#as much as i love pursuit of knowledge there are LIMITS

[fatuismooches]

OH NY GOD THE CHILDHOOD CRUSH CONCEPT BUT WITH DOTTORE 😭😭IF THAT'S OKAY?? reader is the only one who was interested in his endeavors and helped, so probably they're just as bad as him so they're partners in crime 👉👈 he's gotta have done experiments on then but they were never painful, only for them fr

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, there was a peculiar boy who seemed to never have any friends, alienated away from the others. Perhaps you could be his first one.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Yes yes yes, I love this! This is so very cute, thank you and I hope you enjoy this! The use of Dottore's real name, Zandik, is used mostly in this because, well... that's what he was called as a child. (And to be honest, if you're dating any of the Harbingers you have to be somewhat... you know. And I think pre-Fatui Dottore would be different when it comes to affection and such... so yea. Subby Dottore I guess?)

Childhood was something you cherished growing up in Sumeru. The pursuit of knowledge, the Akademiya, being a scholar, was something that was drilled into the heads of the young ones even from an early age. But when you were a child, you had the freedom to actually live, the ability to dream, to have fun, to run around and play freely without having to worry about all that boring stuff. So needless to say, you made sure to spend every second of your childhood the way you wanted as much as you could. You were going to have as much fun as possible! Perhaps that was why the rumors about the teal-haired boy did not make you waver in your pursuit to befriend him too much.

Despite the child being your neighbor, you didn’t really know much about Zandik, but what you did know was that Zandik’s mother was a kind woman. She always waved hi to you when you saw her and made small talk with you. Besides that, you never really thought about it further until your friends brought it up one day.

“That lady really seems to really like you, [Name].”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, she’s always nice to me. She even makes me Pita Pockets sometimes!”

“Her child is too creepy though,” your friend complained. You were taken aback by their statement.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Zandik’s always just been weird. That’s why no one ever plays with him. I heard that he always wants to do these weird… um, experiments I think. There are other rumors too, but I just know the way he acts is just bizarre.”

“I feel bad for her,” another one of your friends chipped in. “It must be hard to deal with such a freak. Aren’t you his neighbor, anyway? Don’t you know this?”

You just frowned and shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t really like the way they spoke about Zandik. Surely he couldn’t be as bad as they made him out to be. Maybe he was just an introvert?

Then again, you barely ever saw Zandik before. He never played with anyone, never spoke to anyone, hell, you didn’t even know if he left his house. The most often you saw him was when you happened to be walking by and caught a glimpse of him through the windows. He always quickly moved away when he was spotted though.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Just try to stay away from him, [Name].” You nodded your head, but your mind was already made up. You were determined to find out how bad Zandik actually was.

—

You did say you were going to befriend him, but you soon realized you were not sure how to go about it. You had never met someone like him before, so your choices were limited. The easiest thing you could think of was waiting near his room’s window. It was a bit embarrassing hiding behind a tree, seemingly waiting for nothing, but soon enough you saw him take a seat near the glass. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked very focused on it, and you were a bit mesmerized for a second, as this was your first real look at him. But you soon snapped out of your daze and came out from behind the tree.

“Heyyyy!” You yelled, jumping up and down, attracting his attention. Zandik’s shoulders jumped for a second at the noise, and when he looked up, he was greeted by your figure on the ground. Your expression brightened when you noticed he saw you and began to wave your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t hear clearly.

Zandik was stunned. If he recalled correctly, you were the person who lived next door. He saw you occasionally but of course, did not care much about you. So why were you here? Were you standing there the whole time? What did you want? His active mind produced many questions, but in the end, he knew what you were. Your intentions could not be different from the other children.

The boy looked at you incredulously for a moment before getting up. Your smile grew wider, oh, was he going to open the window and say something? But then he pulled his curtains shut on you, blocking your sight into his room completely. Damn it. 

Well, that failed terrifically, but it was a bit stupid now that you thought of it. You sat down against a tree and tried to think of your next plan, unaware of the now slightly drawn curtain and curious red eyes peeking out of it.

—

Any other ideas you tried had failed, and you were not sure what to do. You had become aware that he was closed off, unwilling to interact with you or any others. But this had only made you far more interested in him. So, you had only one plan left - to go directly to the person who could tell you all. And so you knocked on the front door of his house, revealing a familiar face.

“Oh? Hello, my dear! What a pleasant surprise to see you, [Name]. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Hi, ma’am. You see, I, um, have a request. I need help with something.”

“Well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you then,” Zandik’s mom affirmed.

“I want to see Zandik,” you said bluntly, shocking the woman for a second. “I want to befriend him and talk to him.”

“I-I see. It’s not every day another child comes and asks for my son. He is a… peculiar case, after all, and he doesn’t like speaking to other people. Are you sure about this?”

“Please, I really do want to be his friend,” you said resolutely. Her face softened and she relented.

“Alright, my dear. I know he usually frequents this spot…” the woman gave in and gave you directions to where Zandik apparently spent much of his time. 

As you made your way there, you were a bit in awe of how he managed to find such a place. You never knew this route existed until now. Soon, after a bit of trekking, you found an opening that boasted lush grass and smooth stones, with trees surrounding it in a circle. It was quite pretty. And then that was when you saw Zandik in the middle, his teal hair matching the greenery. For a moment, you pondered over how to approach him, but you did not need to think long since he spoke first.

“How did you manage to find this place?” His voice echoed throughout the clearing, letting you know that you were spotted. You tentatively took a few more steps closer, his small body getting bigger.

“I asked your mom,” you began, “and she told me I could find you over here.” He let out a sigh.

“Admittedly, I did not expect you to go to such drastic lengths. You are more persistent than the lot of them,” Zandik acknowledged, though still not looking up from the rather complicated and thick book he was reading. Then, he snapped it shut and stood up. 

“So, what is the reason for your tireless pursuit? Perhaps you’ve come to ridicule me? Or are you here to see whether the rumors are genuine? Do tell, I am truly curious as to what would warrant such an extended hunt.”

You were a bit stunned at that whole statement, but you only had one thing to reply with. “I mean… it’s none of those. I just want to become your friend.”

A moment of silence passed before a chuckle broke it. Then, full-out laughter rang out, echoing throughout the forest. It was almost maniacal, and you couldn’t lie that it kind of scared you a bit, but you bit your lip and remained calm.

“Aha, hehe, why, I have not heard that one yet. How creative. I must say, they are getting better at these.” After that little outburst, Zandik returned to his previous sitting position and became absorbed in his book again. You were honestly unsure of how to react to that. Did the other kids truly pick on him that much, for him to think another wanting to become his friend was a lie? You stood there unmoving until Zandik spoke again in a dismissive tone.

“You can go now. It was amusing while it lasted,” he said disinterestedly, waving his hand. You were dumbfounded but determined, so you answered back very simply.

“No. No, I won’t leave,” you declared so firmly that the boy stiffened.

“No?”

“Yes, in fact, I’m going to come over there right now. You know I wasn’t joking in the first place?” you said rather calmly, trying to seem as serious about this as possible, taking steps toward him. 

He scowled, his attention drawn from his book once again. “No, you won’t. You won’t dare to come near me,” he stated just as firmly, having recalled how the other children wouldn’t even look at him. You grinned and picked up your pace until you were only a couple of footsteps away from him, and that was when he truly realized you were not joking. Zandik hastily tried to get up to avoid you but you dashed towards him, nearly tripping as you lowered yourself to a squatting position, becoming face to face with him.

You leaned in close to Zandik’s face, your nose almost touching his. His unique, red eyes held annoyance and a variety of other negative emotions, but there was something foreign in there too, which was the reason he didn’t pull away - confusion and curiosity. You smiled.

“Well now, hopefully you finally get it into that head of yours that you are now my friend. So, why don’t you tell me about what you’re reading?”

At first, he vehemently denied your friendly advances. He’d mock you, roll his eyes at you and such, or flat-out ignore you which was what he usually did. Zandik was honestly not very welcoming, which you began to expect at a certain point. But you persisted nonetheless. You followed him around no matter where he tried to go. You’d sit close to him but not too close. You’d speak sometimes and would either be met with silence or a sarcastic remark but you began to somewhat enjoy it. You’d stretch your neck to try and read the books he always brought with him in an attempt to better understand him. Though, the day he put the book on the ground so it could be read by both of you was the day you knew you won.

Zandik would always tell you not to come back, but you always came back of course. He’d roll his eyes and scoff at your tenacity, but you came to realize that he liked it. After all, he could very well just go to another hiding place, or arrive at a completely different time if he truly didn’t want to see you. He’d never admit it, but he warmed up to you. You also learned that Zandik really liked to talk. At first, when you would ask him questions about science, he wouldn’t respond but you could see him biting the inside of his lip, restraining himself from going on a tangent. It was the first time anyone had shown any real interest in him. Zandik would ramble on about many, many things, often transferring to a new topic in the blink of an eye. Even when he spoke about less-than-pleasant things, he looked to you all excitedly to hear your thoughts. When it came to those kinds of topics you satiated him with a smile, but you always voiced your thoughts as much as possible which pleased him greatly.

Eventually, you started to invite Zandik over to your house. His mom was positively ecstatic and encouraged this behavior. And yet you didn’t do what typical children did. He wanted to do experiments. Which did not really surprise you after everything was done and said. Despite being your age, he always spoke in such an… advanced way. It was hard to describe, but he always employed these big terms and used such proper grammar and language, something that was very uncharacteristic for a child. And experimented he did. Zandik’s experiments were not limited to mixing and combining different elements but also extended to you, somehow. He wanted a strand of your hair, your eyelash, a paper with your fingerprints all over it. What he used these for, you didn’t know.

Your own parents were scholars, so even though you didn’t see them very much, they left a multitude of advanced books and texts in the house. While you had never cared for them much, Zandik devoured them with ease. Even though you invited him to your house to talk and play together, there were times he’d just take one of the books and read for the whole time, shushing you whenever you tried to speak. You had to settle for simply sitting next to him and trying to follow along, which he… surprisingly did not mind. Under his breath, he’d mutter phrases like “Khaenri’ah” and “Visions” and “ruin machines” which frankly did not make much sense to you, but you always happily entertained him.

One day, Zandik wanted to go somewhere deep in the forest. You had played around there a couple of times, but you had never entered into the depths of it, heeding the warnings of danger from the adults. Naturally, you were a bit worried and scared, but you knew that Zandik would enter with or without you, for there was no length he wasn’t willing to go to cure his curiosity. Though he would not tell you why you were making this journey, you followed him nonetheless, until you reached an area with many damaged stones and pillars. As to how he found this location, you didn’t question it.

“There it is,” Zandik said almost breathlessly. You were confused at first but then you followed his line of sight, and then you saw it. A Ruin Guard sat on the ground, unmoving. Your jaw dropped as you had never seen one of them before, only hearing about their destructiveness from others and in books.

“So you came here to look at that?”

“Indeed. But we are not merely going to look. I’m going to investigate it.”

“Huh?! But what if it awakens and attacks us?” Even though the two of you were a good distance away, you could easily tell the Ruin Guard dwarfed your tiny bodies by a great amount.

“From what I’ve read and heard, it should be deactivated. There is no need to worry,” Zandik affirmed. 

“What do you mean by ‘should be’- hey, wait up!” Before you could finish your sentence, your friend had already made his way toward the Ruin Guard. You scrambled to catch up with him and soon enough you two were close to the robot. Both of you stood there for a bit, just taking in the sight until Zandik couldn’t hold back and approached the Automaton, circling around it, clearly fascinated.

Clink.

The two of you stiffened at the sound.

“Zandik… did you hear that?” He did not respond, but soon enough your question was answered as the eye of the Ruin Guard beamed awake.

Zandik could only stare in amazement as the complex machine glowed and lit up back to life. You were momentarily shocked but you quickly regained your senses and grabbed his hand to get away from there, because you two would be dead in a couple of seconds if you didn’t move. You had to literally drag him because the machine had him in an astonished stupor.

“I thought you said it was DEAD?!?!” you practically screamed at him as the Ruin Guard lowered itself to shoot missiles at you both. You managed to hide the two of you behind a small stone wall as the projectiles hit that instead. “And snap out of it!!”

“I suppose I have miscalculated.”

“You suppose?” Your voice had quieted down so as to not bring back the attention of the robot, which was now walking around the area since it had lost sight of you. “We need to leave before it spots us again.”

“No,” he disagreed. “We’ll incapacitate it ourselves.” It took you a few seconds to process what Zandik said to you.

“Are you crazy? Ah, never mind that. I already knew you were from a long time ago. But this is something far from our level!”

“I believe that we would be able to disable it.”

“Trained adventurers have died from that thing,” you insisted.

“We aren’t adventurers. We are better than them.”

“We’re children,” you deadpanned.

“Two intelligent children,” Zandik corrected you. For a second you were shocked that he called you smart, as you did not expect that sudden compliment. You always considered him the brains and you were… the supporter from the sidelines. “Furthermore, I have a plan.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine… what is it?”

“It is quite simple. First, you will hit the eye of the Ruin Guard twice to stun it, and while it’s knocked out, I will remove the core to deactivate it.”

“...Yeah. So simple, Zandik,” you said sarcastically. “And how do you suppose I manage to hit its eye? It’s extremely tall and my aim is nowhere that good.”

“I would not have brought up this idea if I did not think you were that incapable. You are quite useful to me,” he said straightforwardly. Boy, did Zandik have a very odd way of cheering you up.

“I… well, okay then. And you know how to get the core out of it?”

“I’ve read multiple passages of these machines in textbooks. I assume I have enough knowledge to do so.”

“I’m not going to even say anything. You owe me a play date after all of this,” you pouted. Zandik rolled his eyes begrudgingly.

“I suppose I can engage in your nonsensical childish activities when all of this is over. But just for an hour,” he proclaimed. You gleefully smiled, pleased to have won him over.

You didn’t care much for the Archons or Gods but you suppose they must have been watching over you because you eventually managed to stun it. Keyword: eventually - after whole minutes of running around dodging missiles and picking up random stones along the way, while Zandik sat there waiting for the right moment. You swear he was laughing at you. And true to his word, the young boy dismantled the machine’s core, rendering it unable to operate.

“Wow… I can’t believe we actually did that,” you mentioned, still in awe of it all.

“Of course we did. I would expect or accept nothing less. Now, come here. We have work to do.”

Somehow he had brought along small tools to try and dissemble the Ruin Guard. The red-eyed boy’s intelligence had always amazed you. Although it may seem boring to others, watching him fiddle was quite interesting for you. Zandik had also apparently appointed you as his assistant without informing you until now, so you always sat next to him. You made sure to keep an eye on what he did, for sometimes he would put his hand out and expect you to pass him a tool or screw without saying anything. At the end of the day, at least you could say the two of you had feats that no other child could claim to have accomplished.

It had gotten to the point where Zandik constantly wanted your presence around him, claiming that it would do you well to join him since you had nothing better to do. (He just didn’t want to admit he craved your attention and company.) You had accepted this with no complaints, having enjoyed spending time with him far more than your other friends. But you couldn’t deny that your friends were somewhat right about their thoughts towards Zandik - he cared little for others’ lives or feelings, was interested in things others would find disturbing, and even as a child you could tell he was not too right in the head. And yet his morals being concerningly low despite still being a kid, you could not bring yourself to care much. Heh, perhaps he was starting to influence you too.

