#ch: newton

[wirehead-game]

ok intense quality drop but heres this

im gonna call them the techy trio

i had a full functioning design for ... (gestures) the guy somewhere. i gave him a name and everythign but now i cant find it lolll WAIT NO I FOUND IT HIS NAME IS NEWTON. huh. i chose the name mccarthy b4 i found it becoz john mccarthy is father of ai...

maybe his full name is like. newton mccarthy. or is that so dumb.

ill tag him as newton because the mix of newt --> newton is nice i like it .. hes not human he doesnt need a full name so just newton is fine problyl

next chr i need to redesign is rena. i feel like shes kinda faded over the years and i wanna recapture the tragedy and style of her character

silly concept of vinn coming over to spend time with newt and refusing to ever acknowledge rena. theyre playing old maid and vinn is winning. newton is cheating and he is still losing (he probably deals /cheats at her casino, house always wins) i want to make vinn CRAZY intelligent, that eggman/tails 300iq scientist thing (im in a sonic place lately) i think itd be fun and add some wack to her character

[misshyacinthbridgerton]

It occurred to Penelope that of all the Bridgertons, Hyacinth and Colin were the most alike. It was probably a good thing Colin was so often out of the country. If he and Hyacinth ever joined forces in earnest, they could probably take over the world. - Romancing Mister Bridgerton

[skizzlebeetle]

did u guys know that voltaire was bisexual

[wav3y-zzz]

Voltaire is basically my oc at this point, I like to imagine he's really proud of having the longest hair in the friend group, and will get defensive if anybody tries to challenge his position. Also lone hair Isaac headcannon my beloved😛

[euphoriclusts]

[godscobhhq]

Andy from Toy Story

Name: Andrew' Davis Age: 27+ Profession: UTP Pronouns: UTP FC suggestions: Mason Dye, Connor Swindells, Luke Newton Availability: Open

Biography UTP

Notable character information: Godscobh feels like too small a town for a kid with such big imagination with big shoes too fill.

[webweabings]

GOD SAID, LET NEWTON BE! AND ALL WAS LIGHT

"Paul Davies; // Guy Kawasaki; // "Flammarion engraving", Unknown (1888); // "Portrait of Jean Mielot", by Jean Le Tavernier (1456); // "The New science: 3 complete works: Where is science Going?, The Universe in the Light of Modern Physics, The Philosophy of Physics", by Max Planck; // "Science, Philosophy, and Religion", by Albert Einstein; // Allan Sandage in "Sizing up the Cosmos: An Astronomer's Quest", interviewed by John Noble Wilford; // Louis Pasteur; // AWAKE experiment, CERN (2019); // Eckhart Tolle; // Voltaire; // "A Brief History of Time. ch 11", by Stephen Hawking; // St. John Cristal Casket; // Ralph Waldo Emerson; // Robert Winston; // "George Baker", Unknown artist (17th century); // "Cours de philosophie à Paris. Grandes chroniques de France", Unknown artist (14th century)

[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 2 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Two: All Our Best Years Are Behind

Summary: With the TARDIS out of control, you three end up stranded on a spaceship. Unbeknownst to you all, you're not the only one on board.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, Mention of Su!c!de, 

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N: Tbh, this chapter took a while for me to write because of all the holiday shopping I needed to do tehe! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter and as you know I thrive for feedback, reblogs and comments. Thank you for all the love you've given so far to this series and I can't wait to start writing the next chapter because I have a bunch of ideas swirling around in my mind hehe. Also, please note that English isn't my first language, please forgive me for any grammatical errors or wrong spelling etc. Love you loads!

Song: anything (demo) by Dodie

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, 1666 — MORNING

The TARDIS collides with an unknown object, sending you and Donna tumbling through the room. Donna clings to the railing for stability, but you, unfortunately, lose your balance. As you teeter on the edge of falling, the Doctor swiftly intervenes, grabbing your waist and pulling you close. Your bodies collide in the chaotic scenario as flames and sparks whirl around the console.

The Doctor gently cradles your head with one hand, conducting a swift but thorough assessment for any injuries. Satisfied with the examination, he presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. With a determined look, he retrieves a piece of the console, swiftly making his way to the TARDIS doors. His focus shifts to triangulating your current location and time, a sense of urgency evident in his movements.

You, the Doctor and Donna pop your head out the TARDIS and you can see a bright blue clear morning sky and it seems that you have crashed into an apple tree. You look down to see a man holding an apple while looking up at the three of you in disbelief.

The Doctor, with a quirky smile, introduces you and Donna to the stranger he's just encountered. His charm radiates as he explains, "Oh! Sorry, we’re just slightly out of control. This is my fiancée, Stargazer. My friend, Donna..." He playfully gestures towards Donna, who greets the stranger with a friendly grin, "This is Donna. Donna Noble."

"Hi!" Donna chimes in cheerfully.

The Doctor, ever the quick thinker, continues, "Just dropped some coffee into the console." Donna interjects with a light-hearted assurance, "But don’t worry. He’s got a time machine, which means he can blame me for all eternity."

Ignoring Donna's quip, the Doctor turns to the perplexed man and earnestly asks, "I just need to triangulate. Could you tell me what year this is?"

The man, clearly taken aback, responds, "It’s 1666."

You and the Doctor exchange puzzled glances, your lips puckering in unison as you simultaneously warn the stranger, "Oh! Stay away from London."

The Doctor proceeds to input the year into a device, then has a sudden realization, exclaiming, "Wait a minute. Apple tree. Apple. Man holding an apple in 1666. Are you Sir Isaac Newton?"

"Sir Isaac?" to which the man reveals himself as the renowned figure who discovered gravity.

The Doctor, correcting his error, teases, "Oh! Not yet. Spoilers."

Donna, injecting some humor, remarks, "Have you got the controls set to famous or what?"

The Doctor, with a hint of exasperation, retorts, "If I had controls. Thank you."

Donna playfully engages Isaac Newton, saying, "But it's got to be said, Mr. Isaac Newton, that you, above all others, can appreciate—"

The Doctor interjects with a cautionary, "Oh, no, don't."

Undeterred, Donna persists, "You can appreciate—" and you join in, emphasizing, "Really, really don't." Donna groans and urges, "Oh, come on!"

Turning back to a bewildered Isaac Newton, she asserts, "You can appreciate—" and in unison, the three of you declare, "the gravity of the situation."

A loud bang and fire erupt from behind the three of you, prompting a swift turn to witness the chaotic scene inside the TARDIS. The Doctor hastily tells Isaac Newton, “Oh! Sorry, gotta go. Bye!” You and Donna join in, adding your farewells, “Bye!”

UNKNOWN SPACESHIP — ???

As the TARDIS crash lands, Donna steps out of the TARDIS, beginning to say, “I am never ever—”

After hastily evaluating the impending disaster at the TARDIS console, you and the Doctor realize it's on the verge of erupting in flames. The Doctor seizes your wrist and swiftly ushers you outside, shouting to Donna, "Out of the way!"

Both you and the Doctor hit the ground, Donna in tow, as flames erupt from the TARDIS doors. Strangely, the U.S. Air Force song plays in the background with audible lyrics:

"Here they come

Zooming to meet our thunder

At ‘em, boys, give ‘em the gun"

Lying on the floor, the TARDIS abruptly slams its doors shut, bringing an unexpected end to the song. The three of you are panting on the floor in shock and confusion plastered on your face.

As you three pull yourself up and stand, Donna asks in disbelief and unsureness, “Is it… Is it all right? Is it broken? Is it knackered?”

With a frown, the Doctor strides toward the TARDIS doors and pushes them open. "Uh..."

Ducking your head from underneath his shoulder, you peer inside to assess the damage. The hiss of fire and creaking of objects reach your ears amid the billowing steam surrounding the TARDIS. Both you and the Doctor frown at the sight, and he utters a small, "Ooh."

Gently closing the TARDIS door, the Doctor grips both sides of the time machine with his hands. You take a step back, and Donna softly and sheepishly asks, "Is it bad?"

The Doctor presses his forehead against the blue doors in defeat, groaning, "It was brand-new."

Donna softly says, "Sorry."

The Doctor composes himself, taking a deep breath. He spins around and addresses Donna, saying, “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was.” Donna responds matter-of-factly, accompanied by an awkward smile. “But can we fly? Can you fix it? Can we get back home?”

The Doctor grins, “We can do anything.” Donna laughs in delight.

The Doctor brandishes his sonic screwdriver and says, “Sonic screwdriver,” then pulls out a regular screwdriver, “and a non-sonic screwdriver.”

You and Donna share a laugh, and you playfully point out, “I think a non-sonic screwdriver is just called a screwdriver.”

The Doctor nods, giving you an adorable smile, “Thank you, love.”

“But if I can just reconfigure…” The Doctor starts as he fiddles with the keyhole of the TARDIS, “'Cause this old box can regenerate itself if I can just click it into gear.”

“Am I going mad, or did the TARDIS play ‘Wild Blue Yonder’?” Donna asks both you and the Doctor. He frowns and furrows his brows, “Yeah, it did, didn’t it?”

“What for?” Donna asks, and you reply, “I wonder.”

“We sang that in the choir in primary school. We’d have a little concert every Christmas, but gramps complained. He said, ‘You shouldn’t be teaching children that.’ It sounds all jaunty and fun, but it’s not. It’s the military going to war.” Donna shares as you stand next to her.

“Yeah. It’s the Air Force. The words are ‘wild blue yonder,’ which means the TARDIS played us a war song.” The Doctor frowns in contemplation but then manages to remove a portion of the keyhole. He inserts the end of his sonic screwdriver into the keyhole and clicks a button. The sonic emits a sound as the Doctor continues, “There, now... it can rebuild.”

The Doctor leaves the sonic screwdriver inserted as it continues to hum. The three of you take a few steps back as you hear the TARDIS clattering inside, shifting gears. The Doctor makes a face as he says, “Ooh. Okay? Yes?”

The TARDIS suddenly groans, and you three lean a little backward. Donna then asks, “Is it working?”

“Think so. Strange.” The Doctor comments. After a few seconds, the light atop the police box lights up blue and emits a small ding. The Doctor smiles and clasps his hands together, “There you go! Mending, mending, mending. Give it a bit of time.”

The Doctor then looks around the space you had landed, bends his knees up and down as he says, “So, now. I wonder where we are. Feels like a spaceship? Yeah?”

Donna concurs, “Yeah.”

The Doctor remarks, “Flight.”

Donna then adds, “Spaceship.”

The Doctor scrunches his nose as he shrugs, “Let’s just see.” He moves to what seems to be a door and presses the button on the side, leaving you and Donna to follow him.

“Wow! Nice!” The Doctor remarks as you enter the large, long corridor of the spaceship. Multiple shapes and sizes of grey panels surround the interior walls, while large mechanical beams hold the roof, leaving you in awe of the immense size of the entire spacecraft.

“Big!” Donna comments as she looks around, and The Doctor adds, “Very big!”

“I’d hate to be the cleaner,” Donna says as she gazes up at the high ceilings.

You then spot something in the distance, a small, white figure standing still. Squinting your eyes, you try to make out its shape and say, “Is that—”

The Doctor begins to wave his hand in the air, yelling, “Hello! We just landed. By accident. I hope that’s okay.”

There’s no response from whatever is at the end of the long corridor. Donna leans a little closer and asks, “Is that a person or a thing?”

The Doctor can’t help himself as he looks at the two of you, his tone suggesting, “We could take a look.”

Donna scoffs and points out, “Or we could stay here, wait for the TARDIS to mend itself so I can get back home. My family is waiting for me.”

The Doctor makes a face as he hums and points with his thumb, “Mmm?”

You shake your head while looking up, knowing his curiosity will always win. Eventually, Donna relents, “Yeah, all right.”

The Doctor smiles and shoves a hand down his pocket as he takes your hand in his, and the three of you walk down the massive, long corridor. Donna begins to say “Still, wherever we are, could be worse. We’ve got air. We’ve got lights. We’ve got mavity.”

You and the Doctor glance at each other before nodding along with Donna. Both of you hum and agree, “Yeah.”

“Was it me, or was Isaac Newton hot?” Donna says, and you grin wildly as you nod your head in agreement, saying, “Oh, thank the stars someone said it! 'Cause, yes, he was very hot.”

“He was, wasn’t he? He was so hot.” The Doctor said before realizing, “Oh, is that who I am now?”

You give the Doctor a reassuring squeeze as Donna says to the Doctor, “Well, it was never that far from the surface, mate. I always thought—” She’s cut off by the sudden sound of the TARDIS engine whirring, and the three of you race back to where you had landed to see it disappear.

