#I try to put the story together from the characters

[astracora]

Drunken Confession - Zayne

Characters: Zayne x gn!mc

Warnings: Very Drunk MC, Chronic Illness, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2677

Written: 21st February 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship, with Zayne and the main MC I write for. I'm so sorry to Zayne this came out way more angsty than I meant for. I guess it's in character for how tragic all his story feels.

Masterlist AO3

<- Caleb

Zayne is returning from a conference when he gets the call, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he parks his car.

"Hey Doctor Li, have you heard from your hunter at all?" 

He stops from where he's walking to his door, normally he would gently nudge Greyson to drop formalities, but the man sounds out of breath, like he's been running. "Greyson, I have only just returned to Linkon, why?"

There's hesitation, he can feel it, he hears Yvonne speaking in the background, but can't really make out the words. He's about to nudge Greyson along, before the man speaks again, "I was going to cover their check-up today, but they met with Doctor Noah earlier, and then left. I haven't been able to get in touch with them since."

It's not like you to skip appointments. You're careful, you hate to put people out, and you've always at least shown up. Even if he knows you ignore his advice, even if he's heard enough from Doctor Noah to know the time he spent apart from you, you didn't spend it taking care of yourself. He hasn't heard everything, and you do not share what you don't have to, but there is enough information in your files, for him to piece it together.

Still, the you he's reacquainted with, is a person who values your role as a hunter, and you do not avoid your requirements to have health check-ups. Even if you act flippant about your own health.

'If I can still hunt, then I'm fine, Doctor Li.'

He wonders when the child he knew, energetic and vibrant, forgot how to live.

"I will go check on them, I will get back to you to rearrange the check-up afterwards." Greyson affirms, and Zayne returns to his car. When he gets in, he tries to call. The call goes to voicemail each time. He hopes you'll at least see missed calls and get back to him before he gets to you. Alleviate the anxieties rising in his chest.

The fear that something has happened to you, that he's too late. He always feels like he's too late.

He feels too hot under his turtleneck, as he rushes out of his car, and up to your apartment. Pressing buttons in the elevator with too much force. His fingers feel cold. Like ice, and he shoves them into the pockets of his coat, trying hard to breathe through the churning in his stomach.

He's logical, Zayne tells himself. You're fine, you just fell asleep, or forgot, or got distracted.

There's so many reasons, for why you didn't arrive at your appointment. He will not spiral. No matter how many times he's seen you be reckless on a mission, and had to stitch you up afterwards.

When he arrives at your door, he's not overly proud of how forceful he is with his knocking. Three sharp raps, before he pauses, hesitates and steadies his hands. When there's no response, he tries again, this time he's less heavy handed. Carefully knocking, three times.

This time he hears a groan through the door, shuffling and movement, before it swings open.

Zayne exhales relief as he sees you, alive, and solid in front of him. You're wearing a loose vest, the sleeves slipping off your shoulders, and shorts. Long fluffy socks up to the knee. Your hair is pushed back with a headband, and there's a bottle held in your hand, precariously held to the side.

He quickly reaches a hand out, to tilt it back up before whatever it is, spills all over the floor.

Even if his eyes don't stray from you. Your eyes are watery, the bright colours of your mismatched gaze glittering up at him, and your lip is bitten.

For the shortest moment, he's captivated by you, as though he's ever not, and stares.

"Doctor Li? You good?" Your words come out on a sigh, and you tip the bottle back up to your lips, taking a steady swig, all while watching him.

Snapping himself out of his stupor, he pulls his hand back, and is relieved that there's no more ice over his skin. "You missed your appointment."

"Ah." He watches your face, the guilt skittering through your expression, the way your shoulders jump, and you crack a tiny smile, "My bad, I'll rearrange later. I must have forgotten."

You're lying to him, he notices, the way your eyes dart away. The way you fidget on your feet. You've never been a good liar, even as a child, you're somehow worse now. He imagines the alcohol in your hand hasn't helped.

He's standing at your door, and there's a vague sense of knowing he doesn't want other people seeing you like this. Armour down. He's concerned about you, that's all. He's your doctor, and your old childhood friend, and he's worried about you.

"May I come in?"

You blink at him, then look behind you, and back at him. He watches you think, and hesitate. Until you open the door wider for him, and indicate with the bottle for him to enter. Walking in ahead.

The first thing he notices, is the television is on, but there's no sound coming out. Like you'd turned it on, and forgotten to unmute it. A movie he doesn't recognise plays in the background, but you find your way back to the sofa, sitting down and pulling your legs up to face it. Nudging your head at the seat next to you.

The second thing he notices, is there's quite an array of bottles on the table, not all of them are finished, like you've been going through to find ones you don't hate. Many are still full, others barely a tenth empty. There's three that are fully empty, and the one in your hand is close to joining them.

The third thing is that he doesn't know what to do. Hesitating at the edge of the sofa, looking at you, watching you, before you look back up at him. "You gonna join me or not?" Your voice is far more casual than it normally is, you speak like you're amused by his hesitation. Watching him with the smallest quirk to your lips. It is that, which makes him join you. Sitting next to you, but not touching.