Many years had passed since the two of you were little kids. Zandik had grown into a handsome, young, man. His mother was no longer in the picture, but the two of you were still together despite it all. And as much as you wanted to end your story off with a cliche everything was well, nothing could be farther from the truth. The atmosphere of your hometown had begun to grow tense. Why, you ask? Because of Zandik. The villagers had always not been the kindest to him, never fond of his rather strange ideas, though Zandik usually brushed it off with disinterest. But as he grew older, it seemed that the town’s dislike for him grew as well. And while you were a bit worried for him, you weren’t too concerned. You were sure the two of you would leave the place one day anyway. No way in your wildest dreams did you think you’d look outside your window and see people waving around pitchforks and clubs. And if that wasn’t bewildering enough, they were pointed toward Zandik.

You never scrambled to your feet and out the door so fast in your life, rushing to your dear friend’s side. His expression was unreadable when he saw you.

“Hey. Hey! What is this all about, huh?” you demanded to the crowd.

“He has to go. He is no longer a child, and so we no longer have any reason to have to harbor him here. He is a threat to this town,” someone spat.

“He’s never even hurt you,” you argued. “He never laid a hand on any of you. It was rather you who did that!” You think you heard Zandik whisper your name quietly.

“He’s a heretic,” another voice hissed. “He and his ideas do not belong here.” The clattering of pitchforks pitched in to agree. Zandik remained silent.

You gritted your teeth. You could see there was no point in arguing anymore. “Fine. Fine then. We didn’t even like it here anyway,” you fumed. In your spur of anger, you clasped your friend’s hand and practically dragged him in the opposite direction, blocking out the boos and mockery from the rest of the town.

Surprisingly, Zandik did not say a word throughout your little journey to who knew where, until you had to take a break from the sheer exhaustion. Embarrassingly, you had to release his hand that you had kept hostage the whole time, but Zandik seemed far less perturbed than you. Perhaps he saw it coming, with how assured his next statement was. 

“We shall attend the Akademiya.” Out of all the possible things he could have said, you did not expect that one for some reason.

“The A-Akademiya?”

“Yes,” Zandik said quite simply.

 “I mean, it’s not a bad idea but… the people there might be…” You did not finish your sentence, but you were referring to how the place could have a good amount of judgmental “scholars.”

He laughed bitterly. “After this morning, I highly doubt anything they do shall ever bother me.” You did not know what words would console him, so the only thing you offered was an agreeing nod and your silent presence.

“They did not exile you, [Name],” he said all of a sudden.

“It doesn’t matter. Getting rid of you would be the same thing as getting rid of me. I wouldn’t stay in a place where you aren’t,” you shrugged simply, placing your pinky over his own.

Zandik did not respond, but he didn’t move away.

—

The Akademiya was… an experience, for sure. It was many things all at once, the different Darshans and the beautiful architecture, the great looming trees. And the dorms were far nicer than you expected. At least they were spending their funds decently enough. So, the two of you settled into the scholarly life relatively easily. Zandik easily climbed to the top of his classes in no time, quickly garnering the attention of others and then losing it equally as fast when they encountered his prickly personality. There were always gossip and rumors floating about, many of which proclaimed Zandik to be a madman and a monster. And while he rarely ever showed any expression to these words, besides perhaps a roll of the eyes and chuckle or a scoff, you wondered if it really did bother him. As such, everyday life for you was being known as the normal person who hung out with the weirdo.

But, the years spent in the institution were ones you cherished deeply. You were close with your friend for many years, but perhaps staying together in such close quarters deepened the relationship. The two of you would sneak out after hours to do whatever Zandik demanded to be done. You were a bit iffier about breaking rules, but Zandik was firm on not letting anyone hold him back in his pursuit, so you began to think less of it. Many nights would pass by with the two of you staying up until unreasonable hours, whether it was studying together (or more like Zandik helping you study), or listening to him ramble on about his latest ideas and inventions. The strangest times were when he made you stay up despite not speaking at all. You would blink through bleary eyes as he remained silent, the only noise the clinking of bolts and nuts. In your heart, you liked to think he just liked your presence.

But the day you found out Zandik was to be expelled from the Akademiya was one you’d never forget. You knew he had a tendency to act without permission, to turn off others with his radical ideas, so perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. You also had some knowledge of what happened in his expeditions with the team - almost everyone did, considering what happened with that girl - and you knew deep down what her true cause of death was. And Zandik knew that you knew too; you could feel it unspoken in his eyes when the subject matter was brought up briefly. You knew you were too far gone when you accepted it. But still, him being expelled was still a shocker. Yet the only thing he bemoaned was losing his space to work.

“It is quite literally your last night in this dorm and you’re sad about losing your progress on your experiments?” Actually, now that you thought about it, it was quite a Zandik thing to think.

“It was the only good thing about this place,” he shrugged. “It is too bad. I shall have to find somewhere else now.”

“They’re going to exile you to the desert, aren’t they?” you frowned. “That’s what they do with the expelled and mad scholars, no?” He nodded in agreement.

“You can’t go. You won’t be able to continue your kind of research there,” you argued.

“And what do you propose? That we fight them?”

“Yes! I’ll fight them! I’d ambush them or something!” you knew you sounded crazy by now but you couldn’t help it. The idea of no longer being with your childhood friend was tearing you in half. “You know, the matra stationed there keeps an eye on all of the scholars who were exiled there, in order to keep them in check. Even if you managed to escape, it won’t be easy to survive in such conditions and they could find you,” you insisted.

“Good thing you’re so eager to fight,” he chuckled. You knew what he was thinking when he laughed like that. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Did you really think I’d go in there without preparation?” he scoffed. “In due time, I shall find a way to contact you.”

You sighed. “Alright, just… let me know who I have to fight later,” you responded. “And…” you trailed off, not knowing if you should verbalize your true worried feelings. He seemed to notice, and he contemplated, trying to figure out what to say.

“You need not worry about me, [Name]. We both shall be fine.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as they were things he would never say. But he did anyway.

And that was the last you saw of Zandik. But unbeknownst to either of you, he would be visited by a special man - the first Harbinger. 

—

You stood outside on the small balcony, gazing down at Sumeru’s city. You had managed to nab one of the dorms with the platform, much to the dismay of the other scholars. The two of you always loved seeing them fume, as they had to take their star gazing elsewhere. Neither you nor Zandik had cared much for the stars, but admittedly it was just… nice to feel the wind blow. 

Sleep had escaped you ever since Zandik left. Not hearing the usual metal clink and unscrewing noises, soft grunts, and occasional chair shifting from Dottore had left you unsettled and bothered. You had begun to think about whether you should continue to stay in the Akademiya. Zandik was no longer here, and the place crawled with rumors and gossip regarding him. You weren’t so popular anymore either, as the whispers even extended to you, his roommate who people began to question if you were truly innocent.

You had been feeling a bit lost in general since Zandik had been expelled. You were fully aware of the heinous things he had committed. You had come to terms that he was a criminal, and you were accomplice of sorts as well. Actually, the moment you decided to associate yourself with him was the moment you became not so good of a person. But that wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was Zandik’s absence.

Any normal person would have called you absolutely crazy for desiring such a madman’s presence. And you couldn’t blame them. They were right. Yet your heart could not let go of the man who you stuck with since childhood. You could not let go of the boy who scowled and doubted your intentions at first, the boy who eventually warmed up to you, the boy who demanded you be his test subject and assistant at the same time, the man who tutored you in science and maths and everything else, the man who stayed up to ungodly hours to tinker.

The man who you fell in love with.

The revelation was enough to make your knees weak, and suddenly the cold air was too much for your warming body. Quickly, you locked the doors to the balcony and stumbled onto your bed, rubbing your temples at this acknowledgment. Archons, how stupid were you? You were in love with someone whose character was… words you could not describe. Though you knew it all along. You just were scared to admit it. You internally cursed Zandik for doing this to you, as you knew you were too late to say anything. Not that you’d have a chance though, considering his whole outlook. He’d think that love was for fools only, a waste of time when he could pursue more fruitful endeavors. So all of this only caused you to miss him so terribly much more.

You missed his eyes - such a unique red that could only be compared to the one that flowed through living beings. You missed his hair - the softness that you only felt once, when you gently caressed the locks when you thought he was sleeping, but he grabbed your wrist so quickly it nearly scared the living daylights out of you. You missed his sharp and smart tongue that could put someone into their place in a matter of seconds. You missed everything about him.

But you shouldn’t sulk. No - you would not brood. If he was here, he’d probably be reprimanding you for being distracted when there was so much left to do. Sooner or later, you knew in your heart you would see him again and-

Knock-knock.

You bolted up at the series of knocks. Were you hearing things? Surely no one would be at your door this hour of the night. Did Zandik make you delusional now?

Knock-knock-knock.

Nope, you still had some of your sanity left. You swung your feet off the bed, about to head towards the door when a rather strange shadow blurred across the floor. It looked oddly like… a figure… at your balcony… Your heart pounded as you convinced your head to look up.

Zandik was on your balcony. How he managed to get up so many stories of the building, you had no clue. No longer did he don the Akademiya’s uniform, but clothes that were rather nice and expensive looking. It seemed your stupor lasted longer than his liking as he tapped impatiently on the glass door and pointed towards the lock.

Well, it seemed your reunion with him was happening sooner rather than later, that’s for sure. Quickly you scrambled to open the door and pull your beloved inside.

“Z-Zandik,” you sputtered, not believing your eyes. “I- what- how are you here? Did anyone see you? You have to leave, they’re going to catch you!” You fumbled over your words, fighting with the happiness of seeing your friend again but also concerned about him being caught. “What happened with the plan? What happened in the desert? What are you wearing? How did you-?”

Zandik quickly shut you up by tapping his newly gloved finger on your lips. “You must not speak so loudly. But you are correct, we do not have much time.”

“You’re r-right,” you agreed, lowering your tone. “But I just need at least some kind of explanation. Why and how did you come back…?”

“The Fatui has recruited me.”

“The Fatui?” you echoed softly, trying to remember what that was. A few seconds of thinking and remembering the daunting masked men and women who carried around weapons caused you to snap back to life. “The Fatui?!” you whisper-yelled. “Those scary people who always eyed us up when went into the forest and stuff?! I- ah, I won’t even question it anymore. Just… go on.” Zandik smirked at your halting.

“They have provided me with sufficient equipment and a space to work. We no longer have any reason to stay at this ignorant institution,” he declared. “And, from now on, I am to be called Dottore, a new Harbinger.”

“Dottore?” you repeated. “How clever,” you snorted at the irony of the name. “And… what do you mean by ‘we’?” your voice got quieter towards the end.

“I mean what I said. You shan’t stay here any longer.”

You already knew you were following him, but your chest twinged due to your recently newfound feelings. What if you somehow turned out to be a nuisance for him? Eternally distracted by this foolish love? 

“Oh really? And what makes you think I’d follow you so easily?” You don’t think he was expecting you to say that. He cleared his throat.

“I’ve already made it clear to the Jester I shall not work without a competent assistant. There is only one person who has proven themselves to be capable. I will not settle for anyone else,” Zandik stated resolutely. “And,” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of how to voice what he wanted to say next. He had always been a man who would proclaim the most damning ideas with no remorse. Yet he had trouble formulating his thoughts because of you.

“You are… infuriating,” he began, making you raise your eyebrow. How charming of him. “Since that day in the forest, I knew you were going to be vexing. You would not bend to anything I said, would not leave me alone no matter the methods I used. Infuriating,” he repeated.

“But,” he very cautiously raised his hand to hover near your cheek, just barely making contact, “I never thought I’d become so… accustomed to you. I remember your habits and likes just as much as I remember those formulas you hated so. It’s laughable to think that almost all of my memories have you there somehow.”

“You are irking, but without your presence, I am strangely irritated myself, which is far more of a hindrance than I would have ever anticipated. Without you, I find my mind wandering - it is like nothing I have experienced before,” he finally cupped your cheek with hesitance, as if he himself was in disbelief at his own actions.

“I have known you almost all my life, yet I seem to still need more time to truly figure you out. I am not merely speaking as a scholar, but as… me,” he finished. Now, that was the last thing you expected from a man such as him. But he quickly regained his composure as he asked you the final question.

“Now,” he concluded. “What say you?” For all his talk of bravado and confidence, his hesitant show of affection revealed all the vulnerability that you desired to see and gave you the answer you needed. You placed your own hand over his one on your cheek, maintaining eye contact with him as he stiffened at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it was clothed. You moved closer to Zandik, until your chests were nearly touching. 

Zandik knew what you were going to do. Although the thought of such affection usually made him… ill and annoyed, he could not help but think that the feeling would be different if you were the one initiating. How would his body react? Would he enjoy it? Would he want to do it again?

You moved closer to his face, and without hesitation, you kissed him. Zandik was rigid, the foreign sensation of another’s lips against him was completely unfamiliar to him. But it seemed that the answer to his questions was a resounding ‘yes.’ You pulled away from him, trying to gauge his expression. You did not know too much about kissing, but you knew your newly found lover understood even less, which spurred you to continue. 

Running your hands down his firm arms, you leaned in again to nip and suck at his neck, drawing out a shudder from Zandik. He felt intoxicated by you all at once. He would be sure to write some notes on this later… they would be needed for further… research and experimental trials. He nuzzled his face into your soft locks, silently encouraging you to continue your course of action, eager to indulge in it with as much excitement as he would indulge in forbidden knowledge.

But then you released him with a pop of your lips. “Well, let’s not get too carried away,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want your new subordinates seeing you like this, hmm?” you straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles you created on his clothes. To say he felt bewildered and betrayed was an understatement.

“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for you,” you changed your tone to a soft, honest one, “Wherever you go, I shall go too. I decided that a long time ago, Zandik.” There was no need for either of you to say the three words that many others longed for. You knew that the relationship you now had with him was far stronger than a few mere words could describe.

Zandik quickly regained his composure. He would be sure to pay you back for your little stunt later. “Well then, there is much to be done. We have not a moment to waste,” he grinned, halfway out onto the balcony. “Take my hand, and we will be off,” he extended his arm, his gloved hand awaiting your own.

Taking his hand meant abandoning this current life. It meant embracing a new life that was far from morally right, one that should surely lead you to be despised by many. It meant becoming a part of the Fatui for Archon’s sake, an organization that was far from reputable. Zandik and [Name] would become lost to the world, the names only being remembered by the two of you in loving, soft-spoken whispers. Others would only know Dottore and his loyal assistant. If you took his hand, there was no going back… 

And yet with no hesitation, you placed your hand in his. 

[amalythea]

「 but does he really know me when the lights are on? 」

⤷ info: diluc & childe x gn!reader (separate) || angsty fic hehe || wc: 544 & 461 respectively

⤷ warnings: diluc n childe are a tad bit neglectful of their lovers bc theyre busy, mentions of childe's real name (does this even count as a warning), i tried to make this extra angsty as a treat for you guys <3

⤷ extra: i used the prompt i. “but does he really know me when the lights are on?” from @thexianzhoujade 's personal memoires (of the dearly beloved) event!! thank you so much to @mei-sm for proofreading!!

diluc.