The Doctor exclaims in panic, “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

“But— What?” Donna says as she takes a small step back in disbelief. You're by the Doctor’s side as your mouth slightly opens in shock, feeling a tightness in your chest of uncertainty.

“You’ll get it back though?” Donna asks, “Doctor, you can get it back.”

The Doctor has wide eyes and a mouth agape as he doesn’t reply. Donna steps in front of the two of you, saying, “Doctor, you can get the TARDIS back, can’t you? Use the sonic.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows dip in the middle, a visible annoyance and frustration as he replies, “It was in the keyhole.”

Donna’s eyes widen, and she stammers as she tries to gather solutions to the problem you three were in. She says, “But you can whistle. You could snap your fingers. You could summon it. Just use that stupid head of yours and get it back.”

The Doctor gives her a look as he grits his teeth in slight rage, and Donna shakes her head at him, pointing a finger as she says, “Oh, don’t you look at me like that. It’s your fault.”

To which you and the Doctor give her a more pointed look, and Donna continues on, “I said, ‘Let’s stay here’. But you two had to wander off.”

You raise your voice as you say, “You wandered with us!”

Donna retaliates with her voice high-pitched, “Oh, like I could stop you both!”

The Doctor adds fuel to the fire, his voice raising, “You spilled the coffee—” He stops himself, not liking where all the blaming and pointing fingers were going. To him, there was no point, so he threw his hands in the air as he turned around, saying, “No.”

The Doctor places both hands on his hips as you let out a deep sigh through your nose as you cover both your eyes with the palms of your hands, rubbing them out in frustration. 

Donna fiddles with the lapels of her coat as she nods and agrees with a soft note, saying, “No.”

The Doctor briefly raises both of his hands in surrender as he softly says, “Sorry.” To which you also add your own, “Sorry, Donna.”

Donna steps back, and her voice shakes as she says, “No. Okay. Fine.” Then you see panic seep through Donna. She begins to pant, her eyes slightly water and rim her eyes, and her lower lip begins to tremble. “Oh— Oh, my God. Where are we?”

You and the Doctor move towards her the moment her lower lip begins to tremble, and Donna has an outstretched hand, trying not to let you two get close, but it’s no use. The Doctor grabs her hand and gives it a small kiss in reassurance. Then you hold on to grab her other hand in support as she whimpers, and she sniffles out, “Rose is waiting.”

The Doctor looks directly into Donna’s shining blue eyes as he says, “I will get you home.” Donna shakes her head, “How?”

The Doctor is serious as he says, “There is one hope. A mechanism on board the TARDIS called the HADS. Hostile Action Displacement System.” He then lets go of Donna’s hand and continues, “If the TARDIS is in danger, it goes away.”

“Goes where?” Donna asks.

“Anywhere. And it only comes back when the danger is gone. I turned it off years ago. I mean, I’d never land anywhere. Once spent three years with the Stargazer in orbit, and I thought, ‘Oh, mmm, turn off the HADS’, but if the TARDIS is rebuilding itself, maybe it clicked back on.” The Doctor explains, and Donna realizes, “But that means we’ve landed in the middle of hostile action.”

To which the Doctor replies with a somber tone, “Yeah.”

In moments like these, you remain silent, your mind kicking into overdrive as it gathers as much information as possible, desperately searching for a solution to the chaotic situation around you.

“There’s something on this ship that’s so bad the TARDIS ran away?” Donna asks, a slight quiver in her voice. The Doctor stammers, “Y-yes.”

Donna takes a moment before declaring, “Then… we go and kick its arse!” She moves to slam the palm of her hand on the button on the wall that opens the door and strides down the corridor with determination. You and the Doctor exchange a look before trailing after her.

“She was very put out. Mrs Bean,” Donna says as the three of you stroll down the long spaceship corridor. The Doctor, intrigued, asks, “Mrs Bean?” Your hand is in his, swaying with the movement of your bodies as you walk. He never wants to let you go again, now that he has you back.

Donna recounts her memory, “Head of the choir. She said, ‘It’s not a war song. It’s jolly.’ That’s what she said, ‘It is jolly.’”

After a brief moment of silence, you turn to Donna with a silly expression, “Mrs Bean?” The three of you burst into laughter at the absurdity of the last name, wondering just how unlucky someone must be to carry a vegetable as their surname for the rest of their life.

“Fenslaw.”

An automated voice echoes through the speakers of the spaceship, causing the pillars and panels to click and clatter as they shift and move around you three. You, the Doctor, and Donna stand still in concern, watching as everything unfolds before settling back into place.

“What was that?” Donna asks with narrowed eyes.

The Doctor frowns as he tries to understand, “Like circuits moving. Or it’s reconfiguring to become…”

“But what was that word? Fenslaw. What’s that mean?” Donna asks.

The Doctor shrugs, “I don’t know. The TARDIS translates, but now it’s gone.”

“No, the TARDIS translates for me. I thought you knew twenty-seven million languages.” Donna points out.

“I know fifty-seven billion two hundred and five, but not this one.” The Doctor says matter-of-factly, and you roll your eyes at his subtle brag. Then he tilts his head slightly, “Unless it’s Mr Fenslaw saying his name?”

Donna shakes her head, “It wasn’t that.”

The Doctor nods and agrees as he parrots back, “It wasn’t that.”

Donna turns and places her hands in the pockets of her coat, jutting her chin out in the direction where the unknown species or object stands from a distance and says, “Jimbo didn’t move. What is that?”

The Doctor begins, “Oh, wait a minute. If I’m right…” Then he steps on a button on the floor with his grey converse, and a mechanism hisses before popping up a small orange hovering transport vehicle. Donna chuckles in amusement as she moves to sit in the passenger seat on the far end.

The Doctor gives you a cheeky grin and exaggerates his accent as he says to the two of you, “Your car, milady.”

“Thank you, Parker.” Donna says with her own exaggerated accent. You sit in between them as the Doctor drives.

After a few meters of driving, the object comes into view, and you say with realization, “Oh, it’s a robot.”

The Doctor pulls the vehicle to a halt, and you three exit the cart as you stand in front of the white, round, and old robot. The Doctor then says, “Hello, Jimbo. Can you talk?” The robot doesn’t move or make a single beep, and the Doctor continues to try to talk to it as he bends down to its height, “You got basic communications, Fenslaw? Fenslaw. No?” He moves an inch closer as he slowly speaks to it, “Fenslaw.”

With no response, the Doctor resorts to knocking on the white metal of the robot’s head, and a hollow echo sounds out. The Doctor waddles a little backward as he continues to ask, “Have you got controllers listening? Hello, I’m the Doctor, this is my soon-to-be-wife the Stargazer,” you interject him by saying, “Haven’t agreed to anything, yet.” He ignores it and continues with introductions, “This is Donna. We need help. We need to—”

He’s cut off as the Doctor takes a slow and mechanical step forward, causing the three of you to jump and take a step back. “Is that it?” Donna asks, wondering if there’s more to it than the robot.

“One step at a time.” The Doctor says, and Donna spirals, “What is it? Maybe it’s an invader. Maybe that’s the hostile action.”

Then you look around the robot, observing it, before remarking, “I think it’s just old. See, look at the rust.”

“It’s primitive if you don’t mind me saying so, Jimbo. Someone got a very old robot out of storage to walk very slowly down a very long corridor.” The Doctor says before taking a long inhale, “Why?”

“Maybe… time slowed down.” Donna guesses and you and the Doctor shake your heads. You then say, “No. We’d feel it in our bones.”

The Doctor points at the robot while saying, “Stay there, Jimbo. No sudden moves.” He then tilts his head back on the cart, “Onwards?” You and Donna hum before following the Doctor back to the cart.

Donna lifts her hand and tells the Doctor, “Uh, I’ve got it.” As you climb into the cart, Donna says, “Allons— as the idiots say— –y!”

She steps on the gas, and the car moves forward, zooming along the corridor. Eventually, you reach the end of the corridor, revealing a door. The three of you move to the door, which slides open.

The door behind you slides down shut as the Doctor calls out, “Hello? Is anyone home?”

With no response, the three of you push forward. The entire room glows in cool blue light, leading you to the front of the ship where you find an empty captain’s chair and two monitors attached to the front.

“Well, definitely a spaceship,” Donna comments as she steps forward to look out the large window in the front, continuing, “If that’s space.”

The Doctor hops into the pilot’s chair, saying, “We’ve got a chair. That’s a good sign. It’s a life form with a bum.” He presses one of the switches on the control panel, adding, “If I can translate their basic one to ten, I can find out where we are. And when. And why.”

Putting on his glasses, the Doctor reads out the screen, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Now I can read the base codes. So, life signs?” After pressing a few buttons, the computer whizzes and chirps, and the Doctor frowns, “None. Just an empty chair.”

“Where have they all gone?” Donna asks, leaning forward, and you feel something shiver up your spine, as if you’re being watched around the corner.

The Doctor hums, “The spaceship seems to have powered down. Basic functions ticking over.” Then something catches your eye, and you point out on the monitor, “Oh. Someone opened an airlock door three years ago. And then it closed.”

“What for?” Donna asks with wide eyes and continues, “This whole ship has been empty for three years?”

“Don’t know,” the Doctor mumbles as he reads the symbols on the screen. Then he realizes and says, “Those numbers are lenses. There’s a camera.” As you lean a little closer to see what the Doctor is saying, you feel him tug you closer and suddenly let you sit in his lap, your entire body flooding with warmth.

You squirm in his lap and playfully smack his shoulder as he lets out a yelp, “Ow!”

You look at Donna apologetically, and she gives you a knowing smile, not letting the display of affection affect her. She hasn’t seen the Doctor this happy in ages.

The Doctor flips a few switches while explaining, “Like a drone. We can see where we are.” As the drone activates, you see what it’s seeing on the screen in front of you, and the Doctor chuckles in excitement, tightening his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he mumbles, “Well, it’s definitely a spaceship.”

Donna asks, “What kind of spaceship?”

“Don’t know,” the Doctor replies honestly. Then the drone appears from the front of the ship, shining a bright flashlight in your direction. The Doctor moves his head to the side and uses a hand to wave, “Ah! Hello!” which you see on the monitor to your left.

“But if we’re in space, there are no stars,” Donna points out and then asks, “Where are the stars?”

“We could be inside a dust cloud or a mavity well, or—” The Doctor pauses suddenly as he reads the screen to his right, “Oh.”

“What?” Donna asks with concern in her voice, and the Doctor shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. The ship is lost. It fell through a wormhole.”

“Ending up where?” Donna inquires, and you frown as you try to translate the rest of the symbols. The Doctor sighs, “I’m sorry, Donna. The TARDIS was out of control. It’s taken us…”

“To the edge of the universe,” you say, finishing the Doctor’s sentence. The drone moves away, and Donna takes a step forward toward the glass, where a void of pitch black is on the other side.

“So, what’s out there?” Donna asks with a subtle shift in her tone, a little scared. The Doctor taps your hip to stand, which you do, and the two of you follow Donna to look at the view of the edge. The Doctor removes his glasses and pockets them as he begins to say, “Well, that’s difficult… for you because if the universe is everything, then the concept of everything having an edge is, mmm, kind of impossible. But that’s the language of 21st-century Earth, and you don’t know anything yet.” The Doctor pauses and adds, “Not being rude. You just don’t. When you discover Camboolian Flat Mathematics, you’ll discover it’s possible.”

“What?” Donna asks softly, and the Doctor replies, “That. The nothing. At the edge of creation. Absolute nothingness.”

Donna then says, “But starlight travels. You can stand in my garden and look at the light from stars a billion miles away. So, where’s the light?”

You nod to the corner and say, “Over there. It just hasn’t reached us yet.” You then point and explain, “If we flew in that direction, it would take a hundred trillion years to reach your house.”

You see Donna’s eyes glaze over and water, “That’s my family. Over there.”

The Doctor comments, “I’ve never been this far out.” He then places a hand on the glass, “To stand here like this.” He begins to softly say, “Physically. Unprotected. Right on the edge.” He then places his other hand on the glass and leans forward to observe the empty void. Absent of stars and light. He continues, “No one ever has. Not ever. Till us. And this ship.”

“And an airlock that opened three years ago. And closed,” Donna says, and the Doctor pushes himself off the glass and inhales, “Yeah.”

Suddenly, a loud metal clang reverberates throughout the ship, causing the three of you to whip your heads around to see the source of the noise. You rush out of the pilot’s room, and the door slides up and opens, revealing nothing.

