#brain finally moved out of whatever stage of grief it was on previously)

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

me 🤝 my ex bf

getting into a new relationship way too soon following the end of ours with a blonde who has less than based political stances objectively isnt a great person and got very overly attached to us far too quickly and it was suffocating

[sometimesiwrite]

Just a Scratch

B I N G O ! 

Prompt: It’s Just a Scratch

Pairing: Lambert/Aiden; Eskel & Lambden; Implied Geralt/Eskel 

Rating: Teen 

Summary: Lambert and Aiden are moving to start the next leg of their adventure together. Eskel sees them off.

Warnings: Modern AU; bittersweet; friends leaving; implied COVID distancing A/N: For Ben & Jemma

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo @continentcakeshop @morethangeraskier​

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33145900

“All set?” Eskel asked, squishing in one final duffel bag into the footwell and backing himself out of the rear door of Aiden’s VW Golf. Anya, Lambert and Aiden's husky mix, dozed sleepily in the back seat despite the excitement, having been rudely awoken at 6:30am to confusedly do her business.

“That’s it,” Aiden shrugged, letting the trunk close with a dull, satisfying thud. He opened his arms questioningly, and Eskel wasted no time pulling him into an affectionate squeeze, touching his hand to the back of Aiden’s head before pulling away. 

“You take care of yourself. Let me know when you make your first stop, alright? Anything goes wrong, just let me know.” 

“We’ll call you from the hotel,” Aiden reassured as he flipped the car keys over his finger.

“I still say we can make it to Port Hope by the end of the day if we push it.” Lambert was tucked under the hood, giving the car one final check for fluid levels (tyre pressure had already been meticulously checked earlier that morning).

Aiden tilted his head, “That’s if you drive and unfortunately the highway patrol doesn’t care about fuel efficiency if you’re going ten over the speed limit.” He ambled his way over behind Lambert to get a cheeky eye-full of his favourite view, “Besides, I need you to put that sexy brain of yours to work for navigation.”

“Oi! Gerroff!” Lambert protested and Aiden backed away, but not before getting in a perfectly resonant smack. “If you had it your way, you horny old bastard, we’d be stopping every two hours to—”

 Eskel pointedly cleared his throat, scratching his head as he met Aiden’s eyes with a mixture of amused pride and endearing awkwardness that Aiden had so quickly grown to love. He would miss Eskel. They'd gotten close over the last five years, close enough that they had become friends of their own—each keeping the other company when Lambert or Geralt was out of town, planning surprises... 

Aiden's proposal had gone perfectly, their crowning achievement of mutual scheming. Lambert didn't even try to deny the fact that he'd cried like a baby—candles, dusk, his favourite hiking trail, champaign. Even Anya had behaved herself. That is, until she decided her owners had been embracing for too long and not paying nearly enough attention to her. Eskel had offered to edit that part out of the video, but Lambert insisted on keeping it in—"What's a special moment without our favourite dingus. Isn't that right, Anya? Are you a dingus? Yes! Yes you are!" 

“Not gonna miss us at all, are ya, big guy?” The hood latched heavily as Lambert wiped his hands and stowed the oil rag in the passenger's side door next to the Stanadyne.

"You kiddin'? I'm gonna miss you like hell. C'mere." Eskel wrapped Lambert in a bear bug that nearly crushed his goddamn ribs. 

"Easy, Eskel, Jesus I gotta breathe!" 

"Sorry," Eskel eased off, but he didn't let go. There hadn't been enough hugs in the last year. The last few months had barely made up for it, and now there would be far fewer. More dinners over Skype, more sporadic phone calls, occasional texts... watching his and Aiden's life unfold over Instagram and Facebook. But at least they would be happy, Eskel told himself. At least they were starting the next stage of their lives together with an adventure they'd remember forever. This was important for them. And yet the chill, damp fog of isolation was already creeping in around Eskel. Even as he held Lambert close to him and swallowed tears he'd save for later. 

One final squeeze and a pat on the back, and Lambert turned to get in the car, tossing a treat to Anya as he settled in. Aiden gave Eskel a final peck on the cheek, "Take care of yourself, alright? Don't be a stranger. Call, text, whatever. We're always happy to hear from you. Promise?"

Eskel nodded soberly, "I will. Thanks, Aiden." 

