#maximum truth cast

[onlydylanobrien]

Dylan O’Brien with Ike Barinholtz, Tiya Sircar and Kiernan Shipka behind the scenes on the set of “Maximum Truth”. (2021)

📷©: tiyabird on Instagram

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - second interlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the third part of this fic, please read the first two for maximum enjoyment. The tale of your and Dottore's life seems to be coming to an end. Contains non-sexual nudity (you two cuddle nearly nude) and reader has some insecurities about themselves/their body. Of course, mandatory mention to my moot @kaixserzz and all my lovely anons (you too 🎐 anon <3.)

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“The butterfly’s life seemed to be going well. They had their dear raven who loved them along with his multiple copies. Friends who spent time with them. But in reality, life was much harder and dimmer for them than they outwardly showed sometimes. In fact, the butterfly found themselves plagued by dreams. They weren’t nightmares, but when they woke up, it certainly felt like one. Or when they did have genuine nightmares, they felt the same unease and wept about their unfortunate situation.”

You woke up under the sun, its heat kissing your skin, leaving you warm and fuzzy. Blearily, you rubbed your eyes and looked around, trying to gauge your location. Judging from the bright sun and soft grass surrounding you, one-of-a-kind fauna that could only be found in certain places, you must be in a forest in Sumeru. You yawned, rubbing your eyes, sitting up. It was then you noticed that Zandik was sleeping peacefully next to you as well. Hehe, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Zandik, slacking off? Especially when he always got mad at you for that? Oh, you were so going to tease him later. You reached out to caress his cheek but-

In the blink of an eye, he was gone, and you were confused. Where did he go…? But that was the least of your worries, as another blink had changed the landscape to one of pitch darkness. Immediately, you got up despite not being able to see anything. And then a voice sounded from somewhere.

“[Name].” After someone said your voice, a bright spotlight was cast on you, the only light in the vast darkness that surrounded you. And that voice… it wasn’t Dottore, but it sounded oddly familiar…

“[Name], oh [Name]. The poor pitiful person who cannot do anything useful for themselves or for others,” the voice continued to echo from above, though you could not see who was speaking. But then, as you took in their words, you realized that it was your voice. Your voice was the one sounding from above. How… what? You wanted to question it but you were more focused on the content of their words.

“What are you talking about? Who- who even are you?” The voice chuckled, a carbon copy of how you would laugh.

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You, who cannot ever hope to be anything more than you are now, forever stuck in that useless body and mentality of yours. You, who-”

“Hey! Ugh, you’re me, are you not? Why are you being so mean?” You replied, frustrated. Was it strange to be having a conversation with yourself as well?

“Indeed, I am you. But I am the truthful part of you. I am the voice that you bury in the back of your mind, the one you try so hard to ignore. But you know that I am right.” You gritted your teeth at your other voice’s words. No, that couldn’t be true. You were far, far better than what this imposter was saying! But before you could refute those statements, they spoke again.

“Just take a look at yourself from before.” And then, another spotlight opened up in front of you. There, basking under the light, was your former self from the Akademiya. Carefree, happy, and healthy, balancing a pencil on your finger as you cheerfully discussed some academics with Zandik. More spotlights flicked on to demonstrate your skilled movements, swiftly handling your weapon in battle. Ah, showing you all the things you couldn’t do anymore. How lovely. And then those lights switched off, and one turned on behind you, making you spin around.

In the spotlight stood a tall mirror, reflecting your current self right back at you. Not just outwardly, but mostly inwardly. Your throat went dry. You were so, so different. Did your illness really change you that much? The bright and lively face from before was a stark comparison to this tired one. The mirror began to reflect your recent memories as well. The ones where the segments had to do multiple tests on you for your health. Or when you needed to be helped with stuff even children could easily manage. Something began to deeply hurt in your chest.

“When you take a look in the mirror, what do you see? I don’t need to spell it out for you, do I?” The voice from above giggled at you. You just wanted to wake up from this nightmare, already on the verge of tears. Please, just let someone wake you up. It seemed that you couldn’t be happy whether in reality or in dreams.

“Okay, you’re right!” You cried. “You’re right… I’m sorry…” You didn’t even know why or who you were apologizing to.

“Ah, so you admit it, do you? Then you must be ready to accept your fate as well.”

“My… fate?”

“Yes, your fate. Do you really think your dear Dottore will stay with you after burdening him so?” That question made your heart freeze.

“I… yes he will! Of course he will! Zandik loves me… he loves me…” Perhaps you were trying to convince yourself more than stating it as a fact.

“Love? You?” A scoff sounded from behind you, the voice being one that was easily recognizable. Dottore. Turning around, you saw your beloved, but you did not feel the wave of comfort you usually did when in the presence of your lover. The mocking tone was one thing but… it was the way he looked at you. Though his mask was on, you could read his expression. And it was certainly not one of love. The feeling of dread was slowly growing more and more larger.

“Zandik…”

“Do not call me that. I am Il Dottore to you. After all, you are nobody special.” Ah. What did you do to deserve this nightmare…? You could hear the echoes of your own laughter in the background, mocking you. What did you expect? That someone on such a high level like Dottore would stay with you? How laughable, yes, how laughable indeed! But the only thing you could do was beg. Dottore began walking away, the darkness cloaking his figure, and you could not help but run, run, run after him, tripping on your feet as you finally closed the distance between him and you. The only energy you had left was to grip onto his hanging white coat.

You clung to his leg, tears streaming down your face as you continued to plead. “Please don’t. Please! Please, I’ll do whatever you want me to. Anything you want. Just please don’t leave me alone,” you sobbed. Dottore was the only thing you had left in this world. What would you do with yourself if he was gone?

The Harbinger only looked down at you with cold, cold, eyes that made your body feel even more frigid. He then opened his mouth to speak, and you knew if you heard what he said, it would break you.

Which is why it was good when your eyes popped open to that familiar ceiling of yours. Not even a second later, you sat up immediately and would have nearly jumped out of bed if it weren’t for a pair of strong arms holding you in place. But, you didn’t register this right away, and you tried to desperately fight the grip on you but it did not let up.

“[Name],” your brain finally processed the voice that had been calling you. “[Name], calm yourself,” the voice was the very definition of calm, the complete opposite of what you were right now, so the soothing tone managed to get through to you. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing once more, and attempted to relax your shaking body. The hands on your body remained until you had regained some kind of stability before they slid away. Blearily, you opened your eyes once again and lifted your head, blinking repeatedly to see your lover in front of you once again. Ah, so all of that was just a dream? Oh, you were so, so, thankful it wasn’t reality. 

“Zandik?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the light.

“Yes, it’s me. From my office, I could see your heart rate reaching abnormal levels, which is why I came to check on you.” You stole a glance at the machine hooked up to you, and indeed, your heart rate was higher than normal even though you had calmed down a bit. You could only imagine the level it was during the peak of your nightmare.

“Oh…” It was hard for you to form full sentences right now after that terrifying dream. 

“What happened?” He didn’t bother asking if you were okay because the answer to that was clear. You wondered to yourself if you should tell him. No, you shouldn’t, it was dumb. And it was just a dream… just a dream that surely would never become reality, so you shouldn’t waste his time with it.

“I had a dream,” you began, and Dottore looked at you expectantly. “But I forgot what happened,” you lied, hoping that he would buy it.

“It did not seem like a peaceful one.”

“Mhm… I’m not sure,” you replied briefly again. You’re not sure he believed you, but he did not further question it. But as you looked at him again, you just had to make sure he was real, and not just a figment of your imagination that would torture you again. So you reached your hands out to cup Dottore’s cheeks, feeling the intact skin under your palms. He looked at you questioningly, until you practically pinched and squished his cheeks, and normally he would have scolded you for such behavior, but you looked like you really did have a terrible dream, so he let it slide. But you still needed extra clarification.

“Are you real, Zandik?” You definitely sounded like you lost it now. But Dottore humored you anyway.

“I am real,” he affirmed.

“Prove it,” you demanded. Dottore looked at you expressionlessly, pausing for a few moments, perhaps contemplating what he should do to prove something so silly, but soon he pulled your hands away from his face and then leaned in to kiss you. His pointy teeth grazed your lips, bordering the line between a bit of pain and pleasure. You lost track of how long he kissed you like that, but you didn’t mind. You knew what he was trying to say. There was no way a fake could kiss you like that. His kisses were entirely real.

The nightmare still remained as a hazy mess in your head, but it gradually slipped away from you as you lost yourself in Dottore’s kisses.

… But that wasn’t the beginning or end of your dreams. They had been plaguing you for a while, and that one just happened to be the worst one yet. You don’t remember when they started, but you remember they started nice. The dreams felt like a warm blanket, cozy and soft, as you were back in the Akademiya from centuries ago. And they ended pleasantly too, but when you woke up, it certainly felt like the opposite. It was more like you were being suffocated, being so plainly reminded of your old life, and how different you were now. And then you wept yourself back to sleep, beginning to dread sleeping. Perhaps that’s why the nice dreams began to turn into actual nightmares. You just couldn’t understand why this was happening to you. But more importantly, you wished that Dottore hadn’t found out. 

You had lovely friends, segments who would dote on you, access to pretty much any entertainment since your lover still was a Harbinger after all (despite his budgeting issues with Pantalone), and last but certainly not least, you had the love of your life with you. Your life should feel pretty good, with all of these wonderful things around you.

But it didn’t. And you hated it. So, so much.

So it was only a matter of time before you’d be found out.

—

“And so the butterfly tried their best to hide how they truly felt. To hide the cycle of suffering from their loved ones, not wanting to burden the ravens even more. Although they tried their best, they could not keep up the act any longer.”

It started off as a normal day. You woke up with the same lingering sense of sadness, from the mini nightmare you had, but that was something you were used to. But you could have never expected this to happen.

It was during one of your regular, daily checkups. Some of the clones were there, doing their own thing, while Omega was the one administering the checkup. And you were getting the needle today, so that was nice, you guess. 

Oh, when would it end? When would you finally be free? When would your body be able to be strong again? How much longer will you be cursed to live like this? 

But after that internal monologue, you didn’t think much of it as Omega’s gloved hands carefully held your arm steady as he injected you with something. Nor did you pay much attention to the segments’ bickering, which was uncharacteristic of you. You usually liked to listen in and give your two cents on their arguments. But you hoped you didn’t seem too out of the ordinary.

However, sometimes when you try too hard, you end up doing the one thing you were trying to avoid. 

“[Name]? What is the matter?” Omega asked you, and then you realized all the other segments were staring at you as well.

“Huh? What do you mean?” You sat up a bit taller and smiled, hoping to appear your normal self. But it was then you noticed the growing dampness on your lap. Your heart leaped in your throat, and you brushed your fingers against your face, to be met with wet cheeks.

Oh. You were crying. After trying so hard not to. A part of you wanted to keep the facade up a bit longer, but it hurt too much to keep pretending, and it wouldn’t work anyway. Good thing Omega finished the checkup already. Otherwise, it would have been torture to sit there and cry while he took your vitals.

“[Name]-” Omega was the only one who could speak because the other younger clones were too shocked and unsure to say anything. But when he reached out to you, you swiftly dodged it.

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing, really!” Your voice cracked embarrassingly enough but you couldn’t pay attention to that, busy wiping your tears. Before the segments could do or say anything else, you quickly made a beeline for the door and exited into the endless corridors. If they called your name, you didn’t hear it, as you bit your lip to hide your pitiful sobs.

Hopefully hiding in your bed under the covers would alleviate some of the pain.

—

“When the raven came to check on his darling, the butterfly mourned to their companion: ‘How can you bear to look at me when I’ve been stripped of everything I once was? My wings, eyes, beauty, and soul are no more. How can you love me when I cannot even begin to like myself?’ The flightless butterfly wept as they attempted to hide their body away from the creature, though their wings were already too punctured to move. Still, they were too wrapped up in their hatred and guilt to face him. The creature was at a loss as to how to comfort his lover. How could he show that despite the fact they couldn’t fly anymore, or that their wings had lost their vibrance and become dull, he still loved them? The creature knew he had to do something, and so he decided to take off the fox fur and truly become the raven again, for his beloved’s sake.”

The sensation of being alone in your bed did not last for long, for soon enough there was a knock at your door.

“[Name]?” A muffled voice came beyond the door and you silently groaned. Of course the segments told Prime, and of course he was here now to inquire why you acted like that. And you think you forgot to lock your door too. You hoped that if you remained silent, he would just go away. You were wrong.

“[Name], I’m coming in.” And seconds later you heard the door to your room open and close, and then the footsteps stopped at the side of your bed. Though your face was under the covers, you imagine he was staring down at you.

“I heard what happened,” he began, and then his footsteps echoed throughout the room again as he walked over to the other side of the bed, where you primarily were. The pause after his sentence made you think he expected you to respond, but you didn’t of course. Then, you could feel the bed creak and dip with Dottore’s added weight, and you could feel the brush of his hands against your legs that were covered by the blankets.

“[Name], you can’t keep your head under the blankets forever. You have to come out at some point.” You hated how he was always right because as he spoke you had the desperate need to breathe some fresh air. Ugh. Reluctantly, you lowered the blanket ever so slightly, to only show your tear-stained eyes and your nose. You could feel Dottore’s eyes on you but you avoided looking at him, placing your arm over your eyes.

“[Name].”

“...”

“[Name],” Dottore’s voice had a deeper tone to it now.

“...What?”

“Tell me what is the matter.”

“Nothing is wrong. I-I just felt like crying,” you pathetically defended yourself. You hated showing such weakness in front of Dottore. Yet here you were, crying about your pitiful self while you were sure he had far more important things to attend to. After you spoke, he studied you for a few moments before he replied.

“I have no intention of leaving here until you speak. You may test my patience if you wish, but I will find out what troubles you regardless,” Dottore spoke rather matter-of-factly. You just wanted to shrivel up into nothing at this point. You knew when Dottore says he’ll do something, he’ll make good on it no matter what. And you were right, for countless minutes went by as your lover remained sitting in the same position, turning his gaze to observe your room at times before turning back to you.

Dottore realized that it had been a while since he was in your room. There were just some days when he could not afford the time, so the segments had been taking diligent care of you instead. He looked around your room and noticed some child-like drawings were pinned to the wall. Ah, that must have been you and Zandy. And the Ruin Machine parts scattered on your table. Probably another segment, perhaps Alpha. He makes a silent note to himself to ask you about everything you’ve done in his absence. He obviously wants to be updated on your life still, despite all of his bothersome duties. Dottore looks back at you and sees that you’re wearing a conflicted expression, perhaps wondering how to say what you want to say. That’s alright. Regrator will survive if he doesn’t get his paperwork today. The silence continues before you speak up softly.

“Zandik…” The call of his real name has his attention back on you, and the scholar is prepared to find a proper solution to whatever has you so worked up.

“Do you really love me?” 

…Alright, admittedly, that was not one of the things Dottore was ready to refute, and the Harbinger finds himself at a loss of words for a few moments, though he does not let it show on his face. Here he was wondering if maybe you had a bad flare-up of your illness, or if possibly some idiot spoke to you wrongly. But instead, you are questioning his love for you? How… surprising and frankly absurd, but he must get to the bottom of this.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I just…” Your face crumples further, looking even sadder if that was possible. “I just don’t understand…” You remember a conversation you had with Childe. He had said you must be quite exceptional to have the Doctor wrapped around your finger. You could only smile and bite your tongue because, in reality, you were nothing special. At least not anymore. Maybe centuries ago, but certainly not now. 

“Understand what?”

“Why you would still love me.” Your statement and crestfallen expression have Dottore’s brain working in an attempt to fully understand this misunderstanding. He could probably fill up a few journals about why you were most dear to him, his pens breaking countless times, about why everything about you far outshone the irrelevant other beings in his world, and why worshipping you instead of even the almighty Archons was something he found far more appealing. But he doesn’t have time for that, no, he needs to make you see how wrong you are as quickly as possible.

“Why would I not love you?” He inquires, hoping to tear down your arguments with reason, that also incorporates his true feelings in it.

“Well, how about my personality? I… I know I’m not the same as I used to be. I might not even be the same person anymore.” Though you generally tried to be as cheerful and happy as you could, just as your old self once was, oftentimes your illness would leave you in a despondent state. And you truly did feel bad, especially when you knew Dottore was taking time out of his busy schedule to be with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to speak or even touch him. You just wanted to be alone. But Dottore had an answer for you.