“Must’ve been just settling,” the Doctor says, and Donna looks around skeptically, “You said no signs of life. Are you absolutely certain?”

“Coliss.”

The deep automated voice echoes, and you watch as the hexagonal panels and large pillars begin to flip and switch, clicking and clattering before coming to a stop.

“It said fenslaw and coliss. Like a list. Or a solicitors. Or a countdown. Or instructions.”

“Or a warning,” Donna adds.

The Doctor’s brows furrow, and he puffs out his cheeks. “Slow warning,” he says as he turns around back inside the pilot’s area with you two following him.

“I think this way,” the Doctor says, spinning to the far right end of the room before entering a different section and saying happily, “Yes! Base plate repetition filaments.” He pats both of the drawers that glow a bright orange before pulling a drawer while letting out a small gasp, “Huh.”

He then pulls one of the filaments out, and it creates a squelching sound as he does, vocalizing, “If we move one up…” It drips out goo as he inspects it, and Donna asks, “Is that stuff dangerous?”

“No. I don’t think so,” the Doctor says. He moves to sniff it before sticking his tongue out on the filament, licking the goo, and you and Donna make gagging noises as you groan in disgust.

Then the Doctor shakes his head, “No.”

As he goes to put the filament back, he begins to gag and groan, clutching on your arm and you and Donna begin to panic. “Doctor! What—” You begin to say but then he suddenly stops and stands straight, “No.”

You and Donna whack him on the arm in annoyance with his little joke. He pulls the top drawer and, placing the filament on top, he says, “Clip it into the fold back. Can you do that? Take all the rectangles, move them up there.” The Doctor asks Donna, and she replies, “What does that do?”

The Doctor then explains, “The ship's on neutral for some reason. It’s just idling. We need to get it back on full power.”

He then grabs your hand and begins to drag you away from the room, and Donna calls out, “Well, don’t leave me on my own.” The Doctor spins around with you in his grip as he says, “Donna, there is no one else on board this ship.”

Donna retorts with, “Hostile action, remember?”

As if on cue, a metal clang thumps and creates an echo throughout the room, and Donna asks, “And what’s that?”

The Doctor shakes his head, “A noise.” Donna scrunches her face as she sarcastically replies, “Oh, well, you’re very helpful.”

The Doctor takes a step back with you, and Donna says, “Go on then. And hurry back. You little streak!”

“I need to find the spindle. That’s not like wool. It’s a water pivot.” The Doctor says, and you look back at the Captain’s chair. You tell him, “I’ll try and see if I can access any of the logs.”

The Doctor nods, and you walk off to sit in the pilot’s seat. You hear the Doctor exclaim at the end of the hallway, “That’s it! Can you still hear me?”

You hear Donna yell out, “No,” as you let out a little hum of acknowledgment.

“Good. Good. Won’t be long.” The Doctor says from the spindle room, and you tap the monitor, trying to understand each symbol to see if you can find out what happened during all those years this ship was lost.

You exhale in frustration, conceding defeat in your attempt to access the logs. Slouching back into the chair, you cross your arms, and a visible puff of warm air escapes your mouth with each breath. A slight shiver courses through you, prompting a tighter embrace of your own body, as you curl into a small ball. Surveying the vast empty void at the edge of the universe, there's a profound absence of light, sound, or anything discernible.

Donna enters your field of vision, and you inquire, "You alright? It suddenly got colder." She responds with a nonchalant, "Yeah, 'm fine."

"Already done with the filaments?" you ask incredulously, and Donna hums in affirmation, "Yeah."

Raising your eyebrows, you nod, "Alright then." Donna moves to stand with her back to you, gazing into the abyss. After a brief silence, she asks with a tone void of emotion, "Did you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?" you seek clarification.

"Running away with the Doctor?" She clarifies, and you lean your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you hum in contemplation. Eventually, you settle on, "I did, sometimes... The thrill, the chase, all the excitement... because I often thought to myself, 'What would I give for another run with the Doctor?' or even just to catch a glimpse of him. Then as the years went on when I..." You release a deep breath before continuing, "I realized I didn't miss any of that... I just... I missed him."

"But I couldn't... even the thought of my desires versus the entire universe collapsing. I just— I never thought I would ever see him again." You say and Donna lets you continue, “Now he’s back and… it all feels so surreal. And I fear that there’s going to be a price to pay.”

"My arms are too long," Donna suddenly declares, and you frown, "I don't think so."

"No, seriously, look!" Donna insists, and you divert your gaze from the ceiling to see her facing you. Your eyes widen as her arms appear unusually long and huge in front of you. You jump out of your seat, taking a step back, "What—"

"Star! Star, are you there?" you hear the Doctor call from behind you, and you shout, "Yeah! What about Donna? Is she there?"

Turning around, you rush to the middle of the room to find the Doctor. Donna does the same, and you both clutch each other as you watch the three duplicates move toward you. Fear laces Donna's voice as she asks, "What are they?"

“They’re us,” the Doctor says, and Donna denies it, not wanting to believe as she says, “They’re not us.”

You watch as your clones walk into the room. The Doctor's double says with zero emotion, “The notion of shape is strange.”

Your doppelganger remarks, “It limits. It is limiting.” As it waddles from the other room where Donna once was, a consuming fear sets in. “It limits. Limits everything,” you hear the Donna clone say as it walks forward. The Doctor tries the friendly approach, “Whatever shape you want to take, that’s fine. You can do whatever you want. I just want to say it’s very nice to meet you. I’m the Doctor, this is the Stargazer, and this is Donna.”

Donna chimes in, “So are they.”

As the unknown creatures move a step closer, you three take a step back to the door that leads out to the corridor. The Doctor raises his voice, “If you can just get those bodies to calm down, we can talk. That’ll be nice, don’t you think?”

“They’re looking at us like food,” Donna says, and the fake Doctor says, “Food is interesting. Because once I sort out the arms…” You watch as it stretches back to a normal size, and then it continues, “then I have a problem with the jaw.” The creature-like-Doctor’s jaw stretches down to the floor, and the three of you are wide-eyed in shock, confusion, and fear before it clicks back into place.

“It’s the knees. How many knees?” The other-Donna asks, and your non-Doctor replies, “Two.”

“Two in total, or two in each leg?” The non-Donna asks, and you hear the sound of cracking as it adjusts its knees.

The three of you take a few steps back, and the door behind you opens. The Doctor asks, “Where did you come from? You’re not part of the ship, are you? Did you come from outside?”

“We came from the nothing,” your doppelganger says as it twitches and resets her wrists while stepping forward. “We are No-things,” the Not-Doctor says, and the Not-Donna adds, “But you. You are not nothing.”

The Doctor replies, “Oh, I think you’ll find we’re quite something.” The three of you hastily jump into the transport cart, the Doctor seizing the driver's seat while you and Donna squeeze into the passenger seat as the No-Things pursue you.

Then, a menacing growl echoes from behind. You and Donna glance back to witness the No-Things crawling on all fours, steadily growing larger. Donna exclaims, “Oh, my God, they’re growing!”

“Come on!” The Doctor urges, stepping on the gas and shifting gears. Donna raises her voice, “Go faster!”

“I know!” The Doctor responds, and you feel a slight tug on the back of the cart. Turning around, you see the Not-Doctor gripping it as he crawls. You and Donna grab tools from the back as the redhead declares, “No, you don’t!”

You two start to strike the Not-Doctor's hand, and your Doctor announces, “I can’t control it!”

“You stupid big hand!” Donna yells out in anger, and it eventually releases its grip on the cart, flinging you and Donna forward. The Doctor shouts, “No, no, no, no, no, no!” The cart crashes into a hydraulic pillar but manages to regain control, only for the Not-Donna to throw its hand at the side of the cart, causing you to spin out of control.

The Doctor rips out the steering wheel, and Donna screams as the spinning comes to a halt. You watch as the three No-Things expand and become entangled in each other’s limbs, hissing and growling at you three. The engine sputters as you sit there in shock. Donna then asks uncertainly, “What are they?”

Exiting the vehicle, the cart's frame falls apart, causing a loud clatter. You turn around to see the Doctor approaching the chaotic mess in front of you, and you groan, “Oh, no, don’t!”

“We’ve got to see,” the Doctor says, walking a little forward. The metal groans under the weight of the twisted limbs and squished faces. The Doctor mumbles, “It’s strange enough my face coming back, but not this big.”

“The airlock door three years ago. That’s when they got in,” Donna states with a nod, and the Doctor adds, “No-things. No control of shape. No concept of shape or size.”

“How can they get bigger? ‘Cause you only get a certain amount of mass, don’t you? Shaun used to complain about that watching Venom films. He said, ‘Where’s the extra mass come from?’”

You then recall the chill you felt as you sat in the pilot’s chair, pointing out, “It got colder.”

Donna agrees, nodding as she announces, “Oh, yeah, it got colder for me.”

Glancing back at the No-things, you conclude, “Heat into mass.”

The Doctor builds on that, saying rapidly, “But they’re not just physical copies. They’ve got our thoughts, too. That other Star, she mentioned Gallifrey and Mars.”

“The other Stargazer said, ‘Wilf’,” Donna remembers, pointing to your copy.

“The Not-Donna asked me if I missed all the adventures with the Doctor,” you add with disbelief.

“So they’ve got our memories,” the Doctor concludes, and Donna shudders, “Okay. So they’re copies with memories and mass, but what I don’t get is why do they hate us?”

Suddenly, one of the hands drops onto the metal floor, causing a loud thump, and the three of you jump back, letting out yelps. Donna looks at it with a concerned tone as she says, “That’s my hand.”

The metal begins to creak, and you look around as the Doctor points out, “They’re getting free. We should reason with them. Try to make peace. Welcome them to our side of the universe.”

The No-things roar in anger and disgust, and you flinch. The Doctor takes a step back and remarks, “Maybe later.”

As the three of you turn to run, the Doctor points out the three hexagon panels with steps on them, exclaiming, “I know, I know. Ladder. Do you think? Maybe up there?” You see a small exit hexagon, and Donna shrugs, “Let’s go!”

The Doctor climbs first, leading the way as you and Donna follow him up. But you hear the familiar automated voice resonate throughout the speakers of the ship, “Brate.”

The Doctor groans, “Oh, not now!” The triangle panels begin to flip, and you feel each hexagon shape slide opposite sides. You hear Donna exclaim, “Doctor! Star!”

“It’s okay. I’m right here!” the Doctor says right before the panel flips inwards, and he’s out of view. You watch as Donna slides down from the ladder and into a different area of the ship. Your hexagon moves upwards and flips inwards, flinging you into the interior of the spacecraft. You let out a yelp as you land on your bum, and suddenly the three of you are separated.

Fatigue etches lines of frustration across your face as you wearily rub your eyes with both hands. With a sigh, you push yourself upright, casting a glance down the dimly lit corridor. The soft hum of glowing pipelines provides the only illumination as you traverse the hallway, the occasional hiss of escaping air and steam accompanying your footsteps. Abruptly, a door slams shut behind you, prompting a swift turn of your head. Shaking off the interruption, you continue walking forward in the eerie silence of the spaceship's metallic passageway.

You discover a ladder and descend, the metallic clangs echoing in the confined space. Moving forward, the whirring of systems shutting down and rebooting accompanies your steps. The flickering lights above cast erratic shadows, and as you exhale, your breath materializes in the cold atmosphere.

Finally, you reach a door, stepping out just as the Doctor emerges simultaneously. A moment of uncertainty hangs between you two.

You cautiously take a step back, asking, “Are you—”

The Doctor interjects, “Is it—” A shared pause ensues, and you murmur, “But it got cold.”

“I know I’m me,” you assert with narrowed eyes, and the Doctor affirms, “Well, so am I.”

Frustration flickers across your face as you lick your lips. The Doctor initiates, “Tell me, how did we meet?”

“When?” you inquire.

“The first time we met, how did we meet?” the Doctor specifies.

"At the Academy. What was the color of the sky back on Gallifrey?" you respond, then throw a question back at him.

“Orange sky and trees with silver leaves. That reflected the morning sunlight, making it look like the forests were on fire. You and I would have picnics outside of the Capitol when we didn’t want to show up for class… your eyes would shine like starlight, and I… I knew then that I loved you.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and your bottom lip trembles as you say, “You didn’t say it then.”

“I can say it now,” the Doctor pleads.

You purse your lips, feeling a wavering resolve, and shake your head, “You also hated me back then.” The Doctor shakes his head, attempting to step forward, but you take two steps back, edging closer to the door. “After what I had done. When you found out who I was and where I came from. A rift in time. A supposed observer who interfered with fixed points in time when I had to save everyone. I had to save… you.”

