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my-lunadea-universe · 2 years ago

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The Conquest: Chapter 3 Preview!

Chapter 3: preview. Hello! Long time no see! I am deeply sorry. I wish I had a more interested excuse but I am a nurse and this summer has been crazy filled with work at the hospital. I will start posting regularly again but the chapter I am writing is getting crazy long so meanwhile here it is a preview for said next chapter. Thank you so much for your understanding 😭.

“I need to hear it, one more time”. Visenya knew she was being obnoxious but there was not much time left alone. She needed to know what to look for on the Citadel. It was difficult to decide where to start, they had a thousand dreams to choose from. But Aegon was sure of one thing. Something was coming for them and he was terrified of it.

“ Ēdan dreamt hen ziry gō. Issa morghon, mandia. Morghon. Nyke kivigon īles. Lykemagon surrounding ziry, daorun ondoso lykemagon se suvion. Se ziry dōrī keliton. Nyke kivigon ñuha jorrāelagon, nyke might emagon issare asleep syt iā tubis yn ziry felt iā. Konīr sia, pōnta jūndan rȳ nyke lēda pōja corpse-like laesi. Yn pār mirros, mirros nyke daor: vala lēda se bartos hen zokla, iā zaldrīzes vēttan hen wool se iā perzys isse se shape hen iā ābra. Māzis hen isse se hen lopor se ōrbar, ondoso iā ānogrosa nehure qēlos. S e suvion. Se vēzos māstan arlī. Targārien ānogar conquered se bantis”.

(I had dreamt of it before. It is death, sister. Death. I swear it was. Silence surrounding it, nothing by silence and ice. And it never ended. I swear my love, I might have been asleep for a day but it felt a lifetime. There were bodies everywhere, they looked at me with their corpse-like eyes. But then something else, something I cannot explain: a man with the head of a wolf, a dragon made of wool and a flame in the shape of a woman. Coming out in the midst of salt and smoke, marked by a bleeding star.The ice melted. The sun came back. Targaryen blood conquered the night). Visenya had shivers down her spine every time she heard it. And yet it hardly made sense. “Got it, mandia?” (sister). As much as she loved him, she had to admit: Aegon could be a little shit sometimes. “Of course I got it. It can not possibly be that hard to find an answer at the Citadel. I mean, how many prophecies do you think there are about a chosen one defeating the greatest evil there is?”. Aegon smiled. They both did for a moment. How strange but fitting for them it was to find joy in such a crucial moment.

Oldtown was the biggest city Visenya had ever seen in her life. To be fair she had only seen Dragonstone and Driftmark before but it still stands. It was busy, you could see the constant movement of people. Visenya felt a sting of jealousy, those worms could enjoy all of these riches and beauties but they had to settle on being stuck on an island, a lovely island that she loved but a piece of stone in the middle of the sea at the end of the day. “That’s Lord Hightower. He is a very pious man, devoted to the faith of the Seven” Lord Redwyne had insisted on accompanying them, clearly not trusting them being out and about… especially Visenya. “So he likes fairy tales. Charming” “Mandia, it is their tradition and we are their guests” Aegon sounded concerned. He was much more of a diplomat than she was. “Yes, do not worry, I know how to play the part”. “Lord Redwyne! And the little dragons, what a lovely party of visitors this is”. Lord Hightower was an old man, dressed in simple grey robes, with a simple grey hat and a simple grey beard. He could very well pass as one of the maesters that accompanied him. They seemed an army around him, all dressed the same, boys and men of every age and appearance. Some wore heavy chains filled with metals of every possible colour and shape. It was a worthy but chaste spectacle, it contrasted with the grandiosity of the citadel’s gates. “Lord Hightower, my wife and I are grateful for your welcome and safe passage into the city” Aegon did not smile but he lowered his head in respect. Visenya hated it. Such a small gesture but one of servitude. Unworthy of a dragon. “Lord Aegon, we are delighted to have you and your sister… or your wife, in our beloved Oldtown” Hightower seemed uncomfortable with their choice of words. "Sister and wife. It is not one or the other, my lord”.

Everyone fell silent with Visenya’s words. Just as she liked it. She felt much better without hearing noise and blatant stupidity.

“My wife is right. We are in fact both. We are very fortunate to be able to say so”. What a man Aegon was, as much as Visneya knew he hated being in that situation with every inch of her body, she had him by her side. She will always have him. “I must say, my lord, this is an extraordinary receivement, may Lord Aegon and Lady Visenya meet your companions?”. Redwyne chimed in, definitely trying to ease the building tension. “Of course. This is the archmaester…” Visenya could not care less about those men, she knew enough about them already. It was the great walls behind them that caught all of her attention. The Citadel was a great fortress, not as intimidating as Dragonstone but impressive nevertheless. Two giant sphinxes of green stone, one male, one female, guarded the great door. Immortal monsters guarding the treasure she so desired. She felt like the adventurers of her childhood's stories. The hero fighting great monsters to get their well deserved prize. “Are we going to visit the inside now?” “The inside, my lady?” The archmaester spoke. Visenya felt uneasy with the way he looked at her, not intimidated. Never that. But it was the kind of look every mother warned their daughters about, full of unreciprocated lust that made her want to vomit. “The charms of the Citadel do not end at your door. Do they?” “My sister has a curious nature and she is the scholar out of the three. There is nothing that I wish more as a wedding gift than to give her a look on your marvellous library” What a snake charmer her brother was. Visenya could not help but smile. Their mother had done a wonderful job with his tutoring. “No one, except the maesters can enter the citadel”. “Well, that’s not entirely true. Many high lords have come to enjoy the knowledge behind your walls”. Lord Redwyne seemed to be on their side. Surprisingly, he was proving to be useful. “As you said. High lords. I am sure we both agree this is not the case”. Visenya wanted nothing more than to cut the archmaester’s tongue and shove it down Lord Hightower stupid face. “Do you not consider us worthy of your time?”. Oh how she knew what Aegon meant with that. That calmness that screamed like a threat “I do not know you, my lord” “You will, archmaesters. That should not be a concern” Aegon suddenly seemed ten feet tall and as fearless and threatening as his Balerion. “If it is not possible on this visit. We can come back. Although it would be inconvenient to bother Lord Redwyne again, we might have to come with our dragons. Would that be better?” Silence fell among the welcoming party. Even their hosts seemed uncomfortable at his brother’s proposal.

Moments later they were escorted to the inside of the citadel.

