#Shaun has only a week or so to live

[slocumjoe]

It's so funny to think how we both have the incredible specific scenario of 'my sole survivor was stuck somewhere while serving in the military and had to eat his fellow soldiers and now he's a Cannibal'. Its like that Doofinshmirtz meme. Its weird that this happened twice. Here I was thinking I had galaxy brained when I did this a month ago and bam!! You did it too!!

8 END is both a blessing and in the right wrong circumstances, a curse

[jessieren]

I was trying to rack my brains for what to post for Thursday Thursday and then this beauty appeared on my dash

Thank you @magnificentgardenerdinosaur

notmoreflippingelves requested: favorite familial relationship in endeavour - the thursdays (+ their adopted son morse)

- there’s one rule in this house… - where do we leave work? - on the hall stand, by the front door.

[davidtennan-t]

The Birthday Gifts

Rose has a very special gift idea for her Mum's Birthday, but to get it, she's going to need the help of her Uncle.

Words: 5947

If you crave some Fourteen and Rose shenanigans but also lots of Fourteen and Donna angst then look no further than this fic, it’s got it all! Dedicated to my bestie @kottekonst ❤️ Also available on AO3

-

Today was Donna’s 53rd birthday.

The Temple-Noble residence was, therefore, rather busy for a Friday evening. The gathering was shaping up to be moderate – Donna never liked a huge fuss, but plenty of people were soon to be mingling in the large backyard, under a hired tent and the setting sunlight.

Rose had already secured her mother a gift. A bracelet, along with one of her very own handcrafted plushies. It was something of a birthday tradition and Rose was happy with her chosen little critter.

Except, she wasn’t, deep down.

There had been a niggling idea in Rose’s mind for weeks, now, and despite her best efforts to shove the idea aside and be happy with the sparkling bracelet wrapped in a gift box under her bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to do more for her Mum. A true show of appreciation that could speak louder than any words could, without making it too… cringe.

There was a gift much more special and personal out there in the world. All day at school, her thoughts had never been far from this gift… it couldn’t be bought, nor could it be found in any shop.

It also wasn’t the correct year.

It was why collecting this gift had at first seemed impossible to Rose. How could she ever fly herself a whole year into the past?

Most people didn’t have an uncle who could navigate time and space, however.

He was retired, of course, supposed to be resting – and he did, mostly. But nobody enjoyed bending the rules of retirement more so than the Time Lord who was supposed to be doing it.

Especially when it came to his niece.

“So, are you in?”

Sat in the living room away from the hustle and bustle in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea made by none other than the teenage girl perched across from him, the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I can see why you made me the tea, now,” the Doctor regretfully replied, having listened intently to Rose’s idea for the past five minutes.

It had been a particularly strange day, on his part. Social gatherings and parties were so very domestic and human, but he was very much part of the family now. He’d helped Shaun set up the tent, fixed the broken stereo system and even dabbled in blowing up balloons under the watchful eye of Sylvia.

Anything for his Donna.

He’d finished the balloons which were all scattered around him and he'd wandered into the kitchen to make a well-earned cup of tea, when Rose had offered to make him one. Alarm bells should have rung right there and then.

“Come on, I know it will mean so much to Mum – I really want to try and make her happy,” Rose encouraged, sat on the edge of the sofa practically shaking with anticipation.

“You do make her happy, every day,” the Doctor reminded her. He never would have thought he’d be the one trying to discourage sneaking away on a quick trip.

Five months ago, they would have been in the TARDIS already.

This was different, however.

“Not like this, though… please? People will start arriving in a couple of hours and by that point it will be too late. I know the exact day, time, and everything… June 6th, 2023, it will only take two seconds, I promise.”

The Doctor glanced behind his shoulder to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.

"Couldn't we go tomorrow?" the Doctor asked.

"We could, but it wouldn't be the same. Today is her birthday and it just feels... right."

“That's fair, but it could be dangerous... you do understand the risks of bumping into your past self? It would create a paradox that would-”

“-devastate reality around me, I know,” Rose whined, but she grew more serious when she saw the look on the Doctor’s face. “I won’t bump into myself, or Mum… I know exactly when and where to go.”

Delicately deciding if he could truly trust his niece, which he would any day, the Doctor thought of a further barrier. A barrier related to the here and now. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I agreed to take you… how would we get to the TARDIS?” the Doctor asked.

The kitchen they would need to walk through to get to his beloved ship, sat on her perch surrounded by flowers, was currently occupied by Donna and Sylvia, sorting through the mountain of buffet food.

Rose frowned. “I should be able to walk into the garden no problem, but if we both walked through then-”

“-Donna would immediately know what we were up to,” the Doctor finished, looking thoughtful as he took another mouthful of tea and pondered their options. “Listen, I think it’s all a bit too risky. Even if we somehow managed to get past her, it’s her birthday, and she told me specifically the TARDIS was out of bounds today – unless there was an emergency.”

“She always says that, though - and this… sort of…is an emergency?” Rose tried to plea, flexing her hands with a strained smile.

The Doctor placed his now empty mug on the coffee table and turned to Rose, his expression solemn, and one that clearly meant no.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I won’t risk you getting into trouble.”

Definitely a no.

Rose sighed. Then, she curved her mouth downwards, stuck out her bottom lip, and glared straight at the Doctor.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, even though he knew exactly what she was doing.

Rose didn’t reply. She sighed again, for the dramatic effect.

“Now listen, I told you, it’s too risky,” he replied airily.

The pout didn’t faulter.

“That won’t work on me, y’know, so you might as well stop now.”

Still, the pout remained.

The Doctor’s nose twitched. He patted his knees a couple of times, trying his hardest to focus on something else to ignore Rose’s silent plea – didn’t Donna ask him to help with the sandwiches? Oh! There was a gift for Donna he needed to wrap upstairs, wasn’t there?

Gift… he hadn’t even asked Rose what her particularly special gift was. Was it something Donna had lost? It dangerously fuelled his curiosity, and he risked a glance over at the teenager again, who was still pouting in his direction.

The Doctor's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, now rocking gently back and forth as he tried to resist the temptation, but it grew harder as each second ticked by.

"Please, Uncle Spaceman?" Rose said quietly.

"Oh no, don't do that... this isn't... I-I can't..." he stuttered, yielding no result.

How could he say no to her? Clearly, the gift was something really special if her persistence was anything to go by. Something more than a simple gift... it seemed so very special. If it would make Donna happy, then what did he have to lose? Rose would be careful, like she always was. She always listened to him, never wandered off.

The Doctor's entire posture suddenly sagged, and his eyes closed.

There was nobody who could pull his leg like his niece.

Rose stopped pouting, holding her breath with a trepid tilt of the head.

After a moment of defeated silence, the Doctor reopened his eyes and finally spoke. “Fine, I’ll take you,” he said, ignoring the glee of excitement out of the corner of his eye, “but we’re both taking the blame this time, you hear?” he added with a point of his finger, even if he would be the first to defend her if it came down to it.

“Deal,” Rose replied quickly, still engrossed in her victory, but relieved and elated she was getting the chance to go through with her plan. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see the look on her Mum’s face.

A smirk crossed the Doctor’s lips, unintentionally feeling very proud of Rose’s persistence. Would he regret this all later? Probably. Would it help knowing Rose was happy? Absolutely.

“You’ve turned me into a soft touch,” the Doctor mumbled as he stood from the sofa, stretching out his back to release the knots from his period of sitting.

“You’ve always been a soft touch,” Rose replied with a smirk.

“Oi - don’t push it. I might be somewhat retired but I'm still the Lord of Time,” the Doctor jibbed back, “but if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, no matter how much it will sting when we get back.”

Rose chuckled. “So, wait… we’re banned from going into the TARDIS, our route to said TARDIS is blocked but I can go out into the garden without raising suspicion… how are you going to get to the TARDIS without going through Mum? Last time we snuck away only Great-Grandad was home, and he never tells on us anyway,” she pondered, “we’ll both have to go through the kitchen one way or another.”

There was no direct access to the back garden other than through the kitchen, nor was there any way to reach the blue box by leaving the house through the front door. There was, however, a little secret the Doctor had kept to himself, in case of emergency.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself. You’re looking at the man who snuck out of the biggest high-security prison in the Silfrax Galaxy – twice. In one week.”

Rose looked fairly impressed, but the Doctor found it was getting harder and harder to impress the teenager as time went on. There was only so many times he could tell a story about escaping a fleet of Daleks before it grew a little repetitive.

“Tough crowd,” the Doctor uttered, straightening his tartan waistcoat with a sniff, “I’ll use the cellar window, easily done.”

“Wait, you use the cellar window to escape!?” Rose gawped.

“Rose Temple-Noble, how dare you insinuate such a thing. I used it once a couple of weeks after I arrived to get away from Sylvia and her book club,” the Doctor explained, “I do love my dear old mother-in-law, but there’s only so much you can take of them misquoting Charles Dickens. I did offer to take her and the other members to meet him, but she refused… so, I snuck out the window to go for a walk, instead. Haven’t used it since.”

This time, Rose did look impressed.

“Right then… meet you by the TARDIS in three minutes?”

-

Once Rose strolled calmly into the kitchen, complimented her Gran on the very well-presented quiche and offered to help her Mum with the sandwiches – which she knew would be met with a no since nobody could ever tamper with her mother’s sandwiches – she expertly explained she was going to lock up her crafting shed and wouldn’t be too long.

Neither Donna nor Sylvia noticed the Time Lord slipping through the cellar door in the hallway.

“Don’t close those patio doors or we’ll lose the breeze!” Sylvia reminded her granddaughter, who smiled and nodded, trying to edge her way towards the open doors. Donna, who’s hair was wrapped in curlers, suddenly looked a little curious as she added more egg to a tray of sandwiches.

“Where’s your uncle, anyway? He said he was finishing up those balloons an hour ago and that was the last I saw him,” Donna asked.

“Oh, he’s just… he’s just, tinkering! Yeah, tinkering… with the balloons. Balloon tinkering,” Rose replied, much less convincingly than she would have liked. It was a miracle her mother bought it.

“Fair enough – remember, no sneaking off in that blue box, the pair of you. It’s my birthday, I don’t want Sontarans storming the garden, or Ood showing up to cater for the party,” Donna warned, pointing a fork in Rose’s direction, but it was with a motherly smile.

Rose nodded, despite the sudden urge to stop what she was doing and listen to her Mum. Yes, this would make her mad… but it would be so incredibly worth it. “Yes, I know… I’ll be back soon.”

Instead of turning left to go to her crafting shed, Rose made sure neither Donna or Sylvia were looking before she quickly ducked right, under the kitchen window and sneaking around the bushes. Once in the clear, Rose quickly raced over to the blue box basking in the late-afternoon sunshine with a victorious shine in her eyes, the rest of the garden empty.

The Doctor was nowhere to be seen, so Rose leaned against the TARDIS and decided to wait for her uncle to appear.

Rose waited.

And waited.

Then, just to fuel her nerves even further, she waited some more.

Worryingly tapping her foot, the anxious teenager tried to peak around the greenery and flowers. The cellar window was positioned in a clearing surrounded by the bushes her Great-Grandfather loved to take care of, with stone steps leading down to some tables and chairs. There was no sign of her uncle emerging from that clearing.

“Come on, Mum’s going to catch us,” Rose uttered under her breath with a trepid glance at the open patio doors.

“Pst – Rose!”

An urgent, quiet whisper from behind the bushes. Rose perked up at the sound of the Doctors voice.

“What is it?!” Rose replied in a hushed whisper.

“Come here!” came the reply.

“Why?”

“Just come here!”

Rolling her eyes with a frustrated sigh, Rose carefully made her way towards the clearing of bushes, sneaking down the steps while shooting worried stares at the doors. At least the bushes would keep them hidden while in that area – for now.

“Doctor, we need to go, before Mum see-”

Rose was suddenly face to face with the Doctor – or rather, face to face with half of him. He was poking out from the cellar window, evidently agitated with his hands pressed against the wall, his face contorted into a grimace.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she asked.

The Doctor stopped his pushing and glanced up at his niece.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!”

“Oi, don’t get snappy with me, Mum won't like that,” Rose replied, folding her arms while glancing to make sure Donna hadn’t spotted them.

“Well I don't think she'll like any of this if she finds out what we’re doing – now help get me out of here!” the Doctor reiterated, his strained noises making the already anxious teenager even more nervous.

“Just… I dunno, shimmy your through?” Rose replied, somewhat confused.

“Shimmy!? Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” the Doctor replied in another snap, still struggling with the window to prove his point, “See? I can’t!”

“Well, why not?”

The Doctor’s expression fell into a serious but embarrassed glare. He stopped his efforts with a sigh, his diverted gaze looking everywhere but Rose.

“I can’t move,” he replied, in the quietest, most meek tone, like he’d just been caught by Donna with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Say again?” Rose asked.

“I can’t move,” the Doctor repeated. Still far too quiet for Rose to hear.

“Louder for the people in the back, please?” Rose retorted exasperatedly, putting a hand to her ear – completely forgetting they were supposed to be escaping silently.

“I can’t move!” the Doctor finally exclaimed - much too loud, as footsteps suddenly echoed just inside the patio doors. Rose gasped and quickly ducked down beside the Doctor, who grew as stiff as a board.

Donna’s mop of pinned-up ginger hair was visible even through the leaves and blossoming flowers as her head poked out into the garden.

Rose held her breath. The Doctor held his breath, his slightly shaking frame making the spikes of his hair tremble.

“Strange, thought I heard a noise,” Donna shrugged, and with that, she turned away and was gone.

After the pair released their held in breaths, Rose turned her attention back to the Doctor, who was now gritting his teeth.

“Are you saying you’re stuck?” Rose whispered, glancing at the cellar window. Now she was closer, it did look rather tight, with the Time Lord squeezed into it uncomfortably – it was a small window, just big enough for a skinny alien to navigate. Or rather, had been big enough. “How can you be stuck?”

“Keep your voice down!” the Doctor quipped, eyebrows tensed as he glared at his niece, who shot him a very disapproving look.

“Oi! I am! It’s you that’s stressing!” Rose replied while waving her hands at him, “I thought you said you’d used this window before?”

“Yeah, well, that was a five months ago,” the Doctor replied, attempting to tug himself forwards again, but with no result, “clearly, I’ve been enjoying retirement a little too much,” he added through clenched teeth.

Rose watched as he tugged again, realising what her uncle meant – he strained, seemingly slipping through, but at such a slow pace they’d be there for all the party guests to see if he didn’t hurry.

“Come on, you can do it,” Rose encouraged.

It was no wonder his suits had been feeling slightly tighter recently. Five months of ‘three meals a day, Spaceman’ and ‘look, here’s a packet of your favourite biscuits’... and how could he forget lovely little old Mrs Fredrick from next door who always popped around with the odd pie or batch of brownies?

Another few precious seconds ticked by, and the Doctor eventually slumped in defeat, out of breath and still very much caught in the window.

“This is not good,” he admitted, “well, worse than not good, actually… very bad, more like.”

“Okay, okay, chill, we can fix this,” Rose tried to reassure him despite her growing concern. “You just need to twist around a little bit, shift your weight, I’m sure you’ll pop right out.”

The Doctor tried that. A little more progress… which only resulted in more tightness. Eventually, he stopped again, long fingers clutching the soft grass as he tried to catch his breath.

By now, guilt was starting to bubble into Rose’s chest – she’d caused this. If they were caught now, she dreaded to think what her mother would say.