“[Name], I am certainly not the same person as I once was, yet you still love me, do you not? It is no different for you. Furthermore, everyone changes. In a few hundred years, I suspect both of us will be changed people once again. Yet I know that I will still be with you, and you with me, despite our changes. So, do not fear change. You may be different, but my perspective on you shall never change regardless of what you may undergo.” Ah. So no matter how much you drifted away, became distant, swallowed by your illness and your own self-loathing, maybe even becoming unrecognizable to yourself, Dottore would still love you. His words sounded sincere enough, and you wavered a bit, but you still had too many thoughts flooding your brain.

“Okay, but what about my intelligence? I can hardly compare to you or even what I used to be in the Akademiya. Isn’t that a part of what you love me for? But I can hardly offer you anything like that now.” The way you spoke made it seem like you were dead set on making him realize that he couldn’t love you anymore, and though he was indeed a bit confused and even upset that you were looking down upon yourself like that, he continued to prove you wrong.

“You were asleep for over four hundred years. It is only perfectly normal that you are not in the same state as then. But I have no doubt you’ll reach that level once again in due time,” Dottore stated as a fact rather than a possibility. “And, you have actually assisted me with your knowledge far more times than you are aware of. I can think of quite a few times where your words have helped me with my research. So, I will have to disagree with you once again, for you are far smarter than you give yourself credit for.” His voice was calm as he spoke, but it seemed to further agitate you as you chewed on your lip. 

Even as you brought up more points, he shot them down effortlessly. Though his responses did make you feel somewhat better, you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself. Why? Why couldn’t you see the things he supposedly did? The all-knowing doctor was here, spending so much time in an attempt to make you feel better, something that no one would ever experience, and yet you still couldn’t understand.  By this point, you lay defeated, hand covering your exhausted face. Your constant criticisms seemed to have come to an end as Dottore watched on, scrutinizing you. But you had one last question.

“But me… am I even attractive anymore?” Admittedly, you had trouble looking at yourself sometimes. It was just far too hard to see yourself in a positive light at times. So you had no idea how Dottore could. At these words, there was a delayed response. He remained silent before you felt the bed return to normal, his weight leaving the mattress. Then, you heard the thud of something falling to the floor, and you opened your eyes to Dottore’s unmasked face, red eyes and scars greeting you. But that was not what surprised you. He moved to brush off the black fur that lined his back and the hanging accessories attached to it, the clothing dropping to the floor. And then, he worked at his white overcoat, which pooled at his feet too. You sat up in the bed, watching him with wide and curious eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Your question received no answer as Dottore merely continued to remove his clothing. His gloves came off and his blue shirt did too. The only thing remaining on his upper body was his harness. Which was… kind of funny to be honest, even though it wasn’t meant to be.

But it was then you realized you hadn’t seen Zandik nude since all those centuries ago at the Akademiya. And now you were finally taking a good look at his body, which was covered in markings and scarred skin. So his face wasn’t the only part that had scars… You wanted to reach out, to run your hands along him, and it seemed like Dottore expected you to, in fact, even wanted you to, by the look on his face that beckoned you closer. And so you did, pulling the blankets off of you and standing up, as you hesitantly caressed his skin, all while he looked on closely.

“What do you think?” He questioned.

“What do I think?” you repeated. “Well… I still think you’re awfully handsome, of course.” That was a no-brainer, he would always be incredibly attractive to you. Though before you could inquire as to whether these scars still hurt or not, he interrupted you.

“I know,” Dottore smirked. You raised your eyebrows at that response, but he continued. “Because I know everything about you. There’s nothing about you that I do not keep a record of, and I plan to keep it that way. And though I could once again use my words to answer your question, I do believe it will be more effective to answer through actions. And now that I have revealed myself to you, I hope that you will allow me the opportunity to examine you further to show you exactly how I feel. Yes, I need hard evidence if I am to prove my case to you.”

You took in his words for a second. You were honestly very hesitant about revealing your body to Zandik because you feared what he would think, but the way he spoke with such certainty made you feel a bit comforted. So you relented. 

“Alright,” you murmured, releasing your grip on him to shed your own clothes. Your clothes from your upper half fell onto the floor, leaving you topless. Dottore’s gaze remained on you intently, but there wasn’t anything sexual about this. He simply wanted to observe your beauty. But your bottom half remained covered.

“Continue.” You crossed your arms and sent him a look.

“I’m only continuing if you do too,” you motioned to how his pants and other things were on as well. “I… want to see all of you too.” You would feel more safe that way, not wanting to feel alone. Dottore chuckled.

“As you wish,” he went along with your request and stripped himself further. You gulped as your gaze raked along the rest of his body. His legs didn’t have as many scars as his upper body, but they were still there. Now, Dottore looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to follow through, and you did. You stripped yourself of your lower garments until both of you were only left in your underwear. As the cold air hit your bare body, you suddenly felt wildly self-conscious again.

“Well,” your throat was dry as you mumbled, “here I am. This is me.” You kept your eyes on the floor, not wanting to see his facial expression. Because you were deathly scared of disappointment. The few seconds of silence that followed made you suck in your breath, your stomach churning at what he could possibly be thinking. How frail and weak you probably looked, along with all the other imperfections you hated about yourself. It was all so noticeable to you, there was no way Dottore would miss it either. This was a horrible idea, and you opened your mouth to speak, to forget it, desperate to hide away from your lover when he spoke one lone word that made you stiffen.

“Beautiful.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You hesitantly met Dottore’s gaze so you could gauge his expression, and as much as you wanted to convince yourself that he was lying because there was no way your pitiful self could reach that level of praise from him, you knew he wasn’t. You’ve known him longer than anyone, so you knew when he was being sincere. And right now, there wasn’t a hint of mocking or falseness in his tone.

You could no longer hold his gaze at that simple but heavily loaded word, but in a few seconds, his bare hands were running around your body. You wanted to shy away from his touch, but Dottore’s grip on you was strong and firm. His fingers fluttered down your arms, your tummy, your back, carefully examining every inch of you while you could only watch on… it seemed as though he had your entire body mapped out and memorized. In fact, it seemed like he was enjoying this, a small hum escaping him as he mentally made notes about you. 

“Indeed, quite beautiful, even more than I predicted. Really, it’s rather interesting to see how my hypothesis can fall so short of reality.” His words made your body heat up in embarrassment, but you still couldn’t help but be confused by his words. Surely you weren’t anything that special. But he sure looked at you like you were.

“Would you permit me to have a closer look?”

“I… uh, sure,” you fumbled over your words, still left speechless from that. Zandik then effortlessly picked you up and placed you on the bed, making you squeak from the unexpected movement. He could quite literally see every part of you, as he now hovered over you as you lay on your back, his eyes boring into your figure as he restrained you from trying to squirm away. Your body was stiff and nervous as he hummed, gliding a finger across your body until he reached one particular scar.

“Ah, I remember this one. When I was on the ladder near the bookshelves in the Akademiya’s library and accidentally dropped a book on you.” You blinked once, and then twice at his words. Dottore actually remembered that, just from a mere marking? After you got over your initial surprise, you couldn’t help but let out some giggles at that. You had forgotten how you had gotten some of your scars since you avoided looking at yourself, but that memory was just too good.

“You know you nearly killed me that day? All because I called you ‘love’,” you huffed to which Dottore chuckled.

“You called me ‘love’ in public. Of course I would be startled.”

“It was three AM in the library, and there was no one there,” you rolled your eyes, finding some more comfort at how Dottore’s hands would wander over the parts you considered imperfections. 

“And this one, it was from when that idiot pushed you over.” The scar he was referring to was when you were on a group expedition with numerous other scholars, and some guy thought it would be a good idea to barrel into you, making you take a pretty nasty fall. Zandik was more pissed off than you. Looking back now, it was pretty funny. You didn’t realize it, but Dottore was doing a good job of distracting you from your thoughts. It just felt… really nice to be genuinely appreciated for who you were, despite the flaws you had, and you began to relax a little bit more. 

After some more memories and reminiscing, the room went silent again as the only thing that could be heard was the breathing of you two, your own breaths much calmer than what they were a while ago. Not a single part of your body hadn’t fallen victim to his hands. You were now cuddled into his chest as he held you. You just loved Dottore so much. Though your insecurities still lingered a little bit in the back of your mind, he did help you to feel much better. After all, who else besides you was afforded the words “you’re beautiful” from none other than Il Dottore?

Not to mention how handsome Zandik was. You got to brush your hands all over his body too… Although you were sad he’s been hurt so much, he was still wildly attractive. You wanted to like this more with him… more open. More exposed. You’d still be quite nervous every time, but maybe this could… help you. And you’d get more bonding time with your beloved.

“Zandik… could we start taking baths together?”

“Baths?” Zandik echoed while stroking your hair, then smirked at you.  “Could it be that you want to see more of me, dear [Name]? Why, I could never have expected you to be so bold.” You couldn’t help but blush and roll your eyes at his teasing.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, you got me there Zandik,” you huffed, further burying your face into his chest, fingering the straps of his harness. “I just thought it would be nice to do that with you,” you mumbled shyly, to which Zandik only chuckled.

“Of course. I see no reason as to why we can’t.” Dottore felt you smile against his bare skin, but he felt the need to give you a little talk.

“[Name],” he began, his voice a touch more serious than before, and you knew that he was probably going to lecture you a little bit. He tapped his fingers on your neck, a sign that he wanted you to look at him. So very reluctantly, you stopped nuzzling his chest and peeked up at him nervously. He sighed as he held your chin, just in case you tried to look away like you always did.

“I expect you will not hold your tongue around me in the future, yes? Allowing such thoughts to fester will only lead to further misunderstandings down the line. I do not want to see that for you,” he said rather sternly, but you knew it was with good intentions. Still, you hated putting your stupid troubles onto Dottore. It was surely so frivolous compared to what he had to deal with… And of course, it seems like your lover read your mind based on his next words.

“[Name], your words will never be anything less than important to me. You must speak to me whenever something ails you. All this is not good for your health, either.” Then, after a pause, he added a bit more solemnly, unconsciously holding your nude body tighter against his. “You have been completely silent for four hundred years. I want to hear whatever you have to say, regardless of what it may be.” Ah, that was right. He had to deal with you being deathly quiet for that long…

“Alright, I will,” you promised, returning the gesture and holding him tighter (if that was even possible, considering how weak you were).

“Good,” he replied, back to his usual demeanor.

This wouldn’t be the end. There would still be many days when you felt like this all over again. When your negative thoughts got the best of you and tried to consume you whole. In fact, every day could be a struggle, with your illness and mood fluctuating. But that could wait for tomorrow.

Right now, there was only this moment where only the two of you existed, and that was all that mattered.

Bonus:

Dottore had begun to move away from you, and his warmth leaving your body immediately had you protesting and clinging onto him.

“[Name], you have to put your clothes back on now otherwise you’re going to catch a chill.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, trying to pull his arm back into the bed. He looked at you with amusement.

“Alright,” he gave into your demands, “but only for a little while more. And you must come even closer then.”

You didn’t know if it was possible to get any closer to Zandik than this, but you happily accepted.

—

“Although the raven and butterfly promised to be bound to each other for all eternity, the butterfly began to long for something more. They became somewhat jealous of the other creatures in the forest, and longed to follow their ways with their own darling.”

Marriage.

It was something that was growing more and more of a need rather than a want. You never thought you would be here, lying awake at night, daydreaming of Dottore marrying you, but here you were now. Admittedly, hearing the stories from the other Fatui agents was mainly what put the idea in your head. When you inquired into their love life, many of them would tell you about their spouse. “Spouse.” What a wonderful word. A sign that their love for each other had reached such a stage had you smiling. But then you realized that you could not call Dottore your husband, nor could he call you his spouse.

You didn’t expect it to bother you that much, but it did. Why weren’t you two married? Was that why people doubted your relationship so much? Perhaps if you had a ring and some papers to show for it, it would finally get through their thick skulls?

Besides that, the idea of marrying Zandik was very appealing. You didn’t need or want some big, fancy wedding, but rather it was the notion of marriage that you enjoyed. Yes, you knew you two would never be apart from each other, but marrying him was still nice to think about. And it would be so cute! So you made up your mind to marry Zandik. All you needed was to get him to agree.

“Dottore, let’s get married.” That one sentence made Dottore stop moving his pen, leaving a blot of ink where he left it resting.

“Pardon?” You had barged into his office a mere few seconds ago and those were the first words you uttered.

“I would like us to get married. You know, officially and all of that.” You stood right in front of his desk, staring at him with a proud smile on your face. Dottore stared right back at you with an unreadable expressionable, silence overtaking the room, before chuckling and picking back up his pen. 

“Very amusing, dear,” he continued writing whatever he was working on. You furrowed your eyebrows at his dismissal, quite offended at how he blew you off, before grabbing the pen right from his hand, unclicking it, and placing it in the cup holder. You had his attention once again.

“Zandik,” you emphasized his real name so he knew you were serious, “I mean it.” Dottore peered at you before folding his hands on his desk.

“Why?”

“Why?” You repeated. Wasn’t it completely obvious, the reasons as to why one would want to get married? And really, how many people could be like “Oh yeah, I’ve been married for a few hundred years!” (You imagined yourself doing that to others in the future. Well, hopefully, you’ll be alive in a few centuries too.) 

“Well, I mean, because we love each other of course. And marriage is one of the highest displays of love one could show to another.” 

“I see,” he seemed to take in your words. “Although I beg to differ. I believe that the mere concept of marriage could never compare to how I have shown my devotion to you in much larger amounts.”

“I-I guess you’re right about that,” you admitted, “but it would be… romantic! And there would be hard evidence, yes, tangible proof for both of us as a sign of our love.”

“Tangible proof?” The Harbinger chuckled. “I already have much evidence of our love. It’s standing right in front of me. What more proof would I want than you?” He then tapped to his neck, and you followed suit, brushing your fingers against your neck only to find a bite mark that was healing. Ugh! How dare he be both romantic and refute both of your points? And also curse him for not taking you seriously! Normally, you would have gotten mushy over the flirting but this time you felt the prick of annoyance.

“It could be like, a new chapter for us. You know.” You were running out of practical reasons. The legal benefits stuff, last names, or whatever, didn’t apply to or matter to the two of you. Your relationship was quite unique after all. A Harbinger didn’t care much for the law anyway.

“I can’t see our relationship changing that much after one ceremony.” 

“Well, it would be gradual…” 

“What exactly would be different?” You couldn’t believe you were going back and forth about a subject such as marriage. Wouldn’t the average person be overjoyed to be proposed to by their longtime lover?! Ah, but you should kick yourself for expecting things to go normally. Zandik was certainly not the average person. 

“Okay, then how about the fact that I want to marry you, Zandik? Nothing more, nothing less. It’s solely what I want. That’s all.” You didn’t realize your voice had risen in volume until after the fact, and you immediately winced at his expression. You probably looked so dumb, getting so worked up over something like this. 

But indeed, you were sure Dottore could see the selfish part of you now. Perhaps there was a part of you who felt guilty for being unable to express your love in the same ways you used to be able to due to your illness. A part of you who still felt terribly sorry for your lover, having to deal with your lackluster abilities. So perhaps by marrying Dottore, it would be a way of showing him how much you loved him, a simple yet clearly efficient act that would hopefully be sufficient enough for a while, until you were strong enough to do more extravagant things. But oh, you should have known better than that. You can’t get away like that, [Name]. So you quickly backtracked your words. There was no use in pushing this subject. And really, you were obviously quite content with the current state of the relationship. He loved you, you loved him. What more could you ask for, especially being the way you are now?

“You’re right, it’s dumb. Never mind,” you mumbled in a deflated manner, gaze falling downcast. “I’ll go now,” you tried to quickly excuse yourself and go hide in a corner, but Dottore’s sigh made you stop.

“[Name], come here,” he called you over to his lap. Although you wanted to just run out of the office, you knew that he would catch you before you could make any good distance, so it was probably best to just comply now. So you made your way to Dottore and sat down on his lap, his hands steadying you and pulling your back flush against his chest. One arm was secured around your tummy while the other stroked your cheek.

“[Name], you know I did not mean to offend you. I was simply curious as to your reasoning.”

“Mhm.” Oh, you were definitely mad at him from the way you refused to meet his eye. He sighed once again, and he knew there was only one way to fix this situation.

“Let us get married.” Those few words made you perk up in his lap and practically swing around, your chest now pressed against his.

“Really?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “But why?”

“Yes, really. And for why… think of it as indulging my curiosity while simultaneously making my soon-to-be partner happy. It does interest me to see if our attitudes to each other will change after marriage.” Really, the bigger part of the picture was that he didn’t want you to sulk or be mad at him, he preferred to see you smiling. But he didn’t need to say that part out loud. And he couldn’t anyway because, in the next instant, you kissed him hard before launching into a whole speech.