As the owner of the renowned Dawn Winery, your lover's days were consumed by the meticulous tasks of wine-making and managing the estate. Diluc was a man of dedication, his every waking moment dedicated to upholding his family's legacy.

But amidst the clinking of glasses and the rustle of grapevines, there existed a longing within Diluc—a longing for companionship, for someone to share his burdens and his joys. It was in the quiet moments of the night, as he gazed out over the vineyards, that this longing weighed heaviest upon him.

Then, amidst the chaos of his busy life, you came into his world like a breath of fresh air. You who seemed to understand Diluc in a way no one else could. Your encounters were fleeting yet profound, each stolen moment leaving Diluc yearning for more.

Despite his limited time, Diluc cherished every second he spent with you. He memorized the curve of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. In his mind, he constructed an image of you—a flawless portrait of a person he believed he knew inside and out.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Diluc's time grew ever scarcer. His duties at the winery demanded more of him, leaving little room for anything else. Yet, in the rare moments you shared, Diluc clung to the illusion of intimacy he had built in his mind.

One evening, as you sat together beneath the stars, your voice broke the silence. "Diluc," you said softly, your gaze searching his face, "do you truly believe you know me?"

Caught off guard by your question, Diluc faltered. "Of course, I do," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I know you better than anyone."

But your eyes held a sadness he had not seen before. "But do you?" you murmured, your words hanging heavy in the air. "Do you know the dreams I keep hidden in the depths of my heart? Do you know the fears that haunt me in the darkness of night?"

Diluc felt a pang of guilt deep within him. Despite his love for you, he realized that his knowledge of you was only surface-deep. He knew your smile, your laughter, your outward demeanor—but the depths of your soul remained a mystery to him.

In that moment, the realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Despite his best intentions, despite his unwavering devotion, he had failed to truly know the one he loved. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth reflected back at him—the heartbreaking realization that your connection was built on a foundation of illusion.

Tears welled in your eyes as you rose to your feet, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things were different, Diluc," you whispered, your words heavy with sorrow. "But I fear that we are destined to remain strangers, even as lovers."

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Diluc alone beneath the stars, his heart heavy with regret. For in that moment, he knew that despite his best efforts, he had let the one he loved slip through his fingers, never truly knowing you as he had believed.

childe.

In the heart of Liyue Harbor, beneath the grandeur of the illuminated archways and amidst the bustling streets, Childe found himself entangled in the mess of his own making. The weight of his duties pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, consuming his days and nights in a relentless pursuit of power and influence. Amidst the political machinations and secret dealings, there was but one respite for him – the presence of his lover.

Your relationship was an affair hidden behind veils of secrecy and deception. Childe reveled in the moments stolen away from the prying eyes of the world, where he could lose himself in the warmth of your embrace. Yet, even in your most intimate moments, there lingered an unspoken question, a whisper of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Despite his professed affection, Childe remained a stranger in many ways, his mind consumed by the ceaseless demands of his position within the Fatui. He spoke in riddles, his words veiled in ambiguity, leaving you to decipher the depths of his intentions.

As the nights grew longer and the shadows darker, you found peace in the silence between you, a quiet refuge from the chaos of your intertwined lives. But beneath the facade of understanding, doubts festered, like seeds sown in barren soil, their roots entwined with the fragile threads of your bond.

One night, as the city slept beneath a blanket of stars, your doubts could no longer be silenced. With tears glistening in your eyes, you uttered the words that had long lingered unspoken between the two of you.

"Do you truly know me, Ajax?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath upon the wind. "Or do you see only the shadows of who I am, cast by the light of your own desires?"

For a moment, Childe was speechless, the weight of your words bearing down upon him like a crushing weight. In the silence that followed, he searched your eyes for answers, but found only the reflection of his own uncertainty staring back at him.

"I... I thought I knew you," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But perhaps... perhaps I was mistaken."

With those words, the fragile bonds that held you together shattered like glass, leaving nothing but shards of regret in their wake. In the cold light of dawn, you turned away, leaving Childe to face the emptiness of his own solitude.

Alone amidst the ruins of your shattered love, Childe found himself haunted by the echoes of your parting words. In the depths of his heart, he knew that he had lost more than just a lover – he had lost a piece of himself, forever hidden in the shadows of what might have been.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5925

Jalsa, Mumbai May 8/9, 2024 Wed/Thu 9:10 AM

🪔 ,

Belated birthday greetings to Ef Sunanda Yadav from Kolkata .. for May 08 .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

Change .. the inevitable feature in the life of the Universe and for us that inhabit it .. it has remained a mystery, despite the thousands of intellectual minds and researchers in the fields of science and more in philosophy - darshan shaastra .. दर्शन शास्त्र ..

"दर्शनशास्त्र (Darśanaśāstra) वह ज्ञान है जो परम् सत्य और सिद्धान्तों, और उनके कारणों की विवेचना करता है। दर्शन यथार्थ की परख के लिये एक दृष्टिकोण है। दार्शनिक चिन्तन मूलतः जीवन की अर्थवत्ता की खोज का पर्याय है। वस्तुतः दर्शनशास्त्र स्वत्व, तथा समाज और मानव चिंतन तथा संज्ञान की प्रक्रिया के सामान्य नियमों का विज्ञान है।"

to gain knowledge of the permanent truth, principles of life .. to get a view of the reasons and meanings of so much that is unknown .. the search .. the construct of the way social norms be conducted , the routines and rules of it all .. and more ..

Still a territory that never stops evolving, yet unable to resolve ..

"Darshan Shastra, a profound philosophy, delves into the nature of truth and falsehood. Rooted in ancient Indian wisdom, it scrutinizes the complexities of deception, perception, and reality. Darshan Shastra underscores the interplay between subjective perception and objective truth, exploring the dynamics of dharma (duty) and adharma (immorality). It illuminates the ethical implications of falsehood, advocating for integrity and transparency in thought and action. Through intricate analyses of human cognition and societal norms, it offers insights into the consequences of deceit and the pursuit of truth. Darshan Shastra serves as a guiding beacon, inspiring seekers to navigate the labyrinth of lies towards enlightenment."

And during its intriguing features that we encounter each moment, the debate and argument continue .. some convincing, some evasive, some just glanced by and driven away ..

The boiling point that is now bubbling with the heat of 'change' is the nature of change in each generation .. the past gone, the present, and the future to be .. and its reflections on the conduct of our living .. our existence, our conduct towards 'all things bright and beautiful' ..

For the professionals like us to adapt or to ignore .. what to make what to access what to exhibit , what to give for maximum benefit and gain and deliverance in its quotient of the investment and return, to put it crudely ..

And there are no firm responses ..

Flow with the tide .. or create your own waves for the tides to follow ..

That phase of creation at this stage has long passed for me .. better to flow .. be a part of .. not too dependent on result, but dependent on the involvement of the flow - whichever direction it takes ..

At least you become a part of it .. time, energy, to be procured for created creation, takes an eternity, at this stage .. limitations of life years , the brilliance of youthful exuberance, the screams of vivacity and enthusiasm - all forgone now , and no time to reinvent it - so -

FLOW ..

I flow , you flow , we all flow for flow !!

😀

😀

🤣

With my love for all the Ef .. ❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[rebeltarot]

FORECAST ➕ What blessings are coming toward you?

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

[3 piles] ・ [4 decks] ・ [5 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, messages, songs]

Hello love, and welcome to my pick-a-card reading. you can find instructions and my disclaimer below. please read these before choosing your pile. 

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

Painting: Leda and the Swan - François Boucher

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

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© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 01 ➕

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

R, E, S, S, 33, Virgo, 5th House, Sun, Taurus, Love Affair, Narrow Eyes, Thin Nose, December, Empowerment, I'm intimidated by you, Dance with me - make me sway, A present, I like naps and you, Live every day with intention

Song: Like Me - Chase Icon

WHAT BLESSINGS ARE COMING TOWARD YOU

Tarot: Page of Wands, The Emperor

Oracle: The Hound, South Node, Self-Worth

Hello, and welcome to your reading Pile 01. Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. Your blessing relates to a passion that you have—something that inspires you and that you are curious about. This certain area of your life or topic that you are so interested in might feel like it holds limitless potential. It's like the sky is the limit. This passion relates to something where you consider yourself a novice, someone who is still discovering, learning, and maturing. Your blessing is your graduation in this area. You will grow from the Page of Wands, who carries a fierce love and passion, to the emperor, who is successful, steadfast, and confident in his knowledge. The banana on the page card stood out to me. Bananas are associated with fertility, prosperity, spiritual growth, and good luck! Your passions and interests play a bigger role in your life, and your blessing is heavily linked to that. It might even go as far as to relate to something that you have loved and enjoyed ever since you were a kid. For some of you, this could mean that you will turn your passions into a business or career; for others, this could be about your quality of life and confidence in general, though that seems to be a smaller group. The Hound relates to the keyword "pursuit," which immediately made me think of the song "Pursuit of Happiness" by Kid Cudi, especially the line: "I'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know, everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold." I do feel like you might have been distracted by careers and interests that were considered valuable and honorable in our society, but your blessing is going back to the roots and your authentic passions and interests. You are focusing on the present while utilizing your past, especially the knowledge that you attained when you were still young or even in a past life. Your blessing is that your talents and skills will build your future and, for most of you, your career. You are and will be intensely pursuing an idea or passion that will help you achieve your goals and attain abundance, whatever that means to you. You have previously chosen the path of least resistance, but you are now learning that if there are no hills and valleys, you should be wary of your direction. As mentioned before, your past plays a big role, especially in the passions you have had ever since you were a kid. The number 33 could be of significance to you. This passion that I keep on referring to is something that has never left you, something that has always been on your mind—similar to unfinished business. And you are unable to ignore it now. You have been toying with this idea before, and now you are pursuing it in full force—your passions, your happiness. There could have been people in your life who doubted you and the potential you see in your pursuit; however, the self-worth card is reminding you that you can see more than others can. You can recognize the potential, and in turn, people, events, and material objects are drawn to you. By aiming higher, you are attracting even greater experiences in your life. Your energy will grow, and remember that receiving is action. Stay loyal and true to your curiosity, and you will be greatly rewarded. Journal prompt: How do I relate to the word "deserving"?

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 02 ➕

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

O, P, E, N, C, Scorpio, Mars, 6th House, Leo, Green Eyes, Sincere, Crush, Responsible, Unwanted Change, I want to marry those eyes, I keep falling for the bad ones, You are my true love - my one and only, You are not shrewd enough, Be true to who you are, When you love what you have you have everything you need

Song: Jungle - DillanPonders ft. Ruby Waters

WHAT BLESSINGS ARE COMING TOWARD YOU

Tarot: Page of Pentacles, 7 of Cups

Oracle: The Three-Toed Sloth, Midheaven, Gratitude

Hello, and welcome to your reading Pile 02. Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. Your blessing relates to choice, especially in your career life. You are quite an ambitious person, someone who is industrious and goal-oriented. You seem to be new in your career. This might relate to the industry you're in or the job you're doing. Either way, your work ethic, and your diligence have led you to attract options in your life. These options represent different great opportunities that are opening up for you. However, you might be still searching for your purpose. These choices that are presented to you are urging you to realize what it is that you want. They are guiding you to search for your purpose. I feel like thus far you have been quite consistent with what you are doing and with the industry you are in. However, you might be stuck in a rut. "I just want to be alone and quiet in a room with a chair, a fireplace, and a tea cozy. I don't even know what a tea cozy is, but I want one." This is a quote from Buffy (TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer). There is this urge within you to take a break and go for the unknown. You have this inner calling for something that you do not understand yet. A vacation could bring you the clarity that you need. Stepping away from your usual stressors and your daily rut will bring you a much-needed break that will eventually lead to a breakthrough. You will be inspired to break the mold and to look for an abundant source of life and energy that refills you daily. During this much-needed break, you will get the opportunity to reflect on your professional reputation and what it truly means to you to be successful. You will take responsibility for your authority, replacing learned definitions of concepts such as success with your understanding of them—a definition that fulfills you, inspires you, and makes you happy. I feel like you will reawaken an ambition that might not make sense to others but fulfills you deeply. Whatever hidden dream you've been carrying with you will come to the forefront, and it will guide you towards your potential. Your blessing is that you will be recognized and appreciated for your genuine self and dreams, as well as your authentic achievements. You will be living out your potential and experiencing deep love and gratitude. Journal Prompt: What does success mean to me? Who is the person I admire most, and why?

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 03 ➕

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

I, I, E, E, A, Libra, 7th House, Sun, Throat Chakra, Heart Chakra, Equal relationship, Hurt people hurt people, I'm becoming the best version of myself, Now that you have me do you want me still, I can't really explain it - I'm so into you, Guests coming - Means trouble, Your next love affair will surprise you, Do not wait too long before saying "Yes", So much fun

Song: More - K/DA

WHAT BLESSINGS ARE COMING TOWARD YOU

Tarot: 10 of Swords, Page of Pentacles

Oracle: The Toad, Moon, Forgiveness

Hello, and welcome to your reading Pile 03. Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. This is such a beautiful pile, wow. The 10 of Swords talks about painful endings, betrayal, and deep wounds, but it also signifies the ending of a cycle. Whatever is represented by the 10 of swords, it cut you deep, and it might have felt like you were drowning in your pain. With the page of pentacles following the 10 of swords, I can see that your blessing is you becoming and growing into a new and pure person. Someone loyal to their principles and values. Someone who, despite their pain, does not harbor resentment or hurt but instead focuses on their intentions. You are diligently working on yourself and your healing journey. Pentacle energy relates to foundational matters and earthly manifestations. It's where your subconscious meets your ego. Obviously, this is and will be quite new to you, as we have an ending here and a new beginning represented by the page, but you will be able to achieve your goals and stay loyal to yourself. This positivity will attract new and pure connections in your life. "If more of us valued food, cheer, and song above hoarding gold, it would be a merrier world." A quote from the book "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien. I feel like your previous ways of dealing with this wound focused on the future and the next best thing. Arriving and living in the present moment could have felt unsafe to you. There is or was a lack-mindset here that had you focused on what you were missing, leading you to hold onto things that weren't good for you or that weren't serving a purpose in your life. This does not have to relate to material things; it could talk about careers, connections, pursuits, etc. Your blessing is that you will learn to observe things clearly as they are. You will reconnect to your subconscious and work with the ebbs and flows of your emotions, honoring your current phases and working within those cycles. You will look to your feelings and intuition rather than your logic. The way you see and perceive the world will drastically change, and in turn, it will release and free you from the shackles of your past hurt and pain. By not harboring resentment and focusing on your intentions, you will reconnect with your sense of self. Your blessing is healing. It is self-forgiveness and a sense of belonging. You will be fulfilled, and you will realize that holding onto and following a dream only satisfies you if you focus on the present and gratefully work with what you have. Journal Prompt: Can I forgive myself for loving people who hurt me?

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

[sweethoneyrose83]

Dark academy Dialogue Prompts

“Books are the only sanctuary left in this crumbling world.”