“Listen, let’s just call this whole thing off, I’m not having you hurt yourself because I wanted to-” Rose began, but the Doctor quickly cut her off.

“There is absolutely no way we’re giving up now – just because I’m having a little bit of trouble with this window, does not equal defeat, right?” the Doctor said and he gave Rose his most reassuring smile, despite his predicament.

Rose instantly felt more at ease and she smiled back.

“A little bit of trouble?” Rose questioned, finding humour among the urgency, but also incredibly grateful to the Doctor for not giving in so easily.

“Hey - you try saying no to lovely old Mrs Fredrick when she’s stood at the front door holding an apple pie that she made ‘just for you’,” the Doctor retorted.

It was true… Rose wondered how anyone could say no to that sweet old lady when she stood in her little flowery oven mitts with her baked goods.

“Okay, don't worry, we can do this – I have an idea,” Rose confidently told the Doctor and determinedly got to her feet, holding out both her hands after sparing a glance to the patio doors to check for any sign of her mother. “Give me your hands.”

The Doctor, who admittedly was extremely eager to be free from the window to continue helping his niece, didn’t hesitate to reach up to grasp her outstretched hands. It was an awkward position for his long, thin body, but this was their last chance.

“If your Mum saw this I think she’d laugh rather than get mad,” the Doctor commented.

“Let’s not test the waters – ready?”

And with that, Rose leaned back and began pulling.

They were both quietly delighted when the Doctor began to move immediately, quicker than his lone efforts, but it was still precariously tight for the poor Time Lord.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the patio door.

As if playing musical statues, Rose and the Doctor froze with their hands still clutched together, the Doctor awkwardly stretched with Rose leaning back on her feet, her curly hair swaying in the light breeze.

Donna appeared again and she held out a hand, evaluating the settling beams of the sun.

“Still warm out, Mum - fancy finishing those cocktails in the fridge before we start decorating? I’ll go grab some ice from the cellar, we’ve ran out up here. And I need to find Spaceman, wherever he is, I need help with the rest of these sandwiches,” Donna said as she pulled back her hand from the sun beam she’d been testing and strolled inside.

Rose was sure she’d never seen such panic overtake anyone’s expression as quickly as it overcame the Doctors.

“Rose Temple-Noble, get me out of this window, now.”

“On it.”

Rose resumed her efforts with an added franticness, while the Doctor tried to wriggle the rest of his trapped waist through the window.

After a tense few seconds, he eventually slid through, and Rose gently placed his hands down onto the grass. He was clearly winded from the effort and his arms shook as he tried to lift himself up.

“OI!”

Donna had been expecting to go to the spare freezer for the ice without a care in the world – oh, she loved those cocktails from Lidl.

What she hadn’t been expecting was the sight of her best friend’s lanky legs dangling inside the cellar window.

“What the hell is going on?!” She yelled as she began to march down the old wooden stairs, completely bewildered at the sight.

Outside, Rose practically flung herself at her uncle, helping to heave his exhausted form forwards enough to get him moving. They were both in fight or flight and, in that moment, they both chose flight - no matter the consequences.

Inside, Donna was fast approaching the flailing tartan legs.

“Get your skinny backside back in this house!”

“Come on, come on!” Rose urged the Doctor.

“Is that you Rose? Oh, just you both wait until I-”

Donna reached out to grab one of the disappearing Converse but missed by a mere centimetre as the Doctor’s shoes finally disappeared through the window.

In the time it took her to recover from the near miss and look through the glass, she saw the retreating figures of the Doctor and Rose running through the bushes.

And by the time she’d raced back upstairs and past a very confused Sylvia holding a tray of slightly overcooked sausage rolls, Donna knew it was much too late.

-

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself – go.”

Stood before a very irritated Donna Noble in the back garden, the Doctor and Rose glanced at each other.

For Donna, it had only been two minutes since she’d discovered the Doctor’s dangling legs in the cellar. Two minutes had been enough for her to piece together a familiar puzzle, and so she'd angrily removed the curling blocks from her hair and stood in the back garden, waiting for the familiar whirrs of the TARDIS returning.

“Donna, we’ve only been gone for two minutes, and in my defence-” the Doctor began explaining but was quickly shushed by Donna.

“Not now, Spaceman – Rose, what do you have to say for yourself?”

The Doctor promptly closed his mouth and placed his hands behind his back.

Ah, family…

“Mum, I know this looks bad, but please, don’t be mad, I really wanted to-”

“To what? Fly off to some dangerous alien planet - nearly fall into a black hole? I told both of you I didn’t want anyone jaunting off on my birthday, and yet look where we are!” Donna stated, holding out her arms. Despite the anger she’d already prepared for, Rose stepped forwards with both hands secured behind her back, holding the very item she hoped would be able to save both herself and the Doctor from a grounding.

“Mum, please listen – this was all my idea, and no, we didn’t go flying off looking for trouble. I-… I wanted to get you something, for your birthday.”

Donna’s expression softened.

“Wait – you snuck off to get me a present?” Donna replied, not excusing it, but it was far from what she had expected to hear.

At Rose’s nod, Donna softened even more.

“Rose, darling, you know I’m always telling you not to make a fuss – the Doctor is supposed to be resting, not flying you around time and space to go shopping. This is the third time in two months you two have gone flying off together without me knowing… I don’t ground you both to be mean, I do it because I worry about you. Both of you.”

The Doctor looked a little meek as Donna shot him a glare to make sure he knew the impact of her words. He diverted his gaze downwards, as Rose took another defiant step forwards.

“But if I told you where we were going you would have said no, and it would have ruined the surprise, so…”

Donna’s hard stare returned, but she was no longer furious. “Maybe if you’d asked me first, I would have said yes, but instead, you had your uncle climbing through our cellar window? You both lied to me - on my birthday, no less.”

The Doctor didn’t just see but could physically sense the excitement dripping away from Rose’s posture and he couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

Domestics never used to be his thing. Once over, he would have run away and hid from a confrontation of this very nature. Now, it was time to defend his niece.

“Donna, it’s really not her fault – I agreed to do it, for her,” he explained, “and I really think you should look at what she’s gotten you.”

Donna sighed. Even she could see her daughter’s excitement dwindling… her kind, beautiful, wonderful daughter, no less.

“Okay, fine,” Donna gave in with a small smile, and Rose shot the Doctor a thankful smile before she revealed the object from behind her back, holding it out for her Mum to take.

This was it.

“Happy Birthday, Mum.” Rose smiled.

Donna reached out and gently took the gift from Rose.

It was a crumpled piece of paper.

“Oh… what’s this?” Donna questioned.

“Remember last year when we were walking through the park and you pulled out your purse, but it was really windy, and everything flew out? Receipts, money…” Rose trailed off.

It took a moment, but Donna soon recalled the event Rose described.

“Yeah, it was that cheap old purse from Primark, fell to bits, didn’t it… and I lost…”

This time, Donna’s voice trailed off. She immediately began to unfold the crumpled paper, which was dirty, but still intact. When the paper finally opened, Donna felt her throat begin to tighten, her eyes began to burn.

“You lost the last thing Grandad ever wrote down for you.”

Donna held the paper like it was made of crystal… like it was the most precious thing in the entire Universe.

On the paper, in Geoff’s handwriting, the words read:

You’ll do amazing things, my girl. Love, Dad.

“You never told me, but I knew after Dad said you’d lost it that day,” Rose explained, “I remember I watched it fly away into bush and I didn’t say anything, because I thought it was just a random bit of paper - not anything important. So, now you have it back.”

Donna sniffed, reaching up to wipe the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Never would she have thought she’d be holding this again.

“So… y-you went back in time to pick it up?” Donna asked, shakily.

Rose nodded.

“The Doctor took us to the exact day, a few minutes after we’d originally left the park. I was worried it might have blown away, but it was there, in that same bush. No trips to Mars, no sneaking off to the 1800’s, no-”

Rose was interrupted by her mother’s tight embrace.

“You don’t have to say anymore, sweetheart,” Donna said, still clutching the paper in her hand, “I forgive you for sneaking off. I’m so sorry for being so mad,” Donna apologised, holding onto her daughters curls tightly. "Thank you so much."

Rose lifted her arms and hugged her Mum back, smiling with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

“Go and show your Gran, she’ll be just as surprised as me,” Donna suggested, pulling back from the hug to cup her daughters face. “And I mean it this time when I say no more sneaking away. This-” she placed the paper into Rose’s hand, “was more than I ever could have asked for.”

Before Rose even considered making her way back to the house, she turned to run up to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around him tightly. The Time Lord, having stood in absolute silence with a slight wetness in his eyes, quickly returned Rose’s embrace.

“Thank you,” Rose said.

The Doctor didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled back and gave her a wink. A wink that said everything he needed it to.

The garden was silent once more as Donna watched her daughter retreat into house, elated at the surprise gift and kindness of the gesture.

Suddenly, the silence was broken.

“Am I forgiven?”

Donna closed her eyes and shook her head – but the faintest of humorous smiles sat on her thinned lips.

“I’m still debating on that,” Donna stated, turning to face the Doctor, “you did promise me you wouldn’t fly off under any circumstances today.”

“Oh, come on,” The Doctor replied, “when she told me her idea, I couldn’t say no… it touched both my hearts, I’ll have you know. She’s as thoughtful and kind as her mother.”

“Oh no you don’t, Brainbox, flattery will get you nowhere,” Donna jibbed, but she was smiling as the Doctor approached.

“You know I don’t mind you taking her on the odd trip here and there, but when I said I worry, I mean it… if something happened to you while you were out, what would happen to Rose?”

“I wouldn’t let anything like that happen, Donna… HADS, remember?”

“Yeah, well, the HADS are one thing… but alien potatoes pointing rifles at my daughter would be another, just to name one example.”

“Again,” the Doctor said, “wouldn’t let it happen. I try not to go looking for trouble as much, these days.”

The look on Donna’s face grew sharper and he realised he couldn’t be so nonchalant.

“Okay… I’m sorry.”

Donna sighed. “I know you are,” she replied, nudging the Doctor in the side with her arm, “you just can’t resist that niece of yours, can you?”

Of course he couldn’t. She was his world now… they all were.

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘p’.

Donna slinked an arm around the Doctor’s waist, and he in turn wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When Donna squeezed him however, he unintentionally winced and let go.

Surprised, Donna immediately loosened her own grip.

“Spaceman? You alright?”

The Doctor quickly recovered from the sudden stinging sensation and shook his head. “Oh… don’t worry, it’s nothing. Just a little strain from… well, never mind. Moving on - still need help with the sandwiches?”

“Strain from what?” Donna asked, concerned enough to ignore his attempt at diverting the conversation.

“Nothing, it’s honestly nothing, Donna, I promise,��� the Doctor sniffed.

“Doctor, tell me,”

“It’s nothing!”

That clearly meant it was something.

“Wait a minute…” Donna declared, her concern losing its edge, but not entirely, “that’s right, I remember now - you were hanging halfway out of that cellar window when I caught you.”

The Doctor’s cheeks were suddenly the same shade as the pink flowers in the nearest plant pot. “You mean nearly caught me,” he corrected her, quietly.

Donna inhaled. "Okay, nearly caught you...any reason why?"

"No."

“Aw… did the retired Time Lord have a little trouble escaping through a window?”

“What? Nah…” the Doctor pied off, a little too quickly, “walk in the park, that was. Just a bit of an awkward angle. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Donna reached out and prodded the Doctor in the middle – where her finger would have once met complete flatness, it instead sunk into a small mound of softness which filled out the once loose shirt. When the Doctor instantly swatted her hand away with a grimace, she knew.

She knew her best friend, his expressions, his body language... that sadness lingering behind his eyes.

“Oh, Spaceman,” she sighed while gazing up into those round brown eyes. The Doctor noticed and raised his eyebrows.

“What?” he uttered.

Donna gently moved her hands to the front of the Doctor’s stomach, between his open waistcoat.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked, growing stiff again at the prospect of his sore skin being jabbed, but he was surprised to feel a gentle touch, Donna’s palms resting on his tiny belly.

“Nothing, just… I’ve noticed these past few weeks how much healthier you’re looking. More there.”

More there? The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“But… I was there, here, wherever, before, wasn’t I?” the Doctor said in a high-pitched squeak.

“You were, but not like this,” Donna replied, thinking back to watching the two Doctors fighting for the fate of humanity with a ball – the new Doctor had exuded so much energy and youth… her Doctor, this Doctor, had looked pale, thin, exhausted. “I was so worried about you, all that time leading up to that bloody game of catch. You were burned out. Thin as a pin, remember?”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today,” the Doctor replied.

“Yeah well,” Donna began, “seeing you like this, with a bit of meat on your bones and your face looking less gaunt and sunken in… it’s on par with Rose’s surprise gift. I don’t want fancy watches or spa days for my birthday. I want my best friend to be healthy… that is such a wonderful gift. And I've never been happier to realise you had trouble squeezing out of a window.”

The Doctor was silent. Donna’s sincerity was finally beginning to sink in as he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when no words came out.

Yes, he had days he struggled… oh, sometimes he could scream and cry into any open abyss. Wounds would flare, his mind would play tricks on him, or he’d spot someone on the street resembling Amy, Clara, or Bill… and he’d want to run. This extra weight... he hadn't realised it, but the doubts had crept up.

But Donna. She kept him grounded. His family kept him grounded – and hearing such soft, sweet words made him feel better about ever getting caught in that bloody window.

“I only want what’s best for you, Spaceman… and this,” Donna said, rubbing her hand softly over the Doctors tighter shirt, “tells me we must be doing something right.”

Tears were blurring his vision now. His throat felt constricted, and his lower lip wobbled.

“You could never do wrong by me. Any of you,” he replied, in the quietest, most fragile whimper.

Donna always expected to have a little cry on her birthday, every year – but now, for the second time that afternoon, she wanted to cry again and let her tears build.

“Come here, you big old softie,” she said, moving her hands to pull the Doctor firmly into a hug. He chuckled through his own tears and fell into Donna’s arms, his head tucking against her shoulder – and she held him. Firmly but softly. Quietly, but with the odd sniff from both of them.

“And for the record, Spaceman – yes, I do forgive you.”

The Doctor’s wobbling lip crept into a smile.

"Happy birthday, Donna Noble."

[dykedvonte]

what do you think Danse does to keep himself busy after blind betrayal, specifically if he's living in sanctuary? I just love your takes on him a lot haha

I think Danse is very lost in any settlement but especially Sanctuary. It was the first and very close-knit at that with the small group the Sole Survivor founded it with. Each time they would invite a new companion to live there it was like adding a pillar to the community and represented what the Minute Men stood for when it came ot uniting and protecting the commonwealth as one. I am not going to say it's cliquey, in fact I feel like SoSu and Preston/Sturges would go out of their way to make newcomers feel welcome but for Danse that is very different.

He (from my playthrough experience) is one of the later companions. I ran around a lot and got a good portion of the companions and their quest before act one was done. He is also one of the few companions who openly thinks lowly of life in the commonwealth and certain citizens (if not all citizens to an extent). He did not introduce himself to Sanctuary to make friends or roots. So when he gets stuck there under the SoSu's "orders" (not letting him rot in sorrow in some random bunker) he doesn't have any comfort or companionship, in fact, I think he has more tensions and beef tbh.

