so called "masters" around and do anything they ask unfortunately and Graham, (y/n), please act like the others around you and use them. Unfortunately this is the only way all 5 of us can join the party. You'll be fine as long as you bite your tongues. Now the Noble Edward Collins is the host so be sure to thank him for inviting you, even though you technically weren't. And try not to get too drunk, I know what you humans are like! Now follow me." The Doctor explained. I was going to tell the Doctor today, but I guess, I'll have to wait.

The Doctor opened the doors and we were in a cupboard under some gorgeous marble stairs. As we walked towards the party I noticed some family portraits along the walls. They were a very beautiful looking family. The mother had long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The father was buff, long brown hair and daring brown eyes. There were two children, a girl and a boy. The girl had long brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, whilst the son had blonde hair and brown eyes. They also had a brown greyhound dog laying by the sons feet. The son must be the host, Edward. He looked not much older than 10 in the last painting but the daughter was no where to be found in the portrait and theu all looked mournful. Is she dead and is that the picture capturing the moment of grief? Why would anyone want that? It's so strange, even for this time period.

The Doctor held me and Yaz close, stopping us in our tracks. My heart was racing at the simple touch. But as soon as the touch was there, it was gone. "I hope its okay with you (y/n) but you're going to have to be married to someone."

My heart stopped for a moment and I nearly choked on air. "What? Why?"

"Because women like yourself would have been married as young as 13 or 14. Now your only choices are me and Graham. You can't choose Ryan as he's supposed to be a butler and you can't choose Yaz as she's your maid. The choice is yours, I just need to know wether or not I should refer to you as my darling wife or not?"

What. The. Fuck.

Why did her even calling me that l, turn me on? Obviously, I'm going to choose her but I'm going to have to perfect my reasoning here.

"As much as I love Graham, it's going to be awkward if I have to kiss him or anything because he's like my grandad! I guess you'll do Timelord. Come on then husband, we don't want to be late to the dancefloor!" I spoke clearly hoping she didn't notice how excited I actually was to have even a hint of a relationship with her. It may be fake but ill take anything when it comes to her.

We arrived at the welcome committee and handed our cards over, aka the psychic paper. We were going as Mr and Mrs (last name). The Doctor was holding my hand this entire time and it's driving me insane. I don't know if she can feel my racing pulse under her fingers but if she can I hope she puts it down to excitement! We walked down the most grandest staircase you would ever lay your eyes on.

First we walked around, greeting everyone as they came up to us or if she dragged me to someone she knew, but not personally. She was cute when she was fangirling over these people. Yaz found it annoying as she just wanted to party but I couldn't help it. The way her eyes shimmer with recognition was more beautiful than any galaxy she could ever take us. Sometimes her eyes flickered with admiration and it did make me have jealousy for just a moment before I remembered, I'm staying with her and they aren't .

As the party moved on we met the host Edward. He looked a lot different than in his paintings. He was around 20 years old now and his blonde hair was below his shoulders. He looked a lot like his father with his muscley build. And he was very charismatic which I did not like as he poured all his charm into the Doctor. Does everyone here know that he's gay or does he see through the Doctors disguise? Either way, it was rubbing me the wrong way. I quickly excused myself with Yaz and walked into the bathroom.

"I did not like him. I do not like this Edward guy. Something about him rubs me completely wrong. He's handsome but something is telling me he knows the Doctor isn't a man."

"I felt the same way. He knows something we don't. Before we go out there again, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Yaz asked. My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. She knows. The jig is up with Yaz. "How do you feel about her, honestly? One minute you 2 are inseparable, then you distance yourself and now you are a nervous wreck around her! I won't judge but I just want to make sure my theory is correct."

Shit. I guess I really was obvious. Does she know?

"If your theory is about me falling hopelessly in love with the Doctor then you'd be correct. I can't help it. I'm going to tell her how I feel without being completely stupid. I just need a right moment to say it." I spoke with a heavy sigh. Hopefully, Yaz can help create that moment thay I need. She nods her head and opens the door. We walk back to the Doctor and notice Edward has gone to other guests and she was talking to Graham. I looked around and saw Ryan flirting with a pretty lady near the food table. Why am I not surprised?