“Oh, I promise, it won’t even be anything big! I know you don’t like big fancy gatherings, so it could just be the two of us! And maybe the Tsaritsa I think, because we still need the person to officiate it or whatever, but I promise it won’t be a hassle! Trust me, you’re going to enjoy it okay?” You spoke so fast he was surprised you didn’t trip over your words. As quick as you spoke, you pecked his cheeks before hopping off his lap and out the door, muttering something about getting help from Columbina.

…Well, it was a good thing that you were still full of surprises, Dottore thought.

—

“And so the raven and the butterfly promised to join together in an act of union, although their lives were already heavily intertwined. Soon, there would be truly nothing that could sever their bond of love. But the raven still needed a bit of help understanding the importance of such an official union.”

By now, news of his wedding had spread. Not to the underlings, no, he did not want to listen to their gossiping every corner he turned. But rather all of the Harbingers knew of the event. Most of them were completely baffled but had the decency to send their well wishes. For you, mostly. Not for him. And then there were others who wanted to intrude on his business badly. Namely Pantalone. He was the first to wish him, and the first to curse him if he hurt you in any way. 

And now he was the first to badger him on his marriage. Apparently, he believed that he wasn’t trying hard enough, as he left all the details and organization to you. Dottore didn’t really see the problem. He was letting you live your dream, and you were perfectly fine without his input. But Pantalone clearly had a problem with this.

“Dear Doctor, you truly are an idiot sometimes.” Dottore paused his writing.

“Excuse me?”

“Your lack of attention is one thing, but do you think that showing up in bloody clothes is acceptable?” He was probably the kind of person to finish a surgery and then head straight to the wedding right after. Dottore glanced at his arms and indeed, there were some dried blood stains that he had yet to change out of. But he scoffed at the banker, he may not care much for social etiquette, but even he knew the basics.

“Obviously I would wear clean clothes,” he clarified.

“I’m sure you would,” Pantalone replied calmly and sarcastically. “But my point still stands, as you clearly have no idea how serious this is.” Dottore was partially offended by Pantalone’s words. The piles of notebooks about you surely showed how much he knew and understood you.

“[Name] would be happy regardless of what I do. Besides, the ceremony is only for an hour or so. Perhaps even less.”

“Yes, they would be,” he sighed. “I don't think I'll ever understand how that poor thing tolerates you. But just think about this,” he began pacing around the room as if he didn’t subtly insult the doctor. “Of course, I’m sure I barely know the faintest thing about [Name]’s past, but when was the last time you’ve seen them so eager to get all dressed up? So excited for something, hmm?” Dottore crossed his arms and began to thoughtfully consider his co-worker’s words. 

Indeed, you were practically bouncing and glowing with every footstep you took. Really, to think something like this could make you so happy. Perhaps this was another example of how his brain worked differently from yours. You had marked the day on your calendar and the first thing you did when you woke up every morning was count the days until the ceremony. You were also far more affectionate, being in your “honeymoon phase” as you called it. 

Every so often, Columbina, who was also covering the expense for you, would barge into the lab with countless clothes and designers who would customize an outfit for you. Dottore didn’t quite understand or particularly enjoy your friendship, but he couldn’t deny he liked hearing you laugh and smile, so he let it slide. Of course, neither he nor the segments were allowed to see as you insisted it would remain a surprise until the wedding. Zandy was excluded from this rule though.

“It may be only a mere hour, but surely the Doctor is capable enough to make his soon-to-be spouse happy in that short time. Even your own segments know better,” Pantalone continued with a smile still on his face. “I’ll even choose the outfit for you, as I’m sure you have nothing of the sort in that dreadful closet of yours.” And yes, Dottore often showed up to balls and gatherings in his same clothes, ignoring the fact they were usually formal occasions. For your sake, he really wasn’t going to let the Doctor show up to your wedding looking like… that. 

Although Dottore didn’t appreciate Regrator’s passive-aggressive words, he was beginning to understand and he hated that the man was right. Pantalone took Dottore’s silence as a sign that he had won.

“So we have a deal then?”

“Fine,” Dottore grumbled. Ah, the lengths he’d go for you…

“Splendid. I’m sure [Name] will be positively ecstatic by this. Also, the Mora will be coming out of your funding budget.”

“...What?”

—

“At long last, the raven and the butterfly swore themselves to each other, promising to allow nothing to come between their love.”

The date of your wedding had come, and Dottore had barely seen you. Yes, you had been whisked off by Columbina early in the morning to prepare for the ceremony. But he would see you soon enough.

True to his word, Pantalone had provided a suit that fit him rather well. (He could only hope that it didn’t dent his budget too much, though.) As he got ready, he wondered how you would look. He could only assume that Columbina was going to make you look your very best. Although Dottore always thought the tradition of two spouses not showing their outfits to each other until the day of the wedding was stupid, he was beginning to see the appeal of anticipation. Like after when he’s working on an experiment and the only way to progress is to wait. Actually, he thought the concept of marriage was stupid in the first place, but here he was anyway. And he never thought he would ever find himself wearing a suit, but look at him now. Ah, you really did change him, don’t you?

The venue was Zapolyarny Palace of course. There was no better place. Not only was the inside of it quite beautiful, it was the home of the Tsaritsa who would be conducting the ceremony. The wedding was to be a very private thing, with only you, him, and the God in attendance. You both preferred it that way, wanting the moment to be between only you two. So when Dottore arrived at the grand hall, he expected it to be empty, but the Tsaritsa was there before him, already standing at the altar. A smile appeared on her face once she saw him.

“My dear Harbinger, there you are,” she waved him over and he soon found himself standing next to the Archon. 

“Your Highness,” Dottore nodded his head as a form of respect while the Tsaritsa continued to hum in delight.

“Why, you look quite dashing today. I know [Name] will be overjoyed once they see you.” The Tsaritsa had been rooting for you two for a long time, and now it had finally officially come to fruition. Dottore chuckled at her words.

“I would hope so. This is the first time they’ve seen me in such attire. Speaking of, where are they?”

“They will be here soon. Columbina is fussing over them a lot. But you, are you excited Dottore?” The scholar mulled over her words. Perhaps excited was a stretch, but he was indeed looking forward to it. Perhaps it was the act of making you happy that brought him more joy than the actual marriage. Perhaps the idea of seeing the ring on your finger brought him a certain sense of possessiveness knowing others could see his claim on you. Perhaps the idea of kissing you until you couldn’t take it anymore after the wedding was appealing as well.

…Alright, maybe he was excited. The Tsaritsa seemed to notice his inner conflict.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to answer. I know exactly how my Harbinger feels about this all, anyway,” the Cryo Archon sent a knowing look to her subject, to which Dottore internally cursed himself for showing those emotions. But at that moment a door swung open and a chorus of giggles echoed into the room. Columbina’s face peered through the door before she swiftly hid herself again.

“Oh! Looks like we’ve kept them waiting.”

“Huh, Dottore is there already?”

“Yes, dear [Name], now it’s your time to shine~” There was a shuffle of feet and movement in the other room, but he could not see it as you were not near the doorway.

“W-wait! Are you sure I look okay? What if something is messed up or-”

“Darling, you’re worrying far too much. I bet Il Dottore himself will be left speechless by your beauty.”

“But- but, I don’t know, what if he doesn’t- ah, hey!” Your words were abruptly cut off as Columbina practically shoved you out of the room, nearly making you trip and then slamming the door shut with only a “good luck!” You scowled at your friend’s ill but well-intentioned treatment before immediately straightening up, knowing that the Tsaritsa and your soon-to-be husband could now see you.

And then your eyes landed on your Zandik. He was stunning. Well, he was always stunning to you, but his beauty could surely not be described by your limited vocabulary right now. The suit hugged him so perfectly, going so well with his mask. Perhaps it was because it was such a special day, but everything about him just seemed to stand out more than usual.

Little did you know, Dottore was similarly entranced by you, immediately raking his eyes over your figure and analyzing every part of you. Only that he did not outwardly show it unlike you, who stood there comically with your mouth agape. Dottore had always thought you were the most beautiful being to come into Teyvat. Not even the Gods could hold a candle to your beauty, which was certainly a high standard to meet, but you exceeded it. Perhaps it was blasphemous to compare a mere human to an almighty God, but he felt no remorse in speaking the truth.

“Dearest [Name], you look as beautiful as freshly fallen snow,” the Tsaritsa’s praise snapped you out of your stupefied daze and you composed yourself once again.

“T-thank you, Your Highness,” you gratefully accepted the praise, and then realized they were looking at you expectantly. Especially Dottore. His gaze didn’t leave you for one second as you hurried to the altar. Somehow, as you stood across from him, you were a bit embarrassed to meet his gaze. The jitters were finally settling in.

“We are gathered here today to witness the joining of [Name] and Zandik. Two people who have displayed undying love for each other for centuries,” the Archon began, sending soft looks to the two of you, and then nudging your arm to finally meet the gaze of your lover. So you hesitantly lifted your face to make eye contact with Dottore. There he stood, a smile stretched on his face.

The smile was composed of many things. Naturally, it reflected his usual assured self-confidence with a hint of a smirk. But more importantly, it contained something more real, more soft, that even you had only seen very occasionally. Although it was veiled under many layers that left it hard to see, you could see it was a smile of love. That made you grow a bit warm, and you couldn’t help the smile that crept up on your lips. 

“These two have been through the unthinkable together, and yet their bonds remain unbreakable, their love everlasting. Although they do not need marriage to prove how deep their love is for each other, today they will make it official.” The Tsaritsa kept her words short and sweet. She knew either of you did not care for all of the long, boring, drawn-out details. You two just really wanted to get married. And it was better for you to profess your vows in private. She knew her Harbinger would hold his words back in her presence. She then turned to you and asked the question you saw coming, motioning for you two to hold hands. Dottore still wore gloves, but this pair was thinner than his usual ones.

“Do you take Zandik to be your husband? To love and cherish him above all else?”

“I do,” you replied with no hesitation. The God then turned to Dottore.

“Do you take [Name] to be your spouse? To love and cherish them regardless of what may happen?”

“I do,” you could see his shark teeth peeking out from his mouth. The Tsaritsa nodded in acknowledgment of the answers.

“By the power vested within me as the Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon of Snezhnaya, I now pronounce you as a lawfully wedded couple,” the Tsaritsa said seriously before she switched to a more lighthearted tone. “You may now kiss,” she smiled at the two of you. And then Dottore leaned in for the kiss first, catching you off guard but you eagerly reciprocated. You had intended for it to be a short but sweet kiss, considering the Tsaritsa was right there, but it seemed like Dottore had other plans, as he deepened the kiss. Highly aware of the Cryo God’s amused stare, you tried to mumble a protest against your sealed lips and gripped your husband’s suit harder to get him to stop embarrassing you. But this only made the Archon laugh.

“It is always lovely to see a couple so passionately in love. How beautiful,” the Tsaritsa grinned, giving her last blessing before Dottore finally pulled away from you. “But, I will not intrude on the newlyweds' time any longer. Please, I hope you enjoy the rest of the day, and may it remain eternal in your memories,” the Tsaritsa smiled knowingly at the two of you before making her exit. She was indeed the God of Love. Only you and your new husband remained in the spacious hall now, and a silence swept into the room. Well, what does one say or do after getting married?

“Zandik-”

“Ah ah, we still have one thing to do.” He then produced two boxes presumably with rings inside.

“Oh! The rings!” You had forgotten about that until now, with all of the things that had happened.

“Give me your hand, dear.” Oh, it always gave you butterflies when he called you a pet name. He was really in a good mood. You stuck out your hand and he popped the box open, revealing a gorgeous ring, a dazzling blue jewel in the center. You were definitely going to end up with a sore lip, from how much you were biting it to stop smiling so hard. Dottore then slipped the ring onto your finger with ease, a perfect fit of course. It was no surprise he knew your measurements without having to ask. But now it was your turn. 

You fiddled with his ring in your hand. It was a lot simpler than your one, probably because he did not care much for such extravagance on himself, and he would most likely keep it stored away rather than on his finger for obvious reasons. He definitely did not want the blood of a random person dirtying it…

With bated breath, you tenderly grasped his fingers and slipped the band onto him. It was done, and you were incredibly pleased.

“My husband,” you smiled.

“My darling,” he reciprocated your affections and was about to speak again when you suddenly launched yourself at him, hugging him with as much strength as you could muster.

“You’re mine, all mine. My husband,” you repeated the words as they felt so good on your tongue. Your husband wrapped an arm around you, stroking your hair.

“I have always been yours,” he replied like this was old news. But if becoming your husband would help solidify that for you, then this was well worth it, Dottore thought. “And you have always been mine. It will never change.” He felt you smile and giggle into his chest before you pulled away, a truly happy expression on your face.

“See? I was true to my word, wasn’t I? Quick and simple, just the two of us. You liked it, didn’t you?” Oh, you were just begging for praise now. But he would entertain you, just for today.

“Indeed, it was an efficient ceremony. But I’d say the best part was seeing you like this,” Dottore commented as he ran his hands over your chest, admiring the smaller details about your attire and how well it hugged you. “Very alluring,” he rumbled. You ignored the heat rising up your body as you returned the compliment.

“Well, I could say the same thing about you, love. I would have never guessed you would have greeted me in such an outfit,” you traced your fingers over his tie, resisting the urge to yank on it to kiss him. That could wait for later because right now you were shamelessly staring at him in it.

“Well, I can assure you that you’ll have another chance to further examine me later,” he chuckled at your prying gaze, “but for now, give me your hand.” You looked at him questioningly but agreed when he pulled you closer yet again.

“Did you know? It is customary for newlyweds to dance at their weddings. That is something you would enjoy, no?”

“Oh! I’d love to! But we don’t know how to dance, do we?” Dottore grinned widely, his pointy teeth nipping his lip, making you question him.

“Wait, you know how to dance?”

“Of course. Being a Harbinger means acquiring a vast variety of skills.”

“You never told me that!”

“You never asked.”

“Well, it’s not something I would normally ask you! You should have told me,” you huffed. 

“Now I’m going to look dumb, with my lack of dancing skills compared to you.” Your husband chuckled.

“Do not fret. I will guide you.” He raised your already clasped hands higher until you two were in basic form. Well, as best as you could, because there was not only your inexperience, but your illness made it hard to keep up such a stance. 

And you two danced. If it could be called dancing, considering the amount of time you stepped on his feet or even tripped, along with the multitude of apologies. But it didn’t matter. It was fun, and your laughter rang out loudly in the grand hall. It didn’t matter that it came to a point when your feet couldn’t handle it anymore, you still let yourself be twirled and adored by your new husband, enjoying the first delight of being married.

—

“The hearts of the raven and butterfly were undeniably together as one, which led to great joy for the two of them.”

Alright, you had to admit it. Dottore was right. Outwardly, it seemed like nothing much had changed about your relationship. Life was really the same routine. Your illness and his duties still existed after all. But that was okay! Change does not need to be seen to occur. Perhaps the change happened within you both. Your heart was certainly lighter now. But it would certainly make you happier to partake in some more “domestic” activities, now that you two were a married couple. Though you obviously weren’t going to bring that up to your husband. He already has enough to do, after all! Still working on the cure to your illness too, without rest…

… 

…Well, you shouldn’t think about it too much! You should believe in your husband, no matter what happens. And speaking of, it seemed like your wish for domesticity would be granted without you asking, for one day Dottore came to you with a request.

“[Name], I require your assistance.” Those few words had you immediately intrigued because it was rare that Dottore asked you for your help since most of the stuff he needed help with was far beyond your ability now. Naturally, you were eager to please him.

“I need you to help me…” you held your breath in anticipation, “cook.” 

Huh? In disbelief, you could not help but repeat his words.

“You want me to help you cook? Like a meal?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Dottore replied, dead serious. You had to hold back your laughter.

“But… why?” Dottore let out a sigh and rubbed his temples.

“Regrator has forced my hand into doing frivolous nonsense for the sake of his games once again. What happened was…” Dottore then went on to explain the conversation he had with the Ninth Harbinger. Apparently, they had gotten into one of their usual prickly discussions, and somehow it had turned into a list of things the other could not do, and cooking had been brought up. Of course, not wanting to appear inferior to the other Harbinger (who was surprisingly a decent cook) declared himself as an okay one too. Pantalone, who loved to be as petty as possible when it came to his co-worker (and could probably detect the lie anyway), requested him to demonstrate his skills to him. If he was a good cook like he claimed, then it would surely be no issue, right? He wouldn’t mind putting his budget on the line, right?