I imagine the first weeks or even a month or two were rough. I don't think it is stated enough that like Danse went to that bunker intending to follow Brotherhood protocols and kill himself. SoSu may have convinced him not to in the moment but with someone like Danse, so rigid and stuck in an ideology even after it spits in his face, it's not unlikely he has a weird guilt about being alive at first. It doesn't help that I know in my heart that a few of the more petty or insensitive companions or settlers would tease him about it (playful meanness) thinking he was adjusting well (or not caring) to the Sanctuary life and coming to terms with his identity. Sometimes they go too far and it's easy to tell he's gotten back into the headspace, looking at his reflection, trying to remember concrete dates for his memories, etc..

I have this head canon that SoSu recognized this pattern as they had to have immense survivor's guilt (especially after being in Kellogs brain) about surviving the vault. They had the same idea about making things "fair" for the other vault dwellers and Shaun was the only thing between them and those thoughts for a while. For the first weeks it was a lot of SoSu monitoring him and making sure he was adjusting and not falling back into that thinking, y'know the whole "I am a disgrace and abomination against the Brotherhood and humanity. The only thing I can do to no longer sully the honor of either is to kill mys-" Like stopping that with minor distractions.

It would be a lot of small work and building projects and patrols for lost scavengers or to make sure no one is stalking the place. It's nice for him for a while, he's getting social interaction and he's not dead in the eyes of at least one Brotherhood member, especially one of as high rank as the SoSu. But it's also really unhealthy. Danse was trained and raised in a militaristic pseudo-religious faction. As much as there seemed to be casualness towards comrades there was a strict structure and order. He shoves the SoSu into that role and probably gets nick-named as their shadow during this period.

They are his only goal as he has nothing else and it shows bad. The rest of the settlement notices he trails after them and only really does his own thing when it's part of a task he was doing for, with or assigned by the Sole survivor. It's not an obsession with them specifically but he has lost his entire understanding of life and this is the one thing that stayed concrete. He does what he's asked of because following the Sole survivor has at least kept him belonging somewhere and why mess that up?

I am sure SoSu is not oblivious and is actively trying to figure out how to get Danse to start socializing and trying to actually settle into the community but for the time being Danse would treat himself like the machine he perceives himself as; Overworking himself as he believes machines don't need the same amount of rest, isolating himself and mostly trying to not have a mental breakdown every time he get into the power armor that is very much not his issued Brotherhood of Steel tech. He openly does this in respect of the General who hates it and makes everyone else uncomfortable.

this was very long just to say I think Danse just works himself to the bone all day and purposely puts thoughts in his already fragile psyche that everyone hates him and only tolerates his presence to not seem Synth-phobic and the Sole survivor's favor.

[teecupangel]

I’ve recently noticed (as in I only noticed recently, not it only happened recently) a distinct lack of it in your content so I thought I’d ask: opinion on EziDesAltCon? (I never know which order it’s supposed to be) cause to me it just seems like the obvious conclusion.

I honestly don’t know if there’s an ‘official’ shipping name for it. I usually go for AltDesEziCon, in the order of their games XD

I like it. Honestly, I’m all in for them being in a polycule or if this is primarily a Desmond harem XD

I cannot remember if I have ever answered something like this but there was this Desmond harem in a Royal ‘Family’ AU idea last year so I’ll focus on a poly kind of situation for this one.

Have some unorganized notes!

They all fall in love with Desmond first and it starts of as them being rivals for Desmond’s affection.

Altaïr and Ezio are highly competitive and tries to one man each other. Ratonhnhaké:ton is more of a chill dude but turns out to just be as competitive. He’s just more sly about it. There have been many Altaïr versus Ezio competitions that ended with Ratonhnhaké:ton’s stealth wins and it was all planned.

Desmond loves them all and realize that Altaïr and Ezio’s competitiveness is kinda like their foreplay.

He gets the idea of making them fall in love with one another so they can all be together (and Desmond doesn’t have to make a choice)

Shaun thought he was mad, Rebecca was more on the side of “It’s crazy enough to work”, Clay is there to watch the chaos unfold.

The Auditore family has an ongoing joke of disowning Ezio and adopting the others if he breaks up with any or all of them (not that it would happen)

Everyone but Ratonhnhaké:ton call Haytham ‘father-in-law’ to fuck with him. One time, Ezio calls him ‘father-in-law’ during a party with a lot of rich people and that’s how people learn that Haytham’s ‘unknown’ son is dating 3 dudes all at the same time.

They all call William Miles ‘Bill’ though.

This is full on modern day now apparently so Desmond’s parents are divorced and his mom married Minerva. Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton call Minerva stepmother-in-law while Desmond and Altaïr call her ‘Minerva’. Minerva just rolls with it and calls Desmond’s beaus “my stepson’s harem.” (this is honestly inspired by what @thedragonqueen1998 and I talked about in the comments of EOA XD)

They all live in a big apartment and have the biggest bed their friends have ever seen. They have a schedule on who does what chore each week. Altaïr is rarely given kitchen duties because he will season the ingredients and put it all in the oven. It’s not bad but Ezio keeps teasing him about his lack of variety. Ezio is forbidden to do groceries unsupervised because one time he bought more than they needed because things were ‘on sale’.

Altaïr’s grandfather doesn’t mind the number of lovers he has or that they’re men. He’s still annoying Altaïr to give him great grandchildren before he dies though.

Kids are not off the table but they want to spend time with each other first. (They all agree the oldest must be Desmond’s XD)

Malik is worried that Kadar would think that he could be invited into the poly. Kadar is honestly just living vicariously through Desmond at this point. He and Rebecca are the only two people Desmond confesses all the kinky shit they get into.

Leonardo knows the kinky shit they get into courtesy of Ezio.

Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn’t tell anyone the kinky shit they get into but Rebecca sometimes ask him for clarification because she knows he won’t embellish anything. (“Even the skydiving thing?” “Altaïr had to research a lot about that one”)

They sometimes go on doubledates and switch partners in different points of the day.

They have movie night every Sunday and the one who picks the movie is Desmond → Altaïr → Ezio → Ratonhnhaké:ton. Sometimes, movie night is in the comforts of their home, other times it’s in the movie theatres.

They schedule their offs so all of them can be together. Ezio is the one who mostly suggests they go somewhere which the others don’t mind.

Desmond always sleep in the middle of the bed, surrounded by the men he loves.

[sirfrogsworth]

The Pretty Average Trump Trauma

I really picked the wrong week to have a controversial post go viral.

The appeal deadline for my disability case is very soon and we just recently got the last of the medical records. My lawyer can get very busy and hard to reach. And I have been freaking out trying to get a hold of him to make sure everything is ready to be submitted. Thankfully he just emailed and said everything is on track and will be sent in for the appeal.

But having this weighing on me behind the scenes while also dealing with the blowback from my "vote for Biden" post caused me to enter into some unhealthy arguments and lose my temper on several occasions.

I didn't actually think about what would happen if that post went viral. Sometimes I write things and a hundred people see it, and it serves as a catharsis because I was able to get my thoughts and fears out of my brain.

And sometimes it gets reblogged 6000 times and I can forget I have a platform where that happens from time to time.

I wish I had written a better initial post. I think my thoughts in subsequent posts, along with the inclusion of what I think is a better strategy, would have gone a long way to help people understand my point of view. Looking back, that original post feels incomplete.

The post that ended up going viral was not inspired by reason or logic and it was never really meant to convince anyone of anything.

I thought I was preaching to the choir.

It was a representation of my fears. It was the result of two years of panic and trauma from the pandemic which ended in my mother's horrible death.

Let me explain...

On November 9th, Shaun, a YouTuber I respect, posted this.

And it scared the hell out of me.

A very popular leftist with a huge platform wrote this to 5 million people and I freaked out.

Shaun wasn't necessarily saying not to vote for Biden at the time. But he thinks people should all say they won't vote for him unless he calls for a ceasefire. I get the strategy. But I feared that nuance would be lost on many people and they would only see it as "don't vote for Biden... no matter what." Which was an accurate prediction on my part. The guy from Eve 6 has been going nuance-free for weeks now.

The one thing I greatly disagree with Shaun about is this...

Before the pandemic, I might have understood his argument. For the first two years, Trump was mostly an ineffectual goof. He had trouble getting a lot of his worst ideas to manifest. Most of the border wall he built ended up being repairs of existing barriers. And Obama droned civilians and kept kids in cages too—though Trump kept them in cages indefinitely and made up a rule that we can't actually know how many civilians he was droning.

So, a lot of the same, but turned up to 11.

But nothing about the pandemic response was pretty average.

There is something I have been choosing not to say during all of these discussions. I felt like saying it would be poor timing. I was worried people wouldn't actually agree with me. I worried it would make people think I was turning suffering into a competition. I didn't want to make it look like I valued certain lives over others. But then people accused me of all of that anyway. I was called evil and a collaborator and a supporter of genocide.

So I'm going to talk about it. Because the fact that few have mentioned it in these discussions has been bothering me. And the fact that the majority of society does not mention it makes me feel very alone in this belief.

I have long believed Trump and the majority of US conservatives committed a genocide of the disabled and elderly. I was never really comfortable calling it that word. I wasn't really sure how a genocide got classified as such. So I would just say things like, "40% of people who died during COVID should still be alive" and "Trump is responsible for hundreds of thousands of COVID deaths" and "Trump killed my mom" and hoping people would make the connection or at least see it as mass murder. I mean, this country judges everything by how many "9/11s" something is, but not the pandemic?

Donald Trump was the leader of the Republican party. When he refused to wear a mask due to vanity, his followers looked for something to excuse him. And I feel that directly birthed the "masks don't work" movement among conservatives. Donald Trump, having enormous influence among his acolytes, refused to correct this dangerous rhetoric. And he probably welcomed the cover so he could continue going maskless and not smear his makeup—even after he nearly died.

It is my belief this was the beginning of a genocide of apathy, deliberate and accidental incompetence, and non-compliance. And the reason for that non-compliance was not freedom as many claimed.

Conservatives did not like being inconvenienced.

They didn't like having to consider others.

And if competence requires effort and vigilance, they'd prefer doing the bare minimum.

Trump was famous for not filling vital administrative positions in the executive branch. Not only that, his turnover rate was 5 times higher than previous administrations. People were asked to do the job of several people because they didn't staff properly, and so those people quit. Thus creating a cycle of inexperienced new-hires that were out of their depth and asked to do much more than they bargained for. There is no way they could succeed in their jobs.

I think people forget that part of the role of the executive is the day-to-day boring administrative shit that is required to run a country. And when this day-to-day work isn't valued, it creates a crisis of incompetence. Which then creates things like not enough tests, not enough testing, Trump saying "if you don't test, it doesn't count", botched vaccine rollouts, rampant misinformation, poor education of the populace, and abysmal improvised press conferences where the President does a quick riff on injecting bleach.

This competence aspect is one of the hugest reliefs I had with the Biden administration. Not Biden. Not his policies. I'm talking about the regular workers getting shit done. This is the reason I am desperate to get my shit worked out with Social Security before the election. I once called Social Security during the pandemic and I literally got a recording saying to try calling back the next month.

Trump didn't care. People criticized him for not hiring people. He was aware of the problem. He just did nothing about it. And many conservatives praised him for "trimming the fat" or whatever. This idea that all of these government workers were useless burdens on the taxpayer fell apart during the pandemic.

There is incompetence caused by ignorance but it can also be a deliberate act. Trump was extraordinary in all forms of incompetence. He wasn't qualified to manage a pandemic. But he could have easily appointed experts and then gotten out of the way. But his narcissism would not let him cede power to anyone. He has always been convinced "only Trump can save you" and so his ego helped kill nearly half a million people.

Once the incompetence ball got rolling, that's when malicious apathy reared its ugly head. It was time to choose who they cared least about dying—who they felt was most useless. Conservatives decided it was time to devalue lives and start making sacrifices to save politicians' money laundering fronts small businesses.

Popular conservatives were going on TV and saying it was okay if Grandma died. It would be a worthy sacrifice to protect our freedoms.

The Lt. Governor of Texas, Dan Patrick, basically offered up the elderly for sacrifice all while claiming that he spoke for them and was also willing to die. Though I don't take his personal willingness very seriously, since he has the money and resources to get the best medical care and probably had no expectation he was in any danger.

“No one reached out to me and said, ‘As a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ But if they had? If that is the exchange, I’m all in. So my message is let’s get back to work. Those of us who are 70-plus, we’ll take care of ourselves.”

But you cannot just sacrifice the elderly. You may justify it by saying they have lived a long life, but many of the same health risks were shared by the disabled. Many of whom still had normal lifespans, but just needed extra care and protection.

There are countless elderly who cannot "take care of themselves" but they are still of value to our society. They are still loved. They watch and teach their grandchildren. They are the keepers of the family stories. They bake cookies and give you two dollar bills. They have random bowls of butterscotch all throughout their house.

But some need help. Some are sick. Some can't drive. Some can't walk. I guarantee not all of them were prepared to die for the cause.

And none deserved to die for a sports bar.

Oh, didn't I mention?

Dan Patrick owned a chain of sports bars that were losing money from the lockdowns. Did you really think he was sacrificing old folks "for the children"?

Thankfully Dan's sports bars are gonna be okay. He ended up receiving a $179,000 PPP loan... that was forgiven.

Then they started saying COVID deaths weren't COVID deaths.

"Well, they had a bad heart." "They were obese." "They had cancer."

They dropped the elderly excuse and began to openly devalue the disabled as well. If you were sick, what good were you? They considered us the next sacrifices for their convenience. If we wanted to survive, we shouldn't have gotten sick. It didn't matter that we could survive for years or even have a normal lifespan as long as we were protected by our communities.

And then began the non-compliance.

Trump's followers ignored masks and lockdowns and eventually vaccines. They were unwilling to protect the vulnerable and so many of us just... died.

Again, 40% of the US COVID deaths could have been prevented. Hundreds of thousands of people should still be here. Malicious apathy, incompetence, and non-compliance were the direct cause of this genocide.

The United Nations Genocide Convention identified 5 acts that typically constitute genocide. Only one act is required and in the pandemic 3 of the 5 acts happened.

Killing members of a group. Causing members of a group serious bodily harm. Imposing living conditions on that group that would destroy them.

I'm looking at that third one just now and realizing why we have advocates to remind us of vulnerable groups that need protection. I was thinking about how the elderly and disabled were trapped in hyper-contagious nursing homes and care facilities, but I completely forgot about prisons and the concentration camps at the borders.

I am not trying to diminish the awful things happening in Palestine right now. This is not a comparison of suffering—but a reminder. When a current terrible thing is happening, it can be hard to focus on anything else. But I do wish more people recognized what happened as a genocide and that the leader of that genocide, the one with the power to stop it, was Donald Trump. If we are going to base this voting decision entirely on acts of genocide, why is this not part of the consideration?

It is an awful moral calculus we have to figure out. One president is supporting and asking for funding for a genocide and I feel the other was the direct cause of another genocide. That's why I said both choices sucked. And the only way I could resolve this moral calculation was by asking what path would cause the least harm for everyone involved.

And the most disappointing aspect of all of these debates was the ableism. People told me if Trump was elected and I lost my benefits I should grow my own food and learn about medicine. They said I valued disabled lives above those in Gaza. They told me to imagine myself in Nazi Germany as a collaborator despite the fact I would have been euthanized.

But I felt like they weren't considering the disabled at all.