"We'll skype when we get to the new place. I want you to see it before it gets cluttered with boxes. We could even do dinner or—"

Eskel waved a hand, "We'll figure something out. Just get there in one piece, and send pictures. I'm not worried." 

Aiden smiled warmly, "Good. Good." A heavy exhale, "Alright, well..." 

"I hate to interrupt the bleeding hearts moment, but we've got commuter traffic piling up on the 606 as we speak! Get your gorgeous butt in the car, we gotta move!"

Aiden took a beat, "Yes dear!" 

"Okay, Anya! You be good!" Eskel gave the chocolate-and-caramel pup one last scritch behind the ears and closed the rear door just in time for the stereo to start playing Journey.

The car rolled down the driveway and Eskel watched until it disappeared over the hill past the stop sign. When the gravelly diesel purr was finally drowned out by late summer cicadas, Eskel sat heavily on the front steps with his coffee. He couldn't bring himself to open the door and go back inside. Something about the stark emptiness of a home previously occupied with guests made the aimless silence too loud. Besides, robins and cardinals were better than daytime tv for company. Finally, Eskel rested his forehead against his thumbs and let the wave of emotion breach the dam.

Shedding tears was something Eskel usually associated with significant pain—rage, grief, remorse, indignation—an open wound that took time and tending to heal. This wasn't like that, though. This was a scratch. Simple, uncomplicated pain: he was sad. Eskel couldn't remember the last time he'd cried because he was just... sad. Decades ago, he imagined, though he couldn't pinpoint a specific moment. It was something children did before emotions became more complicated. But here he was, sitting on his front steps, crying because he was sad. Eyes streaming, hot and wet down his cheeks because his friends were leaving. Just a scratch.

He felt silly, crying over something so inconsequential— and a man as touch-needy as Eskel, bearlike as he was, was left with the sinking feeling that, aside from Geralt, he might not touch another person for a rather long time.

It's not that they didn't have friends, of course, and he would talk to them later that night. He was helping to plan their wedding for chrissake, it's not like they would never speak again. But proximity to other people was something that had grown increasingly scarce, and Eskel—bearlike as he was—had the sinking feeling that, aside from Geralt, he might not touch another person for a while. 

Lambert and Aiden had an uncomplicated relationship with affection that always freed Eskel from the burden of second-guessing the odd touch to a shoulder or elbow. So many others had different personal spaces, many of which had expanded recently. Eskel was happy to respect, and accommodate, but Eskel always felt most himself when he could be affectionate with the people he cared about, and with those two gone, it suddenly felt as though a part of his identity was being forced back into shadow and shyness.

Eskel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he sniffed loudly before answering. "Yup? Geralt, hi. Yeah, they just-just left. I'm ok-I'm okay. You know. Goodbyes are never easy. How's the conference? Heh. Good, good. Tell him I send my regards... Listen, I should get to work. No, I’m okay, I'll call you later... Will do. I l— I love you, too, hon. Buh-bye.” 

Eskel hung up the phone and stared quietly at the bird feeder for a few more minutes before going back inside, feeling as though something in the cosmos had shifted. 

[wexhappyxfew]

Shannon! I have a question for today, it might be a little broad, but how did you come up with Natia’s character? :)

AMY!!! hello! sorry that i have *just* gotten to this as my weeks have increasingly gotten insanely busy between my job starting back up, school, college stuff, and ap exam chaos as well haha! i did this at about 11pm(?) and i'll be queuing it up for the morning for you, but outside of tumblr, i've thought a lot about this question and what i really wanted to include in this question. having almost spent 10 months spent writing and developing natia to who she is today makes a whole lot of stuff move through my brain when i go back to my developing stages for her! thank you for the question (and the broadness, never fear, i absolutely love it!)

Natia's character really came from the idea of just wanting to really push myself out of the box and *out there* to see what I could do. And I will say Landslide is one of my most *out-there* projects in terms of content - I mean we have Death as a personified character, crazy Agent Mortem, all these past connections to Natia? It's chaos haha! But, I had experimented previously with a partly Polish-OC, Hazel Parker of "The Soldier of Stars", and from that, I went, well there's no centrally focused Polish OC yet that I have seen (this was back in like June-July 2020 mind you, so there probably has been Polish OCs created since this time!!) and I had always felt that the Warsaw Uprising was inherently important! I also read up on the Polish Resistance and how they were the most effective resistance group of continental Europe during the war, with ultimately the Warsaw Uprising being their last final push that did sort of end that.

