#their romance will progress at the speed of rent-a-girlfriend

[screamingcrows]

Hold me the way that you would (for the final time)

Note: Listen. This was uh- a spur of the moment thing. Takes place directly after Tie a tether here. Do not fucking feed this to ai, I'll get you Trypanosoma rhodesiense. Link to the not-a-series. Link to the song I took the title from Warnings/tags: MDNI, Dottore x female OC, mentions of previous self harm (specifically cutting, scratching), mild delusions (the psychotic kind, not the vision mimics), mild suicide ideations, mental breakdown, not established relationship, bad comfort. Minors, ageless, and blank blogs DNI

The faint buzzing of electro coming from various machinery was almost pleasant to Celeste's ears, giving her something else to focus on rather than the guilt currently sticking like a mass of tar in her throat, impossible to swallow around yet still not enough to cut off her air.

Dottore's incessant muttering as well. Why was he the only version seemingly incapable of communicating with the other segments without letting broken phrases spill from his lips. Maybe he wanted her to hear this? Hear as he no doubt berated her to them. Why would he rub it in like this, he wasn't cruel, was he?

Still, whatever words were spoken didn't reach her ears, everything swimming in her mind save for the buzz and a dull throb as unbidden voices rammed the weak fortifications Dottore's grip on her wrist provided. He was right, he always was, it didn't feel better, she just- it was all numb. How the voices always made her forget and coaxed to bloodshed was beyond her.

Stupid. Ah, when had she started crying again?

Slipping further and further from reality, Celeste barely noticed Dottore stopping, not when she smacked into the firm mass of muscle, not when grasped her chin and scrutinized her expression, not even when he gave up and threw her over his shoulder. There was only the faintest awareness that something wet was still trailing down her arms, dripping in a familiar enough trail into the depths of connected laboratories. At least it got to be severed from her.

It was with little fanfare that her body was deposited onto familiar cold metal, ears twitching as they barely picked up on a gruff 'down we go' from Dottore. Celeste could already feel the ghastly hands of her own subjects - victims - reaching from the blank surface, wrapping around her limbs and attempting to pull her under.

If this was death, then it felt wholly underwhelming. It was both numb and downright bland, no care left in her to be properly afraid as they whispered threats and promises of relief, slowly dragging her into a mirror that couldn't be worse than this. It was, after all, what she wanted wasn't it?

A shaky thumb, warmer than the others, almost comfortable, like porcelain after pouring a cup of tea, dragged across her cheek.

"You-" Celeste blinked, studying the face that hovered above her for an unnecessary amount of time, "you're not Delta."

"What an astute observation. As expected from my most brilliant assistant."

His clipped sarcasm didn't even sting, she deserved it for making mess after mess for him to clean up. Utterly worthless. Had there been a hint of exhaustion in his voice as well? He'd only just returned from a longer expedition, and here she was, causing problems.

"You said Delta would take care of," she gestured vaguely at herself, unable to pinpoint exactly what the poor segment could even hope to fix.

She wanted to offer doing it herself, but even through that damnable haze of cackling laughter and moving shadows, Celeste recognized the folly of thinking herself capable of anything. A minuscule comfort that she at least retained that level of awareness.

"Lying is hardly the worst sin you've seen me commit," it stung when he turned his back, and Celeste almost wanted to reach for him, feeling misery fill her lungs with every quickening breath he was away, "and will you kindly be quiet? It's impossible to focus."

Before she could protest, or even process the words, a rough palm placed itself gingerly on her shoulder, clearly trying to avoid any of the lacerations she'd left. Taking the hint, Celeste struggled to turn, face pressed against the cool metal as she closed her eyes, refusing to risk meeting that same abrasive reflection she'd seen in his bathroom.

"Celestia above." Hearing those words from his lips might have made her laugh under any other circumstances, now it was just a shameful reminder of how far she was truly pushing him.

A pained yelp escaped when fingers tangled in her hair, yanking firmly to lift her head. She had half a mind to hiss and writhe, tail already swishing vehemently when a familiar white coat was pushed under her head and she was carefully released.

Ground coffee and the sharpness of isopropyl did little to properly mask the earthy tones, he could've given her any of their lab coats, knowing there were always generous numbers scattered around the room, but this was so distinctly his. With her eyes closed, it almost felt like a hug. The fabric didn't stay dry for long as salty tears soaked into it.

It perfectly masked the inferno raging across her skin with the gentle press of cotton, washing away the crimson streaks in preparation. The fabric crumpled beneath in her grip, uncaring as sharp nails tore into it, better that than succumb to the urges to rend her own flesh in front of him. He'd already said there would be a scolding, what more would another thing ruined do?

How long had passed when a sting, far more tangible, had her body jolting back to reality was uncertain, but the hand swiftly pressing itself between her shoulder blades to weigh her down was no mirage.

"Oh for- stay still while I close this."

That got her immediate attention, attempting to twist under his iron grip, only prompting more hissed curses and a familiar - pleasant - scratch of something sharp tearing open the outermost layer of skin when his hand slipped.

"Keep that up and I won't hesitate to strap you to the damn table."

He'd properly snapped, like a wild beast, that hint of Beta's core showing itself as it only did when thoroughly stressed, whatever excursion he'd been on must've been bad. Or he was just angry with her. What little dignity was left made Celeste be grateful for the temporary relief as pain seared her nerves, calming down enough that Dottore's palm eased the pressure.