"You want a drink?"

He doesn't. He doesn't normally drink at all, and he's not sure now is the time to test his likely terrible tolerance.

"Are you alright?" He asks instead, cutting to the chase.

You sigh, leaning back on the sofa, and looking over at him. Mostly looking over his shoulder, your cheek resting against the back, "I'm fine."

It's another lie, so he simply looks at you, reading the look on your face. When he looks for too long, you laugh. It's soft, and weak, but you do smile at him, "Would you like a picture?"

His cheeks feel warm, because he would. You look tired, sad, with glistening eyes and are dishevelled. Like a painting he'd see on the wall in a gallery, of beautiful sorrow. If it were a better circumstance, he would want this view every day.

"Your ability to lie hasn't improved, would you like to try again?"

This time you exhale, looking up at the ceiling, then lean forward to take another swig. You finish the bottle, and then place it down. "Noah, he-" You choke on the words, shaking your head to fight back the feelings, "We talked, about my condition."

Your heart, that beats in your chest. The thing that drives him, every path he has taken, to find an answer for it. To heal it, so that you could live a long life. He's never told you, and he never plans to. That you drove every choice he's ever made. That you have meant more to him throughout his life than any other.

That his heart beats for you.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing new. He wasn't any closer to an answer, no one is, that there's no cure. That no one knows how long I still have. I just-"

He watches the trembling in your hands, and he reaches out to take yours in his. Your hand is even colder than his. You make to pull away, and then stop, looking down at his hand. It's hesitant that you move over on the sofa, wiggling over, and tightening your grip.

"It just hit me again, that's all. Reminded me. I had to get out, I didn't want to see Greyson like that, I just needed to take some time to calm down. I'm sorry, Zayne."

Zayne watches you smile again, turning your head back to him, you're so close he can smell the lavender of your shampoo. "There are better coping mechanisms." He notes, but there's no bite in it. Especially when you laugh without humour, and shrug.

Like you know that, like it's all you can think to do.

"Why did you not call me?"

You pull away from his grip now, pulling back on the sofa, and reach out for another drink. Scowling a little when you find nothing that interests you available. "I can't bother you with everything Zayne, you have enough on your plate."

"You could never bother me."

Your edges have softened, and you're distant, like if he takes his eyes off you, you'll float away. Like the drink has taken the weapons out of your hands, removed your tether. You don't believe him though, he can tell that much, the way you don't bother to respond, just shrug once more. So he leans forwards, takes your hand between two of his, and rubs careful circles into your skin.

If he holds onto you, you'll never disappear. No nightmare will become reality, and no world will exist where he doesn't have you in front of him. "You will never bother me." He reiterates, carefully catching your mismatched gaze with his own, holding it there.

"I'll be fine, promise. I have a lot still to do." You affirm, but it's not a promise to seek him out. It's not an assurance that you won't continue to suffer alone. That he won't come find you curled up in a corner.

He has a recollection of Caleb finding you in the rain, where you'd hidden after an argument. Trembling because you didn't know what else to do but hide from all the feelings. All the fear and sorrow. He'd felt useless then, not knowing all the places you'd hide to lick your wounds. He feels useless still, watching you put up walls he can't get through… because he has his own to contend with.

Yours are agonised, lonely and twisted around your heart.

His are ice cold to touch, and sharp as thorns around his body.

Zayne stands, and then tries to leave, but your hand moves to grasp at his sleeve. Eyes wide and startled, you tug it carefully, and with a small voice, "Stay." Escapes you. His heart thumps, a beat skipped, and he would offer you his own heart in a second if you asked for it. He knows you never will. He watches the fear tremble your fingers as you ask for something so simple.

"I'm just going to clear up some of the bottles, and get you some water. I am still your doctor, and a hangover is hardly advisable."

You look guilty again when you pull away, releasing him to rub at your arm, and this time when he moves away you don't grab at him, let him pick bottles up and get rid of them. Watch him pour them out into your sink. He feels the weight of your gaze as he busies himself, occasionally asking for the location of things he needs.

As well as water, he makes the both of you tea. Bringing yours to the table, and returning with his own. You gratefully receive the cup from him.

"I wasn't aware you enjoyed silent movies." He comments drily when he sits down, speaking to distract himself when you attach yourself against his side. Glancing down to see your fingers tighten against the hem of his turtleneck, he replaces your grip and holds your hand again. Grounding you, grounding himself, when he squeezes, loosens, squeezes. Feels the heat of your hand in his, the weight of you.

Remembers you're here. You're alive.

It's all that matters to him, your life. He wishes you valued it as highly as he does, as highly as you value everyone else's.

"I didn't even realise it was muted." You laugh, leaning forward to quickly turn the sound on, before returning to his side. "I was a little distracted."

He stays, to watch the movie with you, at the start you laugh, relaxing a little, and talking about it. Commenting on things he can tell you've already seen a hundred times. He barely watches, enough just to comment, or nod along, but mostly he watches you. Watches as the sorrow eases out into something he remembers more. Soft, and relaxed and happy. After a little while, your eyes begin to droop.