“There’s something beautifully tragic about knowing that we’re merely fleeting moments in history.”

“Do you ever wonder if the poets we revere died knowing they would never be understood?”

“Knowledge is both my salvation and my undoing. I fear I’ve crossed the line into madness.”

“What use is greatness if it comes at the cost of one's soul?”

“We study the dead, but have you ever wondered if they study us in return?”

“I don't fear death, I fear a life wasted without ever truly learning.”

“There is a certain romance in tragedy, don’t you think? In the knowledge that all things must end.”

“To be forgotten is the greatest tragedy of all, far worse than death.”

“There’s a peculiar thrill in defying the gods, in chasing knowledge they said we shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not the darkness that frightens me. It’s what I might find when the light returns.”

“The ivy that climbs these walls has seen more than we ever will. And yet, it remains silent.”

“Cemeteries are the true libraries of the world, and every grave a story.”

“We are merely echoes of those who came before us, destined to repeat the same mistakes.”

“What is it that draws us to the ancient and the decayed? Perhaps because we are both.”

"Do you ever wonder if we're merely characters in someone else's tragedy?"

"We are not made to live in the light. The shadows suit us far better."

"Books are the only sanctuary left. The rest of the world has become far too loud."

"If knowledge is power, then I fear what would happen should we uncover the truth."

"You talk of morality as if it's more than just a game we play in the dark."

"The walls of this library have seen more than any of us. They know secrets we'll never comprehend."

"I don’t fear death. I fear the endless boredom of living without purpose."

"Why chase the fleeting when eternity is so close at hand?"

"Do you think the ancient scholars were ever this lost in their pursuit of wisdom?"

"No amount of candlelight can chase away the darkness that lurks in our souls."

"We've studied history, philosophy, and art, yet the only lesson that remains is how little we truly understand."

"The stars you admire now are long dead, much like the ideals you cling to."

"What good is love when it’s always doomed to be nothing more than an elegy?"

"Perhaps the greatest tragedy is not being forgotten, but being remembered for all the wrong reasons."

"Some mysteries are not meant to be solved. They exist to remind us of our limitations."

"In the end, all we leave behind are ink stains and faded memories."

"It’s ironic, isn’t it? The pursuit of knowledge has only made us more uncertain."

"There is a certain beauty in destruction, a kind of poetry in watching things fall apart."

"We are scholars, not saints. To expect us to be anything else is to misunderstand the nature of our obsession."

"Is it madness to dream of a different world, or madness to think we could ever escape this one?"

[venerawrites]

THANK YOU wonderful lovely person for writing for this fandom 😍 so glad you're here!💐

if you feel inspired, may I request some hurt/comfort Sasuke goodness? can be modern au depression or dealing w the aftermath of the truth behind the Uchiha massacre...are there any ways to help him out of a bereft slump or have faith in the future again?

also, your theme and artwork choices are simply gorgeous 🙌🏻 and the delicious angst 🤤

author's note: thank you so much for your beautiful words! I have been waiting to be in the right mood for this one, so I am really sorry you had to wait this long... I really hope you like it, because I always feel like comfort is the hardest for me to write. Thank you for requesting and for the idea! <3

Some people leave your life just as unexpectedly as they show up. They offer nothing but distant memories of shared late evenings and cold tea, which soon make you question your sanity and if they were ever real at all.

Such person was Sasuke Uchiha.

You met him years ago, while he was working for a shady man called Orochimaru and was in pursuit of revenge against his brother. He was not like any boy you've met before: arrogant, proud, constantly tense, and untrusting. Rarely talked about himself, and much preferred to sit in silence, dwelling on his own thoughts, than to voice his feelings and opinions out loud. He always seemed in a hurry, constantly telling you he could stay no longer than an hour before he had to leave again.

To this day you never learned the true intentions behind his visits. The first time it was a simple call for help - sitting on a lone hill between the borders of the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers, he easily mistaken your cottage for an abandoned house where he could seek refuge after being badly wounded.

A terrifying surprise was written on both of your faces once you came back home later that afternoon only to find the black-haired ninja bleeding heavily on your bed. You were no medic, but you used your limited knowledge of herbal medicine to help his recovery as much as you could. In return, he spared your life.

He visited irregularly, but often after this. Sometimes he showed up three times per week, and sometimes months passed before you heard from him again. Sasuke never offered any explanation about where he was or what he was doing, instead often justifying his random appearances as his need for alternative treatment for his scars and wound.

The first few times it made you raise your brows in question - you were not an expert healer, all you knew being tales passed down from your grandmother about the properties of a handful of plants. Yet, you never spilled your suspicion out loud to him, instead quietly finding comfort in his presence.

It was strange how well you got along, your shared love for silence and solitude somehow bringing you together. Most of the time you just sat there, next to each other, quietly sipping your tea and staring at the sky.

Sometimes you caught him glancing at you or curiously inspecting all the pictures and books you had on the shelves around your living room, his lips pressed into a thin line of concentration, while he tried to put the pieces of your life story together in his mind. He never asked you for more other than your name and your age. You never offered anything more either.

It took a few months after his last visit for you to realize he wasn't coming back and that in the end, he was no more than a stranger to you - you didn't know anything about him other than his name, his birth village, and the fact that he wanted to kill his brother. His motives were never revealed, and his ambitions for the future - never shared.

Despite this, it always felt like he was some form of friend to you. There was a silent understanding that both of you carried too much weight on your shoulders and you did not wish to revisit a painful past by re-telling it, instead finding peace in watching the beauty of the stars up the sky or the birds, who migrated to their new home in the late summer afternoons.

Years have passed since then. What you cherished as meaningful moments soon turned into dusty memories, that never reminded you of him outside your dreams. Life continued, despite time staying still - time always felt frozen when you lived a life by yourself, away from all humanity.

So when you found him one day, glaring at you with red eyes, you were both dumbfounded and terrified. He looked at you in a way that screamed hatred, rage, sadness, and pain. For a second you wondered if they were directed at you.

"I didn't know where else to go."

His voice was the total opposite of how he looked - it was small and weak, almost on the verge of breaking.

You quickly stepped aside, an unspoken invitation for him to come into your home. His feet hurried past you and you closed the door after him, immediately walking toward the kitchen to prepare jasmine tea. His favourite. Sasuke didn't like tea, but there was something about the way you prepared it that always eased both his muscles and his nerves.

After a while you came back, holding two white mugs in your hands, only to find him with his head buried in his hands and his knee shaking violently. You quickly sat next to him, before placing the drinks on the table and turning toward him, instinctively placing your hand on his back, rubbing small circles.

"I did it", he said with a hoarse voice, his head still hanging low, his black locks covering his face from you. There was no need for him to say anything else - these three words were enough for you to understand that he has finally achieved his goal. The result, however, seemed not to be what he hoped for.

"I am sorry."

Sasuke finally raised his head, looking at you with narrowed eyes. You could see the trail of dry tears covering his cheeks and you easily assumed he must have cried while you were in the kitchen. His lips were twisted in a scowl and he let out an angry breath through his nose.

"I don't need your pity!"

Despite the aggression in his tone, his eyes started to tear up again and he squeezed his eyelids shut in a poor attempt to stop them from falling.

"I have finally learned the truth", he hissed through gritted teeth, "I finally learned why my brother really did it."

The mention of the word "brother" seemed to trigger something in him and the tears started flowing freely from his eyes, while his lips started to mumble incoherent sentences about the Uchiha Massacre, Konoha, and the orders the elders gave to his brother. It was a mess - he kept referring back to his talks with a man named "Madara" while jumping back and forth between the memories of that bloody night and his plans for destroying the Leaf. It took you a while to piece the chronology together, while the feelings he kept bottling for years just kept erupting, reducing what you once knew as a stoic and controlled man, into a sobbing, raging mess on the floor.

It took around an hour for him to finish his story and for you to quietly absorb every detail, while he poured his heart out to you. The hand that was first rubbing soothing patterns on his back, was laying flat in his palm, while his fingers squeezed it for dear life. It almost looked like he was afraid that you were nothing more than a fruit of his imagination and if he let go, you would disappear into thin air and leave him by himself.

"I will destroy them!", the vow was made once there were no more tears left for him to cry, "They will all pay for what they did to my clan! To Itachi! To ME!

Taking a sip of your tea, you hummed under your breath, before turning towards him. For the whole time he was here, you didn't comment on anything he told you, but you also didn't have the chance to do so, as Sasuke left no time between his voiced thoughts for you to mutter even a word.

"And then what?", the question surprised him and he turned to you with confused expression.

"What do you mean "then what?"

Pulling your hand away, you tilted your head to the side.

"You are going to destroy your village, sacrificing the innocent lives of many, including your old friends, teammates, and teachers", you thought out loud, moving your eyes toward the old map of the world that hung framed on the wall opposite you, "And then what? The Leaf's allies would without question turn against you, and then you are going to have to destroy them too. A bloody path, that would eventually end either in your early death or in pushing someone else to take your path and seek revenge on you."

The more you talked, the lower his brows were furrowing to the point he was staring at you under the dark shade of his frowning face. His face was almost distorted - switching from extreme emotions of sadness and grief to anger and aggression, his whole expression was now twisted in an almost inhuman grimace, a mixture of all.

"None of them are innocent", he huffed, his jaw working, "They were all enjoying a carefree life, because of the sacrifice of my brother... and even then, they still called him a traitor."

There were no words of rebuttal you could offer. You didn't know his life in the village, nor how the people there behaved. Perhaps, the people living there were monsters, who lacked both heart and soul. But weren't they like that everywhere? You may have lived alone and detached from society, but you had enough contact with traveling ninjas - both rogue and village warriors - to know that they were all often fighting for the same cause, it was just their ideas of how it could be achieved that differed.

"And is that something that he would wanted?"

The man lifted his knee and rested his arm on top of it. He seemed to contemplate your question, the muscles on his face twitching every few seconds.

"No", the truth came out as a disappointed sigh. His fingers clenched and you could hear his teeth gritting, before he looked at you with cold eyes.

"But I am not him! I won't repeat the same mistakes!"

Holding his gaze felt almost like staring into the eye of a brewing storm. The determination that he radiated hinted that this is was just the beginning - he still had more hate and more anger to give to the world.

"Yet you seem to repeat your own mistakes over and over", the challenge was bold and even he seemed taken aback. Sasuke rarely got people opposing him - other than Naruto, who always had to have a contrasting opinion - but usually his ideas were met either with encouragement or with silence. His own team was either too scared or too busy with their own worries to question him and his motives, often just nodding their heads at whatever he said.

A dry chuckle left his lips before he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Every time he came he was met with the comfort of silence, your bond built entirely on the feeling of the safety he felt every time he visited. Now he wondered if that bond was even real - never had he expected that you would actually talk so much, let alone NOT support him.

He imagined that he would just come here, you would make him his favourite tea... and he didn't know what he was thinking when he came here. He didn't plan to tell you any of the truth he learned about his clan's death and Itachi, yet the sentences just kept spilling out of his body, almost like he had no control over it.

"What do you know?", he scoffed, giving you a mocking look, "You live here alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere."

Sasuke suddenly leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"What exactly do you know about the world or even about living? The gravest mistake you probably made was to put too much water in your stupid tea. You know nothing about pain or the real world out there! You know nothing about having everything taken away from you!"

Your expression hardened. You held his furious stare, bravely accepting his poisonous words, which cut deeper and deeper into your soul. Once he finished talking, his breath was rigid once again.

"You will be no different than them", you stated blankly and the man grumbled in response, "The people who pushed your brother to commit these crimes. And I know deep down, you realise that too... Because somewhere out there there is a little kid, who just like you will one day waste his whole life chasing you, dreaming of punishing you, till they become just like you. And the cycle will continue."

His eyes were now back to his original onyx colour, yet the burning sensation they brought to your insides was just the same.

"I didn't come here for you to offer me lessons of morality."

"Why did you come then?"

No answer.

"I offer you nothing, but my honesty", you continued, standing up from your seat, "If you are here to seek support and encouragement for your plans of destroying the lives of thousands of innocent people, you are in the wrong place."

It was definitely a mistake visiting you. He should've known better. Why you, of all people, would understand him?

Grabbing his stuff, he followed your figure into the kitchen. You seemed unbothered by his looming presence behind you, instead focusing on washing the two empty cups. Once you were done, you just rested your hands on the counter, facing the big kitchen window that overlooked the forest. If it wasn't for the faint breathing sound, you would have thought he had left.

"There is light inside you, Sasuke", you finally said, "And no matter how hard you try to fight it, it is there. Don't try to kill it! Use it and spread it in order to bring the change you want to see."

"You don't know me!"

"Maybe not as much as I would like", you shrugged your shoulders, your eyes still gazing at the trees whose branches danced elegantly under the wind, "But I know if you were really that heartless, as you like me to think, you would've drawn that katana you rest your hand on a long time ago."

Sasuke moved his fingers away as if the handle of his weapon suddenly burned his skin and his head dropped low. How did you know, when your back was facing him the whole time?

Before he could raise his question, you started walking toward the door, waving your hand after you.

"Come!"

Not leaving any time for an answer, your form was already outside by the time he could register your simple command and follow it. He was not one to do what others told him to, but his body seemed to act on its own, his steps echoing after yours before his mind could protest.

The man found you sitting on your front steps, a place where you and he have shared countless late nights, just gazing at the sky above you. Like a habit, he sat next to you, easing into the comfort of your old routine without further questioning.

"This area was a village back when my parents were children. It was a small one - only a handful of farmers and herb gatherers", Sasuke looked at you in surprise, before scanning the area. He had never paid attention to the surroundings of your home, noting only the existence of a forest on the right and a large meadow on the left. Now, on a closer inspection, he could see the remaining stones and paths, which were half-covered by moss and too strategically placed around to be just random rocks.

There were remaining memories of buildings now long gone.

"My grandmother always said that our ancestors were tasked with the responsibility to restore what the Great Nations destroyed", you continued, bringing his attention back to you, "Where the ninja waged war, we followed to take care of the land and bring it back to life. Where the villagers left burned forests after they sought new places to build, we moved to these places to protect the balance between the human world and the natural one."

Sasuke listened patiently, his brows furrowed in confusion. Where were you getting with this story? And more importantly, where were all these people you talked about?

Almost like you've read his mind, your head turned toward him with a small sad smile on your lips.

"Our communities have been destroyed dozens of times and they rebuilt themselves just as many. This village was destroyed before I was even born by a conflict between the Land of Wind and the Land of River, one which had nothing to do with the hard-working people who were guilty only of trying to take care of the forest and wildlife", you looked towards your crossed fingers in your lap, suddenly overwhelmed of the sad destiny your family must have suffered.

"There is no greater sin than the arrogance of a man blinded by revenge. Shinobi keep waging wars with each other, each drop of blood they spill being with price of at least one innocent life. And they keep destroying, blinded by their hate, claiming that they only want to "save the world"", suddenly grabbing his arm, you pointed at the trees with your other hand, before dragging it across the air to the meadow, "But look!"

The onyx eyes followed the movement of your finger, before they rested on your face unimpressed.

"Look at what? Trees and grass?"