Now, this was one of the very few times Dottore regretted lying for the sake of his goals. That was definitely worth a long laugh, you thought, as you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore. Dottore was not amused in the slightest. But then you had a thought. You wondered if Pantalone did this on purpose so that you could enjoy the domestic life with your husband. He was very perceptive when it came to these things after all. Maybe you were reaching with that but… you thanked him silently anyway.

“So your plan is to have me help you cook, and then pass it off as if you did all of it? Well, I certainly won’t say no. But I worry for you… I still remember what happened in the Akademiya.” You don’t want to think about the dreadful times of Zandik ruining the dorm’s kitchen when he tried to cook.

“It will be alright. I will follow your lead.” Oh, being in charge of Dottore for a few hours? Well, now you really couldn’t pass up this opportunity. 

For the dish, you had decided to go with something you were familiar with. Samosas. You remember making them for Zandik quite often in the Akademiya. In fact, it was the first dish you cooked for him and one of the things that won him over. Those were good times.

Although, your hands were still not the best at dealing with stuff in the kitchen. They were shaky and you could possibly hurt yourself. So instead you decided to guide him through the technical part of the process. Thankfully, Dottore’s expertise with a scalpel came in handing while cutting ingredients. So that part wasn’t too hard. You just had to ignore how your body warmed when you had to place your hands over his to show him how to properly do it.

Surprisingly, he was rather non-combative as you instructed him what to do, the spices to add, how to mix and add the ingredients, and whatnot. It was rather cute, really, to see him try so hard. The only problem was that he still fucking blew it, smoke filling the room (you had no idea how that could happen) and you had to do it yourself (with him standing protectively next to you as if the food and fire were going to jump out and attack you.) 

At least shaping and rolling out the dough was a less challenging task for him… though it seemed like he lacked the patience and delicateness needed for the rest of it, so he opted to rest his hands around your waist, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he observed your handiwork. It was a little bit crooked, considering your shaky hands, but far better than whatever Dottore was doing. And although you welcomed the weight of his chest pressed against your back, you weren’t really sure why he continued to look since this wasn’t all that interesting.

“Dottore, you know you don’t need to stay? I can tell you when the samosas are done, I know you’re busy.” Your husband seemed to playfully ponder your words.

“I’d prefer to observe the skillfulness of my spouse.” The fact that he wanted to stay with you made you smile.

“From this position of all? Mhm, sure thing,” you hummed in amusement as his arms tightened around you.

The domestic life was a good one.

(Pantalone took one look at the samosas and instantly knew the Doctor could have never made them, but did not say a word, for his goal had been accomplished.)

After that, strangely enough, there were a few more events that you would consider “domestic.” They weren’t frequent, no, but you wouldn’t say they were thinly sparse. One of your favorites had just been a few days ago.

“Eh? You want to… read a book with me?” You had absolutely no idea why Dottore suddenly entered your room as night fell with only that request. You were surprised by this as he never took an interest in your novels. Although you took an interest in his scientific texts every now and then, you still preferred your silly fictional novels. It was nice to escape to another world. But that wasn’t the point right now.

“That’s correct.”

“But why?”

“Why not? Is it so strange that I want to learn more about what occupies my lover’s time so much?”

“Well… no,” you admitted. You were caught off guard at first, but of course, you’d happily agree. “Okay, you can choose any book you want,” you motioned to your shelves which was home to numerous other things than books as well. Dottore looked at the variety of books you had before choosing one at random, wiping the dust off. You two then got comfortable in bed, your back pressed snugly against his chest as he held the book open in front of you. Looking at the title, you couldn’t seem to remember what this one was about, so it would definitely be nice to reread it with your husband. 

As he began to read the first few pages, your mind began to recall bits and pieces of the book. And that’s when it hit you. You remember this book had a… particularly passionate kissing scene right at the very beginning that had your face a little hot the first time you read it. Oh, you definitely did not want Dottore to know that! Why did he have to choose this book out of all the ones there? At this realization, you began to grow antsy between his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just realized, we should probably stop reading this book.”

“Why?” 

“Um, you see, this is actually the second book in the series. So we need to read the first book first in order to understand it.” The poor excuse flew off your tongue.

“Where is this first book, then?”

“Well, I don’t own it…”

“So you read the second book without reading the first?”

“Erm, yes, I did actually… and I’m warning you now so you aren’t confused like I was! It’s for your own sake.” Okay, now you had dug yourself in a hole because that was obviously a blatant lie.

“You’re hiding something,” Dottore observed after blankly staring at you for a few moments, before swiftly moving the book out of your reach and flipping through the pages, to which you protested obviously giving yourself away. But it was too late.

“Oh? What do we have here?” He quickly scanned a few pages, his grin only growing larger and larger as you hid your face. But Dottore found it extremely amusing if anything.

“Why, I would have never thought this is the kind of stuff you read. Perhaps there is more that I don’t know about you than I thought,” he teased, causing a loud groan to emit from you. A part of you wondered if he planned this, from the way he was already moving in to nip at your earlobe.

“Tell me, did you come in here because you actually wanted to read or just tease me?” You pouted as he cupped your chin, bringing you close for a kiss, to which you happily reciprocated, albeit a bit peeved.

“I guess you’ll never know,” Dottore smirked before enveloping you in his arms and pushing you down onto the bed, capturing your lips once again. “But I am curious to find out how realistic those scenes could be.”

Needless to say, a lot more kissing than reading got done that day.

—

“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”

Ah. The time had flown by rather quickly, Nahida thought. Already she was nearly at the end of this tale, despite how lengthy it was. For some reason, that always seemed to happen whenever she tried to retell this particular chronicle. But now, she was ready once again to see this story to the very end, as always.

However, her gentle heart still cannot help but feel a little bit of pity for the two of you, knowing how this tale ends.

[deadsetobsessions]

Pt. 4

Sorry this took so long. In the hospital still. Out of the hospital now!

For @unadulteratedsoulsweets

——

It had been early in the morning when she’d stepped foot in the manor. It was closer to noon, now, that found the reincarnation attentively sitting in one of the (if she remembered correctly from the blue prints) three massive kitchens located in Wayne manor.

She sat atop one of the island stools Damian had ushered her into, spaced a comfortable distance from the man that was her biological father in this life. Her mask dangled at her hip, a comfort she indulged in after unpacking her things. In truth, she’s had cookies before, but it had been so long since she’s tasted it that she might as well have never tried it before. Damian and Alfred Pennyworth worked with maximum efficiency, measuring out flour and sugar and chocolate like there were no tasks more important than this.

Alfred Pennyworth also avoided a specific cabinet that smelled slightly of metal polish and gun powder. It was kept away from the perishables.

Perhaps the manor was smaller and much more homely than the palace, but the reincarnate could see the sense in and approved of the various well-hidden caches of weapons around. Meant for non-lethal take downs, of course, but anything can be lethal if you tried hard enough. Or, considering the vigilante filled manor she had agreed to vacation in, anything could be lethal if one did not try hard enough to keep it non lethal.

The scrape of a spoon drew her attention back to Damian, waving away the off topic musings her mind had wandered into now that a large portion of her brain power was freed from the duty of fear.

She tracked how Damian existed within this space he had so clearly made for himself. He was… happier. Kinder. More. More at ease, more settled into his skin instead of where he stretched it to fit the cast of the Demon’s Heir. Simply, more. He was more Damian than he had been in the league.

When Damian was locked within the walls of the palace, his shoulders were always held straight. There’d been a- not quite darkness- cruelty in his eyes and gait that their grandfather had eagerly nurtured. His chin had remained lifted, his actions closed and callous. She’d feared, for while, that Damian would follow their grandfather’s footsteps. Until the day she saw him sneak a bird into his room to heal, her heart had trembled and grieved to see someone she loved imitate the worst parts of her abuser. It didn’t change the fact that she loved him, but it changed how she taught him.

But experience is a better teacher than she will ever be, and Damian had little chance to experience true kindness in the pits of the league.

Here, Damian is light. Perhaps less aware than he normally would have been, on the look out for fatal attacks as she had trained him to be within the league, but here he is free and safe and relaxed. It feels like she’s sitting in a haze, the chirps of birds and the clouded noon sun casting everything into an unreal light.

“Ukhti, assistance is requested.” Her brother holds out a bowl of dough. Her heart hurt with how happy it was. She squished the dough between her fingers like a child rediscovering her childhood. In some ways, she was.

——

As she watched Damian, in turn the others observed her. Bruce sat beside her, cataloguing every minuscule expression of his child, the first and the eldest, in an attempt to make up for lost time. And truly, it was minuscule. For all Bruce trained in micro-expressions and movements, his eldest- god, he had another daughter, the eldest- daughter remained a mystery from which he gleaned little of. Her face never lifted from that trained neutrality, having resettled back into it after first bite of b’stilla. He cradled the mug of coffee in his hands, the tang of grief and guilt roiling in his stomach as his daughter hesitantly but skillfully rolled a ball of dough.

“Pennyworth has divulged his secrets to me.” Damian plucked the ball from his sister’s hand, who allowed it with traces of… bemusement, perhaps? His eldest daughter flicked her eyes up in question, perhaps mildly amused. Even if she had more than two decades worth of training, Bruce was frustrated that he could not read her. She was his daughter.

Already he fails her. For too long, he had failed her.

“He chills the dough for a chewier cookie. I, and some of the others with adequate taste, prefer this texture. But which would you find adequate?”

His daughter flickered through that sign language again, the one he had no knowledge of. Considering he knew multiple from each continent, that was saying a lot. He was catching a few repeated signs, but nothing concrete.

Alfred waited patiently as they had their conversation, paying sharp attention to their motions. Bruce… felt like he was sitting next to Cassandra. He supposed they were the same, except his eldest daughter hadn’t gotten free.

“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.” Damian grumbled, resting his hands on the counter, making sure to keep it away from his meticulously clean clothes. “We’ll cook them immediately.”

Bruce, in a fit of inspired parenting, offered a compromise.

“We could do two batches. One for right now and save a batch for later.”

Unspoken were the words ‘so she can try the cookies now.’ Despite the silent nature of his intent, Bruce thought that Alfred and Damian understood anyways.

“A fine suggestion, Master Bruce.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

——

She sensed them before she saw them. Her father had slipped out after his suggestion, no doubt intercepting his flock of traumatized orphans before they could pile in.

Perhaps she had inherited something from Bruce Wayne after, considering how many of them she’d taken under her wing. She rolled the ball of dough between oiled fingers in a haze. Faint memories, impressions of a life long faded, guided her hands as she smooshed the cookies to her preference.

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Al-Ghul?”Alfred Pennyworth asked her.

‘A Pennyworth for my thoughts?’ She swapped sign language, eyes slyly watching for Damian’s reaction.

Damian, right on cue, clicked his tongue, looking defeated. Alfred, on the other hand, smiled wider.

“A Pennyworth for your thoughts indeed.”

Her humor faded into something softer. Longing. Melancholy.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve made dessert for myself.’

She glanced at Damian, who was trying his best to pretend like he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation lest he caught another stray pun. ‘Or used it to inoculate poisons.’

“I see.” The butler patted his hands dry onto a towel, a sharp eye on Damian’s efforts at covering the dough meant for freezing. “I assure you that these cookies will remain poison free, have no worries about that. Now, would you like some tea?”

She shook her head. ‘I’ll make it myself later. Thank you.’

“Very well, Miss-”

“Hi, Alfred. Making cookies?”

Her hands continued to work on her tray, placing cookie dough on the tray with military precision. Damian remained relaxed, though watchful of her reaction.

“That’s correct, Master Tim.”

Tim shuffled over to her, and she turned. Ah, her partial benefactor.

“Little photographer.” She smiled, slightly. Her eyes, however, were warm. Alfred stilled for a brief second at her voice.

“Hi. It’s been a while.” Tim plopped down on the seat next to her. His whole body screamed of nostalgia. It’s odd to see the little scrawny Bristol boy grow into a full fledged vigilante. It seemed like yesterday she was keeping him from slipping on Gotham’s manifestations of its rot and plummeting down on its stone heart.

She hummed. ‘Not too long.’

“What is that supposed to mean? When had you met Drake, recently?”

She glanced at the little- not so little- photographer.

“She helped me bring B back.” Tim lied. She didn’t like how easily he lied to Damian… but on account of her fondness for him, she let it slide.

“Did you, Miss Al-Ghul?” Alfred wiped his hands on the hand towel he carried. “Then I suppose we owe you our sincere thanks.”

She blinked slowly.

‘I didn’t do much. I kept him alive just the once.’

“That is a harder task than one might think, Miss Al-Ghul. Master Tim has, arguably, the worst self preservation instincts out of the life risking vigilantes I have known.” And he has known many, Alfred seemed to imply.

She tilted her head in acknowledgement.

“Hey! What is this? Gang up on Tim day?”

“I would participate in that even if it wasn’t,” Damian stated, packing the frozen cookies away in the corner. “Come and help, Drake. My ukht is about to have her first cookies and we will bake it to perfection. Bring the tray.”

Tim scoffed but slid the tray away from her, Alfred seamlessly dropping a napkin for her to wipe off the dough from her fingertips.

“Thanks, by the way. For saving Z and Owens.”

‘They were my assassins. Even if you did manage to sway them to your cause.’ She tapped the marble island, before opening her mouth. “Thank you. For destroying his pit options. It helped me kill Ra’s.”

In her peripherals, Damian settled back, disgruntled but willing to rest his curiosity as gratitude towards Tim’s part in her freedom overrode his need for answers.

Tim stilled. “…What are friends for, right?”

‘Of course, little photographer.’ She relaxed as her, arguably first, friend and now brother popped the tray into the oven.

“Anyways, they sent me in here to see if you’re ready to meet the rest of them.”

“And they said that?” Damian scoffed, coming around the island to stand beside her as she slipped off the stool.

“Nah, they actually wanted me to subtly vibe check her, but it’s not like she wouldn’t catch me doing it.”

“Ukhti’s ‘vibes’ are perfectly fine,” Damian said crabbily, crossing his arms defensively. She tapped the back of Damian’s neck and he relaxed.

‘Thank you for the… assessment of my character and general disposition.’ She signed dryly.

“Ugh, I should’ve made the connection. Your syntax is exactly like Damian’s.” Tim joked, dodging the punch Damian aimed at his nonexistent spleen.

The reincarnation huffed. ‘I spoke perhaps three words to you.’

“And how many people use disposition on a regular basis?”

“I do, Drake!”

“I know, Damian. That was the point, you little walking thesaurus.”

——

They left Alfred in the kitchen, the man all but shooing them away so he could get working on lunch, and made their way to a sitting room. The floor was covered in a plush blue carpet, a fact that made itself vividly present to the reincarnation when she placed her foot on it, the fabric brushing the back of her heels. She was too trained to allow the slip to visible, but for a microsecond, the memories of kneeling and choking clawed their way past her defenses. She made note of the trigger and moved on, compartmentalizing that fact for later.

“It’s you,” Nightwing breathed out, tensing. The others behind him freeze, even more alert than their regular state. Bruce whipped his head towards him, sharp and searching.

“Nightwing.” She greeted. She felt a kinship with this vigilante turned brother. She watched him soar and fall alongside the little photographer. She watched him grow new wings and watched them get tainted with blood and fear and grim hope. She lived vicariously through him, he who flew when she was chained. In some ways, she had ended up watching his back for a long time, both in yearning for the ease he was allowed at her father’s side and to protect the vulnerable back that knew not of its openness. Bruce inhaled deeply at her voice.

Dick stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. She does not disembowel him for it. Instead, she allowed the giant octopus hug her new oldest little brother gave her. There was no aggression in his countenance. Only relief and gratitude.

“You know Dick?” The little, ah, no, she doesn’t want to sound like Ra’s, Tim asked. Dick tensed, clearly unwilling to speak about it. She stepped in.

“I met him once. Eliminated a spider for him on a rooftop. I did not think he would remember.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on knowing who ukhti was?” Damian demanded, scowling. She immediately freed an arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. Damian ducked away with a rather petulant scowl. "Not because of my safety but because she crushed an arachnid for you?"

Dick nodded at him before looking up at her. “I really hated that spider. It was super scary. Thank you for getting rid of it.”

In lieu of an answer, she gently hugged him back.

“I get the feeling.” She said solemnly, voice coming out soft and borne of an implicit understanding. ‘Talk later,’ she signed to him.

“I was not aware you were afraid of spiders, ukht,” Damian muttered. “Though, Richard, I would believe.”

“Hey!”

Dick detached himself and pasted on a mostly genuine smile. “Oh! You should meet the others!”