#fanfiction #game of thrones #aegon i targaryen #aegon the conqueror #asoiaf #visenya targaryen #fanfic writing #house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys the conqueror

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daimonclub · 8 months ago

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Christmas thoughts

The universal joy of Christmas is everywhere Christmas Thoughts, reflections, ideas, various opinions and some quotes on Christmas by the World of English and good will English-culture blog I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. Charles Dickens Instead of being a time of unusual behavior, Christmas is perhaps the only time in the year when people can obey their natural impulses and express their true sentiments without feeling self-conscious and, perhaps, foolish. Christmas, in short, is about the only chance a man has to be himself. Francis C. Farley A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year; He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here; Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before, And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for. He is less a selfish creature than at any other time; When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime... Edgar Guest Let Christmas not become a thing Merely of merchant's trafficking, Of tinsel, bell and holly wreath And surface pleasure, but beneath The childish glamour, let us find Nourishment for soul and mind. Let us follow kinder ways Through our teeming human maze, And help the age of peace to come From a Dreamer's martyrdom. Madeline Morse I hear that in many places something has happened to Christmas; that it is changing from a time of merriment and carefree gaiety to a holiday which is filled with tedium; that many people dread the day and the obligation to give Christmas presents is a nightmare to weary, bored souls; that the children of enlightened parents no longer believe in Santa Claus; that all in all, the effort to be happy and have pleasure makes many honest hearts grow dark with despair instead of beaming with good will and cheerfulness. Julia Peterkin If a man called Christmas Day a mere hypocritical excuse for drunkeness and gluttony, that would be false, but it would have a fact hidden in it somewhere. But when Bernard Shaw says that Christmas Day is only a conspiracy kept up by Poulterers and wine merchants from strictly business motives, then he says something which is not so much false as startling and arrestingly foolish. He might as well say that the two sexes were invented by jewellers who wanted to sell wedding rings. G.K. Chesterton The great majority of people will go on observing forms that cannot be explained; they will keep Christmas Day with Christmas gifts and Christmas benedictions; they will continue to do it; and some day suddenly wake up and discover why. G.K. Chesterton

A Christmas candle is a lovely thing We hear the beating of wings over Bethlehem and a light that is not of the sun or of the stars shines in the midnight sky. Let the beauty of the story take away all narrowness, all thought of formal creeds. Let it be remembered as a story that has happened again and again, to men of many different races, that has been expressed through many religions, that has been called by many different names. Time and space and language lay no limitations upon human brotherhood. New York Times, 25 December 1937 Scrooge went to the church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and for, and patted the children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of homes, and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. Charles Dickens I sometimes think we expect too much of Christmas Day. As for me, I like to take my Christmas a little at a time, all through the year. And thus I drift along into the holidays - let them overtake me unexpectedly - waking up some fine morning and suddenly saying to myself: “Why, this is Christmas Day!” David Grayson The universal joy of Christmas is certainly wonderful. We ring the bells when princes are born, or toll a mournful dirge when great men pass away. Nations have their red-letter days, their carnivals and festivals, but once in the year and only once, the whole world stands still to celebrate the advent of a life. Only Jesus of Nazareth claims this world-wide, undying remembrance. You cannot cut Christmas out of the Calendar, nor out of the heart of the world. Anonymous We see Jesus in the manger. We adore Him; we worship Him; we glorify Him. We stand oppressed before such love--a love stronger than death--a love so strong that it did die that we might live. We thank Thee for the sweetness of human love, but how could we ever have dared to think that such love was in the heart of God for us! We look on nature and see Thy beauty and Thy majesty, but we are afraid, for we have sinned. And then we learn that Thou has sent Thy Son, to be bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh; and before such inconceivable love we can only worship and adore. We are so weary of our failures and our slow growth toward Thee. Cleanse us deeply from sin, strengthen our moral purposes. Maltbie Davenport Babcock We therefore welcome our Christmas in December. The "worship of Christ" could not have a better setting than amid the domestic festivities, social forces, and generous and man helping deeds of our merry Christmas-tide. In no more fitting way can we say farewell to the closing year, and All hail! to the new. "Christ is born." We therefore must put off the old man - his moroseness and selfishness, his sadness and despair, his peevishness and fretfulness, his feebleness and decay - and put on the new man, which, after Christ, is created in true joy, large faith, energetic service, lowly duty, devout obedience, and death-daring self-sacrifice. John Clifford If we were to fancy a wholly Christianized world, it would be a world inspired by the spirit of Christmas - a bright, friendly, beneficent, generous, sympathetic, mutually helpful world. A man who is habitually mean, selfish, narrow, is a man without Christmas in his soul. Let us cling to Christmas all the more as a day of the spirit which in every age some souls have believed to be the possible spirit of human society. The earnest faith and untiring endeavor which see in Christmas a forecast are more truly Christian, surely, than the pleasant cynicism of Atheists, etc., which smiles upon it as the festival of a futile hope. Meanwhile we may reflect that from good natured hopelessness to a Christmas world may not be farther than from star dust to a solar system. George William Curtis The lovely legends of the day; the stories and the songs and the half-fairy lore that gather around it; the ancient traditions of dusky woods and mystic rites; the magnificence or simplicity of Christian observance, from the pope in his triple tiara, borne upon his portative throne in gorgeous state to celebrate pontifical high mass at the great altar of St. Peter's, to George Herbert humbly kneeling in his rustic church at Bemerton, or to the bare service in some missionary chapel upon the American frontier; the lighting of Christmas trees and hanging up of Christmas stockings, the profuse giving, the happy family meetings, the dinner, the game, the dance they are all the natural signs and symbols, the flower and fruit, of Christmas. For Christmas is the day of days which declares the universal human consciousness that peace on earth comes only from good will to men. George William Curtis The "first Christmas" was a simple time of beauty and wonder. The birth of Christ was less about celebration than it was about family. Though many today may grow tired of the commercialization of Christmas, in reality it has opened the door for Christ to once again become the focal point of the season, and for family, especially children, to be at the heart of the celebration. Ace Collins Christmas is ... a time to mark our progress through this earthly journey. Every December we can look back and marvel at the designs of God and realize how very little we are in control of the events that shaped the past year. Then, with hearts full, look to the celebration of that silent, holy night, and all its certainty. Because of Christmas, this we know: Christ was born for us. He is love, and the plans he has for us always surpass those of our own. Karen Kingsbury I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round - apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that - as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on their journeys. Charles Dickens More and more people each year are going abroad for Christmas... Fed up with the fact that commercial Christmas starts in October. Fed up with carols. Dreading the arrival of Christmas cards from people they have forgotten to send a card to. Unable to bear yet another family get-together with Auntie Mary puking up in the corner after sampling too much of the punch. You see in the airports the triumphant glitter in the eyes of people who are leaving it all behind, including the hundredth rerun of Miracle on 34th Street. M.C. Beaton Christmas has been a season of mixed interests and meanings, but the very foundation, of course, is its religious significance. No matter what other personal desires or crises we have faced, I've never forgotten that this is the time to celebrate the birth of the Baby Jesus, and the impact of this event on the history of the world. Jimmy Carter On Christmas Eve, down there in Texas, we always went to the church first for the lovely service, and then to the town square with its breath-taking, brilliantly lighted Christmas tree, where there were little gifts for the children. And when we woke up in the morning, there was another Christmas tree which had appeared "miraculously" as we slept; the whole family gathered around it, and again we sensed the spirit of love running through the circle. There were gifts for everyone - but not too much! How grateful I am for that now! The real gift was the love we had for one another and the sheer joy of just being together. Dale Evans The herald angels are singing still, and we hear their "Peace on earth, good will to men," once more, as we have often done. What can we do but answer back in glad strains: "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace"? It is His presence that fills our homes with mirth and song. If he will come again, turning life's water into wine, touching our sick that they may be healed, cleansing, pardoning, blessing us all- as He will if we make room for Him - then, indeed, we must be glad. Christian at Work Shorn, however, as it is, of its ancient and festive honours, Christmas is still a period of delightful excitement in England. It is gratifying to see that home-feeling completely aroused which seems to hold so powerful a place in every English bosom. The preparations making on every side for the social board that is again to unite friends and kindred; the presents of good cheer passing and repassing, those tokens of regard, and quickeners of kind feelings; the evergreens distributed about houses and churches, emblems of peace and gladness; all these have the most pleasing effect in producing fond associations, and kindling benevolent sympathies. Washington Irving