The Doctor begins, “You and I both know it wasn’t your fault. After the Rift, the Time War, and Mars…”

You shake your head, swallowing down your guilt as you take in the way he looks at you. It wasn't him, but the weight of the past bears down on you. Another step back, and this time the Not-Doctor grimaces and says mockingly, “You and your sad backstory. ‘Oh, woe is me! I started an entire war! I altered a fixed point in time! Boo hoo! I should have died.’ Blah, blah, blah. No wonder the Doctor left you on Earth! You are annoying to be with. And you are right about one thing, you should have died! Why didn’t you die? Hmm?”

Gritting your teeth, you head out the door and slam the button shut, running down the corridor. The echoes of harsh words linger in the cold metallic passage. Exhausted, you eventually stop to catch your breath. Sliding down one of the walls, you can't contain the streams of tears flowing down your cheeks. Quiet sobs escape, and you cup your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle the sound, the weight of emotions overwhelming you in the dimly lit corridor.

Taking a deep breath, you try to settle yourself down, a skill you've honed over years of navigating the guilt within. You've learned not to be ashamed of your survival. You did what you had to do, continuously clawing your way out of the ache, cutting through the pain to the bone. It was never going to be pretty, but deep down, you know it will always be worth it.

You bury your head in between your curled-up knees, seeking solace as you take another breath and sniffle. Suddenly, loud banging echoes from a few meters down the hall, and amidst the clamor, you recognize the voice shouting. The Doctor's frustration is palpable as the grunting and banging continue. You remain still, waiting in the silence that follows. When the noise subsides, the Doctor notices you. He comes to a stop, and as he meets your tear-stained gaze and red-rimmed eyes, you say nothing.

Anger seems to cloud the Doctor's expression, evidence of the harsh words exchanged with the Not-You or Not-Donna. Yet, his demeanor softens as he kneels to your level, whispering, "Is it you?"

Weakly, you mumble, "I think you know."

He draws you close, his arms enveloping you, and his warmth provides a comforting embrace. Placing your head on his chest, you admit, "I should have known the it was the Not-Doctor I was speaking to, but I—"

The Doctor shushes you, planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head. "I was tricked too. I'm here now, love. Wasn't your fault." Gently rocking the both of you back and forth, he eventually stands up, offering a hand for you to take and pull yourself up. Moving through the hallway, this time, he doesn't let go.

“Gilvane.”

You find another door, and upon entering, you are met with the peculiar sight of your doppelgangers and potentially the real Donna. As you and the Doctor survey the two sets of clones – one set of you and the other Donna not holding hands – the two Donnas exchange uncertain glances. One Donna breaks the tension with a comment, "I’ve gotta say, this is the biggest nightmare of my life, but… I look quite good."

"I can’t argue," the other Donna adds. The Not-Doctor then points at your Doctor, demanding, “I want to talk to you. You Not-Doctor. I know you’re a fake. I know for a fact. So I want to know why you’re doing this.”

Your Doctor frowns, “That’s what I was gonna say!”

“You should have been faster. ‘Cause that’s me, isn’t it. Fast. Am I fast? Do I talk fast? Yes.” The Not-Doctor rattles off rapidly. Your Doctor retorts, “But you’re a copy of me! You’re only fast because I am.”

“You seriously want to marry this one?” The Not-You asks, and you nonchalantly reply, “Of course you’d know. Spent almost my entire life with him, might as well.”

“Oh, well, I can’t follow any of this. And that is proof. ‘Cause let’s not pretend. I’m the stupid one,” the other Donna interjects, prompting the Doctor to squeeze your hand as he questions, “You think you’re stupid?”

The other Donna replies, “Of course I do.”

“That’s very Donna,” your Doctor says, and the Not-Doctor chimes in, “That’s so Donna. That’s my Donna.”

“Except Donna does not think she’s stupid,” you point out, and the two Donnas say, “Oh, but I do.”

You shake your head, “No. Donna thinks she’s stupid, and sometimes she thinks she’s brilliant. She thinks both. Because that’s the astonishing thing about people from her planet. They can believe two completely different things at exactly the same time.”

After a moment, Donna looks at the both of you with your intertwined hands, grinning, “Brainbox and Stargirl!”

“Earthgirl!” You and the Doctor say in unison as the three of you reunite, sharing a group hug. Suddenly, the sound of cracking fills the air as the No-things begin to stretch. The Doctor swiftly whips out a salt shaker, exclaiming, “But salt! You can’t cross salt. In our universe, it is said that vampires, demons, and ghosts cannot cross a single line of salt until they’ve counted every single grain.” He starts drawing a line of salt in front of you before lifting the shaker up, “You’ve got no choice!”

“But that’s a superstition,” the Not-Doctor says, and your doppelganger adds, “Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“It’s a superstition, and it’s true. Two things at once,” the Doctor asserts, and the Not-Doctor attempts to call him out, “You’re lying.”

Challenging him, the Doctor exclaims, “Then walk towards me. Come on. Stop copying and make your own minds up. Cross the line!”

The Not-Donna glances at your Donna and says, “She doesn’t believe him.”

“But you said I’m stupid,” Donna points out, to which the Not-Donna retorts, “And also brilliant.”

Your Donna sneers at her copy, “Then which one is it, Donna? Cross the line. Or count.”

As if the Not-Donna couldn’t help herself, like an impulse, she gets on her knees and begins to count each grain of salt, mumbling numbers as she does. Now all that stands is the Not-Doctor and the Not-Stargazer who stands there staring at the three of you.

“So tell me. What do you want?” The Doctor asks, to which the Not-Doctor responds, “You tell us.”

“It didn’t get cold this time.” You point out, and Donna agrees, “No, it didn’t, did it?”

“Which means you’re acclimatizing. Your arms are a bit too long. Your mouths are a bit too wide. But are you stabilizing?” The Doctor inquires, and Donna adds, “Like they’re becoming us properly.”

“I just wonder why.” Your Doctor says aloud, and the Not-Stargazer singsongs, “Why?”

Donna realizes something as she says, “Because the TARDIS will come back for us. They know that. So if they become completely us, the TARDIS will come back for them.”

“Is that what you want? Escape?” The Doctor asks with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly the tone of the Not-Doctor shifts and explains, “We drifted here. In the lack of light. Passing no-time.”

Your copy continues, “But we would feel it. From so far away. Your noisy, boiling universe.”

“We want to travel there. To play your vicious games and win.” The Not-Doctor says with a grave tone.

You frown as you say, “If you existed here with no shape, no form, no purpose, then what’s made you so bad?”

The Not-Stargazer replied with eyes devoid of emotion, “The things we felt, they shaped us. Carrying across the dark. We could hear your lives of war. And blood and fury and hate. They made us like this.”

“We are more than that.” Donna spits out, and the Not-Donna says, “Love letters don’t travel very far. And neither do your lies.” She then blows the line of salt away, and you three step backward as your clones begin to have sharp teeth as they hiss and growl at you.

You feel your back against the wall, and suddenly the automated voice can be heard once more, “Stond.”

The lights flicker as the panel behind you begins to flip you three around, clicking and clattering, and Donna remarks, “That’s lucky.”

But the panel flips you back to where you were, and Donna whispers, “Or not.”

“Run?” The Doctor asks, and you and Donna agree, “Run!”

You sprint through the corridor, timing it perfectly as one of the doors manages to stall them before you re-enter the captain's area. The Doctor gestures a hand and says, “Come on!”

After pressing a few switches, a glass panel slides down from above, dividing you three from the No-things. As they stare at you three, Donna asks, “Why? I don’t understand why. What are they scaring us for?”

“Problem is, ten minutes ago they’d have ripped that door off its hinges. Now they’re just standing there. Locking into shape. Almost complete,” the Doctor comments, and Donna presses, “Yes, but if you just listen to my question, thank you very much. Why are they making us so scared? If they wanna copy us, why don’t they just sit in a corner and do it? Why terrorize us?”

The Doctor’s face lights up and says, “That’s a very good question.”

“Yes. I’m brilliant.” Donna says while bouncing on her tip toes.

“Why provoke us? Unless… that’s how it’s done. The more scared we are, the more blood pumps. Hypothalamus. Adrenaline. We think faster and faster and faster.” The Doctor says as the pieces begin to click.

“It makes us easy to copy.” You remark, and the Doctor takes a step towards the glass as he says, “Goosebumps, like braille. You’re reading us. Is that right?”

“Well, what do we do? How do we stop ‘em? Stop being scared?” Donna asks urgently, and the Doctor says, “Like the ship all ticking over in neutral. Donna, stop thinking.”

Donna laughs nervously, “Well, that’s easy for me. What about you two?”

You look at the Doctor as you pull your lips to the side, “Took up meditation for a bit, so the only one with that problem is him.”

The Doctor takes a deep breath and says, “Just calm. Just cool.”

“Yeah, I’m calm.” Donna says with a deep inhale, and the Doctor comments, “Even calmer.”

“Well, you do it too.” Donna says, and the Doctor exclaims back, “I am!”

Donna grits her teeth, “Mmm. Stop rattling me!”

“Will you two just shut up!” You say.

The Doctor softly says, “Slow. Slow heartbeat. If we’re slow, they can’t read us.”

“Okay.” Donna says, and the Doctor replies, “Good. Shhh.”

After a few moments of complete silence, Donna asks, “For how long?” And the Doctor replies, “Uh, there’s a flaw in the plan.”

The Not-Doctor decides to bait him by asking, “How can you not think on a ship full of questions? Why the empty chair?”

Not-Stargazer adds on and asks, “Why do the walls keep moving?”

Not-Doctor asks, “What are the words in the air?”

Not-Donna asks again, “Why did the airlock open and close three years ago?”

You and Donna say simultaneously, “Don’t.”

Your Doctor begins to protest, “But—”

Both of you are firm as you say, “Don’t. Stop it.”

Then a sudden loud metal clang rings out once more, and the Not-Doctor asks, “And what is that?”

“Doctor, stop thinking.” You warn but eventually the Doctor relents and groans as he says, “Let me think. Let me think.”

The No-things begin to chant creepily, “Think! Think! Think! Think!”

The Doctor moves to a few switches and buttons on the wall and begins to press and pull each of them as he says, “What is making that noise?”

The rooftop panel whirs as it slides open, revealing a glass roof, and the three of you look up, and the Doctor says, “There.”

You watch as a creature in a spacesuit floats in space with no helmet, the skull of what once was. You frown, and the metal hook clangs as it thumps against the glass. “The Captain of the ship.” You say somberly, and the Doctor adds, “Circling round and round forever. Caught in the gravity field.”

“Caught in the what?” Donna asks, and you quickly clarify, “Mavity field.”

“But why? Did they throw him out? Her out. Them out.” Donna says with a breathy voice, and the Doctor says, “Her. I wonder. Why is the captain outside? Why is she in a spacesuit with no helmet?” He turns around to face the No-things and catches their expressions, he says, “And why don’t you know?”

The Doctor moves closer to the glass as he looks at the Not-Doctor; he growls as he says, “I know that face. I know my expressions very, very well, and you don’t know. The captain did something you don’t understand, but what?” The No-things begin to say, “Tell us! Tell us! What did she do? What did the Captain do? What did she do?”

You move to stand next to the Doctor as he says, “They don’t know. They really don’t know. The questions aren’t a test. They need the answers. We’re all stuck in a system because of the Captain.” He groans as he jumps up and asks, “What did she do?”

Donna shakes her head and points out, “Well, if they want the answers, don’t tell ‘em!”

“You know what my head’s like, Donna, once I start having ideas.” The Doctor explains, and the Not-Doctor interjects, “Then I have ideas. So the captain…” Not-Donna looks at him and finishes, “Tried to stop us. But how?”

“Wait a minute.” Donna begins, “If they don’t know why the Captain’s outside… The airlock door three years ago wasn’t them coming in. That was her going out. She killed herself.”

“But what for?” The No-things ask in unison from behind the glass.

The Not-Doctor says, “She hid her thoughts.” And the Not-Stargazer explains, “So we couldn’t see.”

You watch as the Doctor’s expression turns to understanding, the final bits of information making sense in his head. His mouth opens in a silent gasp as he exclaims loudly, “Maximised automatic brain function! Oh! Well done, Captain. Because she knew. Even with a lost ship, if you were found one day, if you three ever reached the universe, you’d run riot across the stars!”

Your eyes widen in realization, adding, “And you were already becoming copies of the captain. You’d have owned this spaceship. If you’d copied her perfectly, you could’ve flown the ship home and started your war!”