He turned to the rest of Bruce Wayne’s wards and children to cheerfully point them out.

“This is Duke! He’s Alfred’s favorite grandkid, because he hasn’t burnt down the kitchen yet and reports when he’s injured.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you.” Duke Thomas raised a hand, smiling. “The bar was literally on the floor with you people. ‘Sides, Jason did just fine.”

The reincarnate nodded. Yes, she knew of him, though her memories were hazy. It had been over two decades, after all.

Dick steamrolled onwards. “This is Stephanie-”

“But you can call me Steph!” Stephanie Brown interjected, bouncing in her seat. Despite her bubbly demeanor, her gaze was sharp. Seeing. She liked that sharpness. It was tempered by the same rough and tumble kindness she’d seen in Grave- ah, Jason.

Spoiler, her memories reminded her. It was a soothing distraction from the anxious memories of the league. She found herself collecting little hints and information about this family. Her family, even if it were tentatively so. She caught Bruce staring at them intently, visibly anxious about this meeting.

‘A pleasure to meet you.’

“So… what do we call you?” Steph tilted her head. Hm. A tell Ra’s would have beaten out of her, had Stephanie had the misfortune of being in his presence for more than a day.

“Al Ghul will be adequate.” Damian cut in. The glance he threw her promised a discussion upon the topic of her name. Later, it promised.

“Wow. That’s kind of impersonal though.”

“Steph!”

“What?! I’m not wrong.”

“Anyways!” Dick loudly said over the two bickering kids. “That’s actually it for now.”

“The rest aren’t here as of this moment, but they’ll be around for dinner.”

A white lie. She studied Bruce for a moment before acquiescing. He meant no harm. Despite his capability to inflict harm, his willingness to do so, she could not read a single instance of ill will in him. Not, at least, towards her. She allowed the lie to slide.

‘I wish to see the grounds.’ She put a hand on Damian’s shoulder. He knew what it meant for her to retreat to the wilderness. Nature, where most things were free and where one does not often find Ra’s after he’d had a taste for luxury.

“We will go to the gardens. Ukhti wishes to explore.” Despite the rather curt way he pronounced it, Damian had stepped closer to her side in a gesture of concern. The pit inside of her stomach eased.

“Sounds good! Let’s go!” Steph bounced out of her seat.

“We could tell you stories,” Tim offered from behind her.

“Yeah, like that one time Dick face planted onto one of Poison Ivy’s flower beds because he was distracted by an ice cream truck.” Duke grinned, eyes crinkling.

“Hey! That ice cream truck was full of Scarecrow thugs!”

“And they weren’t worth an Ivy-lecture. I’m surprised she didn’t skin you and make a pot out of your bones, Dick.” Tim yawned.

“Ooo, we should tell her about the time I hit you in the face with a brick!”

“Literally what more is there to that story, Steph?” Tim grumbled.

“I would like to hear this tale,” Damian said, beginning to tug his ukht towards the garden. The rest of the group followed.

“Actually, why don’t we tell her about the time you tried getting Batcow to the barn and he just sat down? Didn’t you bargain with her for an hour, Damian?”

“Tt!”

Duke leaned back and took in the chaos he unfolded with a twinkling grin and Bruce’s sigh bolstering him. And if their newest and oldest addition to the family relaxed in his chaos, well, that was between him and her.

——

Cassandra found her in the gardens, the both of them weaving in between the foliage like light footed cats. Her contingent of Bats were behind them, watching the two former assassins approach each other.

Cassandra had frozen, mirroring the reincarnator’s stillness.

“Ukhti.” The word was torn out of Cass’ throat, filled with tears and relief.

“Cassandra,” she called, fond and kind and loving. Damian’s eyes darted between his sisters. They knew each other. How? She called his ukht, ukhti. A title he had assumed only he could use.

Cassandra scrambled and launched herself at her, silent sobs shaking her frame.

“Hello, Cass,” she caught the flying vigilante, crushing her first little sister into a tight hug. “Freedom suits you, habibti.”

Cass trembles in her arms, hands clutching at the fabric on her shoulder blades like Damian’s. Her eyes softened, and she rested her chin on Cass’s head.

“You know Cassandra too, ukhti?”

She nodded.

“Ukhti named me.” Cass said, voice wobbly. ‘Cass. Cassandra.’ Cass did her name sign. The one she had taught the slip of a girl back when Cass was stuck in a senseless prison and she was only free in terms of movement.

‘First word too.’ She smiled, proud of Cass and how far she’s come. Cassandra reads the pride in her language, the safety and kindness that she’d never forgotten even after traversing the world for years before arriving home, and she burrowed deeper into the hug.

“Oh. I see.”

“Two ukhts.” She smiled at Damian.

Cass shook her head, but before Damian could settle into his hurt at her supposed rejection, Cass explained her confusion. “Ukhti is your name? I’m Cass.”

“Ukhti means older sister.” Damian informed her.

Cass blinked and looked back at the reincarnation. Her shoulders relaxed and drew back, eyes softening and body loosened from its confusion. She smiled, bright as the sun, and deftly clambered around to perch on her older sister’s back.

“Two.” She declared. And truly, the reincarnation was weak to her younger siblings because that was that. Cass declared it so, and it shall be so. Damian grumbled but seemed like they agreed.

“How did you two meet?” Bruce piped up, intent and surprisingly considerate.

“Saved me,” Cass sighed, resting her chin on her ukht’s head. ‘From father and the league. Taught me to speak, a little. My name. Cass. Taught me..’ Cass paused. “Taught me I am not a weapon.”

The former assassin carrying Cass on a piggy back ride hummed in agreement.

“Oh.” The rest of the family glanced at each other. Dick had his shiny teary eyes on, the ones he got when Jason initiated a hang out.

“Not a weapon,” Cass repeated, pressing firmly on her ukht’s head.

A less sure hum. Cass scowled.

“No. Bad,” Cass scolded. “Not a weapon.”

An acquiescing hum, full of fondness and exasperation.

Cassandra Cain will take that answer. For now.

“You named Cass?” Duke asked. Bruce looked at them with gentle eyes.

“After a heroine I knew.” She replied, shifting. Cass hugged her tighter, intently listening. “She was strong. Lethal if need be. But… kind. She had an inherently kind heart. Full of love. Like Cass.”

“Oh, that’s really.. that’s really sweet.”

Cass hugged her ukht closer, touched. She had never known why she had been given the name, but finding out that it was after a heroine her sister looked up to made the day that much brighter. Hopeful. Honored.

“You have not told me this story,” Damian said.

‘I will. One day.’

——

Jason found her at the lunch table. Along with the rest of the brood. Except for, jarringly, an alien named Jarro.

“He’s our alien brother!” Duke said. He smiled, and it was a smile of unassuming harmlessness. A well crafted mask that she knew better than to be fooled by.

She offered three long blinks that had Cassandra, stuck like a limpet on the reincarnator’s back, muffling a laugh.

“Telling truth,” Cass whispered, sentences punctuated by giggles.

She hummed, shifting to more securely carry Cass on her back. Damian sighed and dutifully carried Cassandra’s pack. She smiled at her little brother, who straightened. Adorable. All of her siblings were adorable. She would kill for them. Ah, right. They frown upon murder here. So had she, once. Before Ra’s broke that part of her heart and forced her hands to commit evils that grew gnarled vines through her very soul.

“Oh.” She blinked.

“Hm?”

“Killing is… a choice.” The conversations around them fell silent. Cass’ arms tightened around her shoulders.

“We don’t have to do it, anymore,” Damian agreed. Yes, he understood what it was like, to be raised to kill and suddenly having the option not to.

“Did you not want to kill, before?” Bruce asked, suddenly a bit closer. Her mind was slipping, she realized. It felt… safe, to slip.

‘If I did not,’ she admitted, like throwing stones off of a lock-laden bridge. ‘Damian would bear the consequences.’

She sounded… young. Afraid. Two things she had always been and were never allowed to be.

Bruce Wayne looked at her like his heart was breaking, like he wished he could shoulder her pain on top of the weight of the world he willingly carried since his parents died. This, she is reminded, was why she swore Damian to secrecy regarding her existence. She wondered if he had ever taken the burden of more grief than he could bear.

‘And I could not say no, regardless,” she told them, absent and tired.

She wondered if she would be the one to break him, should she allow him a glimpse of the scars on her back.

“I could have taken it.” Damian grabbed her arm, clutching at her sleeve once more.

“No,” she whispered, haunted. ‘Not while I drew breath, habibi.’

“You don’t have to kill here. We’re all very good with no murder.” Tim reminded her firmly.

“Unless it’s the Joker.” Steph chimed in, bubbly smile gentled into something kinder.

“Unless it’s him.” Duke agreed. His eyes were more serious now.

“No,” Bruce replied, tired. Heavier, in a way that made sour tang of guilt scratch the back of her tongue. She hadn’t meant to give him the weight of knowledge, but she had inadvertently done so with the things she had and hadn’t said. He wasn’t the world’s- she glanced at Tim, who quirked a smile at her- second best detective for no reason.

“Yes, but you’re not ready for that conversation.” Dick snapped, lightheartedly.

Ah. That’s what was off.

They’re kind. They choose to be and they inherently are kind.

It showed. And she wasn’t used to that.

“Lunch.” Cassandra reminded them. She was a solid, grounding presence at the reincarnator’s back.

“Oh, Jason said he’s on the way.” Duke commented, nodding when she quickly did a subtle thank you sign.

“Why does he text you and not me?” Dick whined.

“Wow, man. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of the emoji wall you send?”

“They’re nice! How else are you supposed to know what I’m feeling, right, Cass?”

Cass nodded and gave a thumbs up from her place on ukhti’s back.

“See?!”

“I love you Cass, but you also use a wall of understandable emojis. Dick just spams them.” Steph retorted.

The reincarnator turned to Damian, a silent question in her eyes. He sighed. “Yes, the imbeciles argue all of the time.”

She nodded and the group made their way to the green house for lunch, bickering all the while.

When they get there, Jason Todd, along with Alfred Pennyworth were already at the table.

“Grave.” She greeted as Cass slipped off her back.

“Ain’t no fucking way, Trainer?” Jason leapt to his feet. It was odd, seeing him in casual clothes. Ra’s had kept him in armor most of the time.

“You know each other?”

“At this point, who doesn’t ukht know would be an easier question.” Damian grumbled. She tapped him on the head twice, a light reprimand.

‘Grave was part of your guard,’ she told him. ‘He protected you well.’

“You’re the demon brat’s older sister? That makes so much fucking sense.”

She felt her eyes go cold, lifting to stare at Grave’s rapidly paling face. He visibly backtracks.

“Uh- I mean, you’re Damian’s older sister?”

She regarded him for a beat longer before blinking, ice melting away at the change. The nickname chafed at her neck, too close from a fate she gave everything to save Damian from.

Her head dipped into a small nod.

“Wild.” Jason sat back down. “So, uh, how are you handling the pit?”

‘I am not.’ She informed him, settling down in her seat. Damian claimed the spot next to her and Cass quickly took the other, much to Bruce’s chagrin. Tim plopped down to the seat next to Cass, eyes zeroing onto the chamomile tea Alfred had set out for him.

Duke smiled at Bruce before sitting next to Jason, Steph skipping over and sitting next Dick and Jason at the same time.

“Ukhti managed to get rid of the side effects,” Damian informed the table at large.

Her little bat had the worst ability to make sure attention focused on her, the reincarnation groused. She sighed.

“How?” Clearly, Grave had forgotten how much she beat him into the sparring mat because he leaned forward to glare at her. Well, she hadn’t wanted him too afraid of her.

‘Magic.’

His face fell at the assumed non answer, but Damian’s nod had the entire table once more expectant.

She sighed and began weaving her magic.

——

She stalked through the shadows of the manor, at ease. Bruce and the others had left on patrol, hours ago. She was clad in her sleeping clothes, one of her less favored clothes. Her hands would get dirty again tonight but she was long past the point of lingering on those regrets.

“Miss al-Ghul,” Alfred turned as she stepped towards him, having made sure she made adequate noise as a forewarning. “Having a good night?”

She tilted her head, eyes inquisitively peering at the spotless china display behind the butler.

“Ah, you must be curious about the fine ceramics we have currently displayed,” Alfred smiled. “Would you be so kind as to indulge an old butler on this topic?”

She had an idea about the kind of gift Alfred Pennyworth would appreciate.

——

“Uh, whatcha got there?”

She blinked, pulling bloodied hands away from her clothes where she had been inspecting them. The assassin that caused the damage on her clothes laid beneath her feet, still and lifeless. She blinked again.

Nightwing, Dick, stood in front of her, freshly showered from his patrol.

Some form of long forgotten instinct rose from the dry rotted fabric of her faded memories had her responding, ‘A smoothie.’

“…That’s… not a smoothie,” Dick said as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “I’m pretty sure that’s an assassin?”

She shrugged. “He was after Damian. To force him into being the Demon’s head.” She paused. ‘I am tying up loose ends.’

Dick considered her. And the he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, okay. I’ll help you get rid of the evidence.”

She waved him off, clicking her fingers and looking over the room with critical eyes as the body and traces of the fight disappeared.

“Woah, handy.”

‘Very,’ she agreed. ‘Did you need something?’

He made a face. “That’s weird. It’s usually me asking that,” he muttered. “Uh, yeah. I just… wanted to thank you again. And uh, let you know that the others don’t know so if you could not tell them, that would be great?”

With a huff, she reached over and up to gently ruffle his hair. ‘Of course. Damian did not know either.’

“Right,” he breathed. “You get it.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Been avoiding thinking about it?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

She looked at him, silent. Offering a space to listen, and a quiet promise to offer no judgement.

“I don’t- it- I could have stopped her,” he told her, guilt and shame and the lingering whispering voice Catalina burrowing into his ears and heart.

And when he started, it seemed to him like he couldn’t stop. Dick told her of the things he felt as she got on top of him, of how numb and far away things were. How, if it rained, he couldn’t be in the quiet because it made him relive it.

“But… but you stopped her so I shouldn’t even be like this!”

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ She told him, the first thing she’s said since he’s started talking. ‘The only one at fault was her. You trusted her to stop. She did not. Her crimes were not yours to bear.’

She paused, taking in the refusal she could read on his face. “If someone beats another person, would you blame the person who was beaten?”

“No!”

‘Then you are kind. But you are so kind to others, why not yourself?’

Dick fell silent.

“I killed Ra’s,” she reminded him. “He allowed many others to partake in my body without my agreement.”

She leaned towards him, the admittance of something she had not even told Damian ringing painfully in her heart but made all the easier to say by the fact that one of her little brothers (the free, first Robin, the son who stood by Bruce’s side when she could not) needed her. “He himself partook in me. And yet,” she added, when Dick looked up. ‘It is difficult to forget. I am still afraid when I step onto the carpet on the sitting room.’

“The carpet? The rug? The fluffy one?” He asked, confused.

“It is like… your rain and silence,” she crossed her arms. ‘That and the sound of rustling silk reminds me of his chambers.’

“Oh.”

‘I killed him and it will not go away. Would you blame me for that?’

“No, that’s how healing is- oh.”

“Be kind, to yourself.”

His chin trembled. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Ukhti.”

“Ukhti,” he parroted, aiming a watery and small smile her way.

She held out her arms and, with Dick’s tacit understanding, tucked him beneath her wings like she did with Damian. “Thank you for offering to get rid of the body, habibi. But I would not want you to get in trouble.”

“Eh, I’ve helped Jason deal with worse.”

‘Comforting.”

“I know, right?”

——

“Why the hell do you keep calling me Grave?” Jason asked her, grumbling as he tried to wire his new helmet after the last one got damaged.

She leaned back, basking in the sun on the new rugs. After their conversation, Dick had set fire to every fluffy rug in the house-

“What the hell, dude?!” Duke gaped as he watched Dick cheerfully toss an expensive rug into the impressive bonfire they had going on.

“Ukhti doesn’t like fluffy rugs,” Dick said with a straight face. Damian dragged another roll to the bonfire with a scowl. “Alfred Approved project, if you want to join~!”

Duke stared at him… and picked up a roll to toss into the fire.

- and bought new ones using Bruce’s credit cards.

“You got some of your memories back, in the league.” She hummed. “You liked reading. Poems.”

“What does that even have to do with Grave?”

“I remembered one. A line. Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep…”

Jason twisted around. “Are you kidding me?”

She continued. “Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.”

“But I did die.”

She shrugged. ‘People still remembered you. Gotham and Bruce cried at your loss. I saw it.’