The alcohol pulls you past the emotional ride, and into exhaustion.

Zayne realises he wants to see you relax more often, losing the formality you wear as a hunter, holding his name as Zayne, and not Doctor. He wants to see you laugh, and smile more often.

"You should get to bed." He speaks, making to move you, but the small sound of protest is already out, clinging to his side with far sturdier hands than he'd expect of a tired, drunk person. "Come on now."

You shake your head against where it has fallen to use his chest as a pillow, nuzzling against the fabric of his top. A sleepy little grumble is made against him, and he almost laughs. Almost. Fighting it down.

"Films almost over." You manage, but it's slurred.

Against his best intentions, he always does end up giving in to you, "Ten more minutes, then."

You nod, and he feels your thumb soothing over the back of his hand, absently like you don't even realise you're doing it.

"Thank you, Zayne."

"Well, I haven't watched this movie before. I may as well finish it."

You pinch his hand without real force, but he revels in the laugh he receives. "Not that."

He knows.

"Thank you for coming to see me, for caring." Your hand tenses in his, so he does to you what you did for him, rubbing circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, "I-" A yawn, and he watches you, head drooping, eyes closed, voice petering out as you succumb. "really-" You get quieter, and he has to lean to hear, "like you, Zayne."

You're asleep before he can respond, so he carefully moves, so he can lay a blanket over you. Leaving some medicine on the side, for if you wake up with a headache, that the water you've drunk hasn't taken away.

Turns off the tv, and closes your curtains. He wants to move you to your bed, but if he jostles you awake, he foresees you clinging to him and staving off sleep even longer.

As he goes through the motions, pulling his coat back on, he plays it over in his head.

I really like you, Zayne.

It circles around his head as he moves, skitters his heart. Nestles there. You're unlikely to remember you've even said it. Unlikely to show him this level of vulnerability again, though he hopes you do. Lower your weapons and your armour down, and let him take care of you.

When he kneels down at your side, brushing strands of hair back from your face, "Just stay alive for me, that's all I need." Everything else can come second, everything else he can think about after. He just wants time.

Even if he never returns your words, or speaks them out loud. He knows he'll always love you, more than you will ever know.

[eluxcastar]

HII, girl I'm LITERALLY OBSESSED W YOUR WRITING AND I'VE NEVER BEEN INTO DOTTORE TGIS MUCH, And I love you dadtore fics, if it's possible, can you make a fic where reader comes back from kindergarten and asks him when her bday is bc it was their friend's bday and poor Dottore doesn't know and tries to find reader's parents to ask them for their bday to find out it's in a few days?? THANK YOU SM AND I'M NOT FORCING BTWW!!!!

Dadtore sends his raccoon child to kindergarten

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: dadtore finally lets someone else watch his raccoon child for a while, except they accidentally learn birthdays exist, and then he's gotta figure out when theirs is

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, not proofread, details of reader's backstory are still a bit ambiguous (perhaps at the detriment of the story), again mentions reader being mute but you can ignore it and idk pretend they said something, can't promise it's in character I'm super rusty

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

THANK YOUUUU

this is like the perfect setup for him to join a pta or something LMAO

he probably should've tested this child for rabies, but anyway, enjoy this chaos. I finally got inspiration after playing minecraft on this modpack. a raccoon got into my chicken pen and chilled with the chickens until I put a tasmanian devil in there that killed the chickens and became besties with the raccoon. I saw those little guys together and was like "I have to make ocs out of this" then was like DOTTORE'S RACCOON CHILD, so here we are

You have never been fussed over quite so much as you are today. Dottore has been trying to get you ready to be watched by someone else for once. All you can focus on is how Omega stands in the back with his arms folded over his chest while he scoffs at the softness Dottore has adopted when he sits you down on the edge of the closest empty table to clean the crumbs off your face after you scarfed down a cookie Tartaglia snuck you earlier.

He won't allow you to go to such an unfamiliar place like kindergarten without wiping your dirty hands and pressing a cloth to your plushy little cheeks in hopes of making you at least somewhat presentable. You will never shake the lingering dirt under your fingernails or the habit of smearing everything across your fingers in an attempt to have fun with the messes you can make.

Perhaps you're too old for a place like kindergarten, but everyone has to start somewhere. Dottore is not ready to send you to school, a place he sees as a stressful commitment that will consume more and more of your time, which he's unwilling to relinquish.

As much as Dottore resists the depth of his affection for you, a part of him refuses to send you away for too long out of some unfamiliar feeling of...fear. It is awful. It is a battle he fights within himself between the factions that war against loving you and missing you. He is discovering the parental woes of attachment after months of taking your presence for granted as if you will always be lingering in his lab.

It will be quiet. Some of Dottore's segments might be happy you're not around to knock his tools on the floor or almost break glass jars whenever you put your hands up to implore him to let you help. Dottore will, unfortunately, miss it more than he'd like to admit.