You huffed at his words, rolling your eyes.

"You are blind, Sasuke!", your forefinger poked his temple a few times and you could feel him stiffen under your touch, "You watch, but you don't see! It is not just trees and grass!"

When he offered no other reply than a small curling of his lips downwards, you gently grabbed his chin and forcefully turned it ahead again.

"It is life! A life born out of destruction, out of pain", your hand gestured around you once again, "The truth is the world doesn't need saving! It has existed for many, many years before us and will exist for many, many years after us. It is us, humans, that need saving... and not by more blood spilling or fear, or hate, or whatever other false values they try to teach you in your ninja academies."

His muscles finally started to relax under your touch, while he kept staring ahead, finally understanding the meaning of the words that you were saying. The slow realization that destroying Konoha is not the medicine for his bleeding soul was slowly creeping into his mind, suddenly making him confused and unsure.

"What if we can't be saved?", the heavy doubts that kept holding him down finally came to the surface, "What if we just... keep destroying?"

You looked at him in silence, before finally letting go of his arm. The sudden removal of warmth made him involuntarily shiver.

"We will keep destroying", you finally answered, pressing your tongue inside your cheek in thought, "I guess it is in our nature! But we will also rebuild. And we will learn from our past mistakes, making sure that we will not repeat them again."

Signing, you turned toward him, before reaching out for his hand again. All his life, Sasuke always thought he hated physical touch, but now it felt right. It felt like it was a silent promise that everything will somehow be alright.

"Do not go down the same path of hatred, Sasuke. Your destination will keep being the same, no matter how hard you try to avoid it", the corners of your lips curved slightly upwards, "Your pursuit for a better world is noble, but you can't do it alone! The same way this forest and meadow did not just pop in one day by themselves - it took years for them to grow, helped by bees, the birds, and even the wind and the rain... They all did their own part. The same way you need to do yours, alongside your friends."

The silence that followed was long, yet comfortable. His fingers wrapped around your palm, keeping your hand in his, while his mind considered the truth you just spoke. There was a part inside of him - the one that was still hurt and crying - that wanted to convince him that it was all just an empty talk. That he should not give up what he already started.

Another part, however, what seemed to be a louder one and for some reason sounded a lot like his brother's voice in his head, was agreeing with you, shifting the perspective he was looking from.

A long time passed till he spoke again.

"Promise me", there was no trace of anger on his face anymore, just tiredness, "That you will always be clear and honest with me."

You couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips.

"I promise."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years have passed since the end of the war and Sasuke was once again on the road, this time accompanied by Sakura. Their final destination was unclear, but the first stop was already set in his mind - the cottage sitting on a hill between the borders of the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers. He has not seen you since that night you opened his eyes to what is really important, but the thought of you never left his mind.

The woman next to him, who still had an unclear status between a teammate and friend, kept trying to make him share where were they going, but was often met either with just silence or with the simple explanation of "someone important". The description make her a bit uneasy, wondering who could have such an impact on Sasuke to want to check on them first thing after he was allowed to leave, but she did not question further, still unsure of how far the man's boundaries lie.

Once they got to the hill, however, her uneasiness grew.

"Sasuke, there is nothing here", she said, looking around the vast field that bordered a forest nearby, "Are you sure that person lived here? Maybe they moved?"

The man did not reply, his body being frozen in place. You were gone, the house was gone, it was just wild nature. He suddenly tensed, once he felt Sakura's hand laying flat between his shoulder blades and running small circles on top of the clothed skin.

Just like you did that night.

Sasuke made a few steps further, before kneeling and touching the ground. While looking the same as the rest at first glance, the grass covering the area where he vividly remembered your house being seemed different... almost greener, yet smaller.

A small parchment of paper poked out of the dirt next to his fingers and he carefully lifted it, revealing a burnt part of the world map that hung on your wall once. The majority of it was gone, but he could clearly make out the names of the Land of Wind, The Land of Rivers, and the Land of Fire. Right in the middle, was a small drawing of a few houses - an indication of where your community once resided. Where you once were.

Sakura peered over his shoulder, looking at the piece of paper with interest.

"There still don't seem to be any indication for a building being here", she noted, before kneeling next to him and caressing the grass with her fingers, "This part of the field was grown by someone. Look, it is a different shade and size from the rest! It is like someone tried to cover the area."

Sasuke stood up, eyes still focused on the piece of paper. There was one, just a brief pencil line, that started from the drawn houses and continued up, till it ended at the burnt end. The man has stared at least a hundred times at the map in your house and he could swear he has never seen this line on it.

"You must have used it to plan where to leave next", he thought to himself. Because deep down he knew you were not dead - everything was left too perfect, including planting seeds in the place which you used to occupy, for him to believe you had met your end.

No, you had to be somewhere out there, rebuilding what shinobi like him have destroyed during the war.

He turned his head toward the sun, watching it slowly dip beyond the horizon. His fingers put the paper in his pocket, before he turned to Sakura, informing her they have to go and find an inn before it gets too dark.

Some people leave your life just as unexpectedly as they show up. They offer nothing but distant memories of shared late evenings and cold tea, which soon make you question your sanity and if they were ever real at all.

And for Sasuke, such person was you.

cc artwork: Clement Tingry

[jhuzen]

*pops open another beer 🍺*

helloooooo can u pls give me some sugar baby dottore hcs??? i am currently bent on him i need u to quench this thirst

the love in hatred [m.reader]

hope i’m not too late in quenching your thirst beer anon hsjsjdsj. i was busy with some uni things and only got to it now. hope you don’t mind me adding in a little spice in the dynamic ;D and i’m sure you like it nsfw so there are some little sprinkles of it lmao.

𖦹 modern au (but it’s not heavily implied), suggestive themes (of course), a little bit of dark themes, possessive dottore but he hates you at first lol, nsfw terms, reader is rich rich.

Imagine…

Sugar Baby Dottore who absolutely despises you and every fiber of your very being. You were the antithesis of his existence, absolute respite encompassed you while he was the unyielding scholar. He pursued knowledge until the very edge of Teyvat, while you sat back and relaxed, stopping because you ‘know your limits’. You’re a coward in his eyes, that’s what. But you’re a coward that can make a lot of money. And a coward that he can coerce into giving him financial aid in his experiments because he doesn’t want to lower his pride to ask Pantalone instead.

Sugar Baby Dottore who was welcomed by the not-so-cowardly you when he came to strike up a deal with you. No longer were you that chipper easygoing lad that he despised, but an incredibly emotionally constipated man that can barely work your facial muscles into a fake smile. It almost felt like getting bit back in the ass by the way you threw him off the loop. He no longer knew you the same way you no longer knew him. It’s a clean slate. But he still hates you.

Sugar Baby Dottore who was genuinely surprised that you didn’t need a lot of convincing. That you were willing to give him everything as long as he abides by certain rules and requests of yours. He hates it (and again, you), but he’d rather cut his throat than ask Pantalone for even a tiny pouch of mora. And while he’s relentless in his pursuit of knowledge, the man knows even the mora in his pockets have limits.

Sugar Baby Dottore who was relatively glad that you never once placed him under a tight budget. You were generous with him and maybe he sort of liked that all he had to do was spread his legs and tempt you into a good time. No attachment. As soon as the fun (for you at least) ends, Dottore wakes up with an allowance that any Northland Bank branch could only gawk at. It was ridiculously heavy.

Sugar Baby Dottore who only ever resorted to seducing you when he needs something at this very instant and his little impatient mind couldn’t bare you entertaining your big shot clients first. You promised you’d give him everything if he fucked you dry, right? Often times, when his impatience strikes, he’s already grabbing at the lapels of your pristine suit, tugging you away from your now confused clients while you and him screw in the empty room right next to your study. After milking you dry, he already has his greedy little palm out, expecting you to just drop your entire leather wallet on him (he’s hoarded so much of your wallets already).

Sugar Baby Dottore who at first finds your date nights annoying but necessary (to butter you up into buying him new laboratory apparatuses) — you’re so difficult to talk to! Unlike your days in youth when you would engage him with a small smile, you and your annoying stone face only prompted him to want to watch bacteria cultures grow in a petri dish. But the moment you start opening about your work the more he feels relatively intrigued.

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s slowly starting to cherish the little knickknacks you give him. He never really batted an eye to the souvenirs you’d bring home to him from your international trips. In fact, he used to cherish the times you were away. He still receives cash and he doesn’t have to fuck you. Anyway, he used to just ignore them and opted to only take interest in the money you give him for his lab equipment, but it’s recently that he’s staring more and more at the taxidermies of certain native species you gave him. And maybe some of those magnet things from each nation… if one looked behind his wheeled whiteboard, they could see some of the ones you brought home.

Sugar Baby Dottore who starts to get more conscious of how he looks around you and starts taking effort in looking good for you. Don’t get him wrong, he knows he looks good, it’s partly why you agreed immediately in financially supporting him. For his looks and his body. But there was something refreshing in making a conscious effort of looking even more alluring — absolutely loving the way your usually stern eyes just digging into his form.

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s slowly becoming addicted to your scent. Your imported colognes that he used to gag at, he’s now spraying into his suit before he heads to the laboratory, absolutely loving the way when your eyes twinkle in recognition at his new scent whenever he passes by you to get his daily allowance of a hundred thousand mora (how are you not broke yet, no one knows).

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s slowly feeling the grips of insanity when he realizes that his hatred for you is dissipating into nothingness. When he’s slowly looking forward to your cock shoved up inside him more and more. He hates that within the few months that you and him made that deal, he’s becoming more and more enamored to the mornings where he can still see you beside him, your big sturdy back facing him with all the scratch marks and love bites he made on you the night prior.

Sugar Baby Dottore who becomes far more possessive. Suddenly, the tables have turned. He thought he’d always have the upper hand, he could charm you with his body and there’s mora in his pocket in an instant. But somehow it’s him that gets hungrier and hungrier for you — he went on an all time high the one time you dropped by his laboratory to talk to him about something he doesn’t remember anymore. He likes the attention you’re giving him and archons, he wants you to have him as your sole object of affection. This man will go feral if you made external arrangements in your business trips.

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s becoming clingy to you. He can’t leave you alone for a second. His addiction of you festering within him. Suddenly, it’s not just about the mora that you’re giving him anymore. It’s suddenly turning into a matter of your loyalty to him, that one day you’ll make him your pretty wife, financially secured with his own laboratory in your mansion, leaving you no room for bargains while he stuffs himself with a mouthful of your delicious cock.

Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

May you kiss your bachelor days goodbye now, because he’s never letting go of you.

Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

Oh no! It seems like your pretty little doctor has moved onto the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Bonjour, dear Headmage!" Rook's voice resonates before the hunter appears out of seemingly nowhere, like usual. "Don't mind me, I just couldn't help but need to sate my curiosity. After all, for how long you've been here, not much is known about you. Where you're from, what's the extent of your powers, ce genre de choses (things like that). I'm not the only one curious, even: a little rose mentioned something along those lines during an impromptu visit of yours truly to his Alchemy class."

I believe the asker is referring to a voice line that Riddle has when Crowley drops into Alchemy for a Special Lesson. He wonders what kind of magic the headmaster must use--though knowledge of this line isn't necessary to enjoy this interaction.

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

It's odd, Rook had concluded, that he cannot discern anything meaningful about Crowley. It’s unlike the huntsman to be lacking in information, in details—but when it came to him, it became a jumbled mess. Unknown birthday, unknown home country, unknown past and powers. No records in any textbooks or formal documentation he could find.

All that was known was the name, occupation, height and weight. The bare basics. Hardly anything to work off of.

Rook regarded Crowley with curious eyes carved into emerald crescents. He provided his brightest smile, his warmest voice. He was a hunter laying out a nasty snare for his prey.

“By all means, I invite you to elucidate. I would personally love to learn more of our dearly beloved headmaster and his long and most illustrious career.”

“It seems as though my students have been gossiping about me once again… even my most studious boys!” Crowley mumbled to himself. (Rook’s hypersensitive ears had no issues picking up his words.) “Dear me, I’m too popular for my own good!!”

Then, addressing Rook in full, “I understand that you are all dying to know more about your dashing, intelligent, highly competent headmaster—however, prying into the personal matters of your teachers is not necessary to your pursuit of a magic education. I ask that you grant your instructors and myself our much-needed privacy.

“Adult matters are just that: adult matters! One day you will understand when you, too, get to be of that age.”

Rook's brows pinched ever so slightly. It's as though the briefest of clouds has passed by the sun, drowning out its light--but it returned, the momentary shift imperceptible to the naked eye.

“Je suis désolé,” he said, lowering into an apologetic bow. "I will mind my words when speaking to my superiors."

"Good, good! I shall be off, then. There are important snacks--" Crowley stopped and hurriedly corrected himself. "Erm, I mean important paperwork in my office which I must attend to. Enjoy the rest of your day, my student!"

The headmaster turned and started to make his way out of the courtyard. His back, exposed.

When the arrow came flying at his head, Crowley didn't flinch, didn't move--didn't have to. It froze midair, nowhere near its intended target, then dropped to the ground. A second later, a crystalline shield flickered into view, then vanished again.

Oh là là!

Rook's heart leapt with excitement. His interest, piqued.

Crowley craned his head back at him.

"Oops! Slip of the hand," the huntsman chuckled, not sounding so innocent with his excuse. He made no effort to hide the bow and a quiver he had somehow produced from his robes.

Bait left out to lure him in.

“Careful, Hunt-kun,” Crowley tuts, wagging a finger. “I may be a kind man, but even my kindness has its limits. I assure you, you do not wish to incur my wrath."

The headmaster--it was the same headmaster, harmless as ever, but... His shadow, it seemed to stretch along the path, taking on a new sinister shape. A monstrous raven, beak full of dagger-like teeth and blood-red eyes.

A chilling thrill bolted through Rook.

"That man seems so preoccupied with trivial matters," Riddle had once said. "It's difficult to believe he is a formidable mage."

Non, Roi des Roses. It appears that our headmaster is, in fact, quite the formidable mage indeed.

"... Bien sûr." Rook knelt, laying his bow and arrows on the ground. "You have my word. No more trickery or deception, fufu."

"Excellent! I'm glad we understand each other," Crowley chirped with the twirl of his cane. "Because I am so very generous, I shall overlook this transgression and allow you to be on your merry way."

He taped his lips together and whistled as he walked off. A cheery tune lifted up into the air like a bird taking flight.

Rook silently marveled at the beauty--and horror--of it.

