battlesexual



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  1. Public Bookmark 8

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    "Feofan," Dottore swallows and Pantalone can only shut his eyes, "I came here to see you. I wanted to be sure that you are okay and I..." He swallows again, "I actually have no idea why I used my proposal as an excuse but I don't want you to be mad at me."

    Dottore plans to become a god. Pantalone doesn't like this idea.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,918
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    2
    Kudos:
    86
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    03 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 29

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    These two have stolen my every thought and spot as favorite ship. I have always liked them but now I am obsessed. As for the name of his fic: mehr (also spelled mahr) is an Islamic concept, it is a mandatory gift or payment from the groom to the bride specified in the marriage contract, and it belongs entirely and irrevocably to her. It is a religious and legal requirement in Islamic marriage. it is practiced in Arab, Persian, South Asian, and Central Asian Muslim communities.

    Rated E. You've been warned.

    "How long," Feofan said.

    "Two hundred and seventeen years," Zandik said. "Give or take."

    Feofan looked at the henna book, open on the table. At the ribbon marking a specific page.

    "And the pattern," he said.

    "One hundred and forty."

    Feofan closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids the room glowed amber. The smoke from the hookah moved through the warm air and settled around him like something that had been waiting a very long time to do exactly this.

    "You are," he said, very carefully, "the most deranged man who has ever lived."

    "Yes," Zandik said.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    7,078
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    4
    Kudos:
    194
    Bookmarks:
    31
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    1,665

    03 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 8

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    “Acute hepatotoxic poisoning. An incredibly aggressive, fast-acting toxin. I’m impressed.”

    Feofan tried to smile but it took too much effort. The steady beeping in the distance dulled to a faint nuisance and the Doctor’s face blurred as a sharp pain curled in his stomach.

    “The poison,” he got out through gritted teeth, his lids fluttering. “Make me… a replica, yes?”

    “I’ll consider it if you keep your eyes open, Feofan.”

    ــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

    Pantalone gets poisoned. There’s only one person he trusts enough to save him.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,635
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    6
    Kudos:
    47
    Bookmarks:
    8
    Hits:
    165

    03 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 9

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    "He had only this: surgery, and recovery. Trauma and rehabilitation in cycles, over hundreds of years, always fresh."

    Or: Every so often, Feofan submits to the Doctor's knife.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    1,064
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    2
    Kudos:
    91
    Bookmarks:
    9
    Hits:
    527

    02 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 13

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    Where Zandik had stumbled, Dottore played perfectly. It is, technically, a superior performance. Where age had stiffened Zandik's fingers and stolen the fluid ease of youth, Dottore played without fault. If he were a fairer man, he would have complimented Dottore, whose body has never, and never will, experience the weight of time. 

    Pantalone is aware of this. He is also aware that he does not care. He will admit, nostalgia does make him a little biased, and Pantalone finds that he still prefers Zandik's playing. He's certain that he always will.

    _____

    Elaboration on the quest

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,076
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    9
    Kudos:
    99
    Bookmarks:
    13
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    429

    02 Jun 2026