Marry Christmas with our thoughts And when we give each other Christmas gifts in His name, let us remember that He has given us the sun and the moon and the stars, and the earth with its forests and mountains and oceans - and all that lives and move upon them. He has given us all green things and everything that blossoms and bears fruit and all that we quarrel about and all that we have misused - and to save us from our foolishness, from all our sins, He came down to earth and gave us Himself. Sigrid Undset I am sorry to have to introduce the subject of Christmas into these articles. It is an indecent subject; a cruel, gluttonous subject; a drunken, disorderly subject; a wasteful, disastrous, subject; a wicked, cadging, lying, filthy, blashphemous, and demoralizing subject. Christmas is forced on a reluctant and disgusted nation by the shopkeepers and the press: on its own merits it would wither and shrivel in the fiery breath of universal hatred; and any one who looked back to it would be turned into a pillar of greasy sausages. George Bernard Shaw After dinner, eaten, let it be confessed, with more haste and less accompaniment of talk than usual, the parlour doors were opened, and there stood the Christmas tree in a glow of light, its wonderful branches laden with all manner of strange fruits not to be found in the botanies. The wild shouts, the merry laughter, the cries of delight as one coveted fruit after another dropped into long-expectant arms still linger in my ears now that the little tapers are burnt out, the boughs left bare, and the actors in the perennial drama are fast asleep, with new and strange bedfellows selected from the spoils of the night. Cradled between a delightful memory and a blissful anticipation, who does not envy them? Hamilton Wright Mabie There is something about Christmas that requires a rug rat. Little kids make Christmas fun. I wonder if could rent one for the holidays. When I was tiny we would buy a real tree and stay up late drinking hot chocolate and finding just the right place for the special decorations. It seems like my parents gave up the magic when I figured out the Santa lie. Maybe I shouldn't have told them I knew where the presents really came from. It broke their hearts. Laurie Halse Anderson There is a time and a season for all things, as we are told, and the time and the season to decorate our firesides and homes is at Yuletide, when with holly branch and mistletoe we make our Christmas green; with flowers we make it bright and fragrant; with presents we make it bountiful, and with the spirit of peace on earth, goodwill toward men, we make life worth living. Lee James Christmas Gift Suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect. Oren Arnold https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpjlBzvesOk Read also: Christmas quotes ; 60 great Christmas quotes ; Christmas tree origin and quotes ; Christmas markets in England ; Christmas markets in America ; Christmas markets in Italy and Germany ; Christmas short stories ; Traditional Christmas Carols ; Ella Gray A Christmas story ; Christmas jokes ; Christmas cracker jokes ; Christmas food ; Christmas thoughts ; Christmas story ; Christmas in Italy ; Christmas holidays ; Christmas songs ; Christmas poems ; An Essasy on Christmas by Chesterton ; Read the full article

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theharshestaddiction · 2 years ago

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it's been 4 years now apparently. i don't think I really loved him, I was just vulnerable and young.

i dont know how to explain what it is like after being groomed. it is painful to live with this trauma. i find that my own relationships sometimes cant feel as fulfilling because im not used to having such a consistent relationship. my boyfriend is a constant point of joy and affection my life. i self sabotage to try and recreate what it is like to be groomed and I cant. nothing feels the same as when he did it, or when she did. to be groomed by a teacher is an entirely different experience. when she was older it felt more like a high school thing, she was freshly graduated, but with him he was grown. he saw something in me even though I'm so young, of course I felt special. of course I felt special. it gets harder to remember exactly what happened a lot of the time, I think I am blocking it all out now. i spend everyday on the bus dreaming of writing a book or screenplay that can represent how this feels, but this pain cannot be put into words. i am loved and cared for by nearly everyone I know now, but the pain seems so attractive.

if i were to create a film or book about it I wouldnt want the actor to show his face. i think it would represent how I never put an identity to his name. i never ever made him a real person, here or in real life. my ex girlfriend might remember, but I doubt it. it would be all hands and movements, maybe some shots of his face up close. but it would be just like how it feels. bits and pieces, while I give my whole body and soul.

i always feel like someones gonna go through my blogs if im ever killed or if i die, so i think I should clarify. he never touched me inappropriately, he never raped or assaulted me. he complimented, encouraged and was personal with me. i don't know if he meant to groom me, I dont know what his intention was. i don't know why I was his favorite. i wish i did so i could swallow this all down.