[norwegika]

ITTSSSSS TIMEEEEEE for bachelors yapping time continues! Imma be going over what I think should change about the bachelors after you marry them :3 this will all be going off the assumption that there is now a 20 heart limit and 1-3 additional cutscenes

Spoilers for stardew relationships btw

Alr first my favorite bachelor: Alex. I’m thinking although Alex always stays in shape he does give up on his dreams of being a professional grid ball player, buttttt I think it would be really nice if he starts a workout club for the dudes fr, where they work on personal fitness, getting stronger, and now Harvey could have a place to get fitter while feeling less embarrassed! Maybe when he starts it you get a little quest to gather stuff to make workout equipment and he uses an additional wing of your house to do so. I also think it would be nice if he starts working as a gridball commentator so that he can still enjoy his favorite spot. A cutscene for both of these ideas would be nice

Next is our favorite recoverin alcoholic: SHANE I personally love Shane so much he’s amazing. I think as you progress your relationship with Shane he could help Pam get her addiction under control. Of course though, his main pursuit after he marries you would be the chickens! I’m thinking he would either join Marnie at the ranch and start helping out there or he could be the “coopmaster” at your farm, and he could do the same thing as an autopetter and auto grabber, but all eggs harvested by him would be one quality grade higher, and if you have blue chickens they would produce “Blue Eggs”, which would sell for a lot more and produce “Blue Mayo”, which could be a loved gift for Shane and maybe Jas. His new cutscenes could be a scene where a blue chicken lays the first blue egg and a scene where he talks to Pam about addiction.

Now we got Elliot. The weird thing about Elliot is he actually does do things after you marry him. He ends up going on a tour for his book! This is amazing but I think it could be expanded on. I’m thinking he decides to write another book about life in Pelican Town and after a while it’s a cult hit. He becomes quite famous and gets visited by paparazzi in a cutscene where he talks to you about the burden of fame but how it’s all worth it with you by his side (aww). You could also after that get fan mail delivered to your mailbox? Could be fun and maybe another secret could be added from that. In addition to all that, I think marrying Elliot could give you an exclusive book power? I don’t have any ideas specifically but that would make sense ✨

Harvey: Harvey, after you marry him, would still work at the hospital, but he would no longer charge you for services like reviving you, and you would have a special cutscene where he tells you “you make me worry about you too much when you go into the mines” “I love you too much” or something like that. I also think that he would start talking to the people who fly above the valley and begin to be known as the Stardew Valley Navigator, and maybe you would meet one of the pilots and he would take Harvey for a ride in the plane :3 also I feel like as his relationship with you progressed he would no longer love coffee because he isn’t overworking himself so much :D other ideas include a slight health increase when married to Harvey and maybe a scene where he impresses the A.S.S trio with his knowledge of jazz

Alright next up is Sam! First up, I think Sam needs to start getting bigger with his music. After you reach 16 hearts, he should get an offer from a minor record company who really liked his sound in the “Happy Junimo Show” soundtrack. They offer a deal where he sells them one single and if it works out they could get him signed. You receive three choices for the genre, and he submits it and waits. A week later, he hears back from the company, who really enjoyed it and offer him a contract. This leads to another cutscene at 18 hearts where he performs his first single as the opener for a music festival. After that, you can always hear that first single on Sam’s boombox. Sam brings you up on stage and says “This song is dedicated to my amazing partner, [name]”, and the cutscene ends.

Sebastian: Sebastian is too edgy bro but I’ll make this shit work lemme lock in rq

Sebastian, of course, starts to breed frogs! I think that could be really cool if you could get a cutscene where you now have a frog that roams the farm looking cute, maybe collecting mixed seeds and fiber and delivering it to you while you’re in bed? I’m going to be so fr I can’t think of stuff for him lol he’s a lot harder ngl… Maybe a garage addition to the house? Where he works on his motorcycle once a week?Ngl this is mid he’s too emo lol LMK IF YOU HAVE BETTER IDEAS

[myfairstarlight]

Chronicles of Two Writers in Love

AO3 Link.

Rated: G

Length: 3.5k (for now 👀)

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington

Canon Compliant

Summary:

As Penelope and Colin settle into their new married life, each also embarks on their own literary pursuits. Colin aims to publish his journals, while Penelope is reworking her Whistledown column for the upcoming season. Though, these projects would be much easier to accomplish if they could stop distracting one another. Or if life did not throw another surprise their way. Or. A compilation of post-s3 domestic scenes wherein Colin and Penelope build an empire and a family.

*additional notes on ao3

꧁༺���ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Colin was overlooking the mess that the Featherington finances are when his office door opens on Penelope’s giddy and radiant smile. He raises a curious eyebrow when she does not say anything and keeps tiptoeing her way towards him.

“Is there something wrong, Pen?” he asks, although perhaps “wrong” is not the correct adjective to use, considering his wife’s excitement.

She shakes her head as she walks around the desk to drape herself over Colin’s back instead. Colin blinks before leaning against her, smiling as a few strands of red curly hair tickle his neck. Although used to such displays of affection now, the novelty never seems to wear out.

“No,” Penelope says simply at last, and then her hands travel down Colin’s arms, her fingers purposely lingering on his muscles, he is pretty certain, until they reach his hands. She grabs the pencil he was holding to toss it across the desk.

“Wh— Pen!” Colin sighs, although not unkindly, rather amused even. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“Do you?” his wife replies.

“Yes, I love you,” he says like a lovesick fool, breathing in her honeydew perfume. “Which is nothing new. Unless you desire details about the horrid state your father left your estate in.”

He almost regrets offering his help when Portia kept complaining the other day when she came to visit. Colin, as a third son, neither the heir nor the spare, never had to worry about such things but he still was taught how to manage an estate and provinces at Eton, then by his brothers when he came back, just in case, though his knowledge remains limited compared to them. He laments who the next Lord Featherington will be — or well, who will act as the new head of the household until their son is old enough. His new brother-in-laws are kind men, but quite simple-minded, and untitled as well. Such responsibility would be quite a drastic and terrifying change. Colin is not much of a pious man, but he does pray for Albion and Harry.

Penelope makes a face. “I suppose these papers must be important then.”

“Yes…” Colin says slowly, trying not to react when his childhood friend and love of his life starts pushing said papers on one side of the desk and manages to squeeze herself on his lap. Not a terribly difficult endeavour, actually.

“More important than me?” Penelope quips, tilting her head and smiling innocently.

“That is a trick question, isn’t it.”

“I do not know what you mean.” The innocent smile turns sly.

“My wife is a menace.” Penelope visibly melts at the word wife and Colin decides those papers can wait, after all, he can always ask for Benedict's help later. He carefully cards his fingers through Penelope’s hair, tilting her head back and then kissing her jaw.

Penelope giggles, her right hand tracing the side of his neck, fingers playing with his cravat. “Your wife, dear husband, also happens to be with child,” she whispers into his ear, bringing one of his hands to her stomach.

Colin stops moving, breath knocked out of him in an instant. Penelope’s mischievous smile turns gentle as she intertwines their fingers together.

“Truly?” 

Penelope nods and then laughs as Colin lifts her onto the desk, showering her with kisses and caresses anew. It is safe to say that the important papers are quickly forgotten for the rest of the week.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

“Pen,” Colin whines, “you should not be working in your condition!”

“I am merely writing, that is hardly life-threatening,” Penelope chides, trying to ignore her husband’s grabby hands around her waist. “Colin! I’m editing your book!”

“And the sun has gone down, my book can wait another day to be finished.”

For someone so eager to become a published author, Colin sure has been the main reason his book is taking so long to be delivered to his publisher. His concern for her well-being ever since she announced her pregnancy is endearing, if not a little annoying, for she is perfectly capable of working still. She barely looks different, compared to her sisters who are already at the Featherington country estate to hide away.

“Shush, I am almost done, I might as well.”

Colin pouts, unrelenting. “Do not make me use my secret weapon.”

“What are you on about— Colin put me down!” Penelope yelps as she finds herself lifted into strong familiar arms, managing to grasp the pieces of paper and her pencil before they fly off her desk. She huffs, meeting the satisfied and a bit arrogant smile her husband gives her.

“Compromise? You can finish these last pages in our bed, while I still get to hold you,” he says, nuzzling her neck.

“Hardly seems like a compromise when you are already walking towards said bed, Mr Bridgerton.”

“You do not seem to mind, Mrs Bridgerton.”

She does love to be in his arms, after all, but Penelope does not give him the satisfaction of her answer. Instead, she casts her eyes back on her papers, pretending to ignore him as she mentally visualises the changes that need to be made. She leans her head against Colin’s chest as her husband starts humming happily upon winning what he is considering a small battle.

Soon, she finds herself among soft silken sheets as Colin manoeuvers them so he may sit against the headboard, Penelope half-laying on him between his legs. His arms naturally find her middle, hands gently caressing the beginning of a bump, and he rests his chin on her head. Penelope, on her part, smiles fondly, almost getting distracted enough to forego her work and simply snuggle with her husband.

“You know,” she says after some time, earning a small hum from a sleepy Colin, “I like that last line.” She circles it with her pencil, adding a small heart next to it.

“Of course you do, it is about you,” he replies lazily, kissing her head. “My love, my life, my purpose.”

As my travels come to an end, I realise that this endless search for a purpose was a long-winded distraction, for home is where my love is, and I shall now return where she has patiently and kindly waited for me.

The Penelope to my Odysseus.

“Are you certain about the title though?” Penelope wonders out loud.

She only gets a petulant huff in response. Sounds like she really won't be able to make him change his mind about it.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Despite the Queen’s approval, Penelope is afraid of continuing her column, Colin can tell. He catches her at night getting off their bed to settle by her desk, a small candle for only company, as she goes through the old Whistledown columns with the eyes of a forlorn lover. She doesn't like to talk about it, but Colin knows she has been prioritising his drafts over her own writing, lately. He is flattered by her eagerness to help, but also quite worried by it.

“You need rest, love,” he tells her on one of those nights as he, too, leaves the bed to read over her shoulder. She currently has Lady Whistledown’s very first column crinkled between her fingers.

“Mm,” is all she responds with, not moving from her desk.

“Pen.”

“Col.”

He grimaces. “You know I hate that.”

Finally, she tears her eyes away from the Whistledown column to give him a small, mischievous smile by tilting her head back. Colin bends down — goes down to his knees, really — to kiss her forehead, and she leans against his chest.

“Want to talk about it?” She shakes her head. “Alright.”

She makes a surprised noise but doesn't say anything else for a while. Then, gently, she pokes at his hands currently resting on her shoulders.

“Colin.”

“Mm?”

“I do not know what to do.”

“Regarding?”

“Everything.”

That is a loaded answer indeed.

“We can figure it out together, Pen, you’re not alone anymore, remember?” he says, gently playing with her hair while she buries her face in his neck. Although she tries to quiet her cries, Colin can feel her tears through the fabric of his chemise. He breathes in as she wraps her arms around him, bringing them even closer.

After a while, as the candle is almost completely burned out, Penelope pulls back with a loud sniffle that turns into quite an ugly snort. The sound makes them both pause before they burst out in fits of giggles.

“Ah, I’m a mess,” she sniffs. “No wonder Prudence was this emotional at our wedding if that is what pregnancy does to you.”

Colin wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favourite sister-in-law.

“Want to talk about it now?” he asks again.

Penelope remains silent for a few instants, eyes closing, as if resigned.

“I should,” she mutters.

“But do you want to?” Colin insists.

Her eyes fly open, crystal blues looking at him with such disbelief, that it makes Colin’s heart ache. Then, she smiles, a hand cupping his cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

“Thank you, my ever-considerate and patient man. I love you so much,” she whispers, before bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss. Colin fully indulges in it. “I do want to,” Penelope answers at last after they pull away. “Let’s get back to bed first, though, your knees must ache.”

“My…?” He blinks, indeed remembering he has been kneeling for at least the past thirty minutes. “Oh.”

He hastily stands up, wincing as a few bones crack at the sudden movement.

Penelope bites her lip, surely to stop herself from laughing again. “Come on, take me to bed, husband.” She lifts her arms then with an indulgent smile. Colin grins wide and swiftly scoops her up into his arms with little to no difficulty.

As they settle into bed, Penelope immediately disregards her pillow to instead lay on his chest with a pleased hum.

“Where to begin…” she muses, her hand drawing patterns on his chest as she starts to speak. Colin wonders if it makes her comfortable. He is not going to complain.

So he listens, as she lists her worries concerning Whistledown, how she will gather gossip now that her face and name are shown, how to keep the Queen’s ever so fleeting favourable opinion, how to ensure no one in their family is affected by her work, especially now that they will soon have a child of their own.

From then on, she strays, talking about the various names she has been thinking about, how she imagines them to look like, and how they must have Colin’s eyes, apparently.

Eventually, she naturally drifts off to sleep before Colin can say anything in return. However, her body is completely relaxed against his in a way she has not been for weeks now, and a peaceful smile is on her lips. Colin kisses her temple and wishes her good dreams.

They can leave the worries and his suggestions for another day. For now, Colin is simply happy to provide a peaceful night as he gathers her closer to his heart.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

“Is he alright?” Daphne asks, nodding towards Colin who is dramatically lying on the couch, one arm draped over his forehead, and the other hanging onto the bucket Rae has provided him with.

“Morning sickness,” Penelope replies. “Although it has extended beyond the morning, it seems,” she adds, looking at the clock indicating that it is around three in the afternoon.

Her sister-in-law frowns. “But you’re the one…?”

“I do not understand either. He has also been having odd food cravings, although that may be normal for him, actually.”

“Mm. And you are fine?”

Penelope shrugs. “Surprisingly? Yes.” 

Colin starts groaning then. Penelope rushes to his side, leaning against the side of the sofa as she runs a hand through his wild curls. Her husband smiles dopily, his groans turning into pleased hums. 

“We are being terrible hosts, I must apologise,” Penelope says. “You’ve come all this way…”

Daphne chuckles, waving a dismissive hand. “Do not worry, it was no hassle. Though now I feel like you will not be the one in need of my special blend of tea to deal with the sickness.”

Penelope looks down at her now-sleeping husband. “Probably not.” A pause. “We just received a copy of his book, waiting for final approval before publication. He has not had the strength to go through it without the sudden need to empty his stomach.”

“Poor giant puppy,” Daphne mutters.

“Daphne!”

“What!” The duchess laughs. “Knowing my brother he is probably exaggerating just so you can dote on him, though you are the one carrying his child.”

Penelope feels Colin’s face twitch under her fingertips at his sister’s accusation, proving he is not actually asleep. Truth be told, she has had her suspicions, though she cannot help but indulge her husband. He looks oh so adorable when in such misery.

“Can I read the book?” Daphne inquires.

Colin suddenly sits up. “Absolutely not!”

Penelope has to rub his back as another nausea takes hold of him at the abrupt movement.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Philippa and Prudence both give birth to little girls. Albion and Harry are relieved. Colin, on the other hand, is filled with dread.

Not at the idea of having a son— he would love his child, whether they turn out to be a boy or a girl. No, the issue is with the goddamn Featherington estate. He knows the odds that Penelope gives birth to a girl like her sisters are slim, which means he must prepare himself to officially deal with the mess that Archibald Featherington has left in his death, and that Portia Featherington has worsened, somehow, by adding fraud to the debts. When he asked for Benedict’s help, months ago, when he curiously looked at the records, his brother’s eyes widened with horror.

“I will be honest, Col, I don’t think even Anthony would know what to do with this. It is a miracle the Featheringtons were still in society!”

“Well, you cannot ignore that Lady Featherington is one cunning lady,” Colin reluctantly admitted.

So. That was grand. And Colin surely would not wish for his hypothetical son to be burdened by this.

But then Penelope props herself on his desk one day, effortlessly reading through the financial ledgers and pointing where improvements could be made with a faux air of casualty. Colin is left to stare, feeling, well, something stir within him at the new sight before him.