You try to mask your nervousness with a facade of excitement as if you're eagerly anticipating the adventure of a new place, but the truth is, the nerves are gnawing at you just as they are at Dottore. Since coming here, you have seldom been away from him, and it was nice. His presence is comforting. You stand there, clapping your hands in a show of readiness, while Dottore helps you with your backpack, stealing your arms to guide them into the straps before settling it on your shoulders and ensuring you're all set.

Though Dottore can't feed himself for the life of him, he knows how to make you a sandwich to get you through the day and cut the crusts off as you'd silently asked by never eating them, only to present him your empty plate with nothing but the crusts. He cut them off this morning before packing your lunch into your backpack for you. He added some snacks, most of which were made by other people who were far better at cooking than him, like the small cakes Arlecchino gave him once the children at the House were done with them.

She worries for you too much, even when you've lived this long without facing more than a fever. Dottore panicked enough when you had that to scare him into wiping your hands and making you blow your nose. If you were going to be injured by anything, it would be the many possible weapons lying around his lab. His efforts to conceal those in the way he did when he reorganised the materials. The segments will leave those anywhere without regard for it, safe for the occasionally conscious few who worry enough about you to be a little more spacially aware.

Kindergarten was her idea once she discovered you had received no formal education.

Dottore can hear Omega walking away once he grows tired of watching him dote on you like a sentimental father. He finally takes your hand to lead you away, squeezing your little hand in his, marred by the fear you might suddenly disappear if he does not stay with you. The fear of losing you is a constant.

-

Getting you to stay at kindergarten in his absence was difficult when you couldn't stop snivelling and whimpering for him to remain, and he felt awkward. Having a Harbinger bring you to school was bad enough, but he was capable of making your caregivers nervous just by nervously nudging you into their arms. At least he knows you'll be treated well. She tried to get you to come to play with the other children and show you the various games and crafts, but you had none of it out of some deep-seated fear that Dottore might not return.

Coming home is easier as you are in his arms the moment you see him, swept off your feet with your eyes filled with joy. You hug him more tightly than you ever have before. He would kiss your head if only that paternal love for you felt real, but his fear of reciprocation keeps him from anything more than a tight squeeze until you kick your legs around to make him release you.

You greet him with crumbs on your face from a cake not quite like the one he sent you off with, inspecting it before he takes the handkerchief from his pocket, which he always uses to wipe your face. Dottore swipes the mess away.

"They wouldn't let me clean them up," the caregiver who had tried so very hard to calm you quickly attempts to excuse herself. "No touching," she adds. "That's dad's job, I take it?"

Dad's job. He supposes he is listed as being your father on the registration papers, and he arrived with you. You clung to him, teary-eyed and unwilling to leave his side for about ten minutes. Every child wants their parents to stay, she'd told him. To think you didn't like her touching you is strange to him when you have always been ok with him doing so—he practically threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes when he found you.

You didn't care before, but now you do, and he has no idea why. Dottore won't bother asking when you're too busy flicking your fingers against his earring, watching the liquid inside the vial slosh against the glass for entertainment as it sways back and forth.

"Where did it come from?" he questions, wondering what you'd put in your mouth for later if you wanted it again.

"Chocolate cake," she tells him. "One of the other children brought it in for her birthday."

Birthday? The thought of you having a birthday has never crossed his mind, but when he hears the word from the caregiver's mouth, his mind races as he realises he doesn't know your birthday in the first place. He pats his hand against the small of your back as you seem to once again settle into place in his arms like it's the comfiest place in the world.

The look you give him is more than enough to glean that you want to know the answer, too, and if you do have an answer, you want to know why he hasn't questioned it. He'd have to find your parents to discern that. He doesn't know almost anything about you that he didn't decide or contribute, save for your name, as you haphazardly wrote it down on a piece of paper you were scribbling all over.

But for a birthday...things are different.

-

He does not appreciate you blowing a party horn at him. You treat it like any child treats something that makes a loud noise, and you continue to blow it incessantly the whole way home. It drives him crazy to hear nothing but that loud, ear-grating sound.

"Where did you get that?" he finally asks. However, he won't take it away, seeing as it distracts you from your earlier fit. Your adventure has been quelled by a need to have someone in your life who can care for you the way you have become used to, but he almost doesn't mind the way you cling.

You blow the horn at him as an answer, even when it does not suffice. It is more noise than you've ever made in response to him, even if it comes through a party horn.

"I suppose you wonder about your birth, then?" he questions at last.

You blow the horn again. Dottore watches it unravel in a spiral and puffs with your breath as the sound rings out again in a rough, wavering blight to the silence. In a way, he almost likes it, endeared by it, if begrudgingly.

"There might not be an answer," he tells you honestly, unable to lie. He sees no point in it, not about this. He's not one for sugarcoating what he tells you, even if he suspects they'll upset you. You need to hear them all.

There's no horn in response to that. You're quiet. As the moments, then seconds, pass, you take the party horn from your mouth, now a touch grossly covered in a sheen of your saliva, and only nod as you usually do. It's a bit sombre, marred by the sting of disappointment Dottore sees in the depths of your eyes so fixed on the path ahead or the movement of your fingers as you play with your newest toy.