The Doctor points out, “So, she ended her life to hide whatever it is she left behind. Because when she died, you hadn’t completed her. So you lost everything she knew. Gone.”

The lights flicker as clicking and clattering sound throughout the ship, and Donna asks, “What is that?”

The Doctor runs around animatedly, beginning to explain, “That captain, calm as a Zen master, set in motion to stop those three. And she took her own life so they couldn’t work out what she’d done.”

The Not-Doctor grins, “But you’re working it out right now.”

The Doctor shakes his head as he denies it, “No, I’m not. Mm-mmm.”

The Not-Stargazer smiles as she tilts her head, “Yes, you are, and so is she. Therefore, so am I.”

You bite your lip and try to calm your racing thoughts, standing next to Donna for support. Then you hear the Not-Doctor begin to say, “It’s all about slow. We don’t understand the slow, so the captain set out to slowly stop us. So the ship is slow. The robot is slow. The words are slow. Is that it?”

You see the Doctor holding it in as he bounces out the energy, and he shakes his head, “Nope.”

The Not-Doctor continues, “The words move the walls, so the ship is slowly reconfiguring to become a very slow…” The Doctor finishes the sentence for everyone, “Bomb.”

“What?” Donna asks with a high-pitched tone, and the Not-Doctor explains rapidly, “The captain set the self-destruct slowly so the words are a very slow… countdown.”

The Doctor groans out in frustration as he throws his arms up in the air, “I said so! I said countdown straight away! It’s that simple.” He sighs, “I translated the numbers. I’d never heard them out loud! ‘Fenslaw, coliss, brate,’ means ten, nine, eight.”

The Not-Doctor turns to the Not-Donna and says, “The robot.” The three of them move to the door that leads to the long hallway, and as it opens, the Doctor flicks a switch to lock it.

The Not-Doctor glares at you, “We’re as clever as you now. That robot won’t stop us!” It begins to flick a few buttons and switches by the nearby control panel next to the door. You and the Doctor move about the area, flicking switches to try to override the system they were trying to break.

Donna quickly asks you two, “So, what’s the robot?” And you reply, “The robot is the trigger. A primitive mechanical brain that those two couldn’t read, taking three long years to walk a very long corridor with one slow instruction.”

“Kaboom.” The Doctor finishes as he twists a few knobs before pressing a button, and Donna says, “Countdown. What number are we on?”

“Ratico. That’s five.” The Doctor says as he slams his palm on the button, closing the door once more, “It’s been counting down for years, but the TARDIS brought us here just in time for the final sequence! We can’t let them reach that robot. There’s only one way we can stop them.”

You move about to flick a few more switches and rapidly slam your palm against a few more buttons as the Not-Doctor, Not-Donna, and Not-Stargazer begin to rip out different wires. “What’s that?” Donna asks, and you hear the Doctor say, “I’m sorry, Donna. But the countdown needs to speed up.” The Doctor then slams his palm on the button, and an alarm begins to sound along with the automatic voice, “Vandeen.”

Donna begins to panic as she yelps, “That’s number four!”

“We know!” You and the Doctor say, and Donna shrieks, “But we’re still on board!” To which you both reply in unison once more, “We know!”

But then the No-things manage to get the door open, you hear the Not-Doctor say, “Stop that robot!” To which your Doctor says as he presses a button that lifts the glass divider, “Don’t stop that robot!”

“Could the robot just wait!” Donna says as she runs after both of you.

“Blinss.”

“That’s three!” Donna says as she pushes her legs faster to try and catch up to you. Suddenly, the Not-Stargazer turns around and hisses at the Doctor, throwing herself on him to try to stop him, but he shoves her aside only for her to attack you.

Donna slows down a moment as you wrestle with your double, and you yell to Donna, “Keep going!” The redhead nods and keeps running, following the Doctor. You manage to get the upper hand as you maneuver your weight and lock your knees to her waist, saying, “For some odd reason, this is going to be theraputic.”

You smack her across the face, tumbling off the No-thing, and proceed to run after the Doctor and Donna.

“Sensill.”

“That’s two!” Donna announces from in front of you as you feel your lungs expand and deflate while running after them. But then, you're taken down by the Not-Stargazer from behind, and you shout out in pain as you roll on the floor with her.

As you wrestle yourself to the ground, you hear the TARDIS whizzing as it floats down, playing the song Wild Blue Yonder. The lyrics and the music echo, “Off we go into the wild blue yonder. Climbing high into the sun.”

The Doctor snatches his sonic screwdriver from the keyhole and steps into the TARDIS with Donna climbing inside, pushing it forward with his foot like a scooter towards you and your double. As the Doctor and the TARDIS are in front of you, you hear the automated voice echo, “One.”

The Doctor's voice reverberates, urgent and probing, “What was my nickname at the Academy?”

“Theta Sigma.” The simultaneous reply from both you and the Not-Stargazer hangs in the air. The Doctor scrutinizes both of you, his keen eyes flickering between your faces. His next question pierces the tension, “What happened on Trenzalore?”

“Nine hundred years of battle and that’s where you were buried,” The Not-Stargazer asserts confidently, a sense of triumph coloring her words. However, your gaze remains distant, memories of Trenzalore flooding your mind, and you avert your eyes from the Doctor's penetrating gaze. He swiftly ushers you into the TARDIS, slamming the door shut.

As the flames engulf the three No-things, their screams echo in the air. The TARDIS whooshes away, leaving behind the burning remnants. The three of you huddle on the floor inside the time machine, wrapped in a comforting embrace.

THE TARDIS — SPACE

After the intense ordeal with the No-things, a collective decision is made to refresh and rejuvenate. In the soothing confines of the TARDIS, you find a moment to cleanse yourself from the recent events. The warm water cascades over you in the shower, washing away the remnants of the unsettling encounter. Drying your hair, you change into a fresh set of clothes, embracing the renewal that accompanies the change.

Exiting the room, you traverse the winding corridors of the TARDIS, making your way to the control room. The Doctor, having already cleaned himself up, is engrossed in the myriad buttons and switches that adorn the console. As you approach, he turns, a warm smile gracing his features, “Hello, love.”

With a hum, you encircle your arms around his waist, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around you. A tender exchange of glances unfolds as you gaze up at him. Offering a small smile, you inquire, “How did you know it was me?”

“You could never bring yourself to talk about what happened that day. Not once after that, you never mentioned it again,” he replies. Pressing your forehead against his chest, you take a deep breath, absorbing his freshly cleaned scent.

“I know you were the one who saved me and brought me to Earth after the Time War,” you admit. He furrows his brow, “How did you figure that out?”

Sighing, you recount, “The No-thing appeared as you when we got separated and said some really hurtful things... but he also mentioned you were the one who brought me to Earth. You saved me. All those years ago…”

The Doctor exhales before planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head, “You saved me. It was only fair.”

“I love you,” you declare, feeling his smile against your forehead. “I love you too.”

"She'd almost completed you," the Doctor shared, his gaze fixed on Donna as she joined them at the console. "The other Donna was a 99.9% copy. Except I thought, 'What's wrong?' Turned out her wrist had an extra 0.06 millimeters. Obvious, really."

Donna, hands resting on the controls while you expertly pilot the TARDIS, quipped, "The devil's in the details," and the Doctor agreed with a nod, "Yeah, isn't it just?"

After a brief pause, he mused, "Oh, I keep thinking, 'I wish I hadn't done that thing with the salt.'"

Donna shook her head, dismissing it, "What, the bad luck thing? That was just a lie."

"Normally. Except I invoked a superstition at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and all things are possible," the Doctor explained with a slightly shaken tone. "I just got this feeling."

“What?” Donna inquired, and the Doctor, after a momentary space-out, shook it off, saying, “Which is gone. Fine. Good. Onwards.”

The Doctor moved to pilot alongside you, adjusting knobs as he continued, “So anyway. I was wondering, she said on the spaceship— That other Donna had your memory. She could remember us as the DoctorDonna. So she could see my life and my mind and my thoughts for the past fifteen years. All the time we’ve been apart, she could remember it. Can you?”

Donna blinked, contemplating, and replied, “No. It’s too much. It’s like looking into a furnace. But I suppose she had a great, big, outer-space brain. She could make sense of it.”

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully, “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Why?” Donna probed, and the Doctor mumbled, “Just wondering.”

“What did she see?” Donna persisted, and the Doctor, puffing out his cheeks, evasively said, “Ooh. Things.”

“Like what?”

The Doctor remained silent, prompting Donna to push further, “Come on. Where have you been since I last saw you? What’s happened?” Attempting to shrug it off, he nonchalantly said, “Oh, you know, the usual. Robots, chases, waterfalls.”

Donna mockingly nodded, “Oh, okay,” before giving him a scrutinizing look and asking, “But what really happened?”

The Doctor's expression turned sad and tired as he admitted, “A lot.”

Donna nodded in understanding, then turned to her friend and asked, “You okay?”

The Doctor, opting for candor, grasps your hand, affirming, “I will be.”

“When?” Donna inquires, tilting her head, and the Doctor responds, “A million years.”

The TARDIS emits a pleasant ding, signifying your arrival as it materializes. The Doctor, wearing a contented smile, notes, “Ah. There we are, back home.”

Donna strides towards the TARDIS doors, commenting, “You timed that to get out of awkward conversations.” She then rushes down the bridge, calling out, “Where are they? Where’s the family?”

As you prepare to step out, the Doctor playfully pulls you back, encircling your waist with his arms, prompting a delighted squeal, “Doctor!”

“Wait, I have a present for you,” he announces, positioning you by the console. With a gentle push, a concealed compartment reveals a new sonic screwdriver—silver and gold with an ergonomically designed handle. Overwhelmed with excitement, you bounce up and down, unable to contain your joy. Seizing the Doctor's face, you plant a passionate kiss on his lips, and in that moment, the Doctor melts into the warmth of the affectionate embrace.

“My own sonic screwdriver. Thank you.” You say to him as he gives you a grin, “Consider it as a wedding present.”

You lightly smack his chest and say, “I expect a proper proposal, Doctor.”

He kisses your cheek, “Of, course dear.”

CAMDEN MARKET, LONDON — MORNING, 2023

Intertwining your hands, you and the Doctor emerge from the TARDIS, greeted by Donna and Wilf. Donna beams triumphantly, exclaiming, “I said so!”

Wilf gasps, hand covering his mouth in shock, while the Doctor grins, “Wilfred Mott. Oh, now I feel better.” Wilfred erupts in delighted laughter as you and the Doctor approach him, enveloping him in a warm hug. The Doctor affirms, “Now, nothing is wrong. Nothing in the whole wide world.”

Stepping back, the Doctor smiles broadly, addressing Wilf, “Hello, my old soldier.”

“I never thought I’d see you two again after all these years. Oh, the Doctor, that lovely face. It’s like springtime,” Wilf chuckles, and the Doctor nods to Donna, remarking, “And Donna’s got her memory back.”

“Without dying, which I recommend,” Donna adds with a smile. However, you hear distant sirens, not giving them much thought. Wilf grins, “Yeah, well, I knew it. I never lost faith. I said, ‘He won’t let us down. He’ll come back and save us.’”

Both you and the Doctor frown, and he questions, “Save us from what?”

Donna asks anxiously, “And where’s the family? Where’s Rose? Are they all right?”

Wilf reassures Donna with animated gestures, “Yeah, they’re fine. They’re safe. I’ve told them to bunker down, and I’ll keep watch. I said, ‘You save yourselves.’”

Your eyebrows knit in concern as you ask, “Why? Is there something wrong?”

Right on cue, the food truck in the background erupts in flames, people shouting and screaming, chaos ensuing. More people join in the madness, hitting each other, and the Doctor queries, “What’s going on?”

The tumult intensifies, with people shouting and cursing, and Donna implores, “What is it? What’s happening?”

Wilf attempts to explain, “It’s everybody. It’s everything. They’re all going mad. Listen, you’ve got to do something, Doctor! The whole world’s coming to an end!”

As an airplane approaches, its engines emitting smoke, people scream and clamour. The plane crashes in the distance, prompting the Doctor to swiftly move Wilf's wheelchair to the front of the TARDIS, shouting, “Quickly!”

Taking cover, the four of you shield yourselves from the ensuing blast, and amidst the chaos, you can't help but wonder if the kiss was somehow connected to this impending disaster.

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r

[fuwbuki]

I FINALLY FINISHED MY BACHELORS WORK YAAAAY. Its basically a comic book and all of the artwork in it is done with linocut or drypoint. The whole book is 62 pages so i only included my favourite spreads. Excuse my horrible handwriting lol.