i rarely write or talk about this because it hurts so much, but its been getting bad again. not processing this properly has been bad for me. i think about it on the bus all the time. for at least an hour a day I reminisce on what I think is gone. there was nothing ever there in the first place. i could talk about it endlessly and still say nothing, still describe nothing. there is a cork in my throat and I cant say words. why cant I admit it to myself? why do I still doubt him?

i know he was a good man. i want to know that, at least. the warmth I felt when he was hurting me was unlike anything I have known. like an absent part in my heart had been filled. probably because I was so angry with my parents at the time. i feel like I'm giving away too much. if I'm dead and youre reading this please don't go after him. i don't love him, I wish I never met him. he still works in schools I think. i have been searching for his social media for years, but I am unable to find it. there is nothing on him. no linked in or anything. its weird. his name is too common.

i find that i have a strange attraction to older men now. or maybe just one. pedro pascal is attractive to me, but i dont think thats because of this. hes just attractive. anyhow, I find that i read a lot of fanfiction with age gap relationships. it isn't to like, get me off or anything dumb. i just . i want to feel that way again. i want to feel so far beneath someone that when they lift me up an inch it feels like the first breath I've taken in years.

i am complacent in my own pain.

i wish he had touched me sometimes. i wonder what his bed may have felt like, when im alone and angry. i get mad that he probably has a girlfriend, and that hes forgotten about me by now. i know he only saw me last a year ago but hes probably had a hundred students since my class.i wish he would think about me, or email me. i wish I would wake up to a notification and see his name asking how I am. i just want him to see that I'm doing well in school, just like he remembers. i feel like he would care that I didn't give up. i feel like hes the only one who ever made me feel like my writing was really worth something. i dont let anyone read my stuff anymore unless its for school. no one would compliment it like he did, and even if they could it wouldnt be from him so what does it reall matter.

i remember when i learned he didnt have a girlfriend. i remember trying not to smile, thinking it could be me. i was 14, maybe. she was allergic to shellfish and he had bought her a dinner with shellfish in it, but I don't think thats why they broke up. maybe she found out that he's kind of a loser.

i just wish love hadnt been so ruined for me. it feels like my heart has been beaten down in everyway possible now. sexually, and emotionally.

i hate knowing that this is a shared pain. i hate knowing im not the only one. i hate that im letting go of this in some stupid post on a blog i made for him. i hate that there were others, i hate that there will be others. i should have been the only one for him. i should be the one with him and i should be killing him and hurting him the way he hurts me even now.

at the end of that movie she kills the man, the one with no face. i don't know anything else about the plot, but she stabs him to death in his kitchen.

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likemosaic · 10 months ago

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we will find time. the exarch smiles and says nothing in response. he will be a good sport. he will not take her joy from her. instead, he will leave it to her keeping until the last possible moment, until he has no choice. he hopes they will remain together, dearly so; he's already musing on various plans, all of them requiring him to fight until the last moment to remain at her side, to remain among her found family.

but he won't lie about their chances, grim as they are. making promises that cannot be kept will only make things worse.

"you could never be inadequate!" g'raha reassures, eyes wide, his good hand touching her arm without thinking. he misreads her blush as pure embarrassment and is overcome with the urge to comfort her. "please, i beg you, don't speak of yourself so. you are everything. being in your company is the most comfortable i have been in many years." his ears flicker. he can't imagine anything about her ever being unpleasant. "it was not my intent to--to ruin things, by being prudish. i merely wanted to, ah, clear the air and clarify my expectations. to forewarn you, even. i...could not bear to disappoint you. but. i'm game if you are." a pause. "for a bath! a bath." still a nervous tia at heart.

surprise flickers in his eyes. of all the differences between one altansarnai and the next, a lack of romantic pursuits wasn't one on the exarch's list. there is no rule about secrecy he must follow, necessarily--he had kept the truth of the timeline to himself at first, in order to minimize confusion or disbelief, and thus curb the amount of time needed to avert the calamities. urianger had been invaluable for that. but now that the cat is out of the bag (or the tower), he supposes he can share more about the alta he had admired in his time--the one who had lived gloriously, had a happy child with the man she had once fought against, and died in the name of righteousness. before he had even awoken, she had been heroic to her last, and he has tried to follow her example in every respect.

all of that to say, he has difficulty believing that alta does not fend off those same suitors, regardless of timeline. even as the exarch, he has had a few who were enchanted with the mystery of the man under the hood--a few who were turned away, gently but firmly. there has never been time for frivolity, not with the magnitude of his duty. perhaps it is the same for alta?

"the story of you is a rather long tale," he says, a bit more comfortable at the thought of explaining something (in another life, he might have been better off working at the studium as a lecturer), "and one i may need to preface with some questions about your time. but it is one i will gladly tell, once we're settled in." the exarch is wise enough to know that by forestalling it, he'll have something to talk about, something to distract her while they sit in water.

the exarch pulls his hand away from alta and rests it against the red sash, the one that serves as a sleeve for his crystallized arm. both a nervous gesture and a hesitancy. he's grateful for the noise of the tub filling, to cover any unsure silence. "allow me to get in first, if you like," he offers, despite the fact that he's the one frightened of showing her his body, "and i will face away so you may undress. then you can heal what you wish. i...beg you not to be alarmed. it is not very painful, but it can be...grotesque to look at." another long pause in which g'raha struggles to meet her eye, as if the state of his body is a personal failing, a great shame. then he turns away from her, facing the bath, pulling slowly at the sash and folding it neatly, to be placed aside on the counter. turning away, doesn't hide his burning blush, which has spread to the back of his neck, but it does expose the way the crystal goes up his arm an alarming amount--the way it nearly claws at his neck and jaw, as if to suffocate him.

The warm, fond tone of his voice makes her heart feel light for the first time in - ... what feels like an eon. She lets the door slowly swing closed as she moved away, curiosity obvious on her features as she took in her surroundings. Sometimes an adventure involved malms and malms of travel, and sometimes ... an adventure was trying to figure out how one would even begin to start a faucet in a foreign place. Her tail curled behind her, radiating the silly little grin that had taken over her lips when she heard him speak, the spines on the very tip nearly skimming the cold tile as she explored the room.

Alta never would have expected for the Crystarium to evolve similar methods of warming their water. In all honestly, it was something completely beyond her, just as fascinating as it was incomprehensible. She knew that G'raha could probably go on about how he had structured it all, the skill and breadth of his knowledge well and truly without limits. The city could not have been founded by a better man, nor a better scholar, she thought.