A few hours had passed and the Doctor seemed bored with standing and talking so I made a plan in my head. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dancefloor as the next song came on. I didn't quite know how to dance properly but I knew the basics if it. She has to lead and I simply follow suit. It took a few moments but I got the hang of it with the Doctors help. Soon we were dancing so gracefully underneath the most beautiful candelabra that lit up her face perfectly.

Her hair swayed to our perfect dance ever so gently. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and her lips were in a permanent smile. She even laughed a couple of times. Then as the music slowed down to a pace that was perfect, I grabbed her waist and looked her. My heart was going crazy and my legs were about to buckle but I had rehearsed my lines. I can do this.

"Hey Doc. Its been an amazing time with you but I can't continue this without being honest with you. But everytime I get close, I back down in fear. So I'm going to let you figure it out. Doctora te amo. Entiendo que si no sientes lo mismo y me iré si quieres. (Doctor i love you. i understand if you don't feel the same way and i'll leave if you want.)" I spoke with as much passion and intention as I could. I looked into her eyes and saw her confused and trying to work out what I said. I would find it cute if my heart was beating right out of my chest. "Well, I've had a great time but I'm fucking knackered. I'm calling it night. I'll be heading to the TARDIS if you need me."

"I'll come with ya. I'm knackered as well and we both need each other to undo the corsets and mine is starting to hurt a little bit. How we used to do this for a full day, everyday, is beyond my understanding. As beautiful as we look, I don't think its worth the pain this will bring in the morning." Yaz spoke with a slight mumble as proof of her mental state and finishing with a yawn. I chuckled at her state and walked back to the TARDIS with a small amount of chat along the way.

She is right though. These corsets really do hurt you after a while, I'm glad I chose not to wear heels or else I'll be fucked for in the morning. I would literally scream. I think the Doctor had the right idea in wearing a suit, no pain. I do feel bad for leaving her but I just need some space after basically admitting everything that's been built up within me for too damn long. Maybe I should tell Yaz how it went and maybe she can help determine if the Doctor is happy or not.

We walked back into the wardrobe room and I helped Yaz out of her corset. She immediately sighed in relief. She finished getting herself into comfy clothes and started to untie my ribbon.

"So did you tell her?"

"Sort of. I basically told her everything but in Spanish. I just hope it doesn't change anything, except in a positive way, of course! If she wants me gone, I've told her that it's fine and I understand. She's very socially awkward and as cute as I find it, it may not help me in this situation. Do you have any clues on how she may react once she figures it out?"

Yaz stopped untying my corset for a moment and placed 1 finger upon her chin in thought. Her eyes were almost shut and seemed almost completely black in the light. After what seemed like forever, she took her finger off her chin and beamed a toothy smile. Her eyes sparkled as she remembered something and seemed to gleam slightly menacingly. A smirk replaced her smile soon after.

"There's a few times she's shown affection towards you. And I mean romantic affection. She always chooses to hold your hand over anyone else's if given the choice. She always steps I'm front of you when an enemy threatens to kill us all or hurt us in anyway. When you go wandering around on your own, she's terrified thats she's lost you forever to an enemy we don't even know of!" Yaz starts explaining carefully as if she's worried on how to word it.

"Those are just friendly affec-"

"I wasn't done. I was warming up." Yaz interrupts me as I was about to go into a self deprecating speech on how I'm just a friend to everyone and never a lover. "She always looks to see your face on adventures because she secretly loves your reactions, bad or good. When the Master revealed himself, she looked straight at you for support on how she should react. When she came back from the Kasavin, she ran straight to you and made sure you were ok first before any of us. When we were in the Tsungra medical ship, the first person she asked for was you! Whilst she was unconscious on board the ship, she kept mumbling your name, over and over again. When she saw how gorgeous you looked today, I thought she'd take you right there on the spot! She fucking loves you (y/n)! You're just so unbelievably blind to it all!"

Yaz was almost red with rage. Did she really do all that, for me? The TARDIS mustve read my mind and seemed to hum positively in reply. If everything Yaz said is true then she'll be so happy about it and maybe we can be a thing! But then again, maybe losing so many in a similar position as me will turn her away. Maybe her soul is awry and she's asking why right now.