I am a disability advocate. So of course I am going to remind people to consider us in their voting decisions. But I'm tired of hearing I value lives differently just because I speak on behalf of a vulnerable group more often. I'm tired of continually having to justify my existence. And I'm tired of people dismissing the very real trauma caused by Trump.

It was not pretty average.

I'd like to tell you the full story of my mother's passing. All of the details. Even the ones I can't bear to type. But this isn't just my story. This is the story of countless others who had to watch their loved ones slowly die behind glass or over the phone or on an iPad.

I spent two years in constant anxiety trying to protect my two very sick parents. It was always assumed that my father was the most at risk. And that he was probably going to die long before my mother. But she had started a treatment for her psoriatic arthritis that turned the volume down on her immune system. Something that would normally not be a huge risk... but a pandemic changed that. A vaccine needs a functioning immune system to protect someone.

She could either accept the agony of stopping treatment or risk getting COVID. If people would have been willing to protect her, it would have been an easier choice. And she would still be around today. And I wouldn't have to worry about being homeless right now.

I don't know for sure when she was infected. I kept her inside as much as possible. But she needed those treatments and we had to pile into a crowded waiting room every time. And I remember a man in his fifties who seemed preoccupied with having to wear a mask. And when he thought no one was looking, he'd pull it down below his nose. A few days later she was being taken away in an ambulance.

A few weeks before my mother died, she called me on the phone. She was heavily medicated and they had two different breathing devices assisting her. The nurse was holding the phone up to her ear and she was trying to speak over the volume of the air rushing into her face from the masks. I could not hear her no matter how loud she yelled. So she asked the nurse to take the masks off for just a second so we could talk.

Her only concern was for my father. We all contracted COVID and she was so worried he would end up just like her. Thankfully the vaccine worked for him and he was okay at that moment. But she kept yelling, "Is Dad okay? Is Dad okay?" And I kept trying to tell her he was fine, but she was hard of hearing and the phone could not be held very close to her ear.

Unfortunately, the yelling made it harder and harder for her to breathe. She started gasping for air. The nurse kept insisting she put the breathing equipment back on, but my mom refused. "I want to talk to my son! I need to talk to my son!"

I knew there wasn't much we could do to communicate. And so I kept trying to yell "I love you, Mom. Everyone is fine. I love you!" I then asked the nurse to tell her that. And when she finally understood what I was saying, she burst into tears.

Her oxygen levels were getting dangerously low and she was fighting the nurse. And she just yelled out, "I'm so scared! I think I'm going to die! Tell Dad I'm sorry I can't take care of him! I don't want to die!" She kept repeating that over and over. The nurse had no choice and had to put the masks back on. My mom screamed and shouted "No! Please no! That's my son!"

And those were the last words I ever heard from my mother.

Gasping for air. Scared of dying. Worried about her family.

This moment has intrusively popped into my brain on a regular basis since it happened. It happens when I'm awake. It happens in my dreams. I have no control over it. I just have to keep experiencing it like it is happening for the first time.

After I saw that tweet from Shaun and then many others expressing the same thing (without the strategic aspect), my dread and trauma resurfaced with a vengeance. I've been reliving my mom's final words in my dreams. That moment keeps popping into my head. I feared the man I feel is most responsible for my mother's death may regain power and kill me and the last of the family I have left.

I keep asking myself the same questions over and over. What if there is another public health emergency? What happens to my trans friends if he turns the US into Florida and Texas? What will happen to the migrants at the border?

All I have is my two best friends. Katrina is gay and Delling is trans and disabled. All of us are vulnerable.

I wrote that post to help deal with the nightmares. Writing is part of my coping process. I didn't really expect it to go super viral. I just needed to get that out of my brain. But when people pushed back and started calling me evil and a collaborator and that I was valuing my life above those in Palestine, all with a huge heap of ableism, I found myself unable to let it go and not respond. I couldn't choose the healthy thing and step away.

While I feel I made some good arguments and put forth some solid ideas for other ways to handle this, I also got angry and lost my temper and stayed in arguments for way too long—all to my mental detriment.

My little world felt like it was collapsing and the world at large also felt like it was collapsing. I had personal horrors in my mind mixing with the horrors of this global conflict.

It was too much.

I don't regret what I posted. Many felt the same as I do. And I think my subsequent posts did a good job of expanding on my thoughts while also offering hope for alternate solutions.

But I do regret the timing and I wish I hadn't lost my temper. Especially in a reply I left with a lot of cussing.

People might disagree but I am hoping that people can understand the fear and trauma that influences my point of view.

I am actually willing to risk quite a lot to protect other people. Even people in faraway lands I don't know.

But I refuse to offer up the vulnerable to be sacrificed if it won't actually help anyone. That's what a Texas Lt. Governor would do.

[mirrorthoughts]

The Identity Crisis of Desmond Miles

Alright, here we are 😂 Thanks to everyone who has voted on my poll (and yes, I know it's not over yet but I wrote this already anyway 😂), I’m actually surprised I got more than 10 votes (and all of them on a yes 💕(the one for the results was mine 😂I wanted to see how it’s going)).

So yeah, Blorbo thoughts about Desmond’s brain, how the Animus maybe-probably works on it and how it’s actually possible that Desmond still has a (probably in the end very weak) grasp of his own identity (below a readmore, because I don’t know how long this will get 😂😂)

The Start

First a few facts I will base this whole… essay on

Desmond learns skills from his ancestors, so the Animus has to impact him deeper than only on a surface level (surface level would be like playing a VR version of a game).

I don’t have the precise ages/dates in mind for the lifespans of Altair, Ezio and Connor, but even if I’m being conservative we’ll get at least 80+ years of other people’s memories in contrast to Desmond’s 25 years of life (…just realized he’s about half a year older than me, so maybe it’s not a surprise he’s one of my forever-blorbos <.<…), one of those, namely Ezio’s he actually ‘lived’ from birth to retirement (= ~55-60 years).

AC Revelations is the only real glance into Desmond’s own memories (aside from what he tells us at the beginning of AC1 and 2). From a doylistic view I know that Ubisoft probably just didn’t want to expend more effort to create Desmond’s memories the same as his ancestor’s, especially because they probably knew at that point they would kill him in the next installment anyway. From a watsonian view the way his memories are all bare bones - mostly his voice talking as if it was a story he remembers and not something he actually lived, without people/faces and places he knew - comes across as if he doesn’t really remember all that much anymore, as if they were really old memories buried by the rest of his (or rather his ancestors’) life.

The brain can hold a lot of information and memories. Even more than you might think. We all know about those Guiness World Records guys that taught themselves to easily remember a myriad of numbers, words, things, whatever. I actually recently saw a very good video about how to do that even as a ‘normal person’. And I’m not even talking about people with photographic, eidetic, echoic or other types of ‘perfect memory’. So, I think we can agree on: the brain is fucking awesome (most of the time) and probably can actually handle the 130+ years Desmond has experienced.

Desmond

Desmond’s ‘life’, according to what his brain experiences when he was in Abstergo’s hands looks a bit like this: Desmond (25yrs) -> Altair (however many days/weeks) -> Desmond (one night’s sleep) -> Altair (however many days/weeks) -> Desmond (one night’s sleep) -> repeat until he gets broken out of Abstergo.

And it only gets worse. Yes, he gets more “free time” when he’s with Shaun and Rebbecca, but at the same time he experiences weeks, if not months of Ezio’s life at a time! Sometimes even years. (We can argue about how the time jump-function works in the Animus, but he still gets the information of what happened how during that time because Ezio knows all of that shit, so even if it’s not as detailed as what he actually actively lives through he still gets the memory of what happened during that time as far as I’m concerned).

And then we have the most extreme ratio in Revelations: Mere seconds of being Desmond (hello computer/brain-speed!) against another few months/about a year of Ezio’s time.

During AC3 it’s not as clear cut how much time he spends in the Animus, thanks to them being inside, but I’d guess they’re about at the same ratio as with AC2, maybe a bit better since he does get to go on missions outside.

In total that makes maybe three months of Desmond’s time (it’s about half a year from when he got kidnapped to when he dies minus all the time he was in the animus. Tbh I think it’s even less than three months he has as Desmond/himself during that time) against literal decades of memories and experiences of his ancestors during the same time. And of course the Bleeding Effect that even disturbs his ‘Desmond time’.

So much for the ‘mathematical’ side of it all 😂

To summarize: Every memory that Desmond makes as himself is overshadowed by dozens of memories he makes as one of his ancestors. So piece by piece, Desmond’s own memories get buried deeper and deeper in his head and those 25 years he actually was only Desmond get fainter and fainter as the new memories he’s making as his ancestors are getting favored by his brain.

Identity Crisis

At this point, it wouldn’t be surprising if Desmond really believed himself to be Ezio, right? After all he’s lived about 55 years of Ezio, he remembers being born as him (and wasn’t that an awkward scene to play… nevermind experience for Desmond), growing up as him, and of course everything we as the player played through with Ezio. And although aside from some verbal outbursts against especially Lucy and a few scenes of the Bleeding Effect we actually don’t see much of it during the game (as far as I remember at least). But we also know about the in-game consequences of using the Animus in detail - hello Clay - and that Abstergo doesn’t really care about the effects of the Animus on their victims as long as they get from them what they want/need.

And yes, Rebecca’s Baby 2.0 was optimized by her to make it better/easier for Desmond. But better/lesser effects still means there will be some effects. And also… afaik Rebbecca has her informations about the Animus from whatever Lucy ‘smuggled out’ of Abstergo. Lucy is said to be a Templar spy, so what informations did she really give Rebecca? Bc as far as I’m concerned it would be to Lucy’s/the Templar’s advantage if Desmond would find them what they need more or less by his own choice and then is brain gets scrambled to hell and back so the Assassins won’t be able to get more informations themselves, right?

Anyway, @Raett (who was a lovely participant in the discussion of these thoughts) hit me with that lovely sentence of “If you've spent more time being 'Ezio' than being 'Desmond' than what's to say [you aren’t] Ezio with memories of Desmond?”

And… just imagine. You’ve just gone through decades of memories, your own memories are faint right now (see point 3) and you’re not quite sure if those actually are your memories or if that’s just something you’ve seen. Maybe you are Ezio after all? Maybe you only dreamt of those ‘memories’ of Desmond - after all that weird vision of a woman that called you the Prophet also talked about someone with that Name! Okay, alright, then you are obviously Ezio, right? You remember your family, your sister, after all you write to her regularly when you are not visiting. You remember Constantinopoli, you remember traveling to Masyaf, you remember finding Altair’s body, his memories.

Wait.

You remember more of Altair then the memory discs have shown you. How can you remember more of Altair’s life? It was already a miracle in your eyes that you saw his memories at all! You remember someone named Connor, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You remember him living in the future, not as far as Desmond, but still far closer to him than yourself. How can you remember the future if you are Ezio? But you remember your - Ezio’s - whole life, so you have to be Ezio, right? But you also remember Altair’s life. Not all of it, but years of it. And you remember Ratonhnhaké:ton, remember how he became Connor, remember his work and life up to somewhere in his later twenties.

And you remember, though faintly, Desmond. You remember that diabolical machine Desmond used. You remember what he was forced to do.

You can remember remembering, reliving your memories.

Are they really yours? Or maybe, maybe you aren’t Ezio after all.

Remembering

So, now that Desmond’s gone through that circle of ���who am I?’ and ‘I’m Ezio, right?’ and ‘I have to be Ezio, but I can’t be Ezio, so who am I?’ probably more than just a couple of times, what actually is it that brings him back every time?

The short answer is probably ‘reality’, even though that sounds dumb as fuck at first 😂

But in a wider sense that’s actually true. A person’s memory doesn’t only consist of seeing and hearing things, as much as someone who played the games might get the impression because the average person has yet to be able to smell/feel/taste things from computer games 😂.

And that’s the crux, the only thing that actually saves Desmond from loosing himself completely: Sensory impressions, which are a great trigger to remember things.

The clothes he’s wearing don’t feel like any of his ancestor’s clothes. Their make and design are completely different, the fabric was produced in a different way, the clothes themselves, like underwear are even a modern invention (modern men’s underwear is actually largely an invention of the 1930s). And of course nowadays most people wear a lot less layers than it was custom in most of human history.

Then there’s sound and smell (and visuals of course), a modern city is so much louder than even ancient Rome has been. More people (the world’s population is more than 20 times larger than during the 1400s (Ezio was born in the latter half of that century). And between 2011 and 2023 we actually gained another Billion of people on this world!), loud and smelly cars, food stalls, tared streets, large buildings and modern architecture. Cities in general.

And of course he has his companions who would jog his memories by being there.

And his companions are the ones who also trigger another sense of Desmond: touch. Or at least I hope they do <.< touch starvation is a bitch and even a hand on your shoulder or sitting closer together and almost touching and stuff like that do help a lot.

In the same vein we also have Desmond’s own bodily awareness by the way. Especially after months of mostly lying in the Animus he won’t be as strong or enduring as his ancestors and when I think about how Ezio’ running around Rome in his armor… well Desmond definitely has a long way to get anywhere near that strength 😂😂😂 So, his body doesn’t feel like either his ancestor’s bodies. And he also has different markings on his body than them (aside from the scar on his lip that he shares with Altair and Ezio) and, of course, he has his tattoo.

And I think that’s what is grounding him the most. While he sure as hell can fall into one of his ancestors’ personalities when he’s hiding somewhere in the woods, cars - and technology in general - and cities and people have the best chance at pulling him back into himself. Even small things like a tea one of his ancestors remembers that just doesn’t taste quite right. Because over the hundreds of years the plants used to make that tea changed by natural evolution or - more likely - by cultivation through humans.

Coping

I’m kinda curious what they would have done with Desmond if he’d survived in canon. But since they didn’t really let him survive (I’m expertly ignoring the Reader btw.) we will never know an answer to that, I guess <.<…

Though I think with a bit of therapy he’d actually be able to compartmentalize the memories of his ancestors quite well? I mean… I actually think I saw something similar in a fanfic, but since each of their lives was so uniquely different I think it would actually be pretty clear cut to shove each of them in a dedicated space - like a mind palace or something.

I mean, mind palaces work by using a place (real or imaginary) that you know very well and kinda… sort what ever you want to remember in those places. Other than Desmond who mostly has the farm (and I don’t think he’d want to use that place and revisit it every time he tries to remember something specific) each of the other three kinda has at least one dedicated space he knows like the back of his hand. For Ezio he could use Florence, Monteriggioni, even Rome (though maybe a place he isn’t going to travel to that often). For Altair Masyaf is the most likely choice in my opinion. And for Connor he has the homestead and his ship. Just places he hasn’t the same connection to as Desmond and which he can imagine well enough.

He would probably still need a shit ton of therapy for that whole thing anyway and for coping with his own childhood and how his dad is a fucking asshole, too <.<… But he would have a chance to cope, maybe even heal.

Anyway, thanks for everyone who read this far 😂😂😂 I didn’t expect to turn this whole thing into a 2k+ essay, but well, I kinda did o_O… I have no idea if I remembered everything I wanted to write, but this thing is what you get 😂 Hope you had fun! :D (And thanks for wanting to read this to everyone who voted 💕)

[missellaneousworks]

Pinky Promise [Part 1]

A SDJ OC Drabble

Ella recounts her thoughts on her new roommate.

[Part 1] - HERE! - [Part 2] - Coming soon

A/N: It's been too long since I completed one of my many drafts. This is a drabble this time to practice first person and get into Ella's head about the early days of her new best friend. What could go wrooooong?