"Maybe," she puts forth, "when we return - ... I'm sure we could find time to visit them."

After - ... everything. After she had returned to the source. After - ... he, too, returned, in whatever form that may take, as a crystalline Exarch or as a sharp-eyed archer. He deserved at least that much, after all he had done, after all the time he spent keeping this shard alive and thriving.

"We will find time," she amended, nodding to herself. There would be no maybe. Alta hummed, a light, considering sound, reaching for the stone-clad wash basin and the gilded spouts that jutted out from the wall. She grasped one of the handles, giving it a rougher pull than it truly needed: with ease, water began to gush forth from the spigot. She leaned into the basin to place the stopper, his words nearly drowned under the sound of the tub beginning to fill.

When she turned, it was just in time to see him avert his gaze. She took a cautious step, and then another, coming to lean against the counter beside him - both to offer support and to ensure she could hear his every word.

The ones G'raha spoke were not kind to himself. It was as if he were digging his knuckles into his eyes to rid himself of a radiance that didn't exist, shielding himself from even the chance that the sun could be blinding. Her eyebrows drew together as he continued, only vaguely wrapping her hand around the towel he offered her. Confusion was writ plain on her features as he soldiered forth, an understanding only coming to be as his face flushed and his ears pressed into his skull.

"I - ... I'm sorry," she confessed, her own cheeks beginning to flood with warmth. "I hadn't - ... I didn't consider it in that way. It has been a long day - ... a long... while," Alta confessed, "and I just - ... my healing is not always the most pleasant, I've been told. I thought a bath would do us both good, given our - ... current states. I had no intent to make you question - ... or make you uncomfortable."

How many times had she aided Y'shtola into her own bath as they healed aside each other in Rhalgar's Reach? How often had she been tasked with assisting a new mother in Gridania, or a sickly elder when they came to the conjury guild for assistance? She had not seen her suggestion as anything but an extension of her healing abilities, and she all at once felt as if she were daft.

"G'raha," she spoke quietly, "I could never think that of you - ... and hadn't even considered that you would. You speak so unkindly of yourself - see yourself in a way I cannot. To be true," she attempted, her face feeling as if it were positively rolanberry red, "whatever you must have read in Edmont's narrative - ... is likely - ... untrue, here. In this timeline."

She hadn't laid with another since the Count's son, and hadn't even considered the concept of nudity aside another to be indicative of such actions since then. To disrobe her friend and tend his wounds had not phased her as inappropriate, or absurd, or - any manner of things. It simply was.

(Mayhaps she was not quite as far removed from the Steppe as she once believed.)

"Although - ... I am now curious," she said, waving her hand as if to rid the heaviness from the air. Alta peeked over at the basin, both to ensure it didn't overflow and to let her face cool off just a smidge. "What kinds of - ... suitors that Edmont spoke of. I hadn't thought - ..."

In another time, in another place - ... what had her life looked like, before the Black Rose? What had G'raha seen - what changes had Edmont written of?

"You speak of your own inadequacies," she said, speaking carefully as to not stumble over the last word, "as if - ... you are less than I am. As if I don't have them, too."

#aurouze #shadowbringers spoilers #i love themmmm so muchhhhhhh #file : g'raha tia.#ic : g'raha tia.

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galaxiefan · 2 years ago

Text

《Dottore x innocent!puppet reader》 Part 3

《prepare yourselves....for the angst!~♡》

***

(y/n) arrives at her and her brother's room, a smile on her face. Scaramouche has been waiting for her to come back for quite some time now, and was beginning to get worried for her. "hi big brother!" she says as she opens the bedroom door.

He was waiting for her, and he immediately speaks when (y/n) enters the room, with a sense of love and kindness, a sense of care and concern. He wants to make sure that she is okay, and it was clear he wasn't able to rest until he saw her again. He was very relieved to actually see her, and as she opens the door, he smiles at her with a sense of genuine warmth to his eyes."(y/n)! I'm so glad to see you! you were away for a long time.." He says, as he gives her a soft and gentle hug.

Scaramouche was very worried for his sister. He didn't know what the doctor did to her, and she stayed almost all day with that man. He was beginning to think something bad had happened to her.

He was worried that Dottore may have made her cry. That he may have hurt her emotionally, or worse, he was afraid that Dottore may have even hurt her physically. But he was so relieved to see that she was smiling and happy, as she went to hug him. And to have her in his arms again filled him with a deep sense of joy and peace. He felt so happy to be brought back from a dark place. He was afraid, but he couldn't help but feel this happiness. He had missed her.

"Big brother! I did so many fun things today! you won't even believe it!" she seems happy...that's good...

He sighs, and he lets her go from the hug, looking at her with kindness and warmth in his eyes. Scaramouche speaks to her with kindness and gentleness to his voice. He speaks to her like she is the most important person in his entire world, and he cannot help but feel so much joy to see her back. He was so worried, but seeing her happy and smiling made him so happy. His heart was filled with so much joy. "Then I would love for you to tell me all about it."

"Ok,ok!...first, me and the doctor went to the lab together, and then, he help to fix my arm! he was sooo quick! a-and then! as a thank you, I showed him my mechanics! he was so happy! and we had so much fun together!.." (y/n) told Scaramouche...wait....did she say...she..showed him her mechanics?...

Scaramouche stares at her, and he speaks with confusion in his voice. He sounds both intrigued and surprised, as he looks at her with curiosity and wonder. "You showed him your mechanics? What do you mean by that?" He says, as he continues to look at her with interest, and with his heart racing. He was wondering what it could mean.

"Oh, I let him see my insides! He said that it would help his research! so I showed him my heart...and my lungs...and all the things! it tickled when he touched my heart, and it also sparkled! It was sooo pretty!.." she explained to Scaramouche what she did with the doctor.....did she just say....he touched her heart?...and....oh.

Scaramouche stares at her again, and his heart is racing even faster now. He's never had so much emotion fill his heart in his whole life, and he cannot help but feel all those emotions at once. He's feeling so many things at once right now... Love, joy, surprise, happiness, and sadness. It's all so much. His heart is racing and he struggles to breath. "Y-you... You let him touch your heart?"

"Yep! But he was reeaaly careful with it though...just like you are big brother!.." (y/n) said. the thought of the doctor messing around with her delicate puppet inert workings....