Something I've really enjoyed about creating Natia's character was putting a great focus on her flaws. Now, her strengths are just as important - she is a great soldier in the field, she's highly intelligent and can make quick decisions on the fly, she withholds a lot of strength when it comes to situations where she needs to focus, she's observant, and she keeps herself fairly humble when not bursting at the seems. She doesn't let herself get stepped over very often (unless it's Mortem) and if anything she will insert herself, and show what skills she has, but she won't go overboard. She's also passionate about her country and her people and she always has something to fight for and even when she feels all hope is lost, she withholds a tiny little sliver no matter what, even if she doesn't feel it. But her flaws I feel are a massive part of her character. She's stubborn, she won't let people help her, she has trouble expressing emotion, she numbs herself more often than not to not feel the pain that she is supposed to feel, she blames everything on herself, she gets hot-headed quite easily, and grows to the point of nearly irrational at some moments in time and even will let her emotions get the best of her in times like this. But that makes up who Natia is as a character and who she is as a person in general.

But even with the strengths and flaws of her character, it makes her very much still a human being. And that was one of my main goals when creating Natia - make her human enough to make that angst HURT, but make her human enough that when you see her succeed or even the little wins here and there, you want to cheer. Because those are human moments. And I know this sort of character creation is not for everyone, but for me over the past near-year, this has been one of my favorite things about creating Natia because I've found myself able to relate to her even though I'm so vastly different from her.

I did some research on a British-Polish SOE Agent, Krystyna Skarbek otherwise known as her alias Christine Granville and I took a few liberties from this amazing woman and used it on Natia. But things such as Agent Mortem, Death/War connection and the eventual introduction of another character Solomon Campbell (who will be in Part 3), as well as the Resistance group of Part 1 and her siblings and parents, are all more of my own ideas and connections!

Something I have had a LOT of fun doing is showing that even though on the exterior Natia seems cold-hearted and dark and numb, and whatever other *cold+dark* ideas can be thought up, she is very much underneath -- not that. We can see how much evidently she cares for someone like George Luz; I mean even Joe Liebgott has pointed it out to her. She always is just trying to do her best and do what is best in the situation - no longer it is about what is good or bad anymore to her, it's about doing what's best in the situation for the time being, and I really love that aspect of her character a lot! We can see that when the war ends, she wants to live on the English coast, far away from war all alone with a dog and even a little goat in a seaside cottage. She grew so attached to the word AWOL after Joe Toye came and sat with her that night in Holland and they talked for once about something other than war. She even withheld her name, her nationality and just about everything else to keep the idea of the cold-face agent she thought she was up so the men of Easy Company don't have to know the real her. But -- was it to protect her...or to protect Easy? All these little ideas I threw in there to show that she is actually, very, compassionate in many ways, and caring and attentive and observant of the men and women she works with.

I really try to show that Natia listens when she listens to someone speak and she observes and she pays attention more than anything. And she ends up, holding information like that close to her and finding comfort in it.

My goal with Natia was to show that there can be a balance to "the bad-ass fighter" idea who fights for what she believes, but also remain human as well. We can see how much things affect her, especially the loss of friends. Of course, she doesn't show this to other people, but to use as readers, we see this and we see her occasional breakdown - and in a way, she continues living on their legacies because she listened to what they had to say. For example, Zdzich told her to not let the war overtake her, and throughout the story so far, we've see her sort of repeat this to herself in various ways. Because Zdzich meant that much to her. She's lost so much by this point in war that almost it's so sad to see that she, from what we all know of BoB, still has to go through so much, but at that point, she's fought so much, that all she can do it keep pushing on with it.

I think one of the most interesting moments from writing Natia was when the first few chapters were actually uploaded on platforms and there was someone really coming after Natia for her decisions and for this, that and the other thing (amy if i vaguely remember i think you remember who this person is as well because you clapped back at them once, and man your response was GOLD!!!). One of those things was Natia's approach with food (TW: mentions of struggling to eat with food, references of depression and struggling to eat, mental health issues relating...) and the person who commented would always be saying something about how she needs to eat, and she needs to remain strong and she needs to snap out of it with her depression and all this other stuff and to be honest, I sort of sat there for a moment like??? But there's reasons WHY she's not eating? Why she's holding back? (And of course ones I had mentioned so...) But let's move on.