And you know i had to include Maxmilien and Saint-Just in the story somehow.

Voltaire is a main character in every story and through him reader learns how the 18 century changed regarding science, religion, philosophy and politics. The 3 chapters are beginning, middle, late 18. century. The story is always: "if he was 30+ yo in differnt time what he would be doing"?

The book also includes or mentions historical characters:

Ch. 1- Jean Antoine Nollet, Émilie du Châtelet, René-Antoine Réaumur, Edmund Halley, Isaac Newton, Louis XIV.

Ch. 2- Jean le Rond dAlembert, Denis Diderot, Louis XV.

Ch.3- Maxmilien Robespierre, Louis Antoine Saint-Just, Anton Lavoisier

[weixuldo]

Enigma// ch 26

anakin x reader

A/N: not much forward to this one! i hope you’re all still enjoying the story :) thanks for reading!?

You struggle with new news

warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, afab! reader, ani is a disabled veteran, topics of death

_____________________________

The stiff chairs of the lecture hall did little to alleviate the throbbing pain in your lower back; you watched the clock intently waiting for the professor to finally stop droning on. 

With everything that had been happening recently, it was easy to forget that you were still a college student. Most of your friends now were adults (save for one or two college friends);

Once it got out that there was a student on campus who got pregnant by a retired veteran in his late 30’s- it was pretty hard to keep friends.

Walking around campus with a large bump was bad enough, but all of the whispering and judgemental looks made you feel 100 times worse. 

But honestly, what did it really matter? 

You were happy, you loved him, and he loved you. 

Who the fuck was anyone else to take that from you?

It was the second week of September and the baby was due in only a month and a half! The date was set around halloween (perfect since you were a big halloween fanatic).

Maybe they would even be born on Halloween day!

Thankfully your lecture was almost over so you could head back for the night. As you watched the clock hand tick painfully slow, your phone buzzed in your bag. The familiar vibration brought a small smile to your face, it was Anakin. 

While your professor droned on about Newton's second law, you sneakily checked your phone. 

Ani <3: Hey Angel, you’re just coming home after class right?

You loved that he called his apartment home now- it made you feel so official (not that you werent, but it still made you happy). 

Yea! Lecture is almost over I’ll be back soon- What’s up?

Almost as fast as you sent it, the three bubbles popped up in the bottom left corner, that was fast. 

Ani <3: Alright, I just wanted to talk to you about something- Have a good rest of class and drive safely, I love you.

You smiled at his use of punctuation (another indicator of your generational gap).

Anakin was usually pretty direct, so you didn’t think anything of his text- he probably just wanted to talk about getting groceries or some other domestic task. Or maybe it was to get an opinion on the new shelf he was working on for the baby’s room. 

_________________________________

You entered the house and set down your bookbag with a sigh; you absolutely loved coming home to Anakin. 

The apartment had warmed up for the colder seasons so you discarded the fluffy sweater you had on, leaving you in a small olive green tank. Anakin wasn’t in the living room so you set out to find him. 

“Ani?” you called. 

“Hey Sweetheart” he called as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

You hurried to him and gave him a big hug; he wrapped his arms around you and sighed; his body relaxed in your presence. 

“How were classes?” he asked, stepping back and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“They were fine, I went ahead and let the professors know my last week would probably be next week, since the little one will be making an appearance soon” you smiled.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Anakin’s lips as he gazed upon your swollen belly.

He hummed before returning to the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge. 

“You said you wanted to talk about something?” you half asked- half reminded him. 

He froze for a moment before closing the fridge door; slowly, he turned towards you.

“Yea” is all he said. 

You tilted your head and motioned with your hand “and the topic is….?”

“Why don’t you sit on the couch Angel, you’ve been on your feet all day” he attempted to redirect; you knew him too well to fall for that. 

“I’m good, I just sat in a 90 minute lecture” you said, crossing your arms. 

“Yes, but those chair’s are not a comfy couch”.

Ok… 

He was making a good point. 

You threw your hands up in defeat while you walked over, “ya got me there!”.

Once you sat, you crossed your arm’s once again, “what’s going on baby?”.

He let out a shaky breath…not good. 

“Ani, what's wrong?” you asked again, brows furrowed. 

He seemed stressed as he sat down beside you on the couch; he was worrying you. His lips were drawn into a thin line and his blue eyes flickered between yours and his lap. 

“Sweetheart… I have some bad news” 

Your breath caught in your chest- did something happen? Is he ok?

“I-... the lab called and my tissue samples came back-“

“How long?” you interrupted. 

He met your gaze and he faltered as he observed the well of tears brimming in your beautiful eyes. His heart was breaking. 

“Angel…”

“Anakin. How long?” you said, sterner than before. 

Subconsciously your hands wrapped around your belly as if to shield your unborn child from the news. Anakin blinked down at the floor a few times before responding. 

“A few weeks”

You exhaled abruptly and choked back a sob; you knew he was on a timer but you didn’t realize how fast it was ticking. Your baby wasn’t due for more than “a few weeks”... would he even here for the birth? Would he even be alive?

How could you do this without him? How could you ever recover?- You were so consumed in your plentiful “what if” scenarios that you didn’t even realize your chest was heaving. 

Anakin placed a stiff hand on your back and the other on your thigh as he attempted to calm you down and coach your labored breaths. 

“It’s alright- you’re going to be alr-”

“Y-you don’t k-know t-that!” you choked out as you gripped onto his prosthetic knee joint. 

“Angel! c’mon, in. out. In. out. Breathe baby, please” he instructed. 

You attempted to follow his instructions as you placed a hand on your chest. 

In and out, up and down. 

Slowly but surely, your breathing began to regulate.

“It’s going to be ok,” he cooed.

He took your face in his hands and tenderly kissed your face before hugging your head close to his chest. 

“I’ve got you now-I’m here, you’re alright..”

_______________________________________

The following night was quiet except for the occasional sniffle you couldn’t contain. You were upset that he kept the news from you, but you understood why he did; you were upset that Anakin was so far down on the donor list, you were upset that the baby would probably grow up without a father, you were upset that you didn’t even get to your one year anniversary with the love of your life (ok, maybe that was a bit drastic- but to be fair, the two of you had gone through so much and it felt as if you had known him forever). 

You knew you would have to arrange some things in your life to cushion the blow- you needed to find a job, you needed to get a house of your own, you’d have to arrange help with the baby… Maker, would you have to drop out of college? 

The thought’s swam in your head as you blankly stared at the black tv screen.

You wanted to be productive and start making plans but you couldn’t seem to move from your spot… it was too hard to think about starting because that would mean he was really dying… it would mean he would truly be gone in a few weeks. 

Anakin sat on the other end of the couch, he was stiffly sitting with a glass of water in hand. He was yearning to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, but he knew that was selfish… 

It was selfish of him to tell you he was going to die and then smother you with his love. He couldn’t be too affectionate because that would just be cruel; to give you all his love and then vanish? That’s practically abandonment! 

He felt his left eye twitch.

But he also didn't want to leave you feeling as if you were unloved… he never wanted that.

He had to leave you with something.

The silence between you was not necessarily enjoyable, but it wasn’t completely terrible either. You stayed that way for another 30 minutes as both of you collected the rogue thoughts in your minds. 

Your gaze was cast down at the rug beneath your feet, the faded colors reminiscent of the years Anakin had spent walking to and from the couch. You felt one of his hands on you thigh and you managed a smile (though you were still looking at the rug). 

“Would you marry me?”

“What?” you turned your head towards him. 

He turned towards you with a serious look, “would you marry me?”.

“I-...Well, yes? Of course I would- but why?”

“Let's get married” he stated, before getting himself to his feet. 

“What?” you repeated.

“I know the news is untimely, but I planned on asking you soon anyways… I just want a chance to enjoy being your husband- a chance at a life that could have been.”

“Ani…”

“I mean it Angel,” he said, walking to the bedroom.

He came back out with a small velvet box and your eyes widened. 

“I was gonna ask you after the baby was born, but we both know why that probably wouldn’t work” he attempted to joke. 

“Y-you’re really serious? Like positive?” you asked, stunned as he walked back to the couch. 

This time he sat by your side instead of on the opposite side of the couch. 

He reached for your hands and smiled. His stiff grip made your heart flutter. 

“I promise, y/n. I mean it.” He kissed your forehead. 

You took the small box from his mechanical hand and slowly popped it open. The small golden ring was crested in an array of tiny diamonds with a larger one at the center; it wasn’t bulky, but it was definitely a statement. It was absolutely beautiful. This ring alone could probably pay for two years of your college tuition. 

“I-it’s absolutely perfect” you manage to say as you admire the ring.

“I also don’t want to leave you with nothing- at least this way you’ll get my retirement, the apartment- I’m sure I’ve got some valuable shit you can sell for some quick cash. And, maybe you’ll get health insurance and benefits from the military since you’ll be my wife- the baby’s medical bills could be covered” he over explained. 

Before he could continue, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Anakin, you aren’t leaving me with nothing. You’ve given me a child- our child. You have given me some of the best memories of my life. And you have shown me true unconditional love, I couldn’t ask for more.”

His gaze softened and he drew you into his broad chest. 

“Fuck… I love you so much”.

You wrapped an arm around his back, “I love you too”. 

You pull away to place your hands on his cheeks, “I want you to know I would have said yes, regardless of the “perks” - I have thought about being your wife countless times…”

His big blue eyes observed your lovely features before he leaned in for another kiss. 

“...I just wish we’d have longer to enjoy it”, you frowned. 

His smile faltered before he gently shook his head, “Don’t think about that right now Love, this is a happy occasion” .

You rested your forehead on his as your smile returned once more, “You’re right Ani, it is”.

***

a/n: just a reminder, anakin is emotionally stunted so like… his thinking abt not being able to get too close to u is obviously him not knowing how to cope with the news. Also… like hello?! wei actually being active on tumblr?!?! thanks for sticking around- i have a lot planned for this break

taglist : @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimone12 @fallinlovewithevil @sythe-skywalker

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 2: Employed By Criminals

I can’t stand waiting any longer. I’ve been in my new room for what seems like an hour and no one has come to give any further instructions. The time I took to settle in only lasted five minutes, considering all my possessions fit in a small suitcase. So, I decide now I will explore.

I peek through the keyhole and find the kitchen outside to be empty. After opening the door I stick my head out to survey again. Still empty. Where is everyone? The least I can do now is to prepare dinner. After scavenging the kitchen I find some vegetables and spices to work with. No meat, but I’m not going to make a fool of myself around looking for the meat cellar. After I’ve started boiling water and mixed in some herbs I begin to chop the vegetables.

“You’re back,” Finn states as he enters from another side door, looking at the pot with new-found interest. “What’s that?”

“Dinner. Oh, since I didn’t get a good chance to introduce myself, my name’s Verena. Just so you know. Your aunt hired me to be your tutor.”

Finn scrunches his face in dislike. “Ugh. That again? Aunt Polly knows I hate reading!”

“What do you enjoy instead?” I try to sound optimistic as I peel the carrots.

“I like math better, like the math Tommy does for the business. Reading’s too complicated.”

“Not necessarily. What have you read before?”

“The Wind In The Willows, Peter Rabbit, all that kids stuff.”

“Well then it seems to me that you just need to find content you enjoy. Fiction may not be your choice, but you might like books of science, philosophy, or social issues. Have you heard of the Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy by Isaac Newton, or Relativity: The Special and General Theory by Albert Einstein? Maybe The Jungle by Upton Sinclair? Actually-” I set down my knife and rush to my room, returning with a book from my suitcase. “I brought this with me on vacation for light reading.” I hand the curious child the worn book. “It’s the Common Sense pamphlet by Thomas Paine. It’s American, but I’m sure it’s much more interesting than Peter Rabbit.”

Finn apprehensively scans the first page, and I can’t hide my growing smile as a look of interest begins to spread on his face. He starts reading, wandering down the hall while not looking up once. Maybe I’ll make a good tutor after all.

“Alright, enough chatter. Let’s eat.” An approaching voice speaks.

I go back to chopping carrots and don’t bother to look up until the voice speaks again.

“Who are you?”

When I lift my gaze to find the voice’s source, a pair of icy blue eyes are peering into me. The eyes belong to a man with a well-sculpted face that shows both stern and commanding intentions. He’s wearing gray trousers, black dress shoes, white shirt and gray vest, as well as a flat cap that John was wearing earlier. He’s also smoking a cigarette, which has brought a foul stench along with it.

“Who let you in here?” The man asks, not even waiting for me to answer his first question.