Scaramouche's emotions are in full force now. He can't believe what he just heard. He is both angry and sad to hear this, and he is feeling a certain hatred. His heart is racing as his mind cannot believe what he has heard. He feels an urge to protect and to defend her. He doesn't want to hear it anymore, but he cannot help but ask one more question "Why?!" He asks furiously, and his voice is stern. It's full of anger, and a certain sadness, and he cannot help but feel this way.

(y/n) was surprised by his reaction. Why was he angry?...it was fun...she thought. "b-because i-i wanted to h-help him....he is so nice to me too..."

Scaramouche was angry, but now he was also sad. Now he was also confused, and he has no idea what to think now. And he hates that. "You wanted to help him?" He asks with a stern, almost angry voice. He can't hide the sadness and concern in his voice now, as he looks at her with anger and fear filling his eyes. "Did he tell you to say that? Did he say you had to help him? Did he do this to you? Did he tell you to do all this?"

"N-no!...he j-just asked me to help...b-but I did it because i w-wanted to..." She spoke. she never seen her brother act like this before, why was he so angry?

Scaramouche looks at her, and he is filled with sadness and anger and concern. He is upset that she was made to do this. He is angry that she did it so willingly. How could he ever trust the doctor again? His mind is now overwhelmed with all those feelings, and he continues to look at her with anger and sadness filling his eyes. "What were you thinking?! You should know better than to give him your trust!" He says, as his voice gets louder.

She was now very confused. "b-but he was nice to me!....he...he helped to fix my arm too!.....I trust him..." (y/n) couldn't understand how a man that treated her so kindly could be bad.

"You trust him!!?" Scaramouche shouts at her, as he looks at her with complete horror. His voice grows loud, as he continues to speak to her. "What are you thinking!? He could do anything! You could have gotten hurt, worse than you have ever felt before!" He shouts, as he tries to make his point clear, and he cannot help but feel so much fear and shock at what she has done. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, but he knew one thing for sure: he has to protect her.

"But...he is a good guy!...and he was very c-careful too..." She was trying to tell him that the doctor didn't hurt her.

Scaramouche looks at her, and after taking a second to collect himself, he speaks to her in a more calm, yet still stern tone. He speaks in a much sadder, and quieter voice, however. His heart feels heavy in his chest, as he speaks to her. He cannot bring himself to shout at her, and so he instead speaks to her in a more gentle tone. "(y/n)...I understand you have had the best of intentions. And I can see that you have been trying to help the doctor. But you cannot just trust someone that easily"

"But...he didn't hurt me...he helped me too....why can't I trust him?..." She just couldn't understand.

Scaramouche sighs. "Because not everyone is what they say they are. This world is a dangerous place. We cannot be sure we can trust someone just from their words. The doctor is a very clever man, and a very dangerous one. We cannot allow him to take advantage of you like he has, (y/n)"

"But he didn't!....he's my friend....he was happy to help me too.....I....just...he is not bad!" The doctor has been so nice and good to her all this time, she just can't believe the man that smiled so warmly at her that morning is evil, or bad.

"He may seem nice to you, and he may have helped you, but he...he is a bad man...he has done bad things. And I can't let you be near him anymore. I wouldn't be so angry about this if it was someone else. But the fact that it's him makes me feel..." He doesn't finish his sentence. He can't say how he feels about the doctor, as he feels that his anger is still too much. He doesn't want to upset (y/n) any further, and so he doesn't say anything.

"Then...it sounds like you just don't like him!...he is good! i saw it!....he..." She tried to defend the doctor. He is not bad in her eyes, he can never be...

"I don't like him. You are right." He says bluntly, and his anger and sadness is clear in his voice."I do not trust him. I cannot trust him. I cannot be certain of his intentions, and I cannot trust that he has any good intentions. I do not know what he might do to you, and it scares me because of what he has already done" He says, his voice still shaking with anger and sadness. He can't help but continue to feel this way, he wants to protect her.

"He didn't do anything bad!...i..i was the one that let him touch them! he was just looking, nothing else!....he...he is a good a-and g-gentle doctor....." she just, too kind to comprehend it.

"He is anything BUT gentle! He does not care for you (y/n), he only cares about himself. He only cares that he is successful!" He shouts, he is so angry now. His anger is growing, and he cannot help it."You cannot trust him!" He shouts, as he speaks with anger and hatred in his voice. He can hardly believe she has fallen for his act, and he cannot believe he is unable to make her understand how evil he is.

"That's a lie! He- he is very gentle with me! And he cares for me too!..." (y/n) was starting to cry a little, at the same time she was angry that her brother is accusing such a good man in her eyes, of being so evil...is just...not true...

"You believe him over me? Do you truly put his words over your own brother!?" He shouts again in anger. "How can you be so foolish!? He does not care about you!" He shouts again, and he is full of anger at this point. The anger he feels towards the doctor is clear in his voice, and he cannot bring himself to calm down at this point.

(y/n) just...cries now....and runs out of the room.....she is sad...

Scaramouche looks after her as she runs out of the room, and his heart breaks... He is both angry at the situation, and upset that he couldn't stop the crying. He feels a certain sadness and sympathy wash over him. Perhaps he was too harsh on her. He hates seeing her cry like this... So he decided to take a deep breath as he tries to calm himself down. He didn't want to shout at her any more. He wanted her to come back, and he didn't want her to hate him... So he takes a deep breath, and he waits for her to return.

(y/n) was just...running through the the corridor....to the last place she felt safe and loved....the lab. She opened the door and runs inside, it was dark. The lights were out, only the small lights of the machines shine on the darkness. She goes to a corner of the room...and cries. Her small figure curling up on herself, her head hidden on her legs, as she cries alone in the darkness...

While she was away Scaramouche took a deep breath, and he tried to calm himself down... But then...he felt fear, and then guilt come washing over him. He did not want to upset her like that... He wanted to protect her... And now she was crying. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he couldn't help but feel so much pain in his chest."What have I done to my dear sister...?" He says, as he takes a deep breath, and he speaks to himself, with guilt and pain in his voice.

The Doctor was in his room. He was getting ready to sleep for the night, when he heard a small cry coming from somewhere else. He heard it again, and again...something was wrong. He opens his bedroom door, going into the hallway to find the source of the sound. Dottore stops in front of his lab....it was coming from there. He carefully opens the door...

The lab was dark, with only the small light from the machines allowing him to see into the room. It was quiet, and it took him a moment to realize that the crying was coming from inside the room. He entered the room, and as he did so he heard the crying get louder, as the sound reached his ears. The crying was coming from inside a corner of the room, as he approached it he could see....(y/n), curled up into herself. She looked so upset. Her cry was soft, and she had tears in her eyes.