She straightened and smiled a small smile at him. ‘Besides. You got better.’

Jason snorted. “You too, I guess.”

She hummed an agreement, eyes slipping closed in the warm light of the sun, relief after a long second life of cowering in the shadows of a man more like a demon than he was a grandfather.

[penultimate-step]

Thinking about Meme Oshino, and his philosophy that people can't save others, that they can only save themselves. I have mixed feelings about it overall. On one hand, I am sympathetic to the idea that a person can't be helped if they insist on being unchanging, and I would even agree that there's no point relying on being saved by others, because you can't control them, only yourself. But that doesn't mean that I think it is impossible to help others or be helped, there are plenty of situations where it's just self evident that having help from the people around you makes difficult situations more bearable. So why is Meme like this?

I think Meme is meant to foil Koyomi in this case. Koyomi starts the series in Kizu self-isolating out of depression, but it is not something that brings him happiness, or a way he really wants to live. Meme in Bake is the opposite of this, kind of an example of the type of person who really is fine in complete isolation, relying on nobody, being relied on by nobody, moving from place to place the moment he thinks he might be laying down real roots. And he's meant to be impressive, I think, the larger than life figure fully confident in the situation, who understands and can deal with oddities while our main characters don't fully understand and feel lost without his guidance; he really is someone with maximum "power as a human."

But his whole outlook shows what is required to live like that in truth, as more than a side effect of self-loathing and something you apply selectively to yourself. If you really believed that standing alone was the natural state of being, that people's happiness and suffering was ultimately caused by their own actions, then yeah, the logical extension of that is blaming a child for being abused, or saying teenagers are at fault for being depressed.

And even with all this he's not a bad person. He goes out of his way to assist the cast and presumably other random offscreen people as he meets them, he doesn't ever try to harm others (except, perhaps, Kiss-Shot in Kizu, but like. Super Vampire is extenuating circumstances). He's not some social darwinist saying people need to be alone and only the strongest deserve happiness, he really is a good guy, but he sees people as fundamentally alone. There's a saying that goes something like "nobody is an island," but Meme is the counterexample who shows what that island would look like, in it's most positive form. And it's not someone Koyomi can ever really be.

[storiesfromgaza]

Greetings, everyone

Ever since the inception of this blog, a persistent question has been haunting me: Will any of this truly make a difference? I swiftly brushed it aside, reminding myself, 'Why should I concern my mind with this? I'll focus my abilities on doing everything within my power without fixating on the outcome.'

With this in mind, I embarked on the path of translation and article writing with unwavering dedication, telling myself that if I could reach just one individual and dispel the darkness that media relentlessly tries to cast over their eyes, veiling their spirit, that would be fulfilling enough for me.

And now, a mere five days after the creation of this blog, I felt compelled to write this message to you because I understand that this question plagues your thoughts as well. Does any of this hold significance? Does any of this create a meaningful impact?

This is a comment from a woman on the video of the elderly couple who were carrying a lifeless child (their son or grandchild) after they brought him out from under the debris.

This is just one example of a woman who heightened her awareness and began harnessing everything within her grasp, investing it in any opportunity to help, from offering support to educating herself and sharing her knowledge with those around her, including her family.

Today, and just five days after the creation of this blog, we have reached 10,871 people. which I'm asking you not to treat it as a mere number; because each one of them represents an individual, a person with an identity, a life, a story, a family, friends and an impact on society, no matter how small. Each one of them is a human being, just like her. Even if we assume that only a quarter of this number are people who have increased their awareness and shared the truth with those around them, we're talking about 2,717 people! A significant number in a short period, just five days.

The second noteworthy point is when Gaza was completely cut off from the world, with internet, communication networks, and even electricity severed, after the uprising in which everyone, including you, participated. The internet was restored to Gaza after only two days.

Furthermore, a literary magazine that focuses on multilingualism contacted us, asking to publish the stories and articles we've translated here in their upcoming issue, which will expand their reach to a larger audience.

All of this, thanks to God, happened in less than one week (five days) after creating the blog. Now, after all this, have you received an answer to your question?

#2- many of you are asking about is how you can help? In reality, there are several ways, with the Blaze feature offered by Tumblr being a prominent one. This feature allows the audience to promote any post they choose on the blog to a specific number of viewers, constrained by the amount of Blaze.

With only 5 dollars, the smallest amount of support, you can promote a post to 2,500 people! 2,500 Human!

25 dollars your chosen post will reach 7,000 people! 7000 Human!

65 dollars will result in the chosen post reaching 20,000 people, 20,000 Human!

and for the maximum support amount, which is 150 dollars, your selected post will be delivered to 50,000 people, 50,000 Human!"

Promoting posts with Blaze won't only increases the reach of the specific post but also directs more traffic to the blog itself, as those who see the promoted post are likely to visit the blog and explore other stories and articles. So, it's impact not limited to a single post.

Furthermore, you can choose the audience of the country you want to target using the Blaze feature, such as Australia, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Mexico, the United Kingdom, and the United States. You can do all of this by clicking the Blaze button below any post you want to promote.

If you are able to support with any amount, it will make a significant difference in reaching a larger audience and increasing awareness. If you find it difficult to select a specific post or story to use the Blaze feature on, I will provide some suggestions here that would be beneficial to promote and reach a wider audience:

The video of the elderly couple carrying a child's lifeless body, with the man's face adorned with a thousand years of sorrow, helplessness, and despair, while the woman continues to weep beside him. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732477157492834304/two-elderly-people-the-mans-face-adorned-with?source=share]

The video of the woman carrying her child's body, weeping and asking her father to leave her child in her embrace, and then requesting them to bury her with him. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732437085371432960/after-losing-her-child-to-the-shelling-a?source=share]

The story of the suffering of the girl Saba [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732282818040872960/saba-my-cousin-is-in-the-third-grade-in-2019?source=share]

The story of Emad's only son. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732168563115409408/i-sat-with-emad-on-the-corner-of-the-street-he?source=share]

The story of Majd's little sister. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732160503297769472/my-little-sister-in-the-midst-of-everything?source=share]

The child Yussuf. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732146206757830656/what-is-the-worst-nightmare-for-any-healthcare?source=share]

Your support will make a significant difference, and for those who cannot provide support, simply sharing the content here and on Instagram (@amrshater), following and engaging with it, and sharing it on your own accounts' stories will also make a significant impact by reaching a larger audience.

In the end, Alhamdulillah (praise be to God), and thank you all.

[nalyra-dreaming]

IWTV s2... an (emotional) recap

Between the spoilers dropping before the last three episodes and the content of the episodes themselves we really have gone through the emotional wringer.

I think I have rewritten this three times over, because my feelings kept changing.

I had hoped for more, I got more than I wished for, I wanted something else, they hit the nerve precisely...

And now with the season 3 announcement:))))

Maximum emotional carnage - indeed.

Everything ... up to that NOLA visit in episode 8 and the actual ending... is not the truth. Let that sink in.

The trial: scripted (and Lestat breaking out of it for the important bits)

Claudia's turning: So much... more raw.

Claudia's death: brutal. That final look between her and Lestat was one of the most painful things to witness.

Her diaries (pages): mostly unused. I am a bit unnerved bc of that wasted Merrick reveal and aftermath implementation tbh. Louis is not freed up after it, but... he should have been, imho. Though, that said, with Dubai likely a stand-in for Trinity Gate... maybe the arc fits after all - BUT I still think they could have done more with her diaries. I get why they wanted to escape the “white savior trap“ but this way Louis did not get that power-up that will ultimately bring him to where it frees him. But who knows... maybe they will implement a version of it all still.

The broadcasting and Loustat's relationship in general: Armand putting a fantasy retelling into Louis' brain. Holy shit.

Flashbacks to 1790: Self-indulgent fanfiction.

Dubai: Stepford Wives via mind gift. 💀

Daniel: Supposedly(*) turned out of spite. I absolutely get why DM fans are besides themselves with this and the comments after.

The story itself: More or less ending exactly where the first book puts us. I do NOT know why they kept that title a secret, it's not hinting at anything other than that simple fact, imho. :)

So.

You know, them using the movie "Gaslight" for the poster reference makes more and more sense now, because that is how I feel a bit at least: gaslit. Just a little bit.

Because... Nice reunion that you had there... too bad it will turn out to be the contested NOLA one, I would bet real money on it. 😅

......

Sarcasm aside, this is a brilliant show. But I am NOT looking forward to another two years of bullshit accusations (by some) because they were mostly/only spelled things out in the episode insiders, and only broke things up in the last episode. Or of people confusing the meta and social commentary level with the in-universe one.

Which, by the way, I'm happy that they went there. And I am relieved that they spelled things out in the episode insiders. Truly. But as experience has shown after season ONE... implied manipulations, episode insiders and interviews, and cast/crew/writer statements don't mean jack shit to some people.

So yeah, where does this leave us?

This was a dark season. I think I'm not totally wrong when I say that most of us did not get what we wanted from it, neither DM, nor Loumand, nor Loustat. Or Claudeleine.

"Locked together in hatred" comes to mind, though "hatred" is obviously (way) too strong a word. (But that quote fits so nicely 😏🤓)

We DID get some of what we wanted. But for a show which built so heavily on other books... to follow the first book then so closely?? I don't know, it leaves me a bit unsatisfied(**). It feels as if they just shut the book, to be done with it, you know?

I still enjoyed the season, there were brilliant parts in it. But it feels... bloodless. Sexless. Empty of affection. Harrowing. Which is, of course, the point.

This... is a depressing, hinting at suicide-through-vampires note.

Which won't happen, of course.

Because here we get to (**), which is of course ™️ them announcing s3 just prior to the last episode;))) And thereby making some things clear by that fact alone :)) 🙌🙌🙌

I said it before, I expect them to revisit... again. Given that this will be in what, 1,5 to 2 years from now? Well. Hopefully still in 2025. And I hope the arc they spun over these three seasons will be done then. And we can move forward.

I do hope this show will get 10 seasons. But for the first time since it aired I wished we'd already be ahead, in season 4 or something. 😅 Because this heap of loose endings is... taxing^^. Though definitely coming very softened as a blow now with the s3 renewal that’s for sure^^

Can't wait to hear your thoughts, if you want to share them. But these are mine. For now.

I'm sure there will be a lot of details, and analysis and meta to follow, and I'm looking forward to it. 🥰🙌

S1 and s2 were a tale... I mean we knew. But I would have preferred a bit more... truth.^^

Because that Magnus‘ tower scene?! No way. The metaphorical push off the tower??? No way, sorry Rolin but if they let that stay… that’s not giving agency that’s removing Lestat‘s suffering for their weird “toxic masculinity arc“ that Sam hinted at and which was - IN THE BOOK!!! - a misjudgment of Akasha.

AND it is removing Lestat‘s suffering to give more nuance to other characters. -.-

Given Hannah‘s episode 5 comments I hope they do not make a misjudgment of his character there. The red flags are there though, especially after the recent interviews, have been ever since that DV drop, and I have people come to me via DMs now to tell me they’re leaving the fandom bc they’re scared of another GoT…. which I get.

I… still have some faith. I know Rolin tends to put his foot into his mouth at times, he is a troll, and for all her takes on ep5 Hannah also wrote other brilliant scenes.

And we have Sam and Jacob as trump cards.

I‘m determined to enjoy this - this is what we‘ll get. I waited 30 years. I won’t go anywhere. I will enjoy what they give us.

I won‘t like all their decisions. That I am aware of.

BUT I will enjoy it, going in open-eyed, nonetheless.

(*) okay that is obviously bullshit, Armand would not turn him out of spite. Which is another hint I guess. But I talked about that in asks^^ At length 😅

[lilyrizzy]

34. washing the other's body

I promised you some girl daniel lin, I hope you like it ❤️ set right after this Daniel also breaks her hand

The sound of running water has been seeping under the bathroom door for almost an hour now. Normally, Daniel showers with the door open, and Max gets to see the steamy shape of her through the glass, gets to be soothed by her familiar movements. Something homely. Sometimes, he sits on the closed toilet lid and they discuss weekend plans, and other times they shower together.

Tonight, she'd shut the door.

For half an hour, Max had distracted himself by checking in on Gianni's live stream on his phone, dropping a few funny comments into the chat that were bound to get a few more viewers. Then, he'd shut it down and paced into the kitchen, placed their premade meals onto microwavable plates, ready for when Daniel came out.

Now, he's got nothing left to distract him from his worry.

"Daniel?" He calls to her as he knocks on the door. When she doesn't answer, there's a momentary lurch of fear in his chest, his stomach, his entire body that has him pushing it open.

Inside though, there is no horror scene. Daniel is sat in the bath, cast hanging over the side, as the taps gush out a steady stream of water.

Even from the doorway he can see that her eyes are red rimmed when she looks at him, but he knows better than to ask a question he knows the answer to. If she wants him to acknowledge her tears, she'll make a joke about them.

"Max," she says, voice sounding a little wobbly. Then, after a beat, "turns out I use this hand more than just to wank with."

With her good hand, she points to her head. Her curls there are darker with the water, and an uneven smattering of suds. The shampoo is still open, perched on the edge of the tub, and the hairbrush she has always told him was so important to use for maximum girl boss, curl boss power hasn't even been taken down from the shelf.

"I see," Max says, already moving to grab the brush. "Well. It is a good thing you have a boyfriend who is trained in curl care."

She snorts, but doesn't protest when he crouches down besides her and starts to brush. Usually, she tells him he can tug harder than he does, that it doesn't hurt, but he can never bring himself to do it. This time, she doesn's say anything, and he keeps the strokes of the brush smooth, teasing out the knots at the bottom, working his way up.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," she says eventually, just as he is lathering shampoo into his hands, rubbing it into her scalp. "I should have- I should have avoided Piastri. I should have taken my hand off the fucking wheel at least, I- I know fucking better than that."

Max hums. It's no use telling her the truth everybody knows, that where was nothing else to be done in such a quick flash, because she knows it also. It would be worse to tell her Max's truth, that he is glad it is her hand, because another time, another session, there is always the risk it could have been her neck.

"Really," She laughs bitterly, "I'm meant to be proving I still got it, and instead I'm out here binning myself into walls, it's- It's fucking embarrassing."

She shakes her head viciously, and Max uses the hands he has there to still her, to press a kiss to the crown even if it means a mouthful of soap.

"You are not embarrassing," he says firmly, tucking a hand under her chin to tilt her head backwards. He kisses the curve of her nose too, while she looks up at him warily. "If you think this is enough to change Christians mind, then the only thing you are proving right is the IQ test we took in bed last week. Remember, the one that said I was smarter?"

There's a pause and then a startled laugh escapes her lips. Max grabs the cup where they keep their toothbrushes, side by side, to fill with water and rinse off her hair, laughing too.

"That quiz was bullshit," she's insisting, "I told you I wanted a rematch," and Max is nodding like they'll do anything other than curl around each other to sleep when they finally make it between their sheets. "Besides, I gotta convince Marko too, you know that."

It's true, she does. For now, Max tries to distract her from that fact by doing an extremely poor impression of an Austrian vampire, until she's making the water slosh over the side of the bath with her laughter, soaking him in the process. When her giggles have subsided, she looks up at him again with softer eyes.

"What?" He asks.

"You're right, Maxy," she says, "I am lucky to have you."

It takes Max a beat to retrace where in their conversation he said that.

"For the curl care?" He checks, rubbing conditioner into her hair even as he says it.

"Sure," she says, and her smile seems like a secret made for only the two of them to share, "let's call it that for now."

[theflyindutchwoman]

I'm a little afraid the show will go to the Aaron/psy relationship after his therapy end. It was always a weird choice for me to choose someone this young for a psy and their first meeting didn't help. It wasn't "professional". This and the fact it's danielle (the actress). We talked about this one time and the show don't need another regular. I don't like the idea of aaron and celina in couple, I want them to stay platonic bff but ngl I'd rather have them in couple because it save screentime. Celina isn't going anywhere after her rookie year so we might as well saving screentime rather than having aaron and her girlfriend + celina and someone else. I hope alexi don't bring someone new pls and the next rookie will leave after his year. Watch them keeping the next rookie for celina love interest. 💀

To tell you the truth, I'm a bit unsure of how to read Aaron and Blair's interactions yet. Their first scene had some serious flirty undertones, but I don't know if that was intentional or not. Their latest scene felt more subdued… which could easily be explained by the fact that they were in the middle of a session. In a way, it reminds me of Nolan & Genny : I could feel some sparks between them but it turned out to be nothing. So I'm going to need more scenes between Aaron and Blair before making a judgment. I don't mind her being quite young though - for now! After all, one of the core message of the show is that you shouldn't judge someone on their age or their experience. And I'm also hopeful that Blair is going to play a role in other storylines, not just Aaron's. But yes, a part of me does remain a bit suspicious too… especially after that first scene.