Once I had gotten changed I went to sleep almost straight away, I suppose all that dancing and social ques having tired me out more than I thought.

I woke up to a soft knock on my door. I rubbed my (e/c) eyes and told them I'd be a few minutes as I've only just woken up. It wasn't until I finished brushing my (h/c) hair that I remembered what happened yesterday. All the panic rushed within me at once and I nearly threw up. I took several deep breaths and opened the door.

"GRAHAM THANK FUCK ITS YOU!" I almost shouted at him. He looked a little bewildered for a moment before he seemed to remember what brought him here in the first place.

"Hello Love, I'm here because Doc wanted to speak with you privately in the library. She says that the TARDIS will guide you to her location. She seemed a little off after you and Yaz left. Did something happen? Is everything ok?" Graham asked cautiously. He must be so confused.

"Sort of. I'll explain more when I get back but what do you mean by "a little off"?"

"Well she seemed lost in all sense of the word. She kept muttering "Te Amo" all the time. She was all over the place aswell. She got me and Ryan back here not long after you guys. Something about not trusting Ryan to not get alcohol poisoning without her around. She hasn't really left the library since if I'm honest. She's been in there for 12 hours. I only know she wants you because she whattsapped me on my phone. Whatever is going on, please sort it out, she's starting to really worry me. She hasn't been the same since that Master guy came around." Graham spoke clearly, albeit confused. I nodded my head and walked in the opposite direction to him and hoped the TARDIS would take me there quicker than normal. I want to treat this like a plaster, rip it off in one go.

Sooner than I realised, I grabbed the all too familiar door knob of the library. I took a deep breath and walked in. A blue line appeared towards the interactive map. I awakened the console and I saw a black screen with a few words on it. It looked like a message with how it was presented.

Hello (y/n)! Don't walk until you calm. Breath deeply and try not to panic. I promise you, all will work out in the end. I see more than you realise and I know my thief better than anyone whoever stepped foot into my being. I know of her main problem about the situation. If she loves you, drink this. It won't hurt, she'll know what it is.

The TARDIS

I should have been surprised by this new knowledge that she could speak to me, in a way, but I've seen so much and I am so tender hooks so I didn't take much notice of it. I quickly sat down and tried to control my breathing. After about 5 or so minutes, I felt calm enough to finally meet up with her and hear what she has to say.

I followed the blue line carefully until I spotted her in a comfy room. She mustve gotten changed at some point as she was wearing her usual rainbow outfit, minus the jacket. She was sat on a deep purple sofa, legs curled into her body. Her shoes were on the carpeted floor underneath her, seemingly forgotten for the moment. There were many books surrounding us from many cultures and spieces. One wall had a cozy wood burning fireplace crackling within the silence that surrounded us.

Her face was scrunched within deep thought. Her eyes sparkling with an emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on; hope, sorrow or excitement? Her lips had a small smirk gracing them and her teeth had bitten a small part of it. Her hands were holding a book in a way where I couldn't quite see what it was.

I didn't want to disturb her as she looked so ethereal with the warm glow of the fire highlighting her in the perfect way. Unfortunately, it's plaster time and I wanted this sorted sooner rather than later. I took a deep breath took in the picture for memory.

"Hey, Graham said you wanted to talk to me? Is everything ok?" I asked gently and as softly as I could so she was carefully brought out of her little world. I didn't want to scare her. She raised her eyes from her book for a moment and bookmarked the page she was at with a little TARDIS paperclip. She placed the book on the table at the side of her and patted the seat next to her.

As I sat down my nerves were through the roof. She gave nothing away as she stared at me for a minute, as if assessing something about me.

"Why are you so nervous? Calm down. You are right, It is to do with last night. You left pretty abruptly after basically confessing your feelings to me. I was so confused, not just about what you said but about myself and what I wanted to do about you." The Doctor spoke monotonously. Did she mean get rid of me? "I had to first of all, find out what you said, well done on learning a new language by the way, one even I'm not fluent at. I'm guessing the old girl had something to do with that idea. Not that, you aren't smart enough but you don't know what languages I do or don't know."

The Tardis seemed to chuckled at the accusation and I simply nodded my head. "I wanted to buy myself time and to impress you."