With a hand against your upper back, he pats you. "I'll search for one," he assures you despite that, and his hand slips away without another word.

-

He finds looking for answers difficult. He does most of it after you've drifted off to sleep, resting in the same place you always do beneath the coat that has long become yours as much as it is his.

Your party horn was confiscated by a segment who couldn't stand hearing you blow on it at all hours, thinking it was funny, but once it found the highest shelf far beyond your reach, you soon forgot it as you settled right back into your familiar place.

You spend long days far from where you feel safest, and much of it is spent...reasonably happy. You befriended the child whose birthday cake you got all over your face, and each day, you would return to him with her in tow. You grow inseparable from the girl until the very moment he returns you to this same lab you are so used to.

You busy yourself as you always have while Dottore tries to find traces of someone searching for a child of your rough age, first in the area where he met you and then further.

At a point, he grew desperate, the dwindling sources weighing on him as the sting of failure settled in despite his telling you that he may not find anything. He wanted to provide you with something after all the time he spent leaving you without answers, wondering. It was a simple pleasure.

He briefly considers lying but knows it would do you no good. He has rarely told you lies, but the thought of you never knowing a day when you smeared your own cake on your face is oddly sad.

Then he finds it.

It is only the whisper of a couple who searched for their child and then stopped, but one of his segments presents it all the same.

On the surface, the couple found who they were looking for and returned to their happy lives in the Snezhnayan countryside without incident, but nothing actually indicates that they found the child they were looking for—no thanks to the people who had helped look, no entries in local papers—only that the efforts abruptly ended.

Innocuously, Dottore presents a kamera to you and asks for a picture, not bothering to mention that he intends to show it to people he hopes with recognise your face.

So, Dottore travels back out to the little town where they had lived—personally this time—hoping to find answers without going through a chain of other people just to find hints. Doing all of that had been exhausting, but it's arguably worse for a Harbinger to walk through the streets of a town that had never known the presence of one, knocking on doors for a couple most claimed to have heard nothing from in months.

The quaint little cottage he approaches after a long day spent questioning a town filled with people who didn't want to be questioned belied the effort it took, a pillar of smoke rising from the chimney of a house much older than you, yet which you perhaps once resided in. Something about it carves a sinking pit into his stomach like it confirms his fears that you have a home waiting for you to return to it.

The door greets the beat of his hand with a firm knock, and the shuffle of feet, and a weathered old man appears in the doorway. At first, he seems indifferent to the sight, then his brows knit together in confusion before he pales at the realisation of who—or rather what—has found his doorstep.

"Did you find them?" the man blurts out before Dottore can even speak a word.

Within cautious seconds, Dottore pulls the picture he had taken of you from somewhere within his coat. The man's trembling fingers close around the edges of the picture, and Dottore finally notices one is poorly bandaged.

The man's thumb brushes across the image, tracing your smiling face with a familiar fondness and the gleam of tears threatening his eyes. He would not have seen you in months, if not a year. All of that time, you have lived with Dottore after he snatched you up and kept you from freezing to death in the middle of nowhere.

The man reluctantly invites him inside, offering him a chair at the cramped, cluttered table. He leaves his overcoat across the back of the chair, rejecting the offers of anything to drink or eat as he notices the old man's shuffled steps and unsteady feet.

"I hadn't expected a Harbinger to be looking for my grandchild," the man says. "But some surprises are pleasant. My daughter never had pictures of them to give out. People in these parts don't have fancy kameras like this. I thought nobody would ever find them."

He almost appears to treat that picture, the image of you, the only one he has, as a priceless treasure. Despite that evident love and affection, he frowns.

"My daughter is gone now," he continues. Dottore doesn't ask what that means, guessing enough to tell it's nothing good. The man's shaking hands still grasp that picture. "Can I keep this?" he asks.

"I have no further use for it," Dottore answers. The man only nods and sets it on the table in front of him, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a wry smile.

He looks up after a while. "Where have they been?" he asks. "They look well."

Dottore pauses, wondering if he should tell the truth. Hearing that your grandchild has been living in a stranger's lab, surrounded by dangers, would not be reassuring. More importantly, it might prompt him to ask for you back.

Despite knowing he should, he's not eager to give you back. "At the House of the Hearth," he replies.

"The Knave's orphanage," he nods in understanding, considering something. "Might they be able to stay there?" he asks.

It takes Dottore by surprise.

-

Dottore leaves with a simple book and a greater understanding of how you came to be where you were at the time you had—how he found you. When he returns to find you curled up with a younger segment in a blanket fort after playing in the lab for the evening. A day at kindergarten should've tired you out, but it seems you had a lot of energy to spare and spent it all as you do when he leaves someone else to care for you in his stead.

You pick the segments apart by now—you know they exist—but letting them pick you up never really seems like trouble to anyone else.