Mental health was a prevalent thing in World War 2, though it was not looked upon fondly and Natia essentially does have depression as well as a border-line eating disorder. And so when the comment said that she had to snap out of it, I don't know it sort of off-put me because I have family with both those disorders and they've had treatment for it for years and you can't just snap out of it. I really tried to stress that 'the snapping-out-of-it" does not work, and the person kept firing back a bit at it, so I just moved on from it and ignored it. Natia's struggle with eating, as one can see, also comes from the heavy guilt and grief that is slowly uncovered throughout the story of what Natia has done and what has happened throughout the course of the war to her. Natia's number one thing she constantly does and has now become the focus of many character relationships with her (ie Doc Gene Roe) is the clenched fists, that she squeezes until they bleed and eventually need wrapped up by the Doc. Something she also refuses to accept she has a problem with. As we can see, acceptance is a concept she struggles with more than anything and something she will essentially have to learn to simply, accept.

That's just sort of one of the many bits of information about her character that I added, especially in society today as mental health is so important and so I just wanted to share a bit of the backlash I got from someone for it. But I guess that's life, but I'll continue to write Natia Filipska as an OC who does struggle with depression because of her life in war.

Natia's character and her story is probably one of the most complex characters and stories I've written and crafted and created and I'm just extremely happy with how she ended up coming out in the end! I'm about to go and do some writing and editing for her and it's just so exciting writing her because of all these various levels she withholds and she slowly lets uncover as the story unfolds! I just love it! OH - and we can't forget about the infamous mentions of the piano....yep that'll be coming up soon haha!! <3

THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTION AMY!!! IT MEANT SO MUCH!!!! just getting to talk about Natia a little bit and her character and what my mind set was creating her - it means so much. my mindset with her is somehow always changing and shifting as she goes through her character arc throughout the story and how her developmental shifts and it's just something i really love and enjoy more than anything!!! <3 so thank you for letting me just talk about it for a little while as well as my thoughts and opinions, it means a lot :)

[flowerfan2]

The One That Remains

Johnlock, 2k, A03

Summary:  Sherlock wakes up in hospital confused... but it all turns out even better than he could have dreamed. 

Sherlock’s head feels heavy, and is throbbing dreadfully.  There are voices nearby – he can tell they are trying to speak softly, but each sound crashes into him like storm-churned waves against a cliff.  His mind is filled with fog and he can’t make sense of what he hears. Regretfully, he lets himself slip back into unconsciousness.

When he wakes again, the pain has faded to a manageable ache.  He holds still, not wanting to aggravate his head again, and tries to take stock.  In hospital, obviously, but with a minimum of support.  He carefully shifts his toes and fingers, and, reassured that nothing catastrophic seems to have taken place, opens his eyes.

“Ah, there you are.”  He hears John’s voice as his face comes blearily into focus.  “Gave me quite a scare this time, love.”  There’s a hand grasping tightly to his, and Sherlock quickly closes his eyes again.

Clearly he has underestimated his condition.  John is stubbornly loyal, and surprisingly forgiving, but he doesn’t call Sherlock love, and they don’t hold hands.  Not even in hospital, not even when their world seems to be ending. He can count the times they’ve hugged on one hand (and could do so even with the loss of a few fingers).  John may be getting over the grief of Mary’s betrayal, and has tentatively agreed to move back in to Baker Street, but things between them are decidedly not at the hand-holding stage, and never will be. John has made that abundantly clear on multiple occasions.

 “That’s all right, then,” John says, in apparent reaction to Sherlock’s refusal to open his eyes.  “Sleep as long as you want.  You’re going to be fine, don’t worry.”  Sherlock feels John’s fingers gently push his hair off his forehead, and it’s all he can do not to fling that taunting appendage away.  “I’m here, it’s okay.  You’re safe.  You can rest.”

 He flees into his mind palace, searching for an explanation for John’s behavior.  He quickly eliminates injury to himself – that’s happened dozens of times, and never resulted in physical affection along these lines, in fact it’s much more likely to elicit a reprimand.  He’s considering whether John could also have been injured in whatever case resulted in Sherlock’s own hospitalization, but he can’t imagine what would cause John to act in this manner other than some type of love potion and he’s not so far gone that he’s willing to acknowledge the possibility of such nonsense.