"You impressed me a long time ago Miss (l/n). That is just a cherry on top. After I figured out what you said, no thanks to my old friend here, I went through a lot of thinking. I've not been in many relationships and you know my history regarding the ones I have been in. You know, River and Missy? And I have such a bad past with it ending in nothing but tears for me. I always lose those I care for deeply." She spoke with tears spilling from her gorgeous eyes. I grabbed her face gently and wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape their home.

"That was when you were a man. You're a woman now, everything is so different. Relationships can be heartbreaking. I know what you're main problem is and the TARDIS has a solution to that. I just need you to tell me the truth. How do you feel about me? Do you want me to stay or not?" I stated holding the small shot glassed amount of liquid in my hand. The liquid was golden and sparkled slightly in the light. There were specks of orange and silver within it and it was as hot as a nice cup of (hot drink). Her eyes sparkled with hope and shock. Her lips were smiling wide. And she seemed to giggle at the sight of it. She held it for a moment as if examining it like a rare artefact, maybe it was. Either way, I trust her judgement and if she's happy about it, then so am I. Once she had analysed the drink, she practically leapt into my arms and pushed me down on my back. She smelled of custard creams and the TARDIS which was odd but completely her and I couldn't imagine her smelling any other way.

"That does solve our problem! What she has just given you is the rarest liquid in the universe seeing as only one thing in the entirety of space can produce it. That drink is known as the nectar of the chosen ones. It's rare as the race that used to make them has practically gone extinct. There's only 3 left in the known universe and you're living in one. That drink is the blood of the TARDIS. It grants you immortality if you drink it. It is said to resemble your favourite beverage no matter who you are. However, it only lasts 100 years and you must drink it every century or else your body clock will kick in and you will age and be as mortal as you are now." She speaks with a warning as we sit up holding holds.

"I have no problem with that. I would sacrifice everything if it meant I got to call you mine. Just please tell me and I'll drink it." I told her with adoration in my eyes.

She held me close and planted a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. It was short but it sent more fireworks than you can imagine through my body. I knew I had found her. She grabbed my waist and whispered next to my ear:

"Te Amo"

[clonerightsagenda]

hey do you have any life advice? I've always looked up to you and I respect your opinion and didn't know if you had any strategies living in the usa with limited money and healthcare or just with getting a decent job that you don't hate. or honestly any advice at all about anything. the world is really stressful. and reading your blog always gives me hope for the future because you're just doing your best and existing i guess? sorry if that's weird

Hm. Well, first of all, I'm flattered. As you say, I'm doing my best and existing. I don't know whether that makes me a great source of wisdom, but I'll do my best.

I have been privileged enough to always have access to health care, either from my parents or my own job, so I don't have a lot of practical tips on that front.  I hope our country gets it together soon and catches up with everyone who's already set up socialized medicine. The good news amidst all of our nightmare politics is that even though it feels like everyone's ignoring the obvious solutions, which they often are, there's stuff on the table being considered that would never have been mentioned not long ago (like free college, for example) so we have to stay hopeful. The one thing I'd say about this is if you're ever in a bad situation where you have to choose where to put your money, I would tend to make sure you get dental care, because teeth problems can haunt you for the rest of your life. My local dentist actually just set up a program that's kind of like dental insurance for people without it, so you can look for things like that from the health providers in your community.

As for limited money... again, I've been pretty lucky in this regard. I can support myself ok on my income, so I don’t have the same perspective as someone who’s really had to worry. Checking for stores that sell at a discount is always a good idea - places like Dollar General, Cash Saver, Aldis, etc. There are some things I prefer to buy name brand for, but a lot of the time store brand is fine. Cooking can save a lot of money, but it is a skill that has to be developed, and I acknowledge not everyone has the time or access to good equipment and ingredients. If your money is tight, developing a budget is probably a good idea to keep track of everything. And if you have a bulk store like Costco in your area - it might be worth finding a buddy to pool your money and split big purchases, because you will save by doing so. I also know more and more areas are developing mutual aid networks, and I know my city has a Food Not Bombs group and a free market. You may have to do some digging to see if any of those things are local to you, but they can help.