“What? I had to handle my Whistledown finances by myself, did you forget?” Penelope chuckles, happily letting Colin snake his way between her legs.

“Is there anything you cannot do, dear wife?” he inquires, lips mere inches from her neck.

She hums, a hand settling on the back of his head and playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “Not really.” He starts to pepper kisses on her exposed skin, earning more giggles. “Mm. Colin, do you reckon who will come out first? Your child or your book? You approved it months ago now…”

“I do not really care either way,” he mumbles, far too distracted by his need to taste his wife.

Penelope pulls away then, a serious expression back on her face. It takes everything in Colin to not pout. “I would like to celebrate your achievement before we have to worry about parenthood, or salvaging my father’s mess, personally.”

“That is if we do have a son,” he points out, a hand settling on her round belly.

“I just have a feeling,” she says with a shrug.

“Or you just really want to win this heir race thing.”

She gasps. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing, competitiveness is your thing, Bridgerton!”

“Tsk and you’re a Bridgerton too, now,” he reminds her. “And admit it, it would allow you to get a rise out of your sisters.”

He would know. He keeps reminding Eloise he was the one who met Penelope first.

“I already had a taste of that, their faces were quite amusing when I was being courted by a Lord.” He pinches her side. “Hey!”

“Do not remind me of this miserable time.”

His dearest wife dares to roll her eyes at him. “I have no care for a title or my old name. But if we do not have a son…”

“Your mother would despair,” he finishes for her, smiling. Penelope’s immense heart will never cease to amaze him.

“She… has never loved my father, but that title, that name, she cares for it so deeply. It would kill her to see it go to someone we may not even know after everything she had to sacrifice for it.”

“Pen… I understand, but it is not something we can control either. I do not want you to be disappointed—”

“God no! I could never be disappointed!” she protests immediately, her hands flying to join his against her belly. “Our child, Colin. How could I ever be disappointed we made a life together? It is just— you know, Prudence won’t let Mother live with her and Harry.”

Colin makes a face. “Philippa?” She seems like the type of woman to simply follow whatever her mother tells her to do, and she was the first to be married. She seems like the logical choice.

“My mother hates cheese.”

“Oh Lord, are you telling me we will be stuck with her no matter what?!”

Penelope only sheepishly smiles.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

If Eloise had known her best friend was with child, she would have delayed her departure for Scotland because learning about it through a letter and the new Whistledown column — which added the fact that the child is the new Lord Featherington, something both Penelope and Colin forgot to mention in their letter — was not something she appreciated. It felt distant, awakening guilt within her that she could not be there to support her best friend.

It is odd, she thinks, or perhaps cruel, that she did not feel that same kind of guilt for Daphne. Perhaps it is because her sister is living somewhere else, far from Bridgerton House, whereas Penelope and Colin remained near Mayfair, and are now moving back into Featherington House. She loves her sister dearly, of course, but they have always had differing interests, and her love for family and the desire to build one was one Eloise could never truly connect with, she who dreaded her presentation.

With Colin, she could always find a sense of kinship with him through his curiosity for the world. They were much similar in that way, she thinks, with the only difference being that he was allowed to go and learn about all these subjects that piqued his interest. In a way, although she disparaged him a lot with his tales of his travels, Eloise lived through his words. Jealousy is what made her so bitter, two years ago. And now she gets to read them, now that she has seen a little bit of the world as well herself.

(Granted, Scotland was not groundbreaking the way Greece or India could have been, but still.)

And then, of course, there is Penelope. Her dear, clever, too-good-for-Colin Penelope, for whom words are not enough to describe Eloise’s love, who dreamed of love and grand achievements. She who protected her work and her loved ones with a fierceness Eloise could only wish she could reach one day.

So perhaps the guilt truly stems from the fact that two of her favourite people have created a life together, and Eloise could not be there to witness them becoming a family, and she feared that she would be left behind again.

(There was also this horrid voice in the back of her mind, always. She could have lost Penelope. What if something went wrong, during the birth, and Eloise came back to a desolate garden?)

Oh, how wrong she was.

She is crying, that much is certain, though Penelope and Colin are polite enough to not point it out. And the reason for her cries is the little bundle of joy in her arms currently playing with her hair.

And his name is Thomas Elliot Bridgerton.

“I will be your favourite aunt, I have to, what with you being named after me, huh?” she tells the baby, whose big blue eyes look at her with wonder before another giggle escapes his lips.

She smiles, her eyes drifting away to Penelope and Colin again, who are by the window. Penelope is holding up some drafts, explaining something, while Colin listens intently, occasionally sharing some insights of his own. Both of their hands are stained with ink as well, these restless overachievers. Eloise’s gaze softens at the sight.

She was terrified things would change, and they did.

But some things don’t.

She holds Thomas closer to her heart, kissing his head when the baby giggles once more and tries to wrap his tiny arms around her. She looks forward to this new life ahead of her.

[reds-ultrakill-brainrot]

what are your headcanons of their preferred traits and personalities in a s/o? (i don't know if you have a character limit but if you wouldn't write all 4 maybe both v1 and minos?)

Their Type

preferred traits in their s/o headcanons (included characters; V1, V2, Gabriel, Minos)

x reader content (read platonic or romantic)

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V1

- they would prefer someone more talkative compared to quiet, lacking the ability to speak they love to hear their s/o talk and are always willing to hear a rant about something they love/hate. they are a very engaged listener and will prompt you to continue even if you get embarrased, they will never not find your passion on a subject to be annoying - similar to themselves they appreciate a partner who has a creative spark. they will be your greatest supporter and would love working on any creative pursuit with you. if you are knowledgable in music they will help write sheet music for you, composing new songs about both their life experiences and yourself - V1 is quite adventurous and as such would appreciate a partner who could at least keep up with them, preferably having a similar enthusiasm for such escapades. they do appreciate lazy days from time to time but as they are incapable of feeling physicaly tired they tend to have an insatiable need to move - a song to represent the relationship would be Back to You by WILD

V2

- somewhat similar to V1 they would prefer a partner who is more talkative, though they like a partner with fire to them, someone who can and will backtalk or is open to teasing. they see such interaction as a challenge and a way to show that they do not underestimate their partner, they will only challenge what they believe you can meet - a partner who is decisive would also be appealing to them, they aren't insensitive to anxiety but they find confidence in yourself to be much more attractive - they would find passion and skill to be appealing. V2 appreciates a partner who is capable in their own right, someone who applies themself to their work and is willing to dedicate to a task for the pleasure of mastering something would find themselves in good company around them. such a shared passion for mastery would help them feel understood - a song to represent the relationship would be love u lately by Laica

Gabriel

- a partner who is caring or empathetic towards Gabriel would be especially attractive to him, he finds showing kindness to himself to be difficult, and having a partner willing to give him the break he denies himself is appealing - he would find spirit or enthusiasm for life to be appealing in a partner, so much of his life has been dictated by duty and task, a partner who finds the concept of living and the human experience to be enjoyable/inspiring would inspire a similar enjoyment of life in himself - gentleness would be similarly appreciated, the only tenderness he has been shown was your touch, such a disposition would show him a new way to interact with the world. he finds himself prefering to avoid violence after being shown it is an option - a song to represent the relationship would be Sunlight by Hozier

Minos Prime

- being an older soul Minos would find maturity similar to his own to be attractive. he expects a certain level of emotional literacy in his partner and finds childish behaviour to be exasperating - being a good conversationalist would similarly be attractive. good conversation is an art, being able to convey ideas in an engaging way similar to him would lead to many a pleasant afternoon, simply being in eachother's company enough to entertain - having a well read partner would be appealing to him as he is very knowledgable about both the arts and history, being able to have an engaging and lengthy talk about such topics would give the both of you a better understanding of eachother's thoughts and views on the world and he finds such a connection important to a strong relationship - a song to represent the relationship would be Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier

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many thanks for reading, sorry about the wait and the brevity of each section, i'm prioritising getting requests out. again sorry for the wait, ive been sleeping most days away due to the cold. a small apology for Gabriel's section, many of the traits do fall into the "having to teach a man basic human decency" category however i believe this is the one of the few cases where it isn't toxic. also let's be real here, we all love a good 'i can fix him' moment when the man isn't a raging asshole

small inquiry, would anyone be interested in being assigned a song for their relationship with an ultrakill character? similar to what i included in this post however i will elaborate on it. i will tag it seperately so they can be blocked if unwanted, but i thought that may be cute. if i get an anon or two giving the go ahead i will open my requests to such an idea

[vaspider]

Yo, so this is less so a specific ask and more me having the need to verbalize some stuff with the option of getting input from someone with a more knowledgable perspective. I have been thinking a fair bit about Judaism and dabbling with the idea of converting to it. I don’t think it’s something for me, but I am tentatively thinking about the option.

The thing is. I assume you’re familiar with the difference between hard magic and soft magic systems in writing. (If not, the tldr is hard magic is defined with hard rules and limitations and soft magic is more ambiguous and fluid.) And I think my basic thing is that I am very open to what you could call soft spirituality and faith, but unable to jell with any hard beliefs.

For example I can never get myself to really entertain the idea of an afterlife being set up in a very specific way with specific rules and where you know what is happening and why. But I saw that tweet that went around a while ago that was like “I hope that death is like being a child at a party and falling asleep, so somebody carries you to bed and I hope when I die I can still hear the laughter from the other room” and that fucked me up beyond words.

I have gone through a couple religions and beliefs over my life and never found a framework that really fit with me, but in the past couple of years I have developed a lot and realized I have a yearning for spiritual things. My current view could probably best be described as a pantheist leaning agnostic enamored with the idea of belief and experience shaping purpose and giving structure… sort of. As well as the power of belief and to change the way you see the world for the better. It’s hard to explain specifically the angle I like.

The reason I am caught up on Judaism rn is that in a lot of ways it seems to be based around a lot of soft spirituality. I am absolutely in love with the idea that god, or the divine, or spirit, whatever one may call it is not something concrete, not one existence, but more of a force like the laws of physics, or the rules of math. I adore the idea of little rituals and rules to bring god into your life and through that connecting you to culture and history and people and community and spirituality. I love the idea you talked about some time in the past of the four kinds of jews, based on studying the scriptures and following the rules, and that even those who do neither are still a vital part of the jewish people and are needed for it to be whole. There’s so many little details that appeal to me so strongly, because they’re exactly the kind of stuff I am yearning for.

But I feel like the hard aspects keep me away. I love the idea of rules and rituals to shape your life, but I don’t think I could follow the rules of Judaism, because having a preset set of rules feels too hard for me. Similarly I love the idea of studying the texts and the never ending pursuit of decifering the meaning and arguing about it, but I don’t think I could get interested in ever doing it, because having a specific text to do it with is too hard.

So I feel very conflicted, because the way Judaism feels to me from the outside, it shows me both the soft aspects of spirituality I absolutely adore and yearn for, and at the same time the hard aspects that keep me away from religion. And they feel very connected and interwoven.

And it feels like especially as a convert being a part of it is connected with a huge amount of the hard aspects and a lot of work that goes into those. I’d have to first figure out if there is even any jewish denominations (is that the right word?) near where I live that don’t do circumcision and that aren’t on the conservative side (I have no idea how the situation is where I live) and then do all the studies and the entire process involved in converting (which I admittedly don’t know very much about either, so I might be overstating this) to be part of something I would immediately take a half step away from because I’m only really interested in the ideas behind the actual elements of it and not as much the elements themselves if that makes sense?

I guess this is pretty rambly, but maybe you have some input, or something smart to say and if not I hope I’m not coming across as this guy right now:

I think that in the process of writing this ask, you seem to have figured out that this isn't for you right now. If you get to a point where all of those things aren't standing in your way but are a to-do list, that will be when you know it's for you.

And they're generally called movements, not denominations.

[localplaguenurse]

hii its amorette—can i just say i freaked out when i saw capillaries updated?? i loved the latest chapter so so much!!

i love how you characterize dottore and wanted to ask if you have any tips on how you write him / things you keep in mind while writing him, since your fic really inspired me to try writing my own! i hope you have a nice day :DD

Hi Amorette!!! Glad you liked it!

I saw this right as my first break at work ended and suffice to say, it’s been on my mind all day. You’ve opened a Pandora’s box, you’re getting a whole character analysis, because Dottore is actually a royal pain to write about so I have to REALLY study this bastard. The first half is going to be just purely on his canon traits, and the rest are my interpretations and headcanons.

So canonically, Dottore is very prideful and driven by the pursuit of knowledge. No subject is off limits to him, and he doesn’t care about how ethical or moral his research is. Whatever he needs to do, he’ll do it, the ends justify the means. He’s been obsessed with surpassing the gods since he was young, which is why he was ostracized by society. Sohreh’s notes describe him as initially “frigid,” but then she goes on to say she had a good time working with him and is looking forward to spending more time with him (Rip Sohreh). He created segments of himself from different ages as a way to surpass the limits of human cognition, and because they could offer their own individual contributions to his research. Omega is described as more selfish since he was the one to nuke the other segments for the gnosis, and Webttore/Beta is more manic and prone to mood swings. Also, none of the segments like each other.

That’s all the canon stuff. With that alone, you already have a pretty solid start for how to write him. He’s a man who views himself above the people who rejected him and wants to surpass the gods that ignored him. He doesn’t really care about keeping company and he barely gets along with himself. He’ll do anything in the pursuit of knowledge and doesn’t care if someone has to die for him to get it done. If Sohreh’s notes are anything to go by, he may have been antisocial but not completely opposed to finding connection, but that’s up to how you personally interpret her notes and subsequent death. He’s very calculating, and though he does resent the gods, he’s at least mature enough to hold it together for a conversation.

Now, onto my personal take on Dottore, which I’ve sprinkled through the fic already but it won’t hurt to share here :3

So the one key thing I have latched onto personally is his name. Zandik. By this point we all know it means “heretic” but really think about that for a second. That is the name of a man who was born in a world where gods are not only real, but they actually interact with the populace. Maybe it was because my bestie got me into Ethel Cain, but I started thinking about the implications/potential of religious trauma. What sort of homelife would a kid have when his own parents named him heretic when god is actually real? Certainly not a very pleasant life. Of course at some point he’d develop a hatred of gods when he’s been seen as a blasphemous monster since he was born. Of course he’d despise society as a whole, they’ve despised him from the start. This isn’t something he asked for, but it’s all he has. He did no wrong and yet all the world hated him for being born, what did they expect him to turn into?

As a result, my personal interpretation of Dottore is that he is still that prideful, cold and calculating scientist that hates the gods and isn’t afraid to do awful things to prove it, but he is also, deep down, motivated by validation. At the very least, that’s how this all started. At this point he’s become more callous, but there’s a part of him that wants to be appreciated, genuinely, by someone or something. This would have been especially prevalent in his younger self/segments, because he’s not as “mature” as he is now. If you cut through the 400 years of his callous cruel ways, you might find a little boy full of pain and anger asking what he did to deserve all of this. 

… TLDR: He’s very smart, very callous, thinks very highly of himself, and I write him as one of those “they treated me like the villain so I became the villain they feared most” characters with a splash or religious trauma for flavour.