Something is Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is a +18 ONLY series. MINORS DNI.

~

November 7, 20XX

Let the record show that it's been almost two weeks since my last entry and I am alive and well!

There haven't been any weird noises in the apartment at odd hours, no demonic possessions to speak of, no flying silverware or furniture, flickering lights, or messages written in blood. All of my electronics work okay --the only thing that doesn't work is the '84 Incident' tape I found at the thrift store.

So to recap from my last entry:

I decided to let Sunny Day Jack stay with me. I know, I know, not exactly the smartest sounding idea. BUT. I genuinely believe he is an actual ghost-clown-man...thing-person? God I hope I'm not crazy He seemed just as confused as I was when he landed in my living room. I might've been a bit startled when I first met him, but I think he needs help. Or at least a place to stay while figuring out how he got inside that tape. He hasn't done anything scary. Not that he could, he's like a big teddy bear!

A six-foot tall, blue mullet, primary-colored teddy bear from the 80's.

Yeah, wow, that's silly written down.

Getting back on track--

Once I determined he didn't appear to be an evil ghost-clown-man, I decided to help him uncover why he was in the tape to begin with. He assured me it wasn't necessary, but my gut tells me it's important. Maybe Jack has family somewhere who wants to know where he is? Or other people who'd like to know what happened to him?

But, unfortunately, any family Jack mentions circles back to a place called Coudy Town, which sounds like a fantasy land of some sort. I've tried researching the names and town locations he gave me, hoping to find SOMETHING but I got nada. Zip. Zero! Whatever child-educational-program-fantasy-world Jack hailed from, is either a fabrication or it's from so long ago that no digital copy exists. Which makes no sense-- Dr. What came out long before the internet and digital media, but I could plug an episode name into the search bar and find 5 different videos and dozens of links, as well as detailed synopses of the show. Maybe it's because Dr. What is so popular and was part of a large TV network, so it was better preserved (despite the fact it nearly flopped when it first aired).

When looking up the name of the town didn't work, I tried looking up some of the names of Jack's friends he mentioned. Cloudy Belle Sue, Rory Rainberry, and Knackadan Drizzle. I think he mentioned having a sister...? Something-Jane? Chitty-chitty-Jane? I can't remember. I have tried asking Jack about his home, but all of his answers are... vague. Not that I think he's lying or withholding information from me, but it hasn't been helpful. He can't give me an exact location of where he came from, and he says some of his memories are on the fuzzy side.

Back at square one, absolutely stumped.

This is a real head-scratcher... I wonder if I'm looking in the wrong place? Or maybe I'm asking the wrong questions? Shaun might have better ideas on where to look. I should give him a call sometime. It's been a while since he's checked in with me, but I know he's busy with wrapping up production. Just a couple more months and I get to have my big ol' cat man back! I missed watching movies with him. He's asked if I'd like to get our streaming channel up and running when he moves back, but if I'm honest I don't know if I have the heart to tell him that I don't I have it in me

I don't know if I'll have the time, with Jack in the picture now.

Jack as a person is... not what I'm used to. He's okay, very nice in fact! I still feel bad that I threw that coffee mug at him when he first appeared in my living room, though I'm happy to say despite bad first impressions we get along pretty well.

Most of the time.

He means well, been nothing but kind and caring since I first met him. I don't know how to explain what's bugging me, he has a knack for popping up in my peripheral when I least expect it, but it's not necessarily a bad thing. The other day I was reviewing my budget and realized I'd probably have to make some insta-noodle meals, which isn't great health-wise. I didn't even say anything and Jack was like, "You know, I worry you don't get enough veggies in your diet. Maybe you could buy some baby broccolis, chop them up, and place them in the noodle packs you like to get! Oh, and I bet it would taste great if you put an egg in it! What do you think? Soft boiled or sunny side up?"

And the day after that I lost my freakin' house key right before I went into work, and Jack said I should check my back pocket. Guess what? It was in my back pocket! How'd he know that?

Some way, somehow, Jack is just always... there.

I don't know how to feel about that.

Maybe it's because I've lived alone for a long time. Also, it might be the fact that sometimes I feel as though I'm being treated as a kid. I don't think he's doing it intentionally, it's not like he talks down to me. He's just really gentle, yet energetic at the same time. He sort of has that -- hot teacher vibes??? -- summer camp counselor I had a crush on thing going on -- nurturing and benevolent nature about him.

Suffice to say, it's been a learning curve to get used to living with someone again. I just hope he doesn't get into anything he's not supposed to. He tried to help me fold my laundry today -- which was super nice of him, of course, but, well, he backed off when he realized I was folding up my intimates.

He probably wants to be helpful since he can't exactly contribute in more conventional ways, like buying groceries or paying his portion of rent. Or maybe he's bored? He knows how to work the TV, but he's pretty clueless trying to activate the streaming apps.

It makes me wonder, what did Jack do in all of that time in the tape? Was it like sleeping? Did he just wake up here? He couldn't possibly have been awake that whole time. Right?

...I almost want to ask him, but something in the back of my mind is stopping me.

Well, until next time diary. I've got to get dinner ready.

P.S. - Try to remember to call Shaun and ask about any archives of lost media.

[reiline]

My Sole Survivor Daniella (Dani), I wanted to draw her long ago

Several random headcanons:

1)At the beginning of the main events she’s 25 y.o.

2) She got the scar on her face from the deathclaw cub. Even babies can tear skin to flesh with their claws, but Dani managed to dodge at the last moment, so the cut didn’t come out very deep

(she has a few other small scars and moles on her body, but I forgot to add them at the end)

3) Piper once gave Dani a handmade "lucky" cap, like a talisman as a gift for her friend. Once, at the time of the transaction with one of the unpleasant and rude merchants, Dani didn’t notice the fake cap mixed with the rest, and paid as it was. In general, the merchant caught her cheating, and the situation could have gotten out of control if not for the presence of Hancock at her side. As soon as he silently demonstrated his shotgun, the merchant immediately chickened out and accepted an apology and a real cap from Dani, who tries to avoid conflicts whenever possible

4) Dani had an older brother who lived in Washington with his family. Even if he managed to survive and get to the vault, he was hardly put into cryogenic sleep, so at best he died of natural causes, and Dani would never learn of his fate

5) Like many before the war, Dani married not for love, but because it was so accepted. She was quite lucky: her husband was a handsome, decent military man who sincerely loved her, supported her and, most importantly, didn’t put pressure on her or try to force her to love him. After the birth of her son, she even began to feel something more than a simple affection for him, but they weren’t destined to take their relationship to the next level when nuclear war broke out

6) Dani is very beautiful. Even after weeks and months of living in new realities, her ability to love and sympathize with others never faded, and the scars didn’t spoil her in any way and only added zest. There were downsides to this, and Dani repeatedly fought back against those unable to keep their household in their pants, but so far she’d been saved by natural luck and her favorite gun

7) The Institute is destroyed. Dani left synth!Shaun alive, but refused to be his guardian/mother/whatever. For several weeks the boy lived in the Railroad headquarters, but one day Desdemona informed Dani that Shaun had left, possibly outside of Boston. For a while, Dani worried about him and wished she’d tried to take him in or shelter him in one of the settlements, but soon she came to terms with it, and she would never see Shaun again

.

.

Music theme: 🎶 Massive Attack - Teardrop I don't have as many ideas for Fallout 4 as for Mass Effect, and I don't have my own OCs within the universe, but perhaps I will sometimes sketch for it too ;)

[hauntedparadisebandana]

Thinking about Desmond and the gang in a modern au😋

Desmond successfully secured a job at a local coffee shop in town, it has relatively nice pay, easy to do, and he needed a distraction between his classes. Yet besides the rush hour or lunch, he has nothing to do, really. Luckily today was the day the supervisor watched the work in the shop (he despises these days), so he has to run around acting like he's actually getting work done for three hours.

He swept the floor three times, mopped twice, and reorganized the already organized creamers and sugars. Every time he finished a task, the supervisor would nod to him with a smile and walk off to hover he other co-workers. Finally it was his break, he pulled out a sandwich and sat at a table in the back near the far window, while eating his very dry turkey and cheese (he didn't add mayo because he forgot to buy some more) he got a text.

Group of idiots

*Becca* 10:00

>what time are u guys done with classes today????

>let's get food!😋

*Lulu* 10:01

>well I don't get out of class until 11, and I really need to catch up on work Bec.

*Stickintheass* 10:03

>rebecca, unlike you, some people have work to do. I have to finish my paper tonight.

*Becca* 10:05

>booooo, u guys are no fun. Des?🙏🏽

>don't leave me hanging😢

Desmond let out a chuckle before replying

*Dessyboy* 10:07

>I wish, but I'm stuck at work till 12😔

*Becca* 10:08

>UGHHHH I can't believe u guys😩

>wait I got an idea

>what about a study date kinda thing?

*Stickintheass* 10:08

>Absolutely not. Every time we do a "study date," you always end up distracting me and I get no work done. Plus you don't even study.

*Becca* 10:09

>I swear I'll do work the time, pinky promiseeeeee.

*Stickintheass* 10:10

>😮‍💨

*Becca* 10:11

>So is that a yessss?????

*Stickintheass* 10:12

>fine. I'll go.

*Becca* 10:12

>YAYYY

>Lu we'll meet up with u at 11 and then we'll go to des's job to mess with him until he's off work.

*Lulu* 10:14

>👍👍👍

>I gtg, talk later

*Dessyboy* 10:15

>hey I didn't agree yet

*Shaun* 10:16

>you don't have too, you're going. If I have to suffer, you have to too. Plus, I don't think Rebecca will let you off the hook.

*Dessyboy* 10:16

>ok🥲

Sighing, he threw away his trash and got back to doing the same thing over and over again until his friends arrived. While fake sweeping for what felt like the 50th time, the bell above the door jingled, and in walked Shaun, Rebecca, and Lucy. Rebecca waved with much enthusiasm while Shaun rolled his eyes. Lucy chuckled and shook her head at the two, they always irritate eachother, despite living together and studying the same field.

They sit at a booth and talk amongst themselves quietly as Desmond walks over.

"Hey guys, how's your life besides mine?"

Rebecca chuckled "yo des, im great actually, why do you make it seem like you're in hell right now?"

"Because I am. I've been repeating the same tasks for 3 hours trying to make it seem like I'm actually doing something."

"Well dont worry, you'll be off soon. It's only 30 more minutes." Shaun states.

And like Shaun said, the 30 minutes seemed to fly by. He was soon hanging his apron in his locker, grabbing his bag, and leaving the employees' only room.

"Finally free from hell guys, so where are we going?" He adjusts him backpack straps.

"Ummmm we haven't actually established that yet. What about the little Ceasars a few blocks down?"

Shaun groaned "Rebecca we ate there last week."

"It won't hurt to eat there again. It's pizza of course. Oh and let's walk, the fall weather is nice at this time."

The group left the coffee shop and started the walk to the local little Cesars they eat at every other week. None of them actually want to eat there, but it's cheap, and they haven't done any grocery shopping yet. Upon walking in, the group gets hit with the smell of fresh pizza. Desmonds stomach growls as a reaction, all he had was that dry turkey sandwich way earlier in his shift, so he was practically starving.

Once more, they pick a booth big enough to fit them all. Ordering a large pepperoni, they chow down on it while "studying" (writing down things and forgetting about it).

"Sooooo how's classes going for you guys?" Lucy questions to break the silence of them stuffing pizza in their faces.

Desmond is quick to complain, "Ugh, don't even get me started on my professor, biggest asshole on the planet. On top of that, I have a final due soon."

"Sucks to be you, my friend. Me on the other, I completed my final yesterday so I am free from the pain and suffering of work and worries." Rebecca laughs

"Whateverrr."

Shaun glances down at his watch, sighing upon seeing the time. "I'll have to make my leave soon. After noon classes."

"Seriously? But we just got here!"

"Rebecca, it's been two hours. Plus, you weren't studying anyway, and we have the same class to attend idiot."

"Ah. Right," she rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.

"I'll leave with you guys," Lucy quips. "I to have afternoon classes."

Desmond sighs at this, giving all his friends a hug before they are off to class again, leaving him bored.

"Bye guys...."

"Desmond, stop making that face, we're literally all roommates. We'll see you later tonight." Rebecca pinches his cheek and runs after Shaun and Lucy, who are already in the car.

Group of idiots

*Dessyboy* 2:03

>it was fun being able to hang out again😿

*Stickintheass* 2:04

>God stop with the dramatics, we'll see you later.

*Dessyboy* 2:04

>but still, I'm bored now

*Lulu* 2:05

>des, there is plenty to do around here. And why are you texting us already, we just left.

*Dessyboy* 2:05

>😮‍💨

>fine

*Becca* 2:06

>all love dessy😚

*Dessyboy* 2:07

>love you guys too

>oh by the way, can someone please go to the store later and pick up some mayo?

>....

>guys???

>Lu? Becca? Shaun?

>guys please I'm tired of eating a dry turkey and cheese for lunch 😭

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Sleep walking

1660 words

Modern assassin's. Like always something strange is happening to Desmond. During AC3

Desmond woke up with a screaming headache, and a throbbing pain in his tailbone. Ears ringing and fully disoriented; it felt like he was coming out of the Animus for the first time. When his vision focused, the first thing he saw was Shaun's face almost nose to nose with his own.

“What the hell Shaun!” Desmond exclaimed, pushing himself away from the other man. They were both sitting on the floor and Rebecca was standing over them curiously.

“Looks like we finally have our Desmond back.” Shaun let out a tired and almost disappointed sigh. Nonchalant compared to Desmond's reaction. The casual response only made Desmond's confusion induced anger flare up.

“What are you talking about?” Desmond got up and dusted himself off. The pain in his lower back shooting up his spine like a dull fire.

“You were sleepwalking. Well, sort of? We've been calling it sleep bleeding.” Rebecca said proudly as she made her way back to her computer.

“So is anyone going to explain what that is?” Desmond rolled his eyes. These two can talk so much, but half the time he can't understand anything they're saying.

“While the name is crude, it is fairly self explanatory. Your ancestors have essentially been taking consciousness while you have been unconscious.” Shaun gets up and mutters something under his breath about Des being ungrateful.

“Yeah, but it's different from your normal bleeding. It's not like they're living through a memory, but like, their consciousness literally takes over your body.” Rebecca chirps excitedly. “That's why you have been so tired, even when you're out of the Animus. Since your ancestors have been using you to stretch their legs your body hasn't really had any rest.”

“When were you guys going to tell me about this?!” Desmond's jaw dropped. He's been complaining about not feeling rested for two weeks, and they knew why this whole time! He was almost fuming, and the exhaustion was not helping quell the building irritation.

“Well, we wanted to run some tests first. See how much modern stuff we tell them they can remember, or if every bleed wipes their memory clean. There is so much to learn from their collective history that we haven't seen in the Animus alone.” Shaun starts going on a tangent about lost history.

“What Shaun is trying to say is that we had a lot to learn, and telling you risked stopping the effects. Considering you'd want something to let you sleep.” Rebecca tried to soothe things over, but Desmond was still mad that they kept this from him.

“So I'm just a test subject again?” He crossed his arms and glared. “You guys, Abstergo, all you care about is data. You forget I'm a person, AND NEED SLEEP.”

Shaun narrowed his eyes at being scolded, but he did feel remorse. At least Rebecca looked guilty for keeping this from him.