Jobs... check your local library if you have one; they often have databases for searching job openings and may have programs to review your resume and cover letter. If you're still in school, use your career center. In this country there's a lot of emphasis on your dream job, because capitalism wants us to identify with our roles as workers much. It's certainly nicer to go to jobs that you like, but it's also perfectly OK if you go to a job that's just something you do in the day, and then you go home and do things you want to do. This may vary from person to person, but I actually found that I have more free time working fulltime than I did when I was in college, which was a nice surprise. I felt more free to read and write and enjoy myself because my work time and me time were more compartmentalized. Our generation is also far less likely to stay in one job for our entire lives, so it's totally ok to take a job that you don't *love* for a while, just to get your bearings, and then move on. You don't need to feel trapped, or feel like because you "settled" once you'll never get where you want to go. So much is changing, I don't know that many of us know what our jobs might look like in a few decades. As much as I always hated people talking about networking, it is true that knowing people helps, even if it’s just hearing about a job opening you might have missed otherwise. Keep an ear to the ground, let people know you’re looking... I had a well-meaning grandparent send me a job opening in Hawaii once.

For some other advice about this stressful world... 

I think it helps to make things occasionally. Now, I know a lot of people on here are artists and writers, which is good, but that kind of creation can be really frustrating and exhausting sometimes. It's nice to be able to make something a little less stressful and more substantial. For example, I bake. Some people knit. Some people paint, but not to polish their craft, just for fun. In a world where so much feels out of our control, it's nice to have something tangible you brought into being.

It also helps to do at least one good thing. You can burn yourself out trying to change the world, and in America we're raised on a lot of individualist stories where a single person is a hero and brings down a terrible regime.  If you have the energy to throw yourself into being an organizer for a new group or running for local office, great! But if you don't, and you're feeling really helpless, even writing one e-mail to your senator or checking in on a neighbor or tossing $5 to someone’s gofundme can make you feel a little less trapped. I'm doing phone banking this weekend. I hate it, and I will be miserable the whole time, but I'll feel better afterward. Do what you can, and then give yourself permission to let go and not stress for a while. 

I say this as an introvert, but some kind of community is good too. I don't have that many people in person, although I was trying to work on that before the pandemic started by going to more events hosted by my local library. This is actually a pretty good time to explore - a lot of groups that would normally meet in person are meeting online, so it's much easier to drop in and see if it's right for you. I've attended some meetings I never would've gone to when they were in person all the way downtown in the evenings. And there's always having a few people online that you check in regularly with - it's good to have someone, whatever form that takes. Even if it’s a Discord chat where you make jokes about podcasts. 

I feel like that was all..... very vague, and I hope any of it was helpful? If you have any more questions I can try to be more specific, within the limits of my experience. I have been very fortunate in a lot of ways throughout my life, which may be preventing me from being super helpful, but I’ll try! 

[nitewrighter]

Would you write some canon fic around the same time your Sun Fic happened but from Mercy's pov? I've been curious to know how she held up when most of her peers where leaving ow one by one until she was the only one left. Not to mention how stressed she must have been with the tension between Reyes and Morrison.

The sun fic is here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet!

---

She kept making too much coffee. That was what kept throwing her off. She could try to be mindful about it, she could try to say “No one is coming” when she would measure out her beans before she ground them, but saying that stung, and stung deep. It never really occurred to Mercy how much Genji figured into her daily interactions and how much the rest of it was work until he left. Tracer was exhausting without Genji to bounce between them, and while Winston was about the same, now he kept asking ‘how she was doing,’ and she had to keep saying ‘fine’ because there was too much to unpack. Where was she supposed to start? Mei and the Ecowatch Antarctica team were all dead. Reinhardt had been unceremoniously shoved into retirement. Gérard Lacroix was dead. Amélie Lacroix was missing-presumed-dead. Genji was missing. Captain Ana Amari was missing-presumed-dead. Liao was dead. Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes were barely talking. Talon was getting bolder and bolder even with Doomfist imprisoned, which raised the question of how effective Tracer’s strike team actually was. 30 million orphans from the Omnic Crisis were now being fed into a thriving underground economy of mercenaries, black market technicians, and human trafficking. More governments were investing in private security corporations rather than Overwatch, disease outbreaks were blooming in the most vulnerable communities all around the world faster than Overwatch’s relief teams could respond, and all the while Moira O’Deorain was thriving like a cancer in the chaos.