“Polly did. Pleasure to meet you-”

“But you can’t be here. I’ll have to talk to her.” Then he walks off and starts pouring himself some water, and I faintly hear him mutter: “We don’t take in strays.”

Excuse me? Since when does this guy get to treat me like dirt? Maybe it’s the American mutt temper, but I’ve got the urge to give him a piece of my mind!

I lean against the counter and look up with rebellious eyes. “Gotta say, your accent is a bit on the tricky side. Mind saying that again?”

The man seems taken back by the tone of my voice, as if he’s not used to people being sassy with him. He’s quick to regain his posture and has a smirk growing on his lips.

“And I’ll say that your American accent is downright pathetic compared to ours. You lot still never got over being independent, did you? Gotta flaunt it about in all our faces!”

My jaw drops. “I never even mentioned that! I think you’re the one holding a grudge based on a war you weren’t even a part of!” He tries to interrupt but I keep talking. “And for the record, we Americans are current allies with you. So instead of arguing about something that happened a hundred and forty years ago, I say we uphold each country’s honor and talk as if we’re on the same level. Do you agree?”

The man keeps staring at me, seeming to ponder whether or not to argue again.

“This book is really good!” Finn interrupts the silence from down the hall.

I grin at his enthusiasm and go back to chopping carrots, ignoring the man’s blank stare.

“Polly said you know Finn, my new student.”

His eyes flick upwards to find mine again. “Pardon?”

“I’m his tutor, or at least I have been for the past hour. Polly hired me, so that’s why I’m here.”

“Interesting…”

Now he’s looking at me in a different manner, as if sizing me up as a potential threat. Why would he do that? The man slowly walks around the counter towards me and removes his cap, allowing me to see he has dark hair in a style similar to Finn’s. He turns it over and sets it on the counter, as if he wants me to get a closer look. What I do I notice it’s got something shiny peeking out of the brim.

“What’s with the custom hat? It’s made of metal, or something?”

The man simply chuckles and holds back the fabric to show- razors?

“You sew razor blades into your hat? Now I’ve heard everything! And I thought Americans were crazy!”

“Is that soup I smell?” Another voice comes from the same way the man came. Another man enters the room and I recognize him as John. When he sees us, his eyes acquire a hint of uncertainty. “Thomas, I see you’ve met Verena. Polly was just telling me about her.”

So this is the Thomas I was warned about? I guess Polly wasn’t kidding when she said he was ruff. 

“Not officially, John. She was just telling about how Polly hired her to teach Finn. May I ask why?”

“Polly says it’s because he needs a proper education. Not one that’s only taught through bookkeeping. Can’t say I blame her. When’s the last time any of us actually sat down with him and taught him something?”

Thomas shrugs. “If he’s going to be part of the Blinders he’ll learn all he needs to know by watching us.”

The name sends a chill down my spine and I snap to attention.

“Wait- Blinders? As in Peaky Blinders…? Oh my God.” I look back and forth between Thomas and John, still holding the knife. “Shelby! That’s the name! Shelby! I’ve heard things about you, what kind of a man you are! Excuse me, but I do not want to be involved with anything surrounding you!”

I grip the knife and dash for the hallway, yanking on the door handle only to find it’s locked. Panicking, I stand in the corner with the knife held out as Thomas Shelby struts towards me- holding a pistol!

“Please, don’t kill me! I have nothing to offer! You’d just be wasting a bullet!”

There’s no answer, only Thomas looking at me with cold eyes.

“Verena! Verena! Polly, where'd she go?” Finn’s voice comes from down the hall. He turns his head and sees me, with a wide grin on his face. God, I can’t let him see me get killed!

“Finn…? Finn! Did you finish your reading?” I speak in a quivering voice.

“Almost. I’ve only got a few more pages.”

I nod shakily still looking between Finn and Thomas, who’s looking at him while still holding the gun up. “Alright, go and finish up and then I’ll be right over.”

Finn heads back into his room, and I look up to glare into Thomas’ calculating eyes. “I swear to God, if you so much as lay a finger on that boy-!”

“You’ll what?” Thomas asks in a laid-back manner. “A moment ago you were begging for me not to kill you. Now you’re threatening me not to kill my own brother?”

My mind stops. “Brother…? He’s your brother? Oh…” I shamefully look to the floor, cursing myself in my head for making such a stupid mistake. “But you’ll still kill me.”

The next few quiet seconds are so suspenseful I swear I can hear my own heart beating. I dare to look back up at Thomas, who now shakes his head.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

My brow furrows at his words. “This means I’m fired then, doesn’t it?”

By now John’s entered the hallway and comes over to stand in front of Thomas.

“Why would we fire you? From what Polly’s told me and what we’ve seen here, you haven’t given us any reason to fire you.”

“But my question is-” Thomas steps forward. “Can she be trusted? How do we know she’s loyal to us?”

I bite my lip and lower the knife I’m holding. “With all due respect sir, you’re technically my employer. That and the fact that you’re temporarily housing me gives me enough reason to be loyal. And if for whatever reason in the future I might not be, you can kick me to the dirt.”

Both men exchange looks, seeming to have a silent conversation while I stand here awkwardly. Eventually John gestures for Thomas to put away the gun, who seems to have forgotten he had it out.

“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Thomas says in a lighter tone. “What was your name again?”

Now that he’s not holding a gun at me, Thomas actually seems decent. I might dare to even call him handsome. Remember, this is your boss now. Keep it professional. Don’t lose your head.

I stand up straighter and hold out a hand to shake his. “Verena Nora Steenstra. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” I turn to John and shake his hand too. “You as well, Mr. Shelby. I was told by Polly to wait for any further instructions. In the meantime there is soup in the pot if you’re interested.”

“Wait.” Thomas gets an odd look. “You… made dinner? Why?”

Now that I have more leverage, I hold my breath to squeeze past the two men and back into the kitchen. “I had nothing else to do, and it’s the least I can do since you’ve allowed me into your home.”

Just then, Polly comes into the room. She hesitates when she sees us, giving John and Thomas a certain look. Then she sees the pot on the stove.

“Who cooked? Ada hasn’t made anything in weeks.”

The two men look at each other, then point to me. Polly seems impressed.

“You appear to be a lady of many talents, Ms. Steenstra.”

My face goes pink at her praise and I busy myself by stirring the soup. “I know my way around the kitchen. My family thinks it’s proper for me to be a suitable housewife, so that’s what I’ve been expected to do my whole life. Cooking, baking, sewing, the works. In all honesty, this is the first real job I’ve ever had.”

When I turn back to them, they’re all sitting at the table and appear to all be whispering something. Thomas is the one to speak first.

“So you’re from America, and for the moment you are stuck here?”

“Correct.”

He nods slowly. “Welcome to Birmingham, Ms. Steenstra. Here’s exactly what you’re getting yourself into, love. My family runs a bookkeeping business, and we do our part to keep a close eye on the authorities. People know better not to mess with us.”

“Bookkeeping, like gambling?”

“Correct.”

Dear Lord, I’ve become involved with criminals!

Polly seems to catch onto my panicked thoughts. “You need not worry about being caught up with our work. You’ll only be interacting with Finn.” Polly’s eyes narrow. “If anyone asks, you’re a private tutor and only a private tutor. Do not go asking too many questions.”

I nod shakily and wring my hands together. “Seems to me like a world made up of gambling, drinking, and violence.” I shake my head and give her a skeptical look. “That doesn’t seem like a world I want to be involved in.”

“You won’t have to, and I suggest you don’t.”

By now Finn’s returned and is sitting next to John, but he’s not the only one who’s entered. Over the past few minutes a man with a mustache and a younger woman with short dark hair wearing a red dress are now standing across from me. Thankfully Polly notices my discomfort.

“Everyone, we need proper introductions. This is Verena Steenstra, and she’s going to be helping Finn with his studies. Verena, you’ve met Finn, Thomas, and John. The final Shelby brother is Arthur over there.” She points to the mustache man. “And Ada’s their sister.” She points to the woman in red.

Wow. The Shelbys are a big family. And suspicious ones at that, because they’re all looking at me as if they’re dogs eyeing a piece of meat.

“Polly, no offense, but I don’t like this,” the one called Arthur grunts. “Who says the bitch won’t tattle to the coppers the instant she leaves? How do you know she isn’t a spy sent by the new bloke?” He jerks his head to see Finn eating my soup and he swipes the bowl. “How do we know this isn’t poisoned?!”

“Because I ate it?” I shrug. “Because unlike most people I’ve met here I actually try to be nice? It’s fun, you should try it sometime.”

John starts outright laughing, leaving us all giving him funny looks. “You picked out a real winner, Polly! She’s just like the Americans I met during the war!”

Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 5

Ch. 5 - Dragon Turtle

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Dragon turtle alert!! Will the team make it out of this encounter alive? Will they find the entrance to Nautera before anything bad happens to them?? Read on to find out, intrepid readers!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | BG3 Masterlist | Read on AO3

“Tribute?” 

Gale glanced over his shoulder at the room behind him. The submersible was tilted at a steep angle so that the floor sloped sharply downward, forcing most people to hang on to controls, pipes, and railings to try and stay standing. It was Minthara who voiced the question from where she crouched using the side of a control unit as her foundation. 

All heads turned to seek out the vampire. Karlach was holding him mostly upright with a strong grip around his upper arm, her other hand hanging on to a bit of railing. The vampire’s eyes widened as he noticed all eyes were on him.

“Well don’t look at me!”

“I don’t think it will accept lives as tribute,” Wyll said. He had one hand wrapped around a pipe and was leaning out like a swashbuckling pirate, completely at ease with the new angles in the room. “Especially undead ones. It’s a dragon—the only language it speaks is treasure.”

“Well we don’t have any treasure to give it,” Gortash snapped. 

“This entire submersible is coated in polished bronze and brass, Gortash,” Shadowheart said. “I doubt it will believe that.”

“Then our only course of action is to attack,” Minthara said.

“Attack a dragon turtle?” Halsin asked, twisting from where he was, his back flat to the nearly vertical floor and his feet on a series of pipes, to look up at her. “Are you mad?”

“Would you rather get eaten, druid?”

“It spoke to us first, perhaps we can respond!”

“I think it’s growing impatient,” Gale warned, as the dragon turtle turned its head again and narrowed its eyes. 

A hollow-sounding, panicked voice suddenly rang out from a trumpet-like fixture on the wall. “Saer! The outer walls are cracking back here and water is leaking in! I don’t know how much go longer the bulkheads can withstand the pressure!”

“Gods-damned monstrosities,” Gortash growled under his breath. He shifted from where he knelt against the main control panels, his foot nearly wedged in the ship’s wheel. “Gale. You can speak to it. Convince it to release us.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Gale asked, irritation and disbelief making his tone sharp. “Ask it very nicely?”

“I was told you were intelligent. Figure it out. Quickly.” He turned his head toward the rest of the room. “The rest of you, ready yourselves!”

“Battle stations!” Minthara barked. “Send word to the others—be ready for anything.”

The dragon turtle spoke again, its impossibly deep voice once more causing the entire submersible to rattle and shake. 

Speak, creature. Who sends you?

Gale took a deep breath and got to his feet, planting one foot on the glass and the other on the metal control unit next to him. There was no way this dragon turtle could hear him inside the submersible, even if he shouted. It was clearly time for some good old-fashioned thaumaturgy. 

He touched a hand to his throat and cast the spell—Fortior!—and willed his voice to be three times louder, almost as loud as the dragon turtle’s. With another deep breath, he shouted in draconic, “We are priests of Umberlee! Release us so that we may offer our tribute to you!”

Surely a small lie wouldn't make things worse. They just needed to get free.

The dragon turtle narrowed its eyes again and then gave another deep, rumbling laugh.

Ahh…not a creature, but a vessel. Priests of Umberlee, you say?

It tilted their submersible again, almost leveling it out. Gale had to scramble to jump down from the control unit back onto the floor without falling flat on his back. “Yes! Release us and we—”

The entire world suddenly tore out from underneath Gale and then slammed against him once more as the dragon turtle dragged the submersible through the water and smashed it against the rocky face of a cliff. Gale and several others flew through the helm, falling first to the floor and then crashing against controls, levers, wheels, and pipes as the submersible crunched against the rock. An explosion of pain bloomed in his side and chest as he was thrown against a set of controls, all sharp edges and hard metal, knocking the air from his lungs.

The dragon turtle let go of the submersible with a rumbling laugh. As they drifted downward, sinking slowly, black spots began to swirl in Gale's vision. He tried to find his breath again, willing his struggling lungs to take in air. As he struggled, he vaguely made out the dragon turtle's next words.