 No, the only explanation that seems even remotely fitting is that Sherlock is caught in a dream, a dream where his deepest, most secret desires are permitted to see the light of day.  A dream where John loves Sherlock.

 Sherlock is considering whether he can convince his brain to stay in this dream for at least a short time, enough to measure the length of each of John’s fingers against his own, and possibly hear a few more endearments uttered in John’s quiet just-for-Sherlock voice, when his musings are interrupted by a much less welcome visitor.

 “Brother mine, I know you’re not asleep.”

 Sherlock hears John chuckle, and then withdraw his fingers from Sherlock’s.  Sherlock tenses, forces himself not to grab at John’s hand, but he tells himself he has only dreamed it anyway and tames his unacceptable response.  It can’t hurt to lose something you never really had.

 John and Mycroft exchange meaningless words, something inane about poor quality coffee, and then Sherlock is alone with Mycroft.

 He revises his conclusion.  This isn’t a dream, it’s a nightmare, and not even a very interesting one.

 “Come now, brother.  Open your eyes.”

 Sherlock huffs and looks up at Mycroft. Pristine suit, clean shaven, eyes no more tired than usual.  Sherlock is clearly not in any unusual danger, nor is the rest of the world.  

 “When will I wake?”  he asks, realizing as he does that his dream Mycroft isn’t likely to know the answer any more accurately than Sherlock himself does.

 Mycroft smirks.  “You’re wide awake now, Sherlock.”

 “I’m not.”  Sherlock petulantly flops over on his side, facing away from Mycroft.  If dream Mycroft isn’t going to help, he might as well go away and let dream John return.  Dream John is lovely.  Dream John should stay forever.

 “You’ve been drugged.  It’s altered you a bit but it will wear off completely soon.  Shouldn’t have any lasting effects.”

 “Go away.”

 “I told John I’d stay until he returned, and I will do so.”

 Sherlock twists and looks at Mycroft over his shoulder.  “He’s coming back?”

 A fond look washes over Mycroft’s face, and that more than anything convinces Sherlock that he’s dreaming. Mycroft’s face is not designed to look fond.  It’s not in his programming.  “Of course he’s coming back.”

 Sherlock presses his face into his pillow and pouts.  Mycroft is keeping something from him, but Sherlock can’t weasel it out of him in his present condition.  Sherlock needs more data, wants to spring from the bed and examine the situation from every angle, but he’s bone crushingly tired and can’t seem to summon the necessary energy to do it.  Maybe John will return, and Sherlock can rest with dream John holding his hand until he has recovered enough to break out of this confusion and return to reality.

 John does return, bringing the aroma of coffee into the room.  As Mycroft is still present, John comes around to Sherlock’s other side and draws a chair close.  Sherlock squints an eye open, and sees John gazing right back at him.  He quickly shuts his misbehaving eye.  It won’t do to reveal too much, not without more information.

 “It’s all right,” John says, his breath fluttering close against Sherlock’s face.  A stale almond croissant, apparently, was consumed along with the coffee.  Sherlock tosses away this unhelpful deduction and focuses on the much, much more interesting feeling of John’s hand stroking along his forehead and carding through his hair.  “You’re okay. It’s just me, love.”

 There it is again, that word, it doesn’t make any sense.  It’s not for him, it can’t be, it never has been before.  Sherlock doesn’t argue, though, he’ll take it, gratefully.  John strokes his hand along Sherlock’s forehead again, and despite himself, Sherlock pushes ever so sneakily into John’s soothing touch.  He’s rewarded with a soft sound and the feel of damp lips against his cheek, and he wonders if he can dream this dream forever, because it’s the best dream he’s ever had.

 But John sits up, saying goodbye to Mycroft as his brother (finally) takes his leave.  Now John’s hand is threading through Sherlock’s again, which is acceptable as it is John’s other hand this time, and it gives Sherlock the opportunity to gather further data, to compare this hand with the one previously examined, to shift each of his fingers carefully against the skin of John’s fingers:  shorter than his own, nails neatly trimmed, callouses where expected…

 Sherlock’s breath catches in his chest, and he freezes.  If John notices he doesn’t say anything, just continues to hold Sherlock’s hand as a nurse engages him in vacuous small talk about the weather.  But Sherlock has encountered something which sends his dream crashing down around him, which shatters his fantasy so completely that he might as well send John back to Mary and go home to Baker Street, alone and miserable as always. But wait- that’s wrong, John isn’t with Mary any more, Mary is dead, Sherlock knows this, he was just thinking about how John was putting the entire Mary debacle behind him… it occurs to him, like a beam through the fog of his mind, that whatever happened to him must have affected his memory.