And here Mercy was.

With her too-full coffee carafe at 11:30 PM on a Wednesday night.

The worst part about missing him was how sneaky he was. She used to be able to speak to an empty room and he wouldn’t be able to resist giving himself away to say something snarky. She still did it, mindlessly.

“This cell culture just does not want to cooperate,” she said, pulling away from her microscope, only to find herself speaking to no one. His absence ached like a phantom limb.

He’d know a lot more about phantom limbs than you would, that stinging voice spoke in the pit of her chest.

She pushed away from the microscope in her swivel chair and forced herself to stand up, feeling her exhaustion in every curve of her spine. Just walk around, come back to this with fresh eyes, she thought to herself, refilling her mug. She walked out of the lab and looked down the hallway of Zurich headquarters. The emptiness of the halls had more of a foreboding to them now. Before, she loved the liminality of the bustling-in-daytime headquarters in its silence at night, but now that silence felt hollow. She sipped her coffee and looked out the window at the line of tents outside the headquarters’ main gate. Jack’s statue had been vandalized--not torn apart, thankfully, but relentlessly graffitied. They had stationed security bots for it, but if there was one thing all the protestors had proven, it was that even civilians with enough anger and willpower always found ways to get their point across. 

“I never wanted that damn statue,” a gruff voice spoke next to her and Mercy’s head jerked over to see Jack Morrison a few steps away, looking out that same window.

Mercy blinked a few times.

“How goes the lab work, Doc?” said Jack, not looking at her.

“Slow,” said Mercy with a shrug, “It’s like that sometimes.” 

“Mm,” Jack grunted in acknowledgment. A long pause passed between them.

“You’re up late as well,” said Mercy, smiling slightly, “Strategizing with Reyes?”

“No,” his voice was flat.

Mercy bit the inside of her lip. “If it sounded like I was implying anything, please know that was not my inten--” she started.

“I know,” said Jack, “Gabe--Commander Reyes and I have agreed we both need more... perspective.”

“New approaches can help,” Mercy offered, but she knew there was far more weight to what Jack was saying about his and Gabriel’s partnership. Jack was very good at spinning things at this point--and she could tell how much he hated it. “Is there anything I can...?” she trailed off. Jack’s eyes flicked to her only momentarily and Mercy’s lips thinned.

“It’s fine,” said Jack, “Just... keep at your work.” 

Mercy gave a glance back out at the tents outside Zurich’s gates. “You know, the hard part about being in an international organization, it becomes a lot easier for people to treat you like you don’t belong anywhere...” she pushed her hair back from her face, “But--we’ve done good work. We’ve done wonderful things. We’ve helped people---”

“That’s a lot of past-tense there, Doc,” said Jack.

“I--We’re helping people--they love Tracer!” Mercy felt desperate and a bit foolish at this point.

“They do, don’t they?” said Jack, not looking at her.

“She believes in us...” said Mercy.

“Do you?” said Jack.

Mercy looked off. “I... I should be getting back to work.”

“Right,” said Jack. Mercy straightened her labcoat and moved to walk off.

“Doc?” said Jack.

“Yes?” said Mercy.

Jack’s face was half in shadow, the light from the window only making out his craggiest features and highlighting the gray of his hair. His lips parted with a slight inhale and for a few seconds Mercy thought he was going to apologize. How entitled do you have to feel to assume that? she thought to herself, But... between the biotic rifle, Moira, and Genji....

Jack seemed to catch himself. Any apology he might have would be too little, too late now. “You... take care of yourself, okay?” he motioned with his head toward the line of tents outside the gate, “Weird, angry people out there.”

“We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t weird, angry people,” said Mercy with a slight smile. 

Jack huffed a little and turned back to look out the window, “Maybe we should try recruiting with the protestors,” he said wryly. 

“Maybe,” said Mercy. It does feel so empty here, she thought, but she gave a glance over to Jack, “Get some rest, Commander.”

“You too,” said Jack.