So I get your apprehension. The cast is already at maximum capacity (to put it mildly) so I sincerely hope we won't get more regulars. Not without getting rid of a character or two first. We already barely have storylines for some of the main cast, so let's not add more to the list.

As for Celina and Aaron… I wouldn't be against this pairing, but I agree, I'd rather they stay BFF. This show does a wonderful job when it comes to platonic friendships, so I'd prefer this option. They could even be partnered up once she graduates. Though, I'm still not quite sure what they intend to do with her character after her graduation. I'm not even sure where she is in her training for that matter. As much as I have come to like her character, I kinda wish she would transfer to another station. That way, she could still show up from time to time. But at some point, some of the rookies need to leave. I mean, we have never met any of Angela's or Tim's former rookies. While we're at it, I'm hoping that the next rookie will fail. Not on their first day. But after a couple of months. Or during Plain Clothes Day. We were told that 1 out of 3 rookies washes out, so let's see that instead. And it could give Nolan some much needed character development…

[anhed-nia]

I remembered the oddity of two different movies simultaneously appearing about Christine Chubbuck, who notoriously committed suicide during a live news broadcast, and I remember the Rebecca Hall movie quite well--I've seen it more than once and I admire it--but I couldn't quite recall whether I had seen the documentary. I'm not even sure if I can use the word "documentary" to describe the film about Kate Lyn Sheil preparing to play Chubbuck in a movie that is fictional; that is, it only exists within the confines of KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE which, despite real interviews with real people about a real event, is a total contrivance whose goal is to interrogate tabloid journalism and the delusion that we can ever know the "authentic self" of a public figure. I think that's what the filmmakers have said, anyway, although I'm not sure the message is always so skillfully delivered. I mean, I don't get the sense that the casting of Kate Lyn Sheil is supposed to be ironic, even though she seems almost uniquely unqualified for the role, down to the fact that her mousy little voice is barely up to the challenge of a mild argument let alone the professional skill of anchoring a news program. But I think the hardest thing for me about this meta-movie is that it starts to feel like there are only two options in addressing a story like Chubbuck's: you can either reduce her to a string of ignorant, sexist cliches for maximum entertainment value (obviously bad), or you can accept that she is essentially unknowable. And frankly, I think the Rebecca Hall movie proves that there is a middle ground where you can perform thoughtful experiments with empathy.

Like no, of course no sensationalistic news item should be treated like the whole truth about someone, but KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE is overloaded with people spitballing about why Christine killed herself in a way that only serves to remind you that if you are seriously depressed and all your dreams are falling apart in your hands and you cannot trust or respect the world around you...well, then you really might be as alone as you feel, because no matter how loudly you shout what your problem is, the non-depressed majority will never, ever understand you. Worse than that, they might make a whole movie that makes you sound kind of shallow and ungrateful and maladjusted, where they all reassure each other that there is just no way to relate to you. I think it's a big problem that the narrative of depression is so often told by outsiders who ultimately don't really get it, although I don't know what solution to propose other than that people should try harder to listen to each other. Or at least admit that they're operating without much imagination for other people's feelings.

Maybe I'm overstating things because I find what we know (or think we know, yeah yeah) about Christine Chubbuck really easy to understand, and relatable to a not insignificant degree. And KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE just reminded me that if I were to ever reach an extreme conclusion about my life, I could almost be sure that whoever survived me wouldn't have much to say about it except that it was selfish and irrational and any testimony that I left behind is impossible to take seriously. Like the Rebecca Hall movie might not be the TRUTH-truth, but it makes a pretty thoughtful, educated attempt to interpret things, and I don't feel there's anything wrong with that. I keep thinking about this David Sedaris essay that somebody described to me, that I haven't even read so yeah there's another layer of manipulated reportage for you, but it stuck with me: Five of the Sedaris children used to torment the sixth mercilessly, and despite the amount of detail David gives about that, he still manages to act confused about why the bullied sibling turned out all messed up and suicidal, unlike the other kids who made the most of their opportunities in life. David Sedaris may well be an unsympathetic egomaniac, but in my experience it really does happen that someone is not doing well and absolutely all of the evidence is out in the open, and the public and alleged loved ones of that person are happy to talk about their suffering like it is just incomprehensible and possibly even worth shitting on. So yeah, sorry to be a bummer on this beautiful Sunday afternoon but maybe the ultimate reason not to kill yourself is that no one will ever get it no matter what you say or do, and they might even be rude about it after you're gone.

PS I have no idea how much good these things actually do, but I feel like I might as well put one of the many helplines out there at the end here:

[ac-liveblogs]

Okay, if genshin were a tradition party based rpg, how would you handle all the different playable characters/who would you pick as the party?

Hi! I'm envisioning a maximum of 9 permanent party members at once, with the remaining Genshin cast being reduced to either NPCs of varying importance/plot relevance or guest party members depending on the storyline.

That would account for Traveller + 1 party member per region + 1 party member related to Abyss (likely endgame).

Though I can't pick out Natlan, Snezhnaya or Abyss-related (though that'll probably be Dainsleif unless there are Developments), based on plot elements that I can build on, stretch out, weave into other things or twist until they almost break, my canon playable party (+ justifications) so far are;

Traveller + Venti, Xiao, Kazuha, Collei, with Diluc replacing Venti towards the 3/4 mark of the game. Paimon is still there but. Yeah. Traveller would be a more distinct character with their own personality/arc.

Traveller (Just wants to find their sibling and leave ASAP -> eventually comes to care about Teyvat and the people in it and want to protect them)

Venti (Investigating the state of the world after his 500 year nap -> primary motivation for investigating Archons/the Fatui at first)

Xiao (Trying to work out what to do with his life when he is no longer required to protect Liyue -> dealing with the fallout of a few important deaths at the game's 3/4 points)

Kazuha (Coming to terms with his feelings regarding his friend's death/ambitions as well as his own detachment issues -> chasing Scaramouche to retrieve the stolen Electro Gnosis)

Collei (Overcoming her trauma/coming to terms with what's been done to her -> Beef with Dottore/helping Nahida)

Diluc would replace Venti ( :) ) ideally Kaeya would have to betray Mondstadt for whatever reason and Diluc joins the party to chase him down and beat some sense into him.

Fontaine is a bit shakier as I'm still hammering out the details there (need to see what happens in future plot), but I'd either pick Navia, Furina or one of Lyney's siblings (it depends on whether or not I'm going to kill Arlecchino - may have too much crossover with Diluc).

Given the variety of people living in Teyvat, I'd like to have a decent spread of regular humans and non-human characters with various different motivations, either relating to the Fatui, Abyss, Celestia or Khaen'riah's War that drive them forward, either to prevent disaster or discover the truth about what happened during the Cataclysm.

This is accounting for the fact that I'm taking a hatchet to both the region's plots and everyone's roles in the narrative to varying degrees, so those choices would make more sense in the context of the reworked plots (which I would consider more remixed than rewritten, except for the parts where they're dumb)

And that I am going to kill some people, but I'm less precious about the characters than HYV. ( :) )

As far as guest characters go, they'd join for a variety of reasons but probably wouldn't theoretically go much further than AI-support in certain quests (Ayaka in Inazuma, Albedo in Dragonspine, that sort of thing).

[prouvaireafterdark]

I personally don't think season 3 will or should be Lestat writing his own book. First of all, because of the abuse, I sincerely think any Lestat POV also needs another party present to call him out and not just let the audience assume his side is the truth, otherwise it will seem like the show is implicitly taking the abuser's side of the story (especially after how it framed Daniel's role in digging through Louis's story). Either he will show up to the penthouse and continue the "interview" framing or he will tell his story to Louis so both can be there to hash out what happened between them or something of that sort.

A straight up Lestat POV where he gets to paint himself as the victim would be pretty gross after what we've seen him do honestly and honestly why would the audience take anything he has to say seriously?

Okay I'm gonna be really honest here, unless Louis and Lestat's reunion has already happened and/or he's in a coma in the basement, I have no idea how people expect him to crash the interview at this point. Like it just does not make sense to me that he would just magically appear like that.

Honestly, I would much prefer that Lestat skips the memoir part and becomes a famous rockstar after reading Louis' interview and asks Louis to meet him with his song lyrics/media exposure so he can tell Louis his story himself before the San Francisco concert because that means we get maximum Louis. If Daniel is there to call him out on his bullshit, all the better, but I do want the story from Lestat's lips because the comedy of his narration is just too good to pass up. I've waited 15 years to hear Lestat describe himself with his own clown mouth and I hope season 3 doesn't disappoint.

Also, I just want to mention this because I feel like when people talk about Lestat there's a tendency to think about Lestat discussing his trauma as him painting himself as the victim and it really grates on me because two things can be true at once. Like, Lestat isn't the victim in his relationships with Louis and Claudia, obviously, but he absolutely was a victim. He was horrifically abused and neglected by his family his entire life growing up and was abandoned by every person he ever loved, even his own mother after he saved her life by making her a vampire bc she never wanted to be his mom (or a mom at all) in the first place. He is profoundly fucked up because of these traumatic events and they have a direct relationship to why he was so abusive to Louis and Claudia. Like he's probably got every trauma-induced personality disorder in the DSM-5 and literally cannot regulate his emotions or make himself stop being terrible until Louis hits his hard factory reset button and gives him an intervention by making him rot in the dump for a while so he's forced to think about what he's done.

Does that excuse any of his horrific behavior? No.

Does that mean he shouldn't have to atone for his bad decisions and the pain he's inflicted on other people? No.

Does that mean we should take every word he says as gospel and cast suspicion on Louis and Claudia's narratives? No.

But that doesn't mean every word out of his mouth is a lie either, and honestly, it's not like Lestat ever says "actually, every bad thing Louis and Claudia said I did was a lie because they're liars and I was a perfect father and husband and they tried to kill me for no reason." He fully admits that Claudia was right to kill him and that it's the kind of thing he would have done himself.

And like, in order for there to be a cycle of abuse, one has to first be abused. That's just how it works. And I don't really get why people are so set on erasing Lestat's traumatic history or viewing it as an either/or situation where only one of them is allowed to have been a victim of abuse and that if Lestat is allowed to talk about his abuse in season 3 he's by definition excusing his actions and challenging Louis' narrative.

I feel like part of the point of Anne Rice's work is that these vampires are, all of them, extremely monstrous AND deeply traumatized. They are both victims AND victimizers. It's what makes them so compelling and nuanced. I don't understand why some people want Lestat to be a cartoon villain with no redeeming qualities or path to redemption, and I also don't know why people seem to think that a season 3 from Lestat's perspective can only mean that the audience will not be asked to question or interrogate his perspective the way they've been asked to with Louis and Claudia in season 1.

Like, after everything they made Lestat do in season 1, if you're genuinely worrying that the writers are going to say "none of Louis or Claudia's trauma happened at all and actually Lestat was a perfect, sad angel the whole time who was unjustly wronged by Louis and Claudia and this is something you, the audience, are meant to uncritically believe because Lestat bat his eyelashes while he said it," I literally don't know what to say. It sounds ridiculous because it is.

There's just no way they're doing that and I think everyone should take a breath and stop stressing over it.

[onlydylanobrien]

Dylan O’Brien with Ike Barinholtz, Tiya Sircar and Kiernan Shipka behind the scenes on the set of “Maximum Truth”. (2021)

📷©: katmoviemakeupofficial on Instagram

[skzloversblogsposts]

Lover boy [h.j][f]

Contains: profanity , han x reader , strangers to lovers , mutual pining , mentions of 3racha + hyunjin

——————————————

The sun casted down on to the floor of your living room , it’s warm glow covering you and the furry friend next to you in a sheen of golden hues as you stood hands tacking away at the keyboard of your laptop . Boxes remained unpacked , clothes bundled around the apartment , silverware casted on the table as you sat absentmindedly in the chaos looming around you , all but a bookshelf now holding swarms of paperbacks and binder books places strategically to ensure maximum packing . Your legs ached , the dull pain you felt hours ago now throbbing as you sat prezeled as the heat from your laptop burned into your thighs . Truth was you were too invested too move too far into the book that your eyes felt sore every time you looked away from the gotham book font clad on your laptop . Your hands stilled your laptops battery warning sign popping up jolting you up from your spot on the carpet , startling the feline next to you as you sprung to locate your charger “ shit , where is it?” you cursed rummaging “ I know it’s here somewhere “ your hands pushing past the boxes your attention being drawn to the cat you were once next to , it’s quiet meow sparking your attention “ not now Delilah I’m looking for” your eyes trailed over its figure now nuzzling into the plug of your charger “ you’re a genius! “ you celebrate patting the feline and plugging your laptop on .. the screen now blackening out, “ NO WAIT “ your progress now thrown aside like yesterdays garbage as you stared at the black void in front of you holding not even the faintest sign of your work . You sighed plopping to the floor , cat now grazing its head against your knees in an attempt to soothe you. “ oh I’m sorry delilah , I didn’t mean to startle you , I just worked so hard on it !” You said head now in your knees as you cradled yourself . Your body leaning to the side as you laid against the floor , the warm wooden flooring calming your panicked nerves as you laid untouched , unbothered . But like all good things , it must come to an end at some point and for you your end , your unnecessary, unneeded but some how much wanted , coming in the form of three Kurt knocks to your door . The heavy wood harbouring the identity of the individual as you pulled it open . Brown eyes staring into yours , your breath hitched your lungs felt heavy , full ,aching almost as you stood doorknob now slippery between your sweaty palm . The man leaned back , a hand running through his hair as he stood straight clearing his throat before he spoke “ I’m so sorry , I live next door and my roommates and I heard you shout and we just wanted to know if everything’s alright ?” His words soft ; honey coated floating through your mind as you took in his appearance , black hair curled ever so slightly falling just above his eyes , toothy smile plastered on his face as he spoke punctuating each sentence by flashing it ever so slightly grinning as he observed you .

A shiver sparked your attention as the man in front of you spoke , the hair on your body practically on end as you looked down as your cat now rubbing herself against your legs , thankfully pulling you out of your trance like state as you picked her up cradling her in your arms “ roommates?” Your voice trailed as your eyes met three other head pokes slightly out of an apartment door , two of which seemed to be cheering for the friend , one flashing you a warming smile which you gladly returned “ everything’s alright I’m so sorry I just had an unexpected turn of events “ you laughed awkwardly as the cat in your arms attempted to head butt you repeatedly “ you moved in yesterday right?” He asked doe shaped eyes scanning your apartment taking in the mass of boxes lined up behind you , your face grew hot at the realisation of the man in front you , your unorganised life on display “ I did actually , I was planning on introducing myself but I don’t think anyone was home “ you said watching as he leaned over to pet the cat in your arms , his hand gently ruffling her fur as she purred at the gesture , climbing out of your hold as rubbing against his jeans “ we weren’t home yesterday, work ran longer than we expected “ he chuckled now crouched down scrathing the cat

“ I’m yn, it’s great to me you” you said “ and that’s delilah “ you spoke watching as she attempted to climb onto his shoulder” I’m Han and that-“ he spoke turning to be met with an empty door way his roommates long forgotten in the pursuit of other activities as you two spoke . He chuckled , running his hand over the back of his neck “I actually domt know where they went they were here a minute ago..” he trailed off eyes casted at the empty doorway “ oh that’s okay I’m sure I’ll meet them soon “ you said smiling politely, hans eyes flickered , brightening for a split second as he stood in front of you “ have you unpacked yet?” He asked watching as you shook your head “ great why don’t you come around for supper !!” He Chirped eyes brighter than they were before as he spoke excitedly .

Four men living together is exactly what you thought it would be , chaos taking new meaning as you walked through the door , cake in your home in attempts to not be rude and come over without something . It wasn’t bad per say , various weights placed neatly in the corner in an attempt to clean up , water bottles decorating the side of the sink and thin layer of dust forming from their absence on the tv wasn’t the worst scene your walked yourself into . Their apartment despite its modern appearance and space like decorum felt warm , maybe it was the overhead heating that one of them grasicouslu put on or maybe it was the chunky sweater that you insisted on wearing despite your cats protests to sleep on it swaying your from the idea . Introductions were short , discussing names and places of birth always seemed like pointless idle chat , but it soon prompted into more as you sat infromt of the coffe table in their lounge , cheeks stuffed with food as you laughed along to one of their stories . The obvious choking Hazard unphasing the men in front of you “ there’s no way you actually did that” hans voice surrounded the room of giggle and cackles “ I did too” changbin added in “ he did I was there !” Thinking managed to huff out “ he totally sat on it “ he squeaked his breath heavy from the laughing as he turned to face you “yn “ he spoke catching you off guard cheeks still puffed out as you chewed , you hummed in acknowledgment “ so like what’s your deal?” He asked watching as you swallowed roughly “ my deal?”