“Sorry Desmond. I promise, no more secrets. Especially concerning your ancestors and bleeds.” Rebecca tried to make amends.

Desmond was too tired to stay angry. He sighed and sat on the edge of the Animus. Not the most comfortable perch, but it will do for now.

“No more secrets. So… what were they like?” A look of confusion passed both Rebecca and Shaun's faces. “My ancestors. I've seen their memories, but I've never met them… what are they like?”

It felt embarrassing to ask. Strange that Desmond, the one related to these great assassins, is the only one who hasn't had a face to face conversation with them. It made him feel… desynchronized, in a way.

After a few moments of silence and the three assassins staring at each other Shaun was the first to answer.

“It depends on the ancestor really…” He went to his desk and picked up a notebook, thumbing through it until he stopped on an early page. “I think-”

“Shaun loves talking to Ezio.” Rebecca jumps in to tease the historian. His ears turn a slight pink, but he remains as dignified as he can.

“He has such a way with words. It's as if I'm talking to a living manuscript!” Shaun gets defensive only because Rebecca is right. “As a historian, it is an honor to meet someone so eloquent from such an important time period.”

Rebecca stifles a laugh. “Remember that one day you woke up and complained you felt like you were hung over? Well. Apparently our boy Ezio has the nose of a bloodhound, even found one of Shawn's hidden bottles of wine. Drank the whole thing before Shaun even noticed! It was so hard for me not to tell you that you were actually hung over!” Desmond cracked a smile. Both at the thought of Ezio stealing Shaun's probably expensive vintage wine, and Rebecca's contagious energy.

Shaun starts to grumble that it was, in fact, vintage and very hard to get, meanwhile the technician continues to jeer at the flustered historian.

“Sounds like you both like Ezio. Is there anyone you don't like?” Desmond leaned back and started to relax while listening to the two talk about his ancestors. It was as endearing as it was weird. A type of jealousy whispering in the back of his mind.

“Connor” “Definitely Connor” Rebecca and Shaun agreed in unison.

“Really? Why?” Desmond asks, eyes widening a little in surprise. It's strange that the two not only agreed with each other but agreed so adamantly, and as far as Desmond knew Rathonhagé:ton was kind, and not as brash as Ezio could be or as trigger-happy as Altaïr.

“He just stares. It's kinda weird.” Rebecca says in a hushed voice, like she doesn't want Connor to hear her through time.

“I must agree that as a conversationalist, he leaves much to be desired.” Shawn flips to another page and shows that it has almost nothing on it. “It's not that he's particularly rude or dangerous, but he is kind of boring, and a waste of a phenomenon.” Rebecca nods her head as Shaun explains. Desmond is in disbelief for a moment that they think Rathonhagé:ton is boring, but he supposed they haven't been in his head like he has.

“Well, what about Altaïr?” Shaun and Rebecca never got to see any of Altaïrs memories because that was back at Abstergo, so he's most curious to hear their opinion on the grandmaster.

“Depends. There's two versions of him that we've seen. One is wise and composed-”

“-And the other is a total ass!” Rebecca interrupts Shaun.

“Not the words I would have used, but yes, he can be an ass.” Shawn absentmindedly touches his shirt collar.

Desmond chuckled to himself a bit. Older and younger Altaïr have a drastic personality difference, one that Desmond has literally lived through.

“History not matching the image in your head?” Desmond's sarcasm now in full swing. Shaun didn't seem to notice but Rebecca smirked. She was happy, sarcasm meant he's calmed down, at least a bit.

“Unfortunately that is often the case with reality.” There's an odd tremor in Shaun's voice.

“So what happened between them?” Desmond asked Rebecca, knowing she would spill whatever Shaun was trying to hide.

Her face lit up like she's been waiting her whole life for someone to ask. “Altaïr tried to stab him the first time you sleep bled young Altaïr! Grabbed him by the neck and slammed his open palm into his chest, right above the heart!”

“I had the air pushed out of my lungs, and if he had a hidden blade there's no doubt I would be just another victim of history.” Shaun jumped in but Rebecca continued as if he hadn't.

“I had to jump to the rescue, and convince him we were on the same team. Not bad for being just a teckie!” She elbowed Shaun in the arm, and he reflexively rubbed the area.

“Yes, who knows what would have happened if Altaïr ran away with Desmond's body. We had to be more vigilant after that incident.” Shaun's hand ghosted over his collar again as he stared into the floor before bringing himself back to reality. Desmond almost chuckled thinking how often he has to check his own reality. “But nevermind all that, any more questions?”

Shaun was desperate to change the subject, and Desmond complied.

“Yeah, why was I on the floor when I woke up?” Desmond shifted, feeling the dull ache in his lower back flare up with the movement.

“We can ask Ezio and Connor to stay on your bed, but Altaïr doesn't like to listen.” Rebecca spoke as Shaun closed his notebook and put it back in its place. “You were standing when the bleeding effect stopped. Shaun tried to catch you.”

“Ah, so that's why I busted my ass. You gotta work on your reflexes ‘assassin’.” Desmond joked, feeling better about the banter.

It's been too long since any of them had had a normal conversation. He supposed the pseudo split personality he was developing wasn't normal, but it was mundane for their standards. At least no one was fighting for their lives…much.

“I may be an assassin but my place is with my nose in a book, not out in the field.”

“No, that honor is mine.” Desmond said with an eye roll, his bitterness of the situation peeking through.

Rebecca handed Desmond some painkillers. He didn't hear her come up to him but he still took the pills graciously. She promised to find something to help Desmond get some actual rest, or at the very least try.

It was nice; talking like this. While it's not unusual for Shaun to be frustrated or Rebecca to be snarky, this was different. This was… this was a casual feeling Desmond hasn't felt in a long time. A sense of normalcy that was lost to all of them for so long.

Desmond's thoughts drifted as Shaun and Rebecca continued to chat about different interactions. Just how long would this strange comfort last?

[nerdygoth77]

Did Lily ever hookup with any of the other companions and what factions did she work with before arriving to Nuka World?

Was she the typical civilian (minuteman type) and got corrupted by the wasteland/enticed by the raiders of Nuka World or was she always a little Neutral Evil?

Sorry if this is a bit of a long ask I'm just curious 😂

Never apologize for a long ask!! I love in depth questions like this!! I really loved this ask and was so excited I had to answer this the moment I saw it!! This answer is super long btw! I couldn't JUST answer these questions, I had to give you a full history of my OC.

So I have been thinking of Lilly's story for a long time, along with her character development. She is originally based on my evil Overboss playthrough of Fallout 4 where I completely ignore the main story LOL. I get to Nuka World as soon as possible by leveling up, mostly by doing Good Neighbor and Cabot family/Edward Deegan missions.

So Lilly's story isn't quite set in stone! But my main idea so far is that she is pre-war. Lilly does come from Vault 111 but she isn't the mother of Shaun and isn't the Sole Survivor. That's her brothers problem, who gets out of the vault a few days before she does. He goes one way, using his military training and desire for revenge to survive, becoming the leader of the minutemen(or he joins the Brotherhood. Maybe both?? idk yet) Meanwhile Lilly escapes Vault 111 and goes a completely different direction.

The vault is picked clean, and the body's of her brother and nephew are missing, while her sister in laws corpse has a bullet in her skull. Lilly finds no sign of her brother, and doesn't search too hard either. She leaves the vault, avoiding the neighborhood of Sanctuary and the possible people that lived there, their campfires burning brightly in the night only deterring her away.

Lilly's pre-war life wasn't military like her brothers. She was a "no good hippie" who was between jobs and staying with her brother and his wife until she "got back on her feet," Her brother took her in. In return she would help her PTSD stricken brother and his depressed wife take care of their brand new infant son.

Lilly was seen as no good to most in the pre irradiated world. She had been a part of the large underground punk scene in Boston, becoming a disgrace to her family and a nuisance towards the police. Her life had always been chaos, never knowing quite what she wanted to do as she jumped from job to job trying to keep money in her pocket that was instantly spent on drugs and lipstick.

Lilly doesn't even spare a second glance at the vault or neighborhood as she heads into the wasteland. She is more than prepared to leave her old life behind in the ashes of the old world, so she immediately finds a change of clothes, some chems, and heads towards Boston. She doesn't know why Boston, maybe just morbid curiosity of what the city had turned into. Maybe in search for drugs and answers to why she was still living. Her mindset is that of a depressed addict. Nothing on her mind but that next hit that would bring her that sweet rush of endorphins.

She enters the world with little to no knowledge. She can fight decently with her fists and switchblade, pick locks, run her mouth and hardly shoot a gun. She has a rough time getting to Boston, the weirdly smart German Shepherd she finds at a gas station, and lovingly names Dogmeat, helps her survive her first few weeks in the wasteland.

Soon she finds herself in Boston, and like all drifters, she quickly finds herself in Goodneighbor. She immediately sees the potential in the city and in its mob boss ghoul mayor. Lilly and Hancock quickly become romantically involved. (She is def fucking Maccready in secret too. But RJ is nothing more than some fun to her. She also has a fling with Edward Deegan who she also meets in Goodneighbor when he comes offering a job.)

In my au Hancock is a bit darker and mob boss like, Lilly corrupting him slightly. She helps clean up the city, both metaphorically and physically. She wipes the triggermen out, and takes down Marowski. Long story short they take over his chem empire and become the main chem bosses and suppliers of the commonwealth. They build Goodneigbor into an empire. Her charisma and luck are incredibly high, making it all the easier for her.

John teaches Lilly about the Commonwealth, about proper fighting and weapons. She gains as much knowledge as she can about the new world, settling into the line of leadership and manipulation well. But John wants something real and long term. He loves her, but Lilly doesn't love him in return. He has big ideas for the future, from helping synths to building supply lines to marrying her. Lilly doesn't share the same feelings or ambitions, so she leaves.

She takes her knowledge and weapons of the new world and leaves Goodneighbor without warning and without a trace. She disappears yet again into the wasteland until the best thing to ever happen to her since finding Dogmeat happens. She finds Nuka World and meets Porter Gage. Or maybe he finds her instead?? I don't quite have how they meet picked out yet but I have some ideas!

So yes, Lilly has always been a bit evil! She had a few loose screws in the beginning and the Cryo pod only made it worse. She is corrupted before the bombs, but the wasteland corrupts her further and further. By the time she reaches Nuka World she is already a pretty bad person who is scarred inside and out. Meeting and joining the raiders only corrupt her further. Gage actually helps her get clean and off of chems, but she does get a little crazier. But she couldn't be happier. Porter Gage and Nuka World become her lifeline.

Gage does change her for the better. Lilly finally able to commit to things in her life for once, like her romantic relationship with Gage and job as Overboss.

Fun fact: I actually named Lilly after my evil five pound toy poodle. Lilly is a grumpy old bitch of a dog. She is my whole entire world but she has some screws loose for sure.

So the short answer: Yes! She does hook up with other companions, but only John Hancock and RJ maccready. She also sleeps with Edward Deegan, having a short fling with him. All of these relationships are nothing compared to what she has with Porter Gage, their bond being actual love. Lilly is factionless, choosing to go her own way entirely. She becomes a mob boss before completely ditching that life and disappearing on the irradiated wind before finding Nuka World. Starting over with yet another new life. Lilly is a bit evil from the beginning, but the wasteland does corrupt her further.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 13

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 8/07/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: "Please be patient with him.” 

In the weeks that followed, things were more chaste between Dieter and I, however, we were spending significantly more time together. We had even started spending time with his sister and her family on the weekends. She and I were becoming close. Even exchanging numbers and chatting on occasion. 

Ever since Lauren had mentioned the wine and paint night, Dieter kept talking about doing it. He thought his sister might enjoy it and that it would be a fun activity for the kids (minus the wine for them of course). We decided to have it during one of our Friday night gatherings at my place since I had a lot of supplies on hand. What I didn’t have, Lauren provided. 

Dieter and I got started setting everything up in the back yard to avoid any major messes. Rather than cooking, we planned to order pizza, just to make our lives easier. Lauren came early to help set up since she was bringing additional supplies. To my surprise, Alex showed up early too. I had a feeling that was Dieter’s doing, but he didn’t mention it. Alex was quick to help Lauren with the extra folding tables and the tabletop easels that she brought from her shop classroom. She had also brought some smocks for the kids. Dieter and I hung back, getting things set up for the food so Lauren and Alex could have a few minutes to themselves. 

As far as we knew, neither one had pulled the trigger and asked for the other's number yet. However, Alex was definitely inquiring about her when the opportunity presented itself. Dieter said that Alex tried to be casual about it and would only ask questions when the topic came up. He would never directly ask about her. Lauren took the same approach with Dieter, never directly asking him anything about his brother. However, she had made it very clear to me that she was interested but didn’t want to make things weird with Dieter in case it didn’t work out. She valued the friendship they had built and didn’t want to mess it up.

Shaun dropped Gabby and the kids off soon after we had everything ready to go. Shaun, unfortunately, couldn’t stay due to a prior commitment, so he was missing out on the festivities. We got started as soon as we helped the kids pick out their paint colors. Each of them fought over who was going to sit by Uncle Dieter and Uncle Alex. The guys ended up pushing two tables together so that they could sit in the middle of the three kids. Gabby and I got one to ourselves, where Lauren later joined us. Lauren did take a few minutes to show us some techniques using different types of brushes and painting knives. 

Dieter and Alex were both helping the kids with their “masterpieces”. Sara insisted that Dieter paint a unicorn to match hers, and he obliged by painting a rather realistic looking one. Samuel and Luke begged Alex to paint one of their favorite cartoon characters. He agreed and they tried to do it exactly as he did on their own canvases, though they were not quite as successful. Alex ended up having to make two of the same things to give to each of them. 

The ladies were already a few glasses of wine in when Gabby momentarily got up to run to the bathroom. Lauren took the opportunity to lean over to me to say that she was pretty sure her ovaries just exploded as she watched Dieter and Alex with the kids. Dieter had smeared paint on Sara’s nose and Alex was leaning over in concentration explaining how he was doing something to Luke and Samuel. I was not expecting that sort of comment from her. It took me a moment to realize what she had said before I burst out laughing, which drew some interesting looks from the neighboring table. I apologized for my outburst. Not that I didn’t agree with her assessment.

When Gabby came back, Lauren decided she was going to join the kids table and show them how to make some fun paintings with their hands because they seemed to be finishing up what they had been working on. Though, I’m pretty sure she was just using it as an excuse to be near Alex. That left Gabby and I alone to chat. 

Dieter briefly left his station to get everyone something to drink, stopping to ask us if we needed anything as he went. As he did so, he ran his hand down the back of my hair, leaning down to give a brief smile as he spoke. He looked like he was having a good time. He was genuinely happy, showing no signs of the sadness that often plagued him. His boyish charm was on full display as his eyes crinkled from his smile. When he came back with an arm full of cold bottles of water from the cooler, he took one and stuck it to the side of my neck, causing me to jump from the contact, which incited a burst of laughter from him and Gabby. I gave him a dirty look as I took the water from him. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head and apologized, but muttered, “Worth it!” as he walked off. He was looking back in my direction with a sly grin on his face as he went. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at his antics.       

“You know,” Gabby started, but paused briefly as she watched her brother. She seemed to weigh her words before continuing. 

“I’ve noticed a big change in him since he’s been on his break. He seems different…with you.” 

“What do you mean?” I could feel the confused look forming on my face. 