You lie.

“What the hells did you say to it?” Gortash yelled, climbing back up to his feet.

Gale clutched his side with a grimace and tried to sit up. “It—it doesn’t matter,” he gasped. “We’re free.”

Gortash stumbled over to a speaking horn on the wall and leaned in to yell, “Gunners! Launch the harpoons!”

“I don’t think harpoons are going do much against that guy,” Wyll warned. “Except make it angry.”

“I don’t care. Redhammer! All engines as high as they can go! If we can’t fight this thing, we’ll outpace it.”

But Redhammer, lying crumpled just a few feet from Gale, made no response. Gale’s stomach flipped as he noticed the unnatural angle of the dwarf’s neck. Across the room, two other pilots, a gnome and a human, lay deathly still, unconscious or killed by the brunt of being thrown about by the dragon turtle’s attack.

Outside, large spear-like harpoons shot through the water, launched from somewhere in the lower decks and sides of the submersible. Most of them bounced off or barely grazed the dragon turtle, but one shot forth right as the dragon turtle opened its mouth, sticking fast into the flesh of its gums. The creature growled, shrinking back, and lifted a clawed flipper to swipe at its face, clipping the submersible as it did. They tilted again, swaying and rocking.

“Redhammer!” Gortash twisted to look for the dwarf, then swore and took hold of the wheel himself, forcing the submersible to steady. “Pilots! Engines to—”

“Lord Gortash!” Another panicked, tinny voice burst from the horn on the wall. “Saer! The port side fins are damaged—bad. I don’t think—”

Another voice interrupted them, the voices mingling with a din until the second won over. “—starboard fins! I repeat, excessive damage to the starboard fins! Half of it’s torn off and—”

Yet another voice. “Saer! The rear bulkheads have burst and water is rushing towards the engine rooms! If we don’t get out of here fast we—”

“Gods damn them all!” With gritted teeth, Gortash let go of the wheel and dragged the dead human pilot over, wedging them beneath the outer spokes of the wheel to keep it from turning. “Evacuate the ship, now! All hands to the battle subs and cargo vessels!”

Flashes of light began to illuminate the waters as something else, cannonballs of some kind, shot toward the dragon turtle and exploded against its thick hide. Inside the submersible, the helm was a frenzy of activity as people rushed out of the room. Wyll swung down from where he’d been clinging to the pipes to help Gale to his feet as Karlach hefted the still-bound vampire over her shoulder.

“Come on, fangs, you’re with me!”

“Up you go, Gale, on your feet,” Wyll said, hauling him up. “Don’t fall behind!”

Gale didn’t bother gasping a response. He merely checked that his satchel was still around his body and that the Nauterran Account was still inside as he rushed after Wyll and the others. They clambered down ladders, down into a large cargo bay area. The vast space, now filling with water that already reached their calves, was lined with smaller submersibles and two medium-sized seacrafts—the cargo vessels. Each was shaped like a big metal fish in the same bronzy coating as the main submersible, but several of them were armed with harpoon guns and even a few cannons.

He saw Shadowheart and Lae’zel disappear into a smaller craft with another pilot while Wyll and Halsin ran ahead to help others. Gale swerved to follow Gortash, Minthara, Karlach, and her fanged hostage into a larger vessel alongside several others.

The minute they were inside, Karlach dumped the vampire into one of the seats that lined the wall and pointed to a seat on the opposite side. “Buckle in, soldier, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride! You,” she said pointing a clawed finger in the vampire’s face, “I’m unbinding you but you’re staying buckled in, got it?”

“Whatever gets me out of this madness intact,” he said, nodding quickly. She quickly cut through the bindings on his arms and then buckled him in tight as he was rubbing his wrists. She left his ankles bound and strapped herself into the seat next to him.

Gale collapsed into the other seat opposite them, fumbling with the buckles with shaking hands, sweat beading his brow. The pain in his side was impossible to ignore now and every breath sent a new wave of pain. The orb marking in his chest hadn’t stopped glowing since he’d stared down the dragon turtle through the glass, but now it throbbed in time with the waves of pain coursing through him. Outside the vessel, the main submersible shook again, as if something had broken or ruptured.

“Get us free of this damnable ship before it kills us! What are you waiting for?” Minthara barked from where she and Gortash sat in the cockpit of the submersible.

“Damn you, woman, I’m working on it!” he snapped, flicking a series of switches and pulling one of the levers. 

Dimly outside they could hear the roar of the dragon turtle and feel the submersible shaking as the gunners continued to load and launch harpoons and cannonballs. A loud bang blasted toward them as two massive metal doors on the far side of the cargo bay swung open and then crumpled under the pressure of the oncoming flood. A torrent of water rushed over them, lifting them up, nearly toppling them over, sweeping away several people still scrambling to get inside the smaller subs. Within seconds they were completely submerged in seawater.

“Finally! Took them long enough,” Gortash said. He pulled another lever and something—the cargo vessel's engines—roared to life. 

Gale twisted to look out of the front windows of their vessel just as they launched out from the cargo bay. Gortash steered them sharply downward from the submersible, deftly dodging around another vessel and dipping toward the sea floor. A great flash of light illuminated the waters around them, followed by the barely muffled sound of a massive explosion, sending out a wave of force that rocked their vessel violently. The dragon turtle gave a piercing screech.

“The submersible!” Karlach yelled, turning to look through a porthole on her side.

“Good,” Minthara said viciously. “Let’s hope it harmed the creature and bought us some time.”

The depths outside were chaos. Gale watched through the glass as the wave of force from the submersible explosion sent a gunner ship careening to the side and straight into a rock tower. The vessel hit the rocks and crumpled like tin. Before its lights flickered out, he saw the tower begin to crumble down over it.

All around them, the trenches were filled with a frenzy of flashing explosions and high-speed metal subs veering around stone columns, cliffs, and other submersibles, all pursued by an angry dragon turtle the size of a large fortress. Everything came in glimpses as lights from the subs swung wildly about, attempting to pierce the inky darkness enough to avoid the hazards all around them. Gale tried desperately to think of some spell to help in a situation like this, but his pain-addled mind was useless—inside an underwater submersible flying around at reckless speeds, he was useless.

“Gale!” Gortash yelled, over his shoulder, shouting to be heard over the din of others attacking the dragon turtle and its angry roars.  His voice snapped Gale out of his thoughts. “What are our chances that this dragon turtle is guarding your entrance to Nautera?”

“Given all these destroyed ships, extraordinarily high but not a guarantee,” Gale shouted back. They swerved sharply again to avoid crashing into one of the dragon turtle’s legs as it turned in the water. Smaller gunner ships were flitting around it like flies, trying to shoot harpoons and exploding cannonballs at it. The beast swiped a clawed arm at them, catching one of them and sending it crashing into another. Gale forced himself to look away from the gruesome sight and back out toward the front of their cargo vessel. “If it’s here, the statues are lying on the sea floor—look for a stone head or an arm worn down by time and the currents!”

“And then?”

“You’re looking for a crack in the rock—a crevice or a wide split that tunnels downward into the bedrock! Follow it down and around and we should end up in the Underdark!”

“There!” Minthara pointed. “I see something amid the broken ships!”

Gale craned his neck to peer through the front windows. In the distance, faintly seen in the lights of their vessel, two giant statue heads rested against the rocky sea floor, one lying on its side. They were worn smooth by time, but there were still a few features that were instantly recognizable as humanoid features, marking them as distinctly different than the rocks and boulders around them.

“Yes! That has to be them! Look for a deep crevice—”

Another explosion, this one much smaller, rocked their vessel as another gunner was destroyed. 

“Shit!” Karlach said, looking out of the portholes. “Gortash you gotta push this thing faster or we’re gonna be dinner for the big guy!”

The dragon turtle roared again, much closer and much louder, the sound one of rage and pain. Gale could vaguely make out words in the cacophony, which rang so loudly he and the others had to clamp their hands over their ears.

I WILL CRUSH YOUR METAL SHELLS AND SCATTER YOUR BONES TO THE DEPTHS!

It yelled something else, but Gale stopped trying to translate in his head. He gripped his satchel with one hand and the edge of his seat with the other, trying to keep himself from rattling around as Gortash pushed their ship to its limits, veering sharply around rocks and other vessels.

“Gortash! It’s gaining on us!”

“There!” Minthara yelled, pointing ahead. 

Gortash didn’t respond. He dipped them suddenly downward, aiming for a wide cleft in the bedrock.

Gale clutched tighter to his seat, trying to talk himself out of a rising panic as visions of crashing at full speed into the rock clouded his mind. “Just rudimentary plumbing, it’s just like rudimentary plumbing, it’s—”

The vampire looked at him like he was going mad.

The roar of the dragon turtle was right behind them as they dove down into the darkness of the crevice. Its giant clawed flipper reached in after them, scraping them and causing them nearly to crash into the tunnel walls, but soon they were free—and driving dangerously fast in a very narrow tunnel.

“Gortash, watch it!” Karlach yelled.

Gortash pulled a lever and the vessel's side fins turned suddenly vertical, creating a drag effect that acted like a harsh brake, abruptly slowing them as the tunnel took a sharp turn upward. Gale and everyone else buckled into the vessel's seats were flattened to their seats and then banged around as they clipped the tunnel walls trying to turn and follow the snaking tunnels upward. Behind them, some unfortunate gunner wasn’t so lucky, crashing directly into the tunnel walls with another bright explosion. Gortash threw the lever again, manipulating the fins and engines to make it through the tunnels as they twisted and turned.

For one terrifying moment, Gale was convinced he’d been wrong. That these tunnels went nowhere except to a dead end and that they would crash into bedrock with enough force to spell instant death for everyone inside. He clenched his teeth so hard together he thought they would crack as they hurtled upward into deeper and deeper darkness—

And then all at once, they shot free of the tunnels, rocketing into open water. Gortash flattened the side fins again, dragging them through the depths and slowing them quickly. Seconds later, the water came to an abrupt end as they surfaced with an explosive spray. Gortash killed the engines, leaving them to bob up and down in the waves their abrupt surfacing had created.

Then…silence. Silence and darkness, save for the lights beaming out from the front of the cargo vessel.

“Did…did we make it?” Karlach asked, running a slightly shaking hand through her hair. Beside her, the vampire looked like he regretted ever climbing aboard the submersible in the first place.

“I think so,” Gale said, his voice somewhat weak. He pressed a hand to his aching side and turned carefully to peer out of the portholes on his side of the cargo vessel. Water lapped against the window, only coming about halfway up the glass. Overhead, there seemed to be nothing but space. This was no small cave or air pocket. It was a large cavern.

A moment later, two of the small gunner ships surfaced beside them, followed by a battered-looking third. Shadowheart and Lae’zel climbed out of the top, standing on the roof to look around. They bent their heads together for a moment before Shadowheart cast a spell on something in Lae’zel’s hands, creating a wide aura of light. Lae’zel threw the illuminated object into the darkness. 

As it sailed through the cavern in a high arc, piercing the darkness around them, Gale could see arching rocky walls and hundreds of stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Just before the illuminated object plopped into the water and sank, still glowing, into the depths, Gale spied a rocky beach and the ruins of four towering, carved columns framing a series of hewn stone steps. The evidence of humanoid craftsmanship, though ancient, couldn't be more obvious.

These must be the ancient roads to Nautera.

They had found the Underdark path to the lost city. Just as the Nauterran Account said they would.

[skizzlebeetle]

spreading this hc cuz i love them genuinely.

[ssselthrovv]

Thomas Newton come to Earth only for being the coolest bitch

CHANGE MY MIND!!!

Anyway this era of Bowie is my favourite not only because “The Man Who Fell to Earth” movie and first album from Berlin Trilogy — “Low” but because appearance of him: intermediate stage between Ziggy Stardast and Thin White Duke which definitely according by his mental state. Now he’s not that mischievous young man talking about “shoe’s shoes” also he’s not cold and mysterious man dressed in expensive suit. Something changed in him, maybe he’s getting older, maybe he’s tired of queer baiting or cocain diet and all that jazz. Idk I’m just love that ch-ch-changes (ahah)

[euphoriclusts]

[godscobhhq]

Molly from Toy Story

Name: Molly Davis Age: 21-25 Profession: UTP Pronouns: UTP FC suggestions: Peyton List, Meg Donnelly, Kathryn Newton Availability: Open

Biography UTP

Notable character information: Molly's world gets smaller and smaller everyday in Godscobh, surrounded by every member of her family. Its hard to have a life of your own living in Andy's shadow.