By morning, you are awake and darting about, getting into all the things you shouldn't and having all the fun you know you can here. You stand at the table's edge on your toes and look over the edge at what Dottore is doing. You take well to this life—this routine—and he can see as much.

"I found you something," he tells you. "Your grandfather."

You look at him curiously, eyes lighting in a way he has seen only a few times before.

"He was looking for you," he continues, his hand reaching across the table to slide you a largely inconsequential spare part to fiddle with, as you so often like to do. Your little hand takes it, and you disappear behind the edge of the table as you look at it. After a moment, you reappear, your arms draping over the table, the screw he gave you twiddled between your fingers. "He told me many things about you, including when you were born."

Dottore resists the urge to touch your hair, leaving you to your devices. He must remind himself that he is not your father, though he knows he shouldn't have to. Dottore should have returned you to your home the moment he found it or taken you to the House of the Hearth as he claimed he had.

He stills his hand before it reaches you. "Did chocolate cake become your favourite?"

You look up at him, nodding excitedly. You had made a new friend on her birthday, learned of your grandfather's search for you, and followed her in her affections for chocolate cake, as children do. If you would speak, he imagines you rambling off plenty about your little friend and all you do together. He's not quite sure what you do with her. He knows she makes you happy.

You are growing into this home well, even when this home was not made for you.

"Chocolate it is, then," he concludes.

[dramalove247]

Favorite Things: Century of Love pt 1

Some series get better the more you think about it and this is definitely one of those. There are so many layers to this story and the characters. You expect popcorn from a story that starts with a magic rock and a goddess that is launching a BL ship, but this story ended up being an entire meal.

Century of Love is definitely going to need a re-watch. It's so easy to get caught up in the immediate action and loose focus on the complex themes woven throughout the series. Love the exploration around fate vs choice, stagnation vs growth, love and loss, trauma and healing, prejudice, forgiveness. This show gives us so much to explore and digest. Re-watching it will be so satisfying, someday, when we have the emotional bandwidth to handle all this show dishes out.

Spoilers ahead with discussions and posts about some of the many reasons we loved this series:

We are huge suckers for a red thread. This scene had us instantly hooked and smiling. @namtan gave us 😍 GIFS:

@jimmysea put together a great post showing so much of the cute Episode 6 gave us right before the story starts heaping on the pain.

Ready for more pain? Every time we revisit these scenes, it hurts all over again. But apparently we are here for the pain because we love them. @heretherebedork put together a great post about Vee not being able to say goodbye and lot go of those he loves. Ironically, the only way for Vee to save San is to let go. It hurts so much and we love it!

This scene was devastating. Everything about it was epic and so well done, we love it more than is healthy! @heretherebedork once again put together a great post highlighting some of the layers that make this scene so rich:

😍 And @wanderlust-in-my-soul capture the scene so well in this gorgeous GIFS:

This scene was so bitter sweet. Both of them look like they are seconds away from shattering to pieces. 💔 This part of the story was devastating and the acting was perfect. Offroad looks like he already had a hard cry. @wanderlust-in-my-soul again gave us stunning GIFS:

"Please don't do this if you don't want me." This script is great! Thank you @namtan for GIFS of this great scene:

This series had so many beautiful scenes, it's impossible to choose a favorite. But this scene was definitely up there. Plus the acting was equally 😍 @poetry-protest-pornography had a great post with stunning GIFS of this scene:

@gay-meowmeow cracked us up with this!

❤ There were too many posts we loved to share them all here! Find more in Part 2

[some-random-duck]

List of my top ten favorite Yokai from Yo-Kai watch in order from most to least favorite or something idk

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Thurston: I love everything about him! Like, when the game first came out I literally wrote pages and pages of Wattpad-style fanfiction about him with so many different characterizations, to the point that his different interpretations split off into two separate OCs who I still have to this day, who I then shipped him with along with his other two versions, Draculadoji and Shutencaesar. I was very normal about him.

Tattlecakes: I also love her design, she seems so friendly and sweet, plus I love an old lady character who can still kick your ass. When I wasn't writing about Thurston getting shipped with himself, I was writing Yo-kai Watch Blasters found family fanfiction where Thurston and Tattlecakes meet with other yokai while trapped in a dungeon and then they bond while trying to escape together.

Jibanyan: Yeah, he's the mascot character, but he's the mascot for a reason. He's got a strong personality, he's funny, has an amazing backstory that never fails to make me cry no matter how many times I watch/play it, was really cool in YKW Shadowside, and serves as a perfect foil for whisper's tomfoolery.

Rattelle: She's an icon, a legend, a fashionista, and so much more. I adore her design, and would love to cosplay her someday, and she has enough presence in the games to where she has a fairly established characterization as sassy, confident, and style-savvy. If archaeologists ever find my bones, they won't even be able to misgender me because I'll be serving 100% Rattelle.

Usapyon: He's a perfect companion and foil for Hailey-Ann, I love the twist that he's an otter, and not a rabbit, and he's so cool, funny, and cute at the same time. His backstory was genuinely so bittersweet and it makes me cry whenever I revisit the third game. Also, space and Star Wars reference.