Mercy rounded a corner in the headquarters and was now walking along a hallway looking down into the courtyard garden below. 

“In a way, I am a bit jealous, Doctor Ziegler,” she remembered Genji’s words down in that garden, “Overwatch will always need your abilities, but if in the end, they’re a peacekeeping organization, eventually they won’t need a weapon...”

“You’re not a weapon,” she had told him, “You’re not. I can’t let everything Overwatch touches become a weapon.”

Mercy let her fingertips trail along the glass of the window before she gave a glance to a door where the name next to the door had been blacked out. It should have read ‘Captain Ana Amari’ but she wasn’t here anymore. Mercy kept walking, descending a stairwell deeper into the lower levels of the building. 

“Are you staying just for the team’s sake?” he had asked her on their last mission together, “For mine?”

Stop it, She thought to herself, reaching the bottom of the stairs and continuing her brisk walk down the halls of Blackwatch’s quarters, You’re only making it worse. Just focus. Don’t think about him. Keep walking. Stop thinking about him. Keep walking. Just keep--

She stopped and found herself staring at a too-familiar door. Genji insisted on not even having his name on a plate next to his door, but she knew it all the same. Her hand touched the cool metal of the door. You’ve checked it before, she thought, You did everything you could short of pulling the wiring out of the walls looking for some clue he may have left you as to where he went. He doesn’t want to be found. He doesn’t want you in his life. You’re making it worse. You’re making it---

She touched her key card to the panel next to the door and it slid open. She stepped inside. The room was completely empty...it was bare even when he was living in it, she didn’t know why she thought she would find anything new looking in it now. 

Her comm buzzed at her side and and she pulled it from the pocket of her labcoat. ‘ENCRYPTED CHANNEL’ displayed on her comm’s holographic projection and she arched an eyebrow. Her high position in Overwatch meant her own channel was extremely secure--there was no way an encrypted channel would be able to access her unless she had given them a prior access code. The only people she had given that access code to were...

She quickly opened her comm. “Genji?!” she spoke breathlessly.

“...Sorry, Doc, hope I’m not too much of a disappointment,” a warm voice came on the other end.

“Jesse,” Mercy huffed and her shoulders slumped, “I’m sorry I just thought...”

“I get it. So still no word from him?”

“Still no word,” said Mercy, glancing up at the chin-up bar that was still installed overhead. She smiled a little, “But I must say, it’s been a while since I heard from you! Why are you calling from an encrypted channel?” Her face suddenly dropped, “McCree--why are you calling from an encrypted channel?” she asked, tension coiling in her stomach.

“...I’m not on any more Blackwatch ‘vacations’ if that’s what you’re asking,” said McCree, “I’m not...” McCree audibly huffed on the other side of the line, “Doc, are you alone?”

“Yes?” Mercy answered hesitantly, looking around Genji’s room.

“Okay,” McCree took a steadying breath on the other side of the line, “Doc, I know Genji leaving broke your heart, and I don’t want to do that to you, so that’s why I’m callin’... but... the truth is, I’m gone.”

“Gone--what do you mean--” Mercy’s face scrunched up in confusion and then her eyes widened, “McCree, you can’t--Your contract with Blackwatch---”

“...Will paint a target on my back, I know, but...this isn’t me hittin’ the dusty trail and ridin’ off into the sunset. The truth is, shit’s going down, Doc. I don’t know how much I can tell you without putting you into danger, but all I can tell you is that it’s not safe there. Wheels are fallin’ off, lines are being drawn, and you gotta get out while you can.”

“No--no---you can’t just leave me in the dark like this,” Mercy was pacing back and forth, “McCree, I can’t just leave, I have people counting on me. Overwatch’s relief work---”

“Shit--I gotta go,” McCree cut her off, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get on this channel again, Doc, but--please stay safe. I promise I’ll bring the chip back when the dust settles.” 

“Bring what chip back--” Mercy heard a click on the other end, “McCree? McCree!?” she brought her comm away from her ear only to read ‘DISCONNECTED’ on the holo-projection. “Oh Jesse, what are you doing?” she said quietly. She looked around Genji’s room. “...what am I doing?” she said even more softly.

But there was no one around to answer that.