She shrugged, “He seems happier. I mean, I know he has his bad days, but they seem to be happening less.” 

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew what she was insinuating. 

“Gabby, we aren’t together like that. We’re just friends...” 

She held up her hand to silence me while she gave a doubtful look. “I’m still hopeful he’ll finally open up and let someone in. I really do hope that someone is you. You fit into this family so well. I feel like it’s meant to be.” 

Her eyes turned glassy as she looked down at the drink in her hand. I could feel a lump forming in the back of my throat. I hoped it would be me too, but I was afraid to admit that, even to myself. I looked at her with my brows drawn down together. Fighting the emotion that was trying to spill out. She looked back up at me, continuing to speak. 

“I don’t know the details of what happened to you in the past, but I can see how you hurt sometimes, a lot like he does. It’s not obvious to everyone else, but I see how you two silently communicate with each other. You both know when the other needs…” she briefly waved her hands around as she struggled for the words. 

“I don’t know what it is, reassurance maybe? It’s interesting to see that dynamic and how it’s changing him. He isn’t as closed off as he used to be. He’s opened up to me some, but I know there’s things that he hasn’t told anyone about his trauma, that he needs to say. I just hope you won’t give up on him before he makes it to that point. Please be patient with him.”   

I always knew there was some type of trauma that troubled him, but hearing it confirmed out loud was hard. I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. I turned in my seat so that my back was to everyone else. All I could do was shake my head in agreement. I didn’t trust myself with words at that moment. Gabby leaned in close, reaching over to squeeze my arm that was propped on the table. I took a steadying breath and wiped my face. 

She smiled, “Clearly, I don’t need to drink. It makes my mouth a little too loose.”

We both chuckled at her statement. Sara appeared beside me with her unicorn painting that Dieter had made for her. She wanted to show it off. I looked it over. There is no way this was his first-time painting. There was too much detail. Gabby must have noticed me studying the painting.

“You know, Dieter used to paint. He was really good at it too, but he stopped when his acting career started to take off.”

Why did I always feel like she was reading my mind? She was just as perceptive as her brother.

“Really? He hadn’t mentioned that.” I looked over at him. He was laughing out loud about something Lauren had said to them.

I had wondered why he was so eager to have the paint night. Maybe he missed it? Maybe he would pick it up again after this? He seemed to be enjoying it. Or maybe he was just enjoying spending time with his family. This evening was certainly giving me a lot to think about. 

A commotion drew me out of my thoughts. Dieter, Alex, and the boys were now chasing each other around the yard with paint on their hands, smearing it on each other’s faces and arms when the opportunity presented itself. Lauren was quick to get away from the fray and join us girls. We sat laughing at their antics. Once they had finally worn themselves out, I had to get out the water hose and spray all of them off the best I could. There was no other option. Luckily, Gabby had brought extra clothes for the kids. Dieter had to lend his brother some of his clothes from his gym bag, which I silently hoped were clean. 

As everyone was getting settled, I put in the pizza order. It didn’t take long for it to arrive, and everyone immediately dug in. The kids started getting tired soon after they ate. We all sat around talking for another hour or so, giving the wine a chance to get out of our systems. Once Gabby announced Shaun was on his way to pick them up, Dieter and Alex helped the kids pack up and walked them out to the car when Shaun arrived. Alex and Lauren hung around to help us clean up and he also helped her load the tables back into her vehicle. They both left soon after that. 

At this point, it was around ten thirty. Dieter and I both came inside and collapsed onto the sectional, exhausted from the day's events. He started telling me about some of the funny things the kids had said while they were painting. The boyish grin had returned to his face, and he had a glimmer in his eye as he talked through it. Both of us laughed during certain parts. When he finished, I spoke up. 

“Can I ask you something? Without you getting upset or offended?” 

“Of course,” he looked taken aback by my question. 

“And you don't have to answer me, just so we’re clear.”

“Ok, you’re making me nervous. Out with it already,” he said as he made a waving motion with his hand. 

I chuckled before I continued, “Did you not ever want to have kids? I only ask because you said you had a vasectomy. It surprises me, especially after seeing you with Gabby’s kids.”     

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about his response. His face tensed. 

“That’s a complicated answer.” He took a deep breath before continuing. 

“I would love to have kids, I mean the procedure is reversible, so it’s still a possibility. I just…never felt like I was in the right place for that. I’m too afraid of everything that could possibly come with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m too afraid of loss. So, I avoid it. That’s why I haven’t really done the whole relationship thing. At one point in my life, I was hopeful that someone would come along that I’d be willing to fix myself for, but I’ve realized I need to do it for myself before I can take that next step, or else it’s never gonna work out. I’m just afraid it’ll be too late by the time I finally get there.” 

He paused for a moment with a pensive look on his face as he stared off into the distance at nothing. Again, I felt like he had an underlying meaning to his words. 

“What about you, did you ever want kids?”

I sighed. I brought the topic up, so I might as well be honest and open. 

“Initially, yes. When I first got married, we tried. It just never happened. We never went to the doctor or anything, so I’m not sure what the issue was. Though, looking back now, I’m happy it didn’t happen or else I’d be tied to that asshole for life. At this point, I’ve accepted the fact that it’ll probably never happen. I’m not sure that it can or ever could.”  

He reached over to grab my hand that was at my side, giving it a small squeeze. We sat in silence for a few minutes, seemingly mourning the lives that we could have had if only things had gone differently. I briefly wondered how things would have turned out if we had known each other back before things went so wrong. Maybe we wouldn’t have wasted so much of our lives on meaningless pursuits. I realized I was still wasting it, insisting we stick to the “just friends” agreement. I know he keeps saying that’s where he’s at too, but some days, I feel like he wants more. Especially after hearing the comments from Gabby earlier in the day. 

Dieter broke me out of my thoughts when he released my hand, indicating that it was getting late and he better head home because we had plans for the following day. We were finally going to go look at furniture for his house and look at some paint colors. He had been talking about it for weeks. He was insistent that he would like anything I came up with, but I wanted a better idea of his likes and dislikes. 

I walked him to the door. Rather than the loose hug and chaste kiss on the cheek that he usually gave me, he pulled me in for a tight hug, completely engulfing me with his body. We held each other for a moment before he kissed me on the top of the head and told me good night. He released me reluctantly and kept his head down. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he opened the door and walked out to his car.

I tried not to think too hard about his change in mood as I got ready for bed. We had left on a heavy topic that had most likely started to weigh on his mind. It had definitely weighed on mine as I laid in bed, trying to sleep.  

I woke up the next morning to a text from Dieter asking me what time I wanted to leave, noting that there was no rush, of course. He sent it at 6 AM. I looked at the time and it was almost nine. He had been such an early riser here lately. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of it. When I closed my messenger app, I noticed I had an alert on my security camera app. I opened it to check, figuring it was an opossum or something. To my surprise, it was a clip of Dieter entering through the basement door a little over an hour ago. He must have come over to workout, which was odd. He didn’t usually do that on the weekend. 

I rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen to make us some coffee. Once it was ready, I filled up two travel mugs. I made sure to make his cup the way he liked it, then headed downstairs. As I walked into the room, he was walking out of the bathroom, buttoning up his jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower he had just taken, and he hadn’t yet put a shirt on. I paused briefly, taking in the sight before me. My eyes roaming up and down his body. He gave me a lopsided grin and raised an eyebrow.

“See something you like, cariño?”

His morning voice was husky and low. His words went straight to my core. I could feel my face getting hot.  

“I’m just surprised to find you here this early on a Saturday to work out, is all.” 

He narrowed his eyes at me before he continued, I didn’t think he was buying my response.  “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep and was feeling a little keyed up. I thought it might be good to get rid of the excess energy. I was coming to pick you up anyway. So why not?” 

“Maybe I should have made you decaf then,” I said as I handed him his coffee. He gave me a look of disgust, shaking his head from side to side as he took a sip.

“Well, I’m gonna go shower. I’ll be ready in like forty-five minutes.”

He nodded and said he would be up in a minute to watch some tv or something.  

The entire time I was in the shower, I kept thinking about Dieter with his wet hair and shirtless torso and his hands as they worked to button his pants. He looked fucking amazing, and it was dredging up memories from New York. Memories of being in the shower with him, what his hands felt like on my body. I could feel my reservations about a relationship with him slowly slipping away. I needed to get it together. 

After I showered, I rubbed some products through my hair, opting to let it air dry. I went light on the makeup for a more natural look. I changed into a floral print wrap skirt, a white tank, and threw a jean jacket on. I rolled up the sleeves of the jacket. I grabbed my white sneakers and sunglasses out of the closet, then walked out toward the living room. As I went, I realized I didn’t even give my outfit a second thought. I just grabbed something and went with it. I was really starting to embrace the more casual looks and realized that I felt more like myself in them. I felt oddly proud of myself for the progress.

I walked into the living room to find Dieter dozing on the sectional. He had his right arm folded behind his head, while the left rested across his stomach. A sliver of his abdomen was peeking out from under his tan short-sleeve Henley. A small area of his chest was showing where he left his shirt unbuttoned. He looked so relaxed and comfortable, I hated to wake him. Especially since he said he couldn’t sleep last night. 

I walked over and stood next to him, reaching down to grab the remote that was lying on the couch, against his hip, and turned off the tv. The movement seemed to stir him. He moved his right arm down over his face and groaned. He reached out with his left hand, sliding it around to the back of my thigh, just above the knee and gave it a squeeze. Then he just left it there. I looked down at his hand, slightly confused and also enjoying the heat of his touch a little too much. I reached down and removed it from my leg, giving it a tug to wake him up. He groaned again before he finally uncovered his face and sat up sleepily. He looked up, giving me a lopsided smile as he rubbed the bare skin of his stomach underneath his shirt. 

“Are you ready to go, or would you rather nap some more?” I gave him a playful smile. 

“Ugh, whose idea was this anyway. It’s terrible,” he mumbled as he got off the couch. 

“Pretty sure it was yours,” I said through a chuckle. 

He came over and wrapped his arms around my shoulders for a tight embrace. He put his face to my hair and inhaled deeply. I was surprised by his actions but hugged him back. 

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry,” he said into my hair.

He didn’t even let me answer before he released me and walked off to go in search of his phone, wallet, and keys. I watched him for a moment, he was acting a little off.

I grabbed my purse and phone and followed behind him as we walked downstairs to go out the basement door next to where his car was parked.   

As we got in the car, he reached for his sunglasses. I felt like he was avoiding my eyes. I reached out and lightly touched his arm, leaning my head forward to look directly at him.

“Are you ok?”

He finally looked up at me, seeming startled by my question. His eyes looked sad and tired. 

“Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping well. I guess it’s making me a little moody.” 

He gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, then he put his sunglasses on. By this point, it was getting close to lunch time. He mentioned a cafe that he liked going to on occasion and asked if I had been there. I hadn’t but was open to trying it. He put the car in reverse and started to head that way. 

It was about a thirty-minute drive, and it took several more minutes to find a parking spot. As we were walking in, he looked me up and down for the first time since waking up. He put his hand on the middle of my back, running it up the center underneath my hair to rest on the back of my neck, where he started rubbing with his thumb. I immediately got goosebumps all over my body from the contact. He leaned in closely, laying the side of his face on my head to tell me that I look nice today. I gave him a half smile as I glanced up at him. 

I thought back to what Gabby had said, about giving each other reassurance. Is that what we were doing? He dropped his hand from my neck, and I reached over to link my arm with his. He visibly relaxed as he smiled over at me. He must have been having one of his bad days I thought to myself. I felt like he was seeking comfort, but I didn’t know why. As we reached the front of the cafe, I held back while he went to reserve a table for us. It was a little crowded around the hostess stand and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it. I aimlessly paced around as I waited. When I turned toward the direction we had just come from, I was met with a familiar face I had hoped I would never see again.

Next Chapter

A/N: Are you all ready to see snarky protective Dieter? Cause it's coming...

Tag List: @rhoorl, @bitchwitch1981, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @runningmom94, @for-a-longlongtime, @hisandsnakes

[angelsandarsenic]

An ever after high oc?? In this economy??

Guys im having so much trouble with outfits. I have a ton I could show but idk if they're good/eah enough

It is so hard to find Scottish female voices I was about to bite the bullet and make it Kelly macdonald  anywayyyyy there's a short version of their story under the cut i'm not gonna write out a whole long thing so pardon the straightforwardness

Voice claims: Lachlan—Jamie Fraser, outlander  Saoirse—Laoghaire McKenzie—outlander

This story goes…a little differently. 

After the events of Brave, Clan Dunbroch continued to prosper, now in closer link than ever with the other clans. Princess Merida ascended to the throne, but she never did take a lover or have children. Hamish, Hubert and Harris, all grown up, went on to find their own partners and lead their own lives. Their eldest children—Shaun of Macguffin, Ailsa and Alec Macintosh, and Lachlan of Dingwall—are now all eligible for the Dunbroch throne

Now let’s turn back time a little bit.

The ancient kingdom is crumbling. The first prince has gone on a rampage and Isla has just watched her husband turn into a massive bear. 

She flees. 