"Could've at least used a local anesthetic…"

"I certainly could," Dottore clicked his tongue, clearly struggling to keep his voice even, "but right now-"

The rest trailed off to a low murmur, just out of reach as Celeste strained her ears. But she understood the meaning. Of course she didn't deserve for this to be any semblance of pleasant. It made it easier to bite into the fabric and tune out the world, focused only on how it hurt, it was tangible and easy. She didn't even catch the shaky breath he took before picking the needle back up.

Focusing on the clatter of cages stacked in a corner, little rustles as the rodents went about their routines, soothed the remnants of unrest, her jaw slowly unlocking as she released the coat, now drenched in tears and saliva. The hands that rubbed carefully at her sides weren't the source of this borrowed serenity.

Neither did it bring any comfort when he came to sit on the edge of the table, hand refusing to part with her ruined shoulders.

"You've never once mentioned harboring these feelings"

"It's none of your business and-"

"It became my concern the moment-" his grip tightened for a moment, that thing akin to anger in his voice mellowing out as he continued, "the moment you decided to bleed out on my floor."

"-and I've told you multiple times that I felt empty," Celeste made certain her voice reflected the exhaustion in her bones, sniffling a little for good measure in a futile hope it might dissuade further arguments, "shouldn't be too hard to figure out the rest…"

"You should've been direct. As convenient as it would be, I've yet to fully devise an instrument letting me read your thoughts."

That caught Celeste's attention, turning her head to look at the man hovering above her. He looked about as plagued as she felt, captivating agnidus agates sunken into their sockets, cerulean hair tousled, and the telltale scruff that lined his jaw, firmly cementing his identity among them all. If she could, she'd wish to cut out parts of herself as well. Would it be better, she wondered, if parts of her could be killed?

That's not how it works.

"Fully?"

Tentative hints of a grin grazed his lips, the little flash of sharp teeth making her curl up just a little.

His eyes flashed, pushing her flat against the table again, "Quit it, I didn't stitch you up just to you tear them immediately," a sigh as she stilled before that small hint of relief reappeared, "it's good to see your curiosity remains unharmed."

"So you were bluffing."

"I do think calling it a 'jest' would be far more appropriate."

Annoying as it was, the distraction had brought the slightest hint of warmth to her chest. What a ridiculous idea, though she supposed what Omega and a few others had been tinkering with in the Akasha wasn't too far from it.

A sigh left her lips, moving slowly to sit beside him while wasting no time wrapping the white coat around her bare torso. It was frigid in there now that feeling was slowly returning.

"I'll go back to rest," Celeste hated how it came out as more of a question, about to add something to mask the uncertainty when Dottore perked up.

"Absolutely not," his grip shifted to just above her knee, "and that is non negotiable. I cannot force you to speak, but you are staying here until I am certain you can refrain from repeating this little stunt."

So much for escaping. Celeste brought a hand down to run across the back of his hand, uncertain how to proceed with how firm those words had been. It was an order, not a suggestion, which was surprisingly rare.

"Both of us need rest."

She couldn't help the amused snort at how he didn't even hesitate to gesture at the table they were seated upon in response. A pleasant chuckle echoed from his throat, and Celeste found herself relenting, leaning to lay back down whilst wiping at the salty tracks streaking across her cheeks.

"Incredible. Truly a marvel of comfort."

"If you want to be cross, there's the floor as well," a small pause, the air almost cloying with unspoken words, "you're certain you don't want to discuss what this was?"

Would it be better to just get it out, even if there was no solution or way to fix her like a machine with a few gears out of place, wasn't it still something to just say it aloud? But then there was the matter of explaining how everything had been crumbling for years. It was too personal.

And you will look weak. Weak and pathetic. You're probably on thin ice already.

Celeste nodded her head meekly, unable to look as Dottore let out a soft grunt and pushed away, moving with none of his usual suave towards a corner filled with clutter. Stacks of crates enthusiastically brought in and left half unpacked, someone really should do something about it… Before Celeste could mentally smack herself for already having volunteered herself in her mind, a blanket she usually used for keeping subjects warm before procedures landed beside her head.

"Make yourself comfortable then."

They were found by Omega at the crack of dawn, Dottore haphazardly laid out on his back, legs hanging off the side, an open notebook covering his face, and Celeste held tightly against his side.

[heniareth]

B2 for Zevran and Astala c:

BIG OLD CW FOR gore, blood and death. I gotta say, this one was a ton of fun to draw. I am evil and this scene lives rent-free in my head until I finally get to write it, which will probably be in 8 years with the speed at which I'm progressing. But!! Nothing stops me from talking about the angst. Heed the warnings, and enjoy ^^

[Ask game here]

You then boyfriends killed your girlfriend while you watched and laughed. A few weeks ago, you killed him in turn. Now the person you have truly come to love has killed a world-ending monster and died as a result. Either you are cursed or god hates you personally, but you are seriously thinking about swearing off romance alltogether. If you can pick up the shards that are you and decide to keep on living, that is.

(Don't worry, don't panic: Astala isn't quite dead. The blast from the Archdemon burned half her face off—she will have those scars for the rest of her life—and the fall after being launched into the sky by the blast badly broke her left hip, but other than that she is physically fine. The Archdemon's soul did kind of did try to do its ussal thing of immolating itself against the nearest Grey Warden, which was she. It did do a lot of damage to the hold Astala's own soul has on her body. But no worries, that tether will recover. Mostly. She will just spend the next week and a half / two weeks unconscious, and then take two weeks more to recover her faculties, memories, ability to recognize people and remember who she is... But she is very definitely not dead! She just looks very dead. Zevran is reacting appropriately 😌😌)