Shutendoji: I love him, from his story about the fall of the Oni tribe's rule and trying to bring back the original ruler, to his relationship with Douketsu and Shuka, and all the stuff in between that I can't quite call to mind right now. I hated him in Shadowside though, he felt like a totally different character. He also looks cool.

Foiletta: You would think she's a mean girl until she helps you put a curse on your cheating ex, also she was super helpful during my first run of Yo-Kai Watch 2.

Mermother: Gorgeous, powerful, has the 10/10 best soultimate no notes.

Whyvern King: If I'm being honest I mostly like him because he looks like Great Value Thurston.

Fukurou: He's my poor little meow meow. That's all.

[enchanteriv]

Jeffrey Russo

Teresa's good acquaintance and close friend. Let's just say... a friend with "benefits". Because they both don't see each other in a relationship and just have a good time together.

Anyway, her family likes him and he is someone who knows how to make the "right" impression so has a lot of friends, acquaintances and connections.

He used to work at one of her father's hotels as a manager, but suddenly quit. Now he says he's got a better job, and Tess would be well advised to ask what he actually does.

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[evelynpr]

Might be a hot take as a bkdk and tgck truther here, but I find izuocha endlessly fascinating, beautiful, but also tearfully tragic.

I see their love for each other as something representative of their innocence and naivety when they only knew so little about who they were, and what was to come.

I think the main barrier of their relationship is that its rooted in how they see each other very idealistically, specifically that they're attached to the image of their Best Heroic Selves, and not the deeply selfish, destructive, freaky, and egotistical parts of them. To each other, they need to keep fulfilling that image or else that same person they looked up to would almost die in front of them, and that would be too cruel. Although that hero is still there, that same person they looked up to is not the same now because of...well...everything.

Izuku had barely even talked to girls when he first met her. She was Izuku's first ever real friend (Sorry Kats, everyone and him knows he was terrible), so he saved her in that entrance exam even if it was so dangerous. She gave a new meaning to his derogatory nickname just by being a friend that believed in him. After that, she saved him several more times (Blackwhip and Megaphone are the biggest samples iirc). It makes perfect sense that she is Deku's hero.

Ochako hardly knew what it meant to be a hero when she first got into UA. Just by reaching out to some kid tripping, she made a new friend who would then save her in that exam, then save him again in return. This boy then became someone who was always working so hard to save everyone in trouble, and she realized she wanted to be just like him too. "I want to save people"

But...Deku changes. The weight of One for All is on his shoulders and he needs someone to carry this burden with him. He continues to want to save other people at the expense of himself, still not letting his true selfishness and ego ever show- and it only grows more and more unbearable.

Then...Ochako fell in love with Himiko. Truly, relentlessly, selfishly and devotedly in love with a girl who then dies giving her blood to her- the greatest expression of love Himiko could ever give.

Not that they can't love each other because of this happening (and...so many other things oh god), I'm honestly not sure how to explain it- But them ending up together after losing that innocence and naivety? After Ochako will forever grieve the girl who showed her love in its most beautiful and ugly form? After Izuku changed so fundamentally as a person that the butterflies of a nice girl talking to you doesn't exist anymore? After that simple image of being a hero and being in love has completely changed for them both?

Even so, I believe they still love each other. There is no label I know of that can properly describe them though. They are each other's image of being a hero when it comes to saving people. Aside from Shoto, no one else can grasp the grief of the person you tried to save dying in your hands. They would no doubt try to cope with these losses together, and just try to get better together...but so much has changed. They've changed. The world changed. What are they now? Who are they now?

"What happened...to us?"

[mohntilyet]

Personal headcanon about the "you picked the wrong dellamorte" line, I don't think illario actually likes rook outside the context of them being someone close to lucanis. Like rook on their own isn't much to him, but when they meet it's yet another person talking about his cousin (why isn't he good enough for whatever job they're hiring for?) and on top of that they somehow bring him back from the dead (another whole can of worms for illario). Now he starts turning on the charm, but whether he's actually interested or this is just one more thing his cousin has that he doesn't and it gets under his skin, who knows. Either way, rook ignores illario, the guy who lives off his charm, and is instead interested in the guy who's never even dated before and thinks giving someone a knife is how to flirt. Infuriating

NO THANK YOU !! i am genuinely sorry if i have ever implied illario is into rook like i see some takes about it and unless it like ties into your rook's personal backstory i don't seriously think he's romantically jealous. at all. my enjoyment of that line stems from illario's pathological need to make it about himself and not see his strengths but what lucanis has, and therefore what he doesn't. he's annoyed enough to try and goad you in the middle of a fight about the 'wrong' dellamorte and completely blind to the fact that the venatori are at best, a stupid fucking alliance, and at worst, a cult that will devour the crows from the inside out and illario would have been the one to give them the keys. he sees lucanis make allies, needs his own, and instead of charming the other talons/houses as he should, he (probably spitefully) picks the venatori. or maybe he just thought it would be easier. ugh he makes me want to telekenetically throw him around

[fisherrprince]