If you want to, you're more than welcome to use some of my characterization if you ever write about him! Honestly, for as big a pain in the ass he is to write, he's really interesting to explore as a character! It's actually why my favourite chapters/moments so far are the backstory ones, or whenever he's reflecting on his relationship with widow. He's a bastard and I love him.

[andrew-ism]

Hey, I just wanted to ask as a person from the Caribbean also. What got you so passionate about, or I guess got you into the political sphere. A lot of the things you speak about aren't typical of a lot of Caribbean YouTubers one of the reasons your content stood out to me.

From a very young age, I noticed the problems in my country (Trinidad & Tobago) just from looking around and I wanted to change things. Many of my old drawing and writing books were thus filled with ideas for change or worldbuilding fantasies. I've always loved writing and seen it as my way of shaping the world. As I got older, I spent more time trying to understand the issues, the history, and the contemporary situation by reading, chatting with folks in person and online, and consuming edutainment. My passion for learning was also helped by my homeschooling experience.

Without getting deep into my whole life story and political journey, this pursuit of knowledge and solutions was kicked into overdrive in 2019 as I was introduced to the ideas of socialism and anarchism and later in that same year experienced the depressing and life-draining nature of full-time work for the first time (previously I had done a few part-time internships, short-term contracts, and sole trade work). While in the office, I read digital copies of both The Communist Manifesto and The Conquest of Bread, which led me to start a blog in 2020 where I would be able to publicly share what I had been thinking about and learning about for so long. That was on Medium.com. At that point, I wanted to be an art journalist.

Before long, radical ideas explored through a local lens became the prime focus. But due to low readership over months of consistent effort, I came to see blogging as a medium with limited opportunity for reach in our increasingly video-dominated age, which culminated with the creation of my YouTube channel.

However, as much as I wanted to keep my focus on the country and the region, I couldn't limit my message. I don't tailor my voice and message to either a local audience or an American audience. I grew up on content that acted like America was the only country and audience in the world, but I knew there were people like me globally going through the same issues who didn't want to hear every message filtered through the American lens.

I think both globally and locally when I make my videos, and I believe my approach has allowed me to reach folks internationally, which has gotten me to a size where people across the islands can now more easily take notice of my work and hopefully get some good out of it. My heart remains here in the region, and I would like to expand my reach here in the region, but it's easier said than done. I've seen an opportunity in TikTok, but I really can't add more to my plate at this point. A burning passion for learning combined with consistent effort, the help of various folks, and luck sprinkled in has brought me to where I am now, and that's what I'm trying to maintain going forward.

[sentimentalfoolz]

(SPOILERS for The Brothers Karamazov, The Idiot, and Crime And Punishment)

Major Themes in Dostoevsky’s novels: Russia, Loneliness, Faith, Love, and Redemption

// this is rough, transcripted from an audio recording and only slightly edited. if anyone wants to talk to me about this, please do!

After finishing Crime And Punishment, Notes From Underground, The Brothers Karamazov, and The Idiot (working on Demons currently), I’ve been thinking a lot about the larger themes and concepts that tie Dostoevsky’s works together. Although many of his works are different, I’ve noticed- at least, in my interpretations- that they carry key elements which are integral to understanding and digesting his writing.

Beginning with Crime and Punishment; my first Dostoevsky, and the novel which began my odyssey into his masterful worlds. (this section may be more flawed than the others, as i’ve read it about a year ago) C&P, at its surface, is about the folly of man- inflated ego and its effects on humanity. Raskolnikov likens himself to Napoleon. He believes that he is destined for a greater cause, and he kills because of that deep desire for greatness. But it’s not difficult to grasp that he is truly nobody; he kills for no actual reason, and his crime is simply a crime of hopelessness. And he knows that, and it scares him. In fact, knowing he has no true motive scares Raskolnikov more than people realizing he’s the murderer. Dostoevsky’s characters all seem to represent certain facets of Russia. (my knowledge of Russia in Dostoevsky’s time is limited, so i apologize if I get this completely wrong..) What Raskolnikov feels while nervously roaming the lonely streets of his town is what is occuring in the minds of the Russian people as a whole. When it is concluded that Russia at the time is a lonely, confusing, morally corrupt nation, it becomes more clear how Raskolnikov connects to this greater idea. Many crave to be different, to distinguish themselves from the crowd, to prove that they are just and for a good cause, but truly- as i think Dostoevsky sees it- they’re not. And they cannot run away from that. This becomes more problematic and is heightened when they are forced by societal standards and needs to push their disillusionment down instead of being able to voice them.

Another important theme to consider is redemption and forgiveness. Raskolnikov achieves this at the end of C&P when he is put in Siberia for his crime. (important!!) This concept of forgiveness is integral to Dostoevsky’s faith, which is depicted shamelessly in many of his works. Everyone deserves pardon from their sins if they accept it- everyone is capable of it, too. Raskolnikov finding God in Siberia is extremely similar to Dostoevsky’s experience. He doesn’t shy away from embedding his own experiences into his work. Christianity is important to him. Not wholly because it’s the “correct” way to believe, but because it helps quell the loneliness and feelings of corruption which one may feel in his Russia. It provides an escape, a meaning, a love which can save and teach and inspire goodness in a world which instead inspires much evil.

In The Brothers Karamazov, you see some of the same Christian ideals. There’s Alyosha, who’s a holy beacon of light; though he’s also flawed in his own right, owing to the concept that achieving goodness is a constant pursuit. This is similar to Ivan’s journey, who has the idea that “everything is permissible,” and because of this he inadvertently causes his father’s death. Once again an act of murder on Pavel’s part with no real justification- stemming only from his own loneliness and abuse. Ivan lives a faithless life, focusing on the bad and denying god because of the very real unfairness he sees in the world around him. Though Dostoevsky allows Ivan to make his convincing case, he shows us how this view can falter and lead to only more violence and corruption. The most convincing example of Dostoevsky contending Ivan’s argument is with a scene of redemption at the end of TBK once again. Alyosha talks to a group of young boys and tells them about the importance of respect and friendship, of youthful vitality in loving freely. The children praise the Karamazov name, showing how an act of kindness can overcome the past difficulties and pain in the Karamazov family. Of course, the Karamazovs serve as a symbol for the entirety of the Russian people. Love is the savior- love for God in many cases, love for the people around you, love for the world even through its darkest moments. In a cast of extremes- an extreme athiest in Ivan, who lets his love for the world grow so hurt that it turns inro a hatred- an extreme lover of God in Alyosha, who lets his love blind him sometimes, in Smerdyakov who has never felt love and kills because of it, and an extreme obsessor over romantic love in Dimitri, which overcomes him and drives his every action, Love works in mysterious ways. It consumes the world, but there is a way to harness that love and make it into something truly good and beneficial.

Lonliness is something which blocks this love- and this ties into The Idiot. The cast of The Idiot is a cast of lonely people who find themselves constantly separated from the people around them, unable to connect because of the world which they live in that seems to breed more hatred and contempt rather than true understanding. Prince Myshkin has led his whole life essentially alone, apart from Russia due to his bad case of epilepsy (could this be a reason for his purity? Yes, probably, if we’re sticking to the idea that Russia corrupts its people) and with little outside interaction. Near the beginning of the book, Myshkin reflects on a time living in Switzerland when he started to see a lonely woman because he only wanted to lend her some companionship, not out of romantic love but out of his own great compassion to help others escape the loneliness he feels. Myshkin goes on to meet a cast of characters who, despite being (debatably, but not as physical as his illness) mentally healthy, are just as lonely as he is because Russia is, once again, a lonely place. Then there’s Nastasya, who’s been abused and sees herself as incapable of being and receiving love due to her being “tainted.” The Idiot serves as Dostoevsky’s darkest book because he does not provide redemption for Nastasya. Her loneliness has consumed her so fully and she will not allow the love into her life that she needs to survive. In the same way as Myshkin started to love the woman in Switzerland, Myshkin falls in love with Nastasya, in a wild pursuit to save her. Unfortunately, this tactic of his does not work. It actually ends up all falling apart because of jealousy. But Dostoesvky does provide a concept of a way out, though it’s less articulated- and it’s Myshkin himself. Myshkin is more of a beacon of light that Alyosha. He’s that true barrierless acceptance and childlike loving which is sparse in Russia and powerful in its capablity. By applying that Myshkin mindset to yourself, it is a way to be happy and make others feel happy aswell. But Myshkin is hurt by the people around him, who abuse him for his purity and laugh at his goodness, only because they are afraid of what they have never seen before. Dostoevsky shows (mirroring Jesus’ demise) how the Myshkin mindset ends in punishment, suffering, and injustice, because the world he lives in cannot accept that part of him. Maybe some semblance of redemption is possible, but embodying the Christian ideal and being truly authentic to your inner goodness will oftentimes lead to pain. Continue loving humanity through that. One can only hope that in the afterlife you will be rewarded. Maybe that is the ultimate redemption.

// i want to talk about A LOT more considering christianity, dostoevsky’s usage of provinces and gossip, and i’d love to be more historical in general. probably will rewrite this all when i finish demons, but this is it for now

[redeyerhaenyra]

No words needed

Summary: In which Micolash breaks into your room to fuck and then cuddle you. Reader is a Byrgenwerth student!

Warnings: Somnophilia, fem reader, pwp, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, breaking and entering, slight dubcon?

Notes: My first Micolash fic! My favourite bloodborne sexyman finally gets his debut :) Please tell me what you thought in the comments! I will definitely be writing for him more! Enjoy!

Wc: 1.2k

Unbeknownst to some, Byrgenwerth actually provided dormitories for it's students. They only consisted of a single room with a bed and wardrobe, but it was enough for you. With the money you had to spare, you'd gone out one day, after classes had finished, and bought yourself a lovely soft blanket to cuddle up in on cold winter nights. It was the perfect thing to lull you to sleep, warm and cozy.

You'd already fallen asleep, slept for a while, and then woken up. It was still dark out- you assumed it to be very early in the morning, and decided, since lessons didn't start for several more hours, to stay put in bed. You allowed yourself to grow weary once more, and snuggled down into the depths of your bed, fading in and out of unconsciousness.

However, you were alerted awake, by the sound of your door being meddled with. For modesty's sake, it was quite customary for ladies to lock their bedroom door at night, to halt any scoundrels from attempting to take their innocence before their husbands could. Every time you heard the lock being picked, you grew a tad frightened that it might not be who you suspect it to be, but it always ended up being him.

Micolash always got to bed late, whether it be his own, or yours. Staying up all night studying in Byrgenwerth's expansive library, you couldn't blame him, really. But still.. sleep was a good thing. You'd told him time and time again that he should sleep more, but he wouldn't have any of it. The pursuit of knowledge was something he'd regularly push the limits of his body to achieve.

He was a menace to your mental state, really. You were forever worrying about him. Though, the feeling of the mattress dipping down as he tumbled into bed with you, finally, relieved your constant worry, even if only slightly. You were quite sure he'd not even taken his shoes off, let alone his clothes, but you didn't mind too much. No matter what obstacles may lay in his path, Micolash always, eventually, found his way into your bed.

He preferred to lay behind you, and spoon you, and so that is where he maneuvered himself to be. Behind you, tugging you closer to him, as if even a breath apart from you was painful. His hands seemed jittery, you heard his ragged breathing across your neck, and gasped quietly when all of a sudden he had pulled your hips to his, and ground himself against you, so you could feel something hot and hard straining itself in the confines of his trousers. You swore he moaned a little into your ear.

Ah. So that's why he was so jittery. Had he walked all the way to your room, from the library, with that pressing against his trousers? There was probably no one else around at this time, but still.. you felt a tad sorry for him.

Though maybe, perhaps, he'd only developed such an arousal when seeing you laid in bed, hair spread out on the pillow above you like a halo, of sorts. He'd one told you before that seeing you so peaceful, angel-like, did something for him.

You'd ask him later, as right now your mind was a little fried from Micolash's sudden onslaught. His hands were cold, and you yelped a little when with one hand, he aggressively pulled up your nightdress to rest around your hips, and with the other, pull down the neckline of the garment so that your breasts were freed.

You could practically hear his grin of delight. His fingers were icy cold, and thin. Your nipples were quick to pebble as he roughly tugged and twisted them. Breathing became somewhat difficult, hoarse and staggered, as tiny moans were forced from your throat.

One hand stayed on your chest, now massaging gently, while another crept down to squirm it's way between your legs. You sighed into him, then yelped once again, louder this time, as the dastardly man chose to pinch your clit tight between his fingers, just enough until it hurt, before retreating to rub soothing circles around the nub. Your eyes watered a little.

Micolash's own breathing grew more laboured, the sound of you yelping in part pain, part pleasure, was music to his ears. His cock twitched, and he grinded himself against you more feverntly now. You knew he was desperate to ram his cock inside of you, but the subtle affection showed by making sure you were wet and stretched enough first was not gone unnoticed by you.

The fingers circling your clit scampered away, finding your drooling entrance, and eagerly plunge themselves inside of you, immediately curling against the spot that just made you melt. Micolash's fingers were so long, they reached all the good spots inside you- and you had to bite the pillow the keep your wanton moans from escaping. These walls were thin, afterall. And if anyone were to find out that a young, unmarried woman of your status was frolicking about in bed late at night with a man, most would not look too favourably upon you. Micolash giggled childishly behind you. Smug bastard.

He was your smug bastard though.

Eventually, whilst you couldn't lie that his fingers were tremendous inside of you, you grew hungry for Micolash's cock instead, letting him know by pressing your bum backwards and roughly rubbing against his crotch. He whined against your ear, and you whined back.

This time, you both were frantically pulling clothes apart. Both of your hands clashed as they tried to be the ones to tug down Micolash's trousers to finally free his cock. You felt the heat of it against your thigh.

Micolash may have been thin and wry, but he was still bigger than you. He manhandled your leg upwards, holding you with one hand under your knee, your tiny cunt finally exposed to him. It was a sight that always made him shiver. Tomorrow, has going to eat your pussy like it had never been eaten before. For now, Micolash could not bare to be apart from you any longer. He angled himself, them thrusted forward, giving you no time to adjust to how lengthy his cock was as he rapidly plunged in and out of your wet heat.

Micolash was always loud during sex, grunting and moaning into your ear- you'd told him not to, that people would talk. He didn't care, of course he didn't. You instead chose to bite the pillow to stop wanton moans erupting from your throat. Even in such a quick and ruthless session, there was a tenderness in the way he held you, in the way he rubbed tight circles around your clit with his free hand. You were both terribly in love with eachother, and there were no words needed to express such affections.

Soon, you both climaxed. Micolash's thrusts stuttering as your rhythmically clenching walls drained him of every last drop of cum he had. You squirmed in his arms as your own orgasm overtook you, washing over you, filling your senses to the brim, much like his cock in your pussy. Sweating and panting, both of you snuggled nearer eachother. Micloash gently pulled out of you, you felt his cum dribble out of your cunt, but you were too tired now to clean it up.

Micolash buried his face in your hair, tugging your small hands into his larger one's, and rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. Once again, no words were needed. Why use words to tell one another things you both already knew?

Micolash knew you loved him. And you know that he loved you, too.