The doctor approached her, and he saw her crying. And at this sight his heart breaks. He approaches her, as he cannot help but feel sympathy and pain for her "(y/n)..." He says to her softly. He wants to help her, and he wants to comfort her... He wants to wipe away those tears and make her feel better right this instant. He looks at the little puppet with sadness and concern as he speaks to her, not quite able to figure out what to say. His heart hurts to see her like this.

She slowly revealed her face. Her eyes were full of tears, her lips were quivering as she cried.

The doctor looks down at her. Her tears fill him up with an overwhelming sympathy, and he can't stand to see her like this. He cannot help but take her into his arms, as he hugs (y/n) and holds her close to himself. "Oh dear..." He says, as he holds her close. And he can't help but hug her, as he feels such a strong sympathy come from her tears and sadness, and the doctor's heart breaks for her. "Oh dear, oh dear..."

She hugs him tightly, the doctor's presence bringing her comfort. (y/n) was very upset.

The doctor hugs her back, and he feels sympathy and pain fill his heart. Perhaps it is the feeling of empathy, or perhaps it is pity that he feels, but whatever it is the doctor's heart aches and tears fill his eyes. He can't stand to see her like this. And so he continues to hold her in his arms. "Oh dear, oh dear... It's alright... It's alright. It's alright...." He says, as he tries to comfort her. He wants (y/n) to be able to tell him what happened, but he also does not want to force her.

Seeing poor little (y/n) like this was just...unbearable...what was so bad that made her cry like this?...

The doctor looks down at her. He wants to comfort her. But he also wants to know what's bothering her. "(y/n)...." He says softly, and he looks at her with sympathetic eyes."Tell me what is wrong. Who has hurt you? Why are you crying?" He asks, and he looks at her with eyes that are full of concern and kindness for her.

She looks up at Dottore, tears flowing down her cheeks, as she speaks in a crying and shaky voice. "m-my brother...h-he...he..."

The doctor looks down at her, looking at her with sadness and pity. He feels hurt and anger at her brother, for what he did to her. He keeps holding onto the small puppet, and he looks at her with kindness in his eyes. "He hurt you? In what way?" He asks, feeling anger and sadness fill his heart when she said Scaramouche had hurt her.

"H-he...he s-said...that...y-you were a b-bad guy...a-and...that i s-shouldn't trust y-you....." (y/n) was crying in his lap on the floor of the lab.

The doctor is silent, and he lets out a soft sigh. The emotions filling him are complex and overwhelming, he can't help but feel sad and angry. He tries to contain those negative feelings, as he looks down at her in sadness. He wants to comfort her, and he wants to wipe her tears away... "Do you believe him?" He asks her, as he looks down at her. "Are you scared of me, (y/n)?" He says, and he looks at her kind and sympathetic look in her eyes.

"N-no!....h-hes lying!...he...h-he...." poor (y/n)....she was trying so hard to explain, but her emotions were a mess.

Tears fill his eyes....he feels so sorry for her, and so many emotions fill his heart, anger towards his brother, and pain and sadness for her. He couldn't help but look at her with such kindness and sympathy, and he speaks with great sadness and pain in his voice. "Oh dear.... he lied? He lied to you? So, he lied about me?" He asks, and he looks at her with great pain and sadness in his voice. He feels so sorry for her right now.

"Y-yes! b-because....y-you are n-not bad!.....you....y-you are g-gentle..a-and kind...and....and h-hes lying!...." She says with tears falling down her delicate face.

Tears fill his eyes again, and he looks at her with kind eyes that are full of sadness. He still can't help but feel angry at her brother for "lying" to her, but he feels much less angry now then he did before. "You really think that? You really think that I am gentle, and kind?" He asks, and he looks at her with gentle eyes that are full of kindness and concern for her. He wants to make her feel better. He wants to comfort her.

"Y-you are!...y-you fixed m-my arm....a-and you were j-just...so gentle w-with my h-heart too!.......he's lying.....you are a very g-good guy!..." she speaks, as she defended the doctor.

Tears fill his eyes, once more, as an overwhelming sadness washes over his body. She... She genuinely believes that he is good, that he is kind. His mind gets filled up with thoughts... His eyes fill up with tears, as he can scarcely believe what she is saying. He looks at her with so much kindness and sympathy for the little puppet right now. "My dear.... you are so...kind to me..." He says through tears, as he cannot help but hug her and hold her still. He cannot believe that he deserves such kind words from her.

"I-its true!...i-i....i k-know it its..." she cries, hugging Dottore tightly.

Tears fill his eyes once more, as he hugs her back tightly. He cannot help but cry, and he feels so much pain and emotion fill his heart right now. Her words touch his heart, and they make his heart hurt a little bit in that moment. He feels such sadness and kindess for her... He cannot bear to hear her crying like this, he would do anything to make her feel better. "Oh darling..." He says...his words sound a little bit broken, as he hugs her still.

She feels a little better in his embrace, she is so small compared to him. she feels safe, as she tugs on his shirt. (y/n) is so fragile...so precious...

Dottore looks down at her, and his heart breaks even further. He wants to protect her, and he can't help but feel so much care and sympathy for her... She is so fragile, so precious, and he cannot believe that she would speak about him so kindly. She seems to have warmed up to him, and there are so many emotions that wash over him right now, so many thoughts flooding his mind...He is so overwhelmed with emotions. He cannot help but feel both protective, and loving.

His embrace feels warm, so safe, she can't help but hug the doctor closer.

He gives her a soft smile, and he whispers to her, in the softest and gentlest way "It's alright dear..." He is so glad that he was able to console her, and he can't help but feel sad that she had to come through something so terrible. He is happy that he can be there to comfort her, and he looks down at her with such care and sympathy in his eyes.He cannot believe that she would think of him so kindly... But he is glad. He is so, so glad...

The sad puppet started to calm down a little. The warm embrace of the doctor soothing her softly.

Tears continue to fill his eyes, but they are softer now. He feels sad for her, but it's not a painful sadness any longer. They are like that of a caring grandfather now, and he can't help but feel the kindness in his heart for her. It feels wonderful to be able to make her a little bit better. To see her smile... His heart feels warm, so very warm...He smiles softly at her, through his tears, and when he hears her calming down a little he starts to calm down too. It is the sweetest feeling in the world.

Her small heart is slowly beginning to calm down. She is still hugging him, she feels safe and cared for in his arms...