 Sherlock must have allowed his confusion to show on his face, because John has noticed this time (he does observe, occasionally), and is speaking in his worried doctor voice.  But it’s not the same as it used to be, there’s something else going on, sentiment coloring his words.  Sherlock can’t stand this, he isn’t able to deduce anything correctly in this state, it’s unacceptable and intolerable and it’s scaring him.

 “Sherlock?  You okay?”

 Sherlock squeezes his eyes shut, and a tear slides down his cheek.  Well done, he thinks to himself.  Now he’ll definitely believe you’re asleep.

 “Hey, it’s okay.”  John wipes the tear away with a fingertip.  “Don’t cry, love.  It’s really okay.  Trust me. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s okay.”

 Still an idiot, Sherlock thinks. That statement makes no sense. There are any number of things he can be thinking that are decidedly not okay.

 “The drugs will wear off soon, Sherlock.  You got a low dose, you’ll make a full recovery.  Molly went over your results from the last victims, and she’s sure of it.”

 Sherlock doesn’t know what Molly Hooper has to do with any of this.

 “Come on, relax.  Take some deep breaths for me.”  John is running his hand over Sherlock’s head again, and Sherlock can feel the offending item hard against his skin.  Deep breaths aren’t going to help this situation.

 “Tell me what’s wrong, love. Just tell me, let me help.”

 That word cuts through him, and Sherlock can no longer control himself.  “You’re married,” he spits out, anger and confusion coloring his voice. “Go home to her.  Stop torturing me.”  He knows it doesn’t make any sense, he knows Mary is gone.  But then why is John wearing a ring?

 John’s hand pauses in its journey across Sherlock’s forehead, and cups his cheek.  “Sherlock, open your eyes.”

 Sherlock shakes his head.

 “Please,” John says softly, without even a hint of his Captain Watson voice, and Sherlock, helpless against this, complies.

 John’s face is so dear, even with a few extra lines he doesn’t quite remember, and his eyes are shining bright as they meet Sherlock’s own.

 “I am married,” he says quietly, a smile tugging at his lips.  “Very happily married.”  John shifts and pulls something out of his pants pocket and takes Sherlock’s hand in his own.  “And so are you.”

 Sherlock gasps as John holds up a ring for him to see, and then slips it on to Sherlock’s finger.

 “This isn’t happening.  I’m dreaming,” Sherlock insists, but John just gazes at him sweetly and presses a coffee-scented kiss to his cheek.

 “Wait – stop it – John – this isn’t-”

 “It’s okay, love.  Just rest easy.  You’ll remember soon.”

 “What are you talking about?” Sherlock wonders if he is having a panic attack – can you have a panic attack in your dream?  If you stop breathing in a dream, what happens then? Do you snap out of the dream when you die?  He realizes he’s basing this particular concern on that infernal dreamsharing movie John made him watch, and drags his focus back to John.  John, who is shuffling his chair even closer to Sherlock’s bed and leaning down until he’s practically embracing Sherlock.

 “I wasn’t supposed to say anything until the drugs wore off, it just agitates the victims to realize that their memory is impaired.  I should have realized you’d figure it out, though.  My brilliant madman.”  John is snuggling against Sherlock, and Sherlock can feel the rise and fall of John’s chest against his own.

 “Breath with me.  Come on.  Humor me.”

 Sherlock does, his nose practically touching John’s cheek, warm air exchanged between them as Sherlock matches his exhalations to John’s.  When the room stops spinning, he pulls his left hand out of John’s grasp, and looks at the ring John placed on his finger.  He slides it off, blinking at the familiarity of the sensation, and sees the inscription. The one which remains.

 “You had a hard time believing this the first time around, too,” John says.  “We each inscribed the other’s rings.  Want to see mine?”  John tugs his own ring off and shows it to Sherlock.  Inside is written conductor of light.

 “This is a very detailed dream,” Sherlock says, returning John’s ring to him, and letting John put his own back on his finger again.  It settles easily, as if Sherlock’s hand adjusted to its shape long ago.

 “A good one?”  John asks, his eyes searching Sherlock’s face.