You spoke head tilting sideways at his absurd choice of words “ like don’t get me wrong , this building is big but it’s expensive too and living here isn’t something just anyone can do” he said chopsticks now poking its way into your order of orange chicken “ hyunjin !” Chan hissed “ you can’t just ask people if they’re poor or not “ he spoke mentally cursing at himself for his choice of words , your laughter sounded out around their living room , it’s warmth casting a smile on their faces as you calmed down “ I’m a poet , I write poetry for a living “ you spoke watching as their eyes widened “ have you published anything !?” Han asked in awe standing from his seat now on the floor infront of you. You nodded , shuffling to find your phone pulling out a list of of books you written and sent out “ wait triumph” Han looked over the list “don’t you have that ?” He asked the shell shock man next to him , who’s eyes seemed to widen ten times than what they were before “ oh my god “ he spoke hyunjin now standing up backing away from you hand places over his mouth “ do you know how many times I’ve read that, it’s the most beautiful collection of poems I’ve ever bought “ he spoke .

Writing should be easy , the words flowing easily off your tongue through your fingers and down on the paper , a synchronized machine that works perfectly in tune , channeling your feels and emotions into one subtext providing your readers with entertainment; writing should be easy however the man in your head , filling your subconscious seemed to prove things more difficult than you’d like to admit , maybe it was the was the way he seemed to occupy every moment of your day , from your morning stop to fetch your mail to your nightly return home from wherever you’ve been . Han was always around and that at the right time too always offering you help, inviting you in to spend time with him or opting to idle chat with you his small talk always catching your attention leaving you in his hold for longer than you intended , but when the poems your wrote , so carefully pouring your heart out on paper started to sound exactly like him , to express feelings towards him that you yourself were unable to decipher to color code your heart in annotations of emotional or love and lust for one man in particular it no surprise it left you questioning your stance . The coffee mug your placed on your desk hours ago now cold , the taupe liquid forming a skin on the top as it cooled off your pages of printouts pulled next to you “ what am I’m going to do Delilah “ you spoke to the furry feline next to you gracefully licking her paws “ everything I write is about him “ you slumped “ everything , from the sonnets to the lyrical poems his ways , his voice , how he makes me feel and how I feel about him is so painfully obvious I can’t publish anything ! “

The cat next to you meowed in acknowledgment “ I feel terrible , a creep at best , like I’m leaching on to someone who’s just being nice but I can’t help it I’m clinging on to hope for something I know I can’t have “ your voice cracked as your head hit the table , exhaustion taking over your frail heart as you laid , silence holding you close like two beloved’s parting for the first time as your tears trickled down your cheeks pooling on the print outs below you . “ she’s just not into me man” Han said pacing his apartment as hyunjin watched from the balcony , paintbrush in hand working on his latest masterpiece “ you’re so stupid “ he spoke eyes rolling slightly as he dipped his brush in a glass next to him strategically placed next to his drinking glass for convenience let alone confusion , the water saturating the paint as he swished it around “ she obviously is madly in love with you , I mean why would she just stop coming by? Why would she just stop talking to any of us ; she’s avoiding you man and the sooner your realise why the better things will be , it’s hard to put yourself out there and hope for what you think is the best but you’ll honestly never know how she feels unless you actually ask her “ he spoke watching as his friend stood dumb founded in the doorway “ I’m just saying that’s just what I think , don’t blame me for ruining your life if things don’t work out” he shrugged eyes back on the painting . With the promise of a new collection of poems , hans feet wandered to your door ; your book clutched under his arm as he knocked his breath quickened and his eyes uncertain of the words that would fall from his mouth .

Your door cracked open your brightly coloured odd paired socks making an appearance before the rest of you , hair tussled and sweater hanging on your frame as you pushed the glasses perched on your nose higher up your soft expression making hans heart melt . His hand tracked under this coat pulling the book forward “ I saw - I mean hyunjin told me well actually I told him that you had a book out … it’s a pretty big deal people are out there buying almost all of them I had to fight someone for this copy.” He chuckled dryly as he looked over the cover of the book “ uhm can I come in ?” He spoke watching as you nodded backing away from the entrance giving hi space to walk in

Your apartment warm , the blankets covering the couch perfectly just as he remembered placing them from your movie night weeks ago, you too tired to stay awake resting your head on his shoulder as he tried to maintain his composure. Your scent engulfing him making him feel giddy at the mere thought of it . Han set the book down on the counter , you now avoiding his eyes as you stood in front of him “ I guess you’ve been busy right? That’s why I haven’t I mean we you know the guys and I haven’t seen you “ he spoke watching the way your eyes darted everywhere but at him as his words holding more weight than he knew “ I was busy.. but I didn’t mean to ignore you.. I mean the guys and you I just got caught up you know with the release of the book and everything “ you spoke “ oh the book could you sign it for me … I would love to have you autograph it “ Han smiled “ did you read it yet “ your voice hitching as you watched his flushed cheeks grow brighter as the realisation of your question . Truth be told Han had no clue it was about him but one too many late night fantasy’s kept him up thinking that maybe just maybe he’d have the honour of a feature , his words were slow “ I did ..” as he spoke watching you draw on the page in front of you “ what did you think ..?” You asked your words uncertain “ I thought it was great … you seem very inspired by someone recently and it’s showing in your work “ he spoke your head rising “ inspired?” You asked your breath hitching in your chest “ well it is a collection of love poems , and you do talk about your feelings a lot “ his words seemed to upset himself as the mention of you being in love “ so who’s the lucky guy” he spoke his words thick with malice as you watched a scowl form on his face “ wait ..you don’t know ?” Your confusion evident on your face “ don’t know what ? “ he asked “Han the poems are all about you “ you spoke his eyes widening in disbelief “ HUH!?” He bellowed his face red and his arms now coming to grab your shoulders “ you wrote about me ?” He asked slightly softer this time lightly shaking you “ yes ..they’re all about you “ Han backed away in disbelief “ why didn’t you tell me before !?” He asked “ it was a personal issue “ you spoke “ you being in love with me also kind of involves me “ he said now inches away from you arms snaked around your waist back against the counter “ how could you not tell me” he spoke his words a low whisper as his eyes flickered between your lips “ I didn’t think you’d feel the same ..” you admitted “ I’d be crazy not “ Han smiled reaching down to kiss you without warning , without permission simply because he didn’t know what else to do his lips melting so perfectly against yours , messily gripping on to your hips panting into your mouth as the muffled moans poured off your lips drowning him completely in you

[imaginedreamwrite]

#7 for Exile! Please 🥺

A moment from their relationship when she still doesn't trust him, but Steve does something for her - thoughtful and loving - and she lets her guard down. Just for a moment, a bit, but Steve is grateful and greedy - he won't waste an opportunity and will use it to a maximum.

I went in a little different direction, hope that’s okay!

“Can we drop the hating game?” He’s already stepped into the bedchamber, the door’s already closed, and your hands are already shaking.

His name is on your skin, his soul is entwined with yours and for a moment its easy to forget that you two are so vastly different. Its easy to forget that he was once a gentle King who had been lied to, who had been turned vile and cruel to those he accused of keeping you apart.

For a moment, you can let your walls down and let your eyes flutter closed while the scent of spiced meat fills your nose. Your left hand falls to your belly and your fingers curl in the front panel of your sleeping robe, wondering if its too soon to feel the soft flutter.

“We’re married, you are my Queen. We consummated our marriage-” he steps forward and your heart skips a beat.

Tension turned to lust, lust turned to absolute wanting, and wanting led to you binding his hands with scarves while you fucked him. Wanting led to you fucking yourself on the King’s cock while he watched you, while he let you take what you wanted.

And then you cast him aside and tried kicking him from your bed. You tried to deny your feelings for the man who was so forceful in taking you from your home yet so kind as to not let his people starve.

“-and you warm my bed. Can you cease hating me?” You turned to face him, your eyes widened like a startled deer, your hand clasping at your sleeping robe while your other held the edge of the vanity to keep yourself from wavering.

“I am devoted to you, I am willed to you, and you…”

“-I’m pregnant.” Your breath had faltered, your heart came to a dead stop as you waited to hear something, anything from the man who was watching you with unreserved emotions flickering in his sea-like blue-green irises.

“I’ve missed my last cycle, I’ve become more sensitive, I’ve…” You sucked in air and screwed your eyes closed, imagining a life with moments, of pattering feet running down the halls and his gentle laughter.

He would be a good father, you know that because you’ve witnessed him playing with the village children. You’ve witnessed the compassion he has for the most vulnerable, and you know he would be a good paternal man.

“Y/N,” Steve’s feet padded on the floor, his hands coming to rest upon your arms, thumbs brushing back and forth gently, “Y/N, look at me.”

You shook your head. You negated to give in, and instead had grit your teeth.

You were guarded for so long, you were distant to preserve yourself and in order to pursue a life back in the forest. You didn’t think this could or would have happened like this, you thought you’d had more strength to deny him, even in crazed and angered lust.

“A child,” Steve cupped your chin, he drew your attention to himself as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours, “we are having a child.”

“With man I hate.” Your voice was weak, you were unable to speak the truth, and so you hid behind a lie. “A child with parents who don’t even…”

“A child,” he covered the hand that was clutching your belly with one of his, and kept his other hand settled under your chin, “who will have a loving mother and father.”

Truthfully, though you were frightened, you had always wished to have a child. You always wished to have someone to cuddle and bond with, someone you could guide to protect nature and adore the world around them.

“With a man I…” you couldn’t say it again, you couldn’t utter the lie anymore. Every chance to say the word hate was swallowed by yourself as the truth begged to be loosened.

“You should eat something, little owl.” Steve, uttering a petname you had never heard before, cupped your hand in his and gently led you from the bed chamber.

You would never hear the words Forest Wench from his lips again, a new chapter had been started.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, September 22nd

Xander: “Hey, Red. What you got in the basket, little girl?” Buffy: “Weapons.” Xander: “Oh.” Buffy: “Just in case. Like the tux, Xander.” Xander: “Bond. James Bond. Insurance, you know, in case we get turned into our costumes again. I’m going for cool, secret agent guy.” Buffy: “I hate to break it to you, but you’ll probably end up cool head waiter guy.” Xander: “As long as I’m cool and wield some kind of power.”

~~Fear, Itself~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

The Rod Beneath by Ellen_Brand (Batman crossover, Buffy/Jason Todd, Buffy & Giles, G)

Reflections Of Tomorrow by LoneFrog (Xander, FR15)

Just the Way You Are by Zab Jade (Buffy/Spike, 13+)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Something Red - Chapter 1 by Little_Bites (Faith & Willow, not rated)

Truth and Consequences, Ch. 25 by JamesMFan (Buffy/Spike, R)

Hope is the thing with feathers, Ch. 12-13 by will_ (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Degradation of Duality [Series Part 2] Ch. 52 by Ragini (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Little Light, Ch. 9 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Linchpin, Ch. 5 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Troubling Deaf Heaven, Ch. 5 by JuneCurry (Buffy/Spike, R)

Unholy Matrimony, Ch. 1 by CheekyKitten (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Dawn Rising, Ch. 75 by Luna (Buffy, Dawn, FR15, self harm)

Oh My Goddess, Ch. 4 by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Drawings by darthmimaulette (Buffy, Buffy/Spike, probably worksafe)

Manips: The Hungry Wolf by spyder-baby (Drusilla, Spike/Drusilla, worksafe)

A Buffy the Vampire Slayer button in progress by lunar-goodness (no people depicted, Buffy quote, worksafe)

Sims by mistyintherivers (Scoobies, Drusilla, worksafe)

drew some buffys! one from the tv show, and one from the medieval flashback in the 1992 movie by nodudeshutup (worksafe)

A Gachnar doll in progress by Nocturnal-Nycticebus (worksafe)

Welcome 2 the Hellmouth collage :) by DefDoomedPod (Buffy, Darla, Luke, the Master, worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Episode 5.4 - Hell Bound - crossposted by rock-and-compass

The dialogue in IWMTLY [I Was Made to Love You] by Stoney, HardlyThere

Buffy Season 1 is low key maybe my favorite season by AmbitiousOutside7498

SEDUCED BY A TEACHER? Up The Buff! Ep 4 - Teacher's Pet by bigbadllama

Buffy Season 3: Where will it go from here? by RedRxbin

Vampire F/X- film or tv? by CaseTarot

the way season 3 final episodes are epic is beyond by Kindly_Ad2280

[Fandom Discussions]

I had a dream that Angel was helping Buffy... by oveliagirlhaditright

If you couldn’t have the original cast - which cast would you choose [BtVS S1] by primal-slayer

Skeptical of how realistic it was for the characters to consider working for Wolfram&Hart by thequeenofsastiel

Was Spike a special or unique vampire? by garfan and others

Are any of you involved in Scholarship on Buffy? by friendofathena

Looking for DVD set that has "Once More With Feeling" NTSC 16:9 native NOT letterboxed by Maximum-Telephone268

Fancast: Once More With Feeling - dream cast in music theatre by Icy-Morning6813

Did you know that TV tropes exists because of Buffy The Vampire Slayer? by Cailly_Brard7

Spike VS Faith (who wins in a fight?) by FoxIndependent4310

Has anyone gone to the Buffy Popup in Chicago? by BalrogSlayer00

What campfire songs do you think they sang? by AndrewHeard

Quotes from the show to remember when you're in a dark period of your life? by incantopatronus

A defense of Xander by foreseethefuture

Has your opinion any character shifted as you’ve aged? by Tamika_Olivia

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

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[rpgchoices]

Sometimes I really want to read a short summary of what to expect from a game with a very particular description that CATER to my OWN SPECIFIC interests, so here we go.

(click here for other videogames)

what to expect from ENDERAL

Free Skyrim mod which has an indipendent lore and story from Skyrim. It is a sequel of Nehrim but Nehrim is not necessary to understand the story

This game deals with PTSD, abuse, trauma and depression in quite an explicit way to be careful, if you are triggered by these topics

You are a refugee looking for a new life in Enderal. You can choose different abilities (magic/assassin etc.) and races (always half human)

Very eery feeling and mystery feeling - honestly, some of the sequences in this game still haunts me

To avoid spoilers I will just say that you end up thrown in trying to solve a mysterious diseases that makes people aggressive, murderous, called the Red Madness

the game has a lot of lore and is mainly based on finding out more about this mystery and how to stop it - you won't find all of the answers, and not everyone will tell you the truth

like Skyrim the game has combat + dialogue choices, expect that your choices here matter for the outcomes of different quests and the final ending (there are three endings)

many quests are actually quite long and filled with material and characters, not a lot of fetch quests

you have two temporary companions (Calia and Jespar) who are recurrent, and then you have other characters who sometimes accompany you. You cannot choose your companions, they are more like characters who gets assigned to the same quests

Romance is indipendent from your gender and you can romance Calia or Jespar. Both have multi-parts personal quests/interactions

There are other characters who have big roles/quests: Tharael, Esme, Yuslan, Lishari, Dijaam.

The game is quite big, the area/world is also pretty big

One of my least favourite parts is that the game is quite dark - as in I had to use torchlights all the time (my pc also doesn't help, here)

You can buy two houses and decorate them!

The game is relatively linear, you have a series of main quests and you can explore the whole world and accidentally find other secondary quests

beautiful scenery!

there is fast travel all over the world, plus you can ride a horse or a donkey

ALL characters are voiced (a part from the protagonist)

plot? You play as a refugee escaping from their old home. While on a ship to Enderal, you end up discovering you have mysterious magical powers, a magical fever and can sometimes see events that have not happened yet. gameplay? Action rpg with dialogue choices and exploration, story-rich also it is a free mod characters? yes even secondary characters usually have an interesting story/personality. You end up with a cast of main characters, among these Jespar and Calia are sometimes your followers and have personal quests sadness level? MAXIMUM LEVEL

Under cut HEAVY spoilers about death-level in all three endings:

.

.

There are three main endings: one where you sacrifice yourself and it is assumed that part of the city got destroyed... everyone dies but your lover/closest companion. Another ending where you escape with your companion - the world is destroyed and only you two survive. And a third ending where based on when you drink a potion, you save the world without sacrificing yourself and survive with your companion - or did you? It might be a dream.