You have made me interested in balloon smp but I feel so old and of touch because I cannot find the past streams on twitch. Cannot figure out where and in which order to watch...can I ask where you've been watching the videos/streams?

ok, so, there’s ~36 people all doing it concurrently, which is a lot. But! Here is the list of players, if you know someone you like on that list pick them and just watch sequentially day 1->finale. if you don’t know Anyone on there and you want a point to start at for just. Getting most of the plot, pick someone from A B or C. Or E. Team F has a really great plot but they stay a bit out of the overarching plot until the last weeks, and I haven’t gotten to team D yet so I don’t know what they know im sorry team d 🥺

Many of the players have VOD channels up on YouTube or playlists of balloon vods specifically, lots of people who don’t have the streams in their twitch archives somewhere (like, “past broadcasts” usually), look for player vod channels. Some don’t have saved archives and some didn’t stream it! I know for certain sophie robby skull kuu gibson buggle and jame have up to date vod channels because I’ve seen them… woops and skullvolver are making edited videos rn but theyre Both team a… and im not sure who else is planning on it!

tldr, pick someone and watch them in order and peek in on other peoples’ vods from time to time when something Happens because sometimes seeing it from another angle is cool. Also, sometimes seeing it from another angle is Important because there’s Lore no one else got to see. Search “playername vods” on YouTube and it should direct you to the right place.

more specifics that kinda get into spoilers:

Here’s some plots of interest that certain people see and others don’t (ONLY BASED ON WHAT I KNOW I am not a lore master I don’t have 36x8x32… uh… good gravy 576 possible hours. of content. I DONT HAVE 576 HOURS TO SIT AND WATCH STREAMS someone was going to put together a lore doc somewhere though):

woops: tries to keep track of lore, goes on ghost knight swordquest

sophiebaybey: unwitting accessory to world murder, sees WAY more of PG and balloons lore than most people on account of The Events.

skullvolver/socksbx: revenant revengequest x2 and soul link plot, also socks is a mod and they get up to some funny business. poke in and watch one of them for the end of day 14 trust me 🫵

robbydude: doomer gnome made me cry but that’s not important. ghostquest continues upon the holy land even if we DONT WANT IT TO. jerry mouse is there

jame7t: sees kind of all of it from a distance, good coverage, citadel time (I like building streams)

shinigamieater: it’s possession clues. What if you were 15 ants of dubious morality in a human body

padabana: instigates the end of the world, once if you’re realistic twice if you’re being pedantic. it’s paranoia clues

kaoiji: there’s time travel, and it gets worse from there but I can’t FIND their vods so im redirecting you to robbydude

renobee: GOD??????????

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[anistarrose]

terrible breaking news: person who shares your exact queer headcanon for Blorbo is also baselessly saying said queer identity is "basically canon" and unambiguously the author's intent, therefore making you look bad for sharing that headcanon while they go about giving the creators way too much credit

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Magneto had a really great character arc in the 80s which just got completely chucked in the bin because the new editor taking over the title thought that he should always be a one-note maniacal villain, and I'm disappointed to see X-Men '97 doing the same because the ex-showrunner wanted to recreate his favourite issue.

[infizero-draws]

born sexy yesterday

[bridgyrose]

Seeing stuff coming up about Taiyang again makes me feel like I'm reading the whole situation differently than a lot of people. And I think a lot of it comes from the fact that there's a lot of unknowns that we still dont know about Ruby and Yang's childhood.

Like, in Yang's own words, she notes that Taiyang "Shut down" and that she "had to pick up the pieces" but she never really elaborates on any of it. But at the same time, I have a really hard time saying that Taiyang is a bad parent because there's soo much we dont know. We dont know what happened when he shut down, just instances that note that he was still there for them. We dont know what picking up the pieces meant for Yang, just that she felt like she had to be a parent for Ruby. And on top of all of that, Taiyang was a single parent trying to raise two kids while dealing with depression. That's not an easy task.

Maybe if we ever get the full story of how Ruby and Yang were raised, maybe that'll change my mind, but until then, all I really see is a parent doing his best to raise two kids in a really rough situation where his best might not have been great.

One of these days I should do a character analysis on him because this feels like a situation where Yang can still be right and wrong with a lot that she's mentioned. Especially since the whole situation is similar to how I grew up, only with my mom there.

[asleepinawell]

every time i overhead smash something with my giant hammer i imagine it's this pop up

[sonknuxadow]

i think i do want amy and rouge to be in the next sonic movie, especially if its gonna be an sa2 adaptation, but i cant help but worry that if they try to introduce shadow AND rouge AND amy in the same movie then at least one of those characters (most likely amy. tbh.) isnt gonna get the amount of screentime and development that they deserve. especially considering in the game timeline amy was introduced much earlier and by sa2 was already an established character while rouge and shadow were the newcomers. and then theres also the human characters who are gonna be making the cast a lot bigger than it was in the game so more people to divide the screentime among. like what if amy is in sonic 3 and she gets like 5 minutes of screentime and her big moment with shadow is given to another character again