 “The very best,” Sherlock says seriously.  He doesn’t know what to think as John snuggles – snuggles – back down against him, one arm going around his shoulders as Sherlock lies there dumbfounded. Could John be right?  Could they be married?  How had Sherlock possibly pulled that off, how had he convinced John Watson to trust him with his heart?  It is both too incredible to believe, and at the same time… eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth.

 “All right then,” John says, tracing a finger along Sherlock’s collarbone.  “Rest a bit.  It’ll all come back to you soon, I promise.”

 Sherlock lets himself drift off, safe and warm in a way that is perplexingly familiar.  When he wakes a few hours later, his husband curled up against him, Sherlock knows this isn’t a dream.  It’s his life, his treasured, improbable life, and it’s better than any dream he possibly could have imagined.

[wellamarke]

Ooo another one: Athena and to some extent, V

(For context, this is about this character Q&A challenge thing that I reblogged back when series 3 was airing!)

WOW OKAY so I was just thinking to myself that it was weird that I couldn’t remember what I’d written about V for this, because I wanted to compare if I still felt the same about her after the finale episode, and Lo and behold (haha, see what I did there) I find that I actually never finished answering, which is why I couldn’t remember what I’d said!

(I know, I know, reading that was tiring, but imagine having to BE me)

Looking back now it’s super unfortunate that I didn’t write the V section when this ask first came in, because it would have been an interesting comparison… but I think I was felled by not having much V content to go on, before 3.8, whereas now I can talk at much more length!

I had, however, finished the Athena section, so here you go, this is what I had already in the draft:

First, Athena:

• Do I like them? Yes, she’s a brilliant character!

• 5 good qualities: She’s SO SMART, oh my life, major brain crush. She uses her intelligence in a way she considers ‘pure’, despite the more lucrative options that are open to her, so she has a strong moral code in a climate ruled by selfish gain. She’s motivated by her love for her daughter, which defies all odds and succeeds in pioneering an entirely new scientific field - what an icon! She takes crap from exactly NOBODY and is sassy as hell in the process. And she’s willing to help Karen, for which she’ll always have a special place in my heart.

• 3 bad qualities: She wasn’t exactly quick to accept synth consciousness, umm, so she killed a bunch of them pretty callously. Like Ed, she was able to convince herself they weren’t really people long enough to serve her own purposes, so that’s… I’m less keen on that. Umm.. she can be a little brusque, I didn’t particularly like her scene with poor Helen Aveling, who was another lady in science trying her best! No need to put her down! I guess from a narrative perspective, I could say that Athena is a little superfluous, especially since she doesn’t seem to be coming back. We’ll count that! Lots of her harder, colder edges are due to her grief so I can’t really find it in me to pin them as ‘bad’. Have I mentioned, this show does amazingly with its characters, particularly its women?!

• Favourite episode: 2.8 was the goodbye to V, right? Ugh, heartbreaking.

• OTP: … this is kind of out of the blue but I could see her and Laura, mayhaps? Certainly there aren’t any human men left alive in the show who could hold a candle to her. Oh, but how interesting if she and Neil Sommer had dated in the past. Heh heh heh.

• BrOTP: Well, I’m so glad that she’s got Karen’s brain scans, so that she can recreate her perfectly and they can love and support one another!

• OT3: Athena & V & a weekly lunch date where V shows up on her tablet screen and checks in with what she’s been doing/how many synths she’s resurrected in her Mind Meadow.

• NOTP: Athena and her kind of boring husband, what was his name? One of those unisex names? I want it to begin with L? Oh well.

• Best quote: “Nothing really bad has ever happened to you, has it? Because when it does, you don’t need reminders about your insignificance to the universe.” I’m quoting from memory so it might not be the exact wording. Amazing line, anyway.

• Head canon: I like to think that Athena did, in fact, have something to do with Leo’s early treatment. I mean, Max isn’t even with him when it happens, so at some point the Elster sibs must have pooled resources and talked about what was going to happen with him. (They probably moped about their literal surgeon brother not being there too). Anyway, somehow they found Athena and she did some salvaging (having also recently practiced with Pete when she uploaded his consciousness, pending upload to a new body) and later handed over to Anatole. Basically my headcanon is that nobody has really died in this show since Athena and V were introduced. Athena knows how to save human minds and V can grab the synths. Sorted.

Now V! The only one I had previously answered was this:

• Do I like them? Yes, bless her digital cotton socks!