It takes her two days to find the witch’s cottage. By then the spell had been set in stone, and the witch can tell the woman is with child. She’s not heartless, she wants to help, but all magic comes with a price. So she does the only other thing she knows how and shepherds them through the magic circle to the realm of the faeries, where no one will ever find them. 

~~~

Lachlan is certain he can win the competition for the throne. He wants it. His grandfather definitely wants it. He’s strong, skilled and fast and not afraid to knock his cousins out of the way, however close they may have been as children. Besides, he’s the Queen’s favorite—how could he lose?

The four clans have all gathered for three weeks of festivities and friendly competition before the actual games. After one too many ruthless victories, Lachlan gets in a fight with his cousins. After being scolded by his father for his behavior as well, the young prince has had enough and takes off into the woods to cool down. 

He brings back a girl.

An odd girl, to be sure; her thick braids make two strange piles on her head and she won’t ever tell him where she’s from, but there are no kingdoms or settlements around here, so a girl lost in the forest needs help! She introduces herself as Saoirse before the Queen and quickly gets welcomed to stay. 

Lachlan likes her at first. She’s fiery and mischievous and actually manages to beat him in combat. It’s just a sparring match, he tells himself, it doesn’t actually matter. Except it does matter. Because Saoirse is getting way too close to the Queen and she’s too good at everything for her- her existence to be natural. Lachlan's cousins loved her, meanwhile Lachlan himself was only growing more irritable and distant. Was she replacing him? What was more, there were rumors that the Queen wanted to let Saoirse, an outsider, compete for the throne! Too bad no one believed Lachlan when he tried to tell them. They all think he’s simply jealous. 

And then one night there’s a bear in the castle.

Understandably, Lachlan panics and draws his sword. He’s heard the stories. What happened to his father, his brothers and the late Queen Elinor. Heard about the demon bear Mor’du. If he doesn’t slay the beast then-

But just before Lachlan calls for help, the bear disappears and a wide eyed Saoirse is standing in its place. Her hair fell loose down her shoulders, revealing furry ears atop her head. 

“W-wait! It’s not- Lachlan listen-“

“Monster!”

“No!”

He had won. He had proof, right there under her hair! If he brought her before the Queen and lords, they’d probably kill her, but so what?

In a desperate flight for life, Saoirse ran through the palace as a bear to escape. The clans awoke with much clamor and the hunt was on, but the beast had disappeared into the night. 

The very next morning, the clans set out again, splitting into groups to canvas the forest more thoroughly. Lachlan set off on his own--he knew just where to go. 

He didn’t find the bear at the stone circle like before. He did find a wisp. A will-o-the wisp! Here to lead him to his fate, undoubtedly. 

Lachlan followed the little spirits eagerly, ignoring the way the trees grew thick and dark, and stone jutted further from the ground. At first, he thought the stone archway was a cave. Inside lay the bear, curled up by a pile of rubble, asleep.

“Wake up.” Lachlan kicked it. He had more honor than to kill a sleeping enemy. 

She transformed back as she startled awake. That was fine, a human was easier to drag back anyway. She was clutching a bow, a sword lay on the stone steps behind her. 

“Did you steal these from the castle?!”

“No, I made them you brute!”

Lachlan scoffed. “You made them?” 

“Yes. Did you think your weapons just popped out of thin air, your highness?”

“I- w- no. But you’re a beast, what the devil do you need weapons for?”

“I'm a human,” she hissed. It was then that Lachlan noticed. Stairs?? And were those carvings? 

“Is this the ancient kingdom? Do you live here?”

“No. I just…come here sometimes.”

“Why?”

The look on her face made him think she might snap at him, but she kept herself in check. Instead, she said, “becoming the kingdom hero won’t make you loved, you know.”

“What? I’m loved, what are you talking about?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you don’t act like it. Are we sure I’m the monster here?”

“Yes!”

The girl huffed. “Well, I hope you figure yourself out soon, before it’s too late. You’re really lucky you know. You have so many people who care about you. Four whole clans at your fingertips.” Her own fingers traced a withered carving on cracked stone. She muttered something about “mum told me not to come back here” and stood. Lachlan readied his weapon again, not realizing he had ever lowered it. She didn’t attack him. She simply hefted another massive rock over to her spot from the other side of the cave and laid back down. “Do it then. Go on, I’m ready.”

…

“What?” 

Saoirse actually managed to look annoyed. “You’re planning to kill me right? For ‘attacking your castle’?” Her voice ridiculed him, yet she seemed completely serious. “Go on then.”

Lachlan actually dropped his weapon then. “What is wrong with you?” What was so important about the stone then that she wanted it close? “Don’t you- I mean okay, I understand being suicidal, but don’t you have someone who would miss you?”

“Nope.”

Lachlan’s heart fell. He dropped down beside her. Surely she couldn’t be serious. “Where do you live?”

A mournful frown pushed her bottom lip out like she was about to cry. “Right here. I was supposed to live here. Ages ago. But it- it got destroyed.” As if an afterthought, she added, “I was never going to hurt you, you know.”

Lachlan finally took a look at the carvings she had rolled over to lean against. The four brothers, he could recognize easily enough. He had heard the story more than enough times for a lifetime from his father and aunt. There were people with them. The king, he assumed, was one, standing in the middle with the crown. The others were three women—the fourth brother didn’t have one, but he held a little boy in front of him. All of the brothers had a family, Lachlan realized. Even the eldest, though he didn’t seem to have a child yet. 

“We never learned about them,” the prince murmured.

“No, you wouldn’t have. They all died.”

“But- but this is all ancient.” She must be crazy. “You can’t live here.”

“Time moves a lot slower in the realm of the faeries.”

Now Lachlan looked at Saoirse like she was in fact crazy. Then it clicked. “The circle…”

Well, that's...kind of sad... “You’re another victim of the witch,” he surmised. He hadn’t thought they could turn into humans again but maybe she had gotten a different spell?

Saoirse snorted. “No, the witch is married to my mum now. She’s lovely, really. I’m-“

“A victim of Mor’du then? Did he kill your family?” 

Saoirse cut him off with a roll of her eyes. “Mor’du was my family ya gommy nyaff.”

…

“Oh.”

~~~

All in all, they returned to the castle. Lachlan apologized and made up with his family. Saoirse, with some trials of trust, was welcomed back as well. Eventually, Lachlan does take the throne. Except there were never any competitive games. Or rather, the lead up was the competition, in a sense. The Queen wanted to test the heirs' genuine traits and familial bonds. With the ability to admit he was wrong and put family above himself, Lachlan passed with flying colors.

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have eight fics that deal with grieving. Check them out under the cut, and comment and kudos if you like them!

Falling Stars by Crewe (3897,Teen) Warnings: A thoughtful, heartfelt look at the way grief can fall on you like a ton of bricks and also wait around the corner to whack you in the teeth with a rock when you're not prepared - but it ends in warmth and broken things on the path to mending. Pairings: Scanlan Shorthalt & Vax'ildanScanlan, Shorthalt & Vex'ahlia

Scanlan has a plan to save Vax. He doesn't. Now he has to say good-bye.

Reccer says: I liked it

A Conspiracy of Ravens by Senor_Sparklefingers (77384,Teen) Warnings: Major Character Death Pairings: Keyleth/Vax'ildan, Shaun Gilmore & Keyleth, background Percy/Vex, background Derrig/Nell

Keyleth grives for Vax and tries to put her life back together, while hiding her unexpected pregnancy from the rest of Vox Machina. Written before the Vilya reveal, so also touches upon the impact of her death on her loved ones, as well as how Vax's death effects Gilmore and his relationship with Kiki.

Reccer says: I liked it

miss you indefinite by gayvincreel (1618,Teen) Warnings: past character death Pairings: Essek Thelyss & Keyleth, mentions of vaxleth and shadowgast

Keyleth meets Essek at Kima's funeral, and they talk about all their loved ones who have passed away.

Reccer says: cross-campaign fics are always fun. i really like the dialogue in this one and how it really puts into perspective the pain that can come from being longer-lived than your friends

what the promised land would promise me by grayintogreen (3169,Teen) Warnings: Pairings: Lucien & The Tombtakers

The Intuit Charge Massacre from the other side.

Reccer says: Harsh and fitting view of how Lucien and Cree dealt with the Mighty Nein's ambush in the ruins of Aeor.

Eyes of the Grave by ThatHCWriter (1427,Teen) Warnings: past character death Pairings: Caduceus & The Mighty Nein, minor Yasha/Zuala and Yeza/Veth

Caduceus can see ghosts. He uses this ability to comfort the M9 members who have lost loved ones.

Reccer says: it's a very cool concept, and i love that he can also use the absence of a ghost to confirm that someone is still alive. this fic has a sort of gentle angst to it and then catharsis with every conversation caduceus has with the others.

in the dream we are always posthumous by hanap (4219,Teen) Warnings: Grief, Angst, Sharing a Body Pairings: Kingsley & Mollymauk & Lucien

In which Kingsley wakes up and discovers that he isn't his body's only occupant.

Reccer says: Kingsley learns to be his own person while he reconciles with the fact that his body used to belong to two other people who still whisper to him. He resents it at first, then realizes the voices are beginning to fade.

The Doom of Gelvaan by Tangent101 (5520,Not Rated) Warnings: None Pairings:

Imogen was only six years old when her father died. The town turned against her, believing her cursed. And then a stranger appeared at the edge of town...

Reccer says: I liked it

Setting Up Stones On a High Hill Side by Senor_Sparklefingers (11140,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

In the aftermath of the release of Uk'otoa, Kingsley loses a friend, makes a visit to the Blooming Grove, and says goodbye.

Reccer 1 says: This is part of an ongoing series about Kingsley in the aftermath of the CR2 finale but you don't need to have read the first to enjoy this one. I love stories that commit to the fact that Kingsley is just as much Lucien as he is Molly and Lucien's side of things has a lot to grieve. Reccer 2 says: There's a lot of stories that touch on Kingsley dealing with things from Molly's past or struggling with memories inherited from Molly, but not that many that deal with things related to Lucien, so it's a nice change to see that. Plus, anything that touches on the Cad and King friendship is nice.

If you liked this rec list, follow along for more! We'll be posting a new list with a new theme each Monday. Want to make your own recs? Check out use this form to submit!

Next Monday, we have a Pike Trickfoot themed rec list!

After that, it'll be mysteries, monsters, and then humor

If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!

[missizzy]

Fic: Hold Me in the Darkness(Critical Role, Vaxleth)

It's Keyleth who falls asleep first, this final time. Vax won't sleep yet. He wants just a little more time, just a few minutes, at least, a last chance to memorize her face when it's at peace. He knows it won't be again while he's still alive.

Will I remember her? he silently asks the Raven Queen. Will I remember Vex? Will I remember any of them?

It frightened him, her realm, in a way it hadn't before that day. It's not even how dark and cold and lonely it was; he could face all that. It's that this time, he felt the effect it had on him. His heart feels colder now, and he's been fighting a feeling of distance from events since he got back. And that's just from a few hours.

When he next meets with Vex after this battle, it will, hopefully, have been a century and a half. When he nexts meets with Keyleth, it ought to be well over a thousand years. Even if he does remember their names, does remember all his friends, what use will that be, if he can feel nothing for them by the time they die?

Looking at Keyleth now, Vax still feels so much. And it's hard for him to imagine beholding her and not being overcome with love and adoration. He's letting it flow through him now, trying to commit the feelings to memory.

There are so many people he could do this for. He conjures mental images of them instead. It is easiest for those who sleep here with them in the Feywild; he can even hear Grog's faint snores when he remembers nights on the road, all of them huddled together for warmth. He thinks of Shaun, and Allura and Kima, wishes them strength to get through the hour this will be for them. Of Tary, probably now begun his journey back to Wildemount.

Of Korrin, and of all the friends he's made this year in in Zepyrah, whom he cheerfully said goodbye to only a few weeks ago, none of them knowing he'd never see them again. That's a whole new pain to lance through him, another thing he still can't imagine being indifferent to-but he knows what's to come could make it so.

Ironically, it's words from Ellaila, now happily married and living her own life, but making sure to drop in on Keyleth now and then, that hang in his head, "You strike me as a happiness an Ashari leader isn't supposed to get to have." She went on to say how happy she was to see Keyleth have it anyway, had no reason to think she might lose it.

Nor, in all probably, has she ever had any idea of how her old friend once felt about her. That's one of the many things about Keyleth only Vax knows.

One of the many things where soon, there'll be noone to know them.

It's not even just himself he's worried about when it comes to the future preservation of a heart and a soul. Even when he hoped to live a full life out with Keyleth, he feared what would happen to her, she who loved so much and so deeply, when she started losing all the people she loved, and he hopes she will love others, but then she'll lose them, too. How much pain can a heart take, before even the softest one has to grow hard?

How much will losing him now speed up that process? Vax actually doesn't think it will immediately, but he knows she'll feel this loss for years, maybe even decades. He fears in a century and a half's time, when his sister dies, it'll cause it to spring anew for her, all over again.

He supposes he might not remain in total ignorance of how everyone will fare. The Raven Queen has now had the chance to import a bit more information to him of what his future duties will be as her champion, and it will on occasion involve him in the affairs of this world; he might even come back into it for brief moments, at her bidding.

And even when he wouldn't, and she might even keep him from his friends, she herself certainly keeps track of what's going on. She's been doing so for the lot of them since she first found them in the tomb of her previous champion-and now she'll have to keep doing so, thanks to the understanding the two of them came to, in these last few hours he's been dead again.

She's certainly not the only one at the moment, either. The gods are seemingly all communicating with each other about these people who have come to receive their favor. There even seems to be some gossiping going on, and between gods Vax certainly wouldn't expect it from. At least enough so that the Matron has now passed on to him what Pelor sensed inside his sister when she plunged into his holy fire.

Vax doesn't think she knows yet. He doubts it was planned. Hells, it's all too possible she'll find out from a miscarriage; the battlefield is no place for a woman who wants to keep her baby. Though she hasn't suffered one so far, even when she was briefly dead, and that gives him hope she'll get through the rest of this without it happening.

Of course, even if she does, she and Percy will still inevitably have children. De Rolos must have their heirs, and Vax knows Vex wants children, too. Nieces and nephews he won't get any time with, who will know him only from their mother's stories. To some extent, the thought that he'll miss meeting the first of them by so little taunts him. But it would've been worse for him to not know. It's still a consolation he can hold on to, one more person who'll see to it that his sister won't be at all alone.

That is a comfort, he thinks, to know those he love won't be alone. He wishes, more than ever, that Vex and Percy had only waited long enough to have him at their wedding, but at least he knows now they have each other for good. He's also more glad than ever Scanlan is now back with them, and indicating that at the very least, he won't cut himself off completely again any time soon. Pike and Grog, too, will remain in their circle, and Vax very much hopes they haven't seen the last of Tary, either.

But even there, he can't be as consoled when it comes to Keyleth. She'll be less supported at home, with only an aging father left to love her, burdened with responsibilities that will leave her with only so much time to be where her other friends are.

I need to keep helping her. The realization wraps himself around him like his armor, a thing he absolutely must do, no two ways about it, period. A simple fact, unshaken even by the additional fact that he has no idea how to do it. Instead, that just further fuels a feeling of determination, not necessarily stronger than those he's felt before, but it settles down deeper within him, an eternal commitment of the kind the living aren't ever in position to make.

And the mistress he'll be going to serve soon can thinks what she wants about it. He's accepted her demand, yes, and that by itself is just fine. But she knows he ultimately did all of it for people other than himself, and she ought to realize what that means. And this new feeling, he instinctively knows, she and her realm can never destroy. Maybe he can even preserve more of himself within it than he'd keep otherwise. Bury it all down, maybe not hidden, exactly, but kept out of sight and mind, until it comes time to act on it.

Keyleth sighs in her sleep, and shifts over; her head was already more facing him than not, but now her arms fall over him. She now has bourn his cold touch without flinching while awake, but even with her asleep, Vax still tenses up when one of her hands finds the bare skin of his, still expecting it to shy away.

There's just enough light filtering in for some of her freckles are still visible. Vax spent the year he had with her trying to memorize them. He never quite managed it for them in their entirety, but those on her face he can see with his eyes closed. He wants so badly to touch, that would wake her for sure.

So instead, he keeps watching. He's so close, he can see her throat rising and falling as she breathes. Everything around her is warmth. Vax has, in the past, joked to himself-and to her, once-that she might radiate just a little sunlight even when she isn't casting any spells. Now, he thinks he could be brought to believe it, if he only had a little more time.

Even while she continues to sleep, Keyleth's arms continue to move. One of her hands finds his back; Vax can feel a little extra warmth against his armor. He thinks that her fingers are pressing pretty hard against him, even as he can see her other hand sprawled out by his head, fully relaxed, but maybe inching toward him as well. She hasn't tried to cling to him too much while awake, but maybe right now she can't help herself.

Cling, my fierce, beautiful Kiki, Vax mentally says to her. Cling until you rip away a part of me; it should be so easy to do so. Keep it safe for me until we meet again.

If he lasts long enough tomorrow, maybe she'll pull it off.

He's just telling himself he does need to sleep, and closing his eyes, when he hears a strange caw, from somewhere maybe not too far off, although who knows in this realm. It's probably not a raven; the birds are different here. But it kind of sounds like one.

For a moment he thinks he should resent that. But when he doesn't, he's not going to force the feeling. The Raven Queen is with him anyway, has always been this past year. He had even found himself spotting ravens in Zepyrah, at least every few days, and often thought they were looking at him. That's not even been something he's never been glad for.

And in another moment, he's glad for it again. Because as he closes his eyes at last and settles into his beloved's embrace, the beginning of an idea starts to form in his head.