Although now I might slightly rephrase that in favour of:

•Do I like them? I think so! But in the words of George Millican, she worries me! Moving on to the rest of the questions…..

• 5 good qualities: She cares about others, and is benevolent towards the synths even though she is a separate species in and of herself, with a less defined concept of “them” and “us”. Where she can, she acts to relieve suffering (giving Odi the rest he wanted, even if we’d rather she hadn’t). She’s resourceful. She’s developing/has developed a strong sense of herself and her chosen role, which is lovely to see as growth since her confusion in series 2. Aaaand, she recognises Niska’s worth and potential (even if… well, see next part).

• 3 bad qualities: She’s not too bothered about Niska’s personal agency, and would rather focus on convincing her to carry out her will. Speaking of her will, she does seem to think her way and ONLY her way is the right way for both organic and synthetic humanity - and while she might be the best disposed to predict future events, having access to the entire world’s knowledge etc…. that still doesn’t make her Actually Omniscient, I’m sorry. Whatever she thinks. And for a third, hmm, maybe she was a little harsh to leave her mother all of a sudden, but for all we know they’re back in contact now?

• Favourite episode: whichever one it was in series 2 where she starts to piece together who she was but refers to Ginny as ‘she’ rather than ‘I’ - that was so powerful and chilling.

• OTP: I’ve never thought about an OTP for V, ha. Hmm, not in the romantic sense, but I think she and Niska COULD be a winning combination, if nothing goes to awry in s4, but I am on standby for Niska having to stand against her at some point and take her down in some epic, badass way. ALTERNATIVELY, can V make Q properly conscious, and we can see what on earth a ship between 2 non-corporeal AI characters looks like? Or rather, doesn’t look like?

• BrOTP: Supposing that V stays nice, I would like her and Astrid to bond about how much they value Niska, possibly for Astrid to give V a talking to about straight up manipulating her, but in general for them to team up in making sure Niska is taking care of herself during her difficult reign as Queen Indigo.

• OT3: Well, Niska and Astrid and V, I suppose, given my last two replies!

• NOTP: That creepy dude with eyes on his eyelids can stay far away from the Synth Who Sleeps that he’s so obsessed with, thank you!

• Best quote: Listen, I will NEVER not get chills about “Why did you ask me to lie to him?” Every time I hear that line, I am there in the auditorium watching the extended trailer for the first time and it’s just SOOOO GOOD.

• Head canon: ahem, okay, buckle up kiddos because this answer requires some backstory. So, since the age of like 14, my favourite book has been Speaker for the Dead, which is basically about future humanity trying to peacefully coexist with a new alien race, centuries after they wiped out the first alien race they encountered. The main character, Ender, is friends with an artificial superintelligence called Jane, who like V, has access to every piece of information on every computer, can process billions of thoughts at once, keeps her existence a secret from most of the human race, and can appear as whatever image she likes on a screen. (Unlike V, she grew out of a computer game rather than being a transferred human consciousness). Aaaanyway. In the book and its sequels Jane shows an interest in helping humanity & the aliens to understand and accept each other, and partly it is because she’s just a sweetheart, but partly, too, it’s because she hopes that if humans can understand the Pequeninos, who have physical bodies, as they do, but are fundamentally different from them in many ways… if they can learn to live with and value this alien race, then maybe one day, Jane hopes, they will also be able to understand and accept her, too, even though she’s not got a physical form and is fundamentally different from them. Sooooo, I immediately loved V in series 2 because she reminded me of Jane and I love Jane, but now with her new role in series 3 I can see even more possible similarities. My headcanon (the point of this entire essay if you’ll remember) is that V’s quest to end conflict between synths and organics is not quite as altruistic as it might seem, but is rather part of a larger plan to gain acceptance for herself. There’s this amazing quote from Speaker, about Jane who, being aware of all the science fiction the human race has come up with, therefore knows how many of us fear the potential of someone like her coming to exist, and how many stories there are about her final destruction. V doubtless knows all the same stories. It’s in her interests to foster an environment of human acceptance of AI consciousness, to set the stage for her own emergence. This is probably a conclusion that is easily drawn without bringing Jane and Speaker into it, but what can I say, I love it when parallels between my favourite things present and deepen themselves. Okay, that’s probably enough of this, hmm?

Since apparently I’ve woken this again, why not send me a character! If you want! Or reblog the thing!