He smiles, and he hugs her back. His heart fills up with love towards her, and he strokes her hair gently with one hand. He hugs her tightly, and he gently caresses her hair with his other hand. He looks at her, his eyes filled with care and kindness as he feels such a soft and warm feeling inside of his heart. He feels like he finally made her happy after all, and it fills up with the nicest feeling. "Oh my dear..." He says in the softest voice imaginable, and he looks at her with soft eyes that are filled with warmth.

T-thank you.....S-sir Dottore..." (y/n) says with a soft and small voice. Despite her pain and sadness, she thanks him, feeling loved by the doctor.

He smiles at her, as tears fill up his eyes a little bit again. She is really thanking him? For what little he could do for her? But he is so happy. His heart feels warm, and his eyes fill up with tears, as he feels such an overwhelming emotion of love and care rush through his chest."(y/n)..." He says softly, his voice filled with warmth as he strokes her hair with one hand. He keeps his other hand on her back. He is so happy now.

She seems a little better. There are tears stains on her cheeks, but they stopped falling from her eyes now.

(y/n) was laying on his chest. She looks up a little, a small strand of the doctors blue hair was within her reach. She started to play with it gently, it distracted her a little. She liked his blue hair...

He looks down at her, with a soft smile on his face. She is playing with his hair, and he notices it, as a small smile forms on his face. He is happy, he wants to make her even happier. He hugs her a little tighter, as he keeps looking down at her with kindness in his eyes. "Do you like my blue hair?" He asks, looking at her with kindness in his voice, and he smiles at her. He wants to see her smile more, maybe she will like his blue hair?

"Ya.....it's....fluffy...." (y/n) says slowly and softly, now getting a little sleepy.

He smiles even larger at this, as his heart fills up with so much kindness and love for her. He is so glad to hear her say something like this. And she likes his hair? His hair is so important to him. He smiles even wider now, and he speaks in the softest and gentlest voice imaginable. "It's soft... Isn't it?" He asks, as he strokes her head with his free hand. He feels the softest and prettiest feeling ever, and his mind is filled with thoughts. He wishes to stay like this forever now.

"Ya....soft...and fluffy.....like a cloud...in the blue sky..." she speaks softly, a small little smile on her face as she sleepily plays with his little strand of blue hair.

His heart nearly melts when she says that. He really likes clouds, and he likes the skies, and he likes blue as a colour. Her description makes him want to cry, as his heart fills up with so much love and kindness. He likes her, so much. That was such a sweet thing to say... "Oh my sweetie... You have a really creative mind. That was very kind of you to say..." He speaks softly, his voice filled with kindness and affection. As he looks down at her, he can't help but feel his heart fill up with love.

He keeps hugging her, as he strokes her hair gently. He enjoys it so much when she does something soft and gentle like this. He just wants to spend time with her now. He wants to know more about her. He wants to be her friend, and help her with everything. He strokes her hair with his free hand, as he looks down at her with kindness and sympathy in his eyes "My dear..." He says softly, and his voice is so gentle, the doctor seems to like calling her that. He truly adores her now.

The more she stayed in the doctor's arms, the more she seemed to relax....her mind was still thinking about what her brother told her......is a lie...right? Yes, of course it is. How can a man that holds her so dearly and carefully, be evil and cruel?....her brother doesn't know what he is talking about. (y/n) was feeling safe with Dottore, he is her friend, and she likes him very much. Why would her brother say such mean things about the doctor?

"Mister Dottore...I....don't understand why big brother said those things about you...i told him you were so gentle and caring with my heart...and he just....he got so angry...then he started saying that, I couldn't help you anymore....it...makes me so....so sad..." she says, as she gently plays with a strand of his blue hair...she was genuinely confused and sad about her brother's reaction to the doctor touching her inner workings.

His heart breaks, as he holds her close to himself. He strokes her hair gently with one hand, as he looks down at her. But he can't help but feel angry at her brother now. She does not deserve someone so cruel. "He is wrong. I care about you, my dear. I cannot believe that he would say such cruel things to you now, but..." He shakes his head, not wanting to speak of her brother negatively "What he said is wrong."

(y/n)'s eyes were puffy from her crying, but she looked up at him with a small shine in her eyes. He said he cares about her....is was true then. "y-you....really care about me?" she asks with a small but hopeful voice.

He smiles down at her, and he looks at her with his softest and kindest eyes ever. He cannot lie to her, and he truly does want to tell her everything. And besides, he really does care about her, and he thinks that she should know just how important she is to him. "Yes...my dear... I do. More than you know. And you care for me, too, do you not?" He asks a little softly, as he strokes her hair gently with one hand. His hearts fills up with warmth and love for her.

She manages to give him a small, but warm smile. "I....i do....you're my friend Mr.Dottore....I like you..." she looks up at him, her eyes holding innocence and adoration.

He has to stop himself from crying, as her words fill up his heart with so much love. She truly believes that he is her friend, and he can't help but feel so happy about this. He truly cares for her, and he is so happy that she considers him her friend, too. He looks down at her with so much kindness in his eyes, and he hugs her closer to himself. "My darling..." He says softly. He wishes she could stay like this forever now, with his arms tightly wrapped around her, comforting this small puppet that makes his heart finally feel something for another being that is not himself.

She was slowly getting more and more sleepy. Her eyes feeling heavy after all the crying. (y/n) yawns a little, her head gently laying on Dottore's chest. She must be very tired.

He feels her head gently resting on his chest, as her soft breathing fills up his ears. A feeling of joy fills up his chest, as his heart feels as if it was about to explode. She was so tired... He strokes the back of her head gently. He didn't mind, though, if she slept now. He could be the safest cushion she could find. "Poor thing..." He says softly, as he looks down at her with love in his voice and eyes.

The doctor assumed that she wouldn't want to go back to her brother's room. So he gently gets up, with an almost sleeping (y/n) on his arms. Dottore will bring her back to his room so she can sleep safe and sound. He opens the Lab's door so they can leave for his much more comfortable bedroom.

He goes into his room, carrying her in his arms all the while. He holds her close to himself, and he walks very carefully. He can see how tired and sleepy she is, and he doesn't want to wake her up. But he wants to make sure she sleeps somewhere more comfy, so he takes her to his bedroom. Once he arrives, he lays the poor, sleepy girl down on his bed, and he sits down next to her. His heart flutters, as he looks down at her with such kindness in his eyes.

By the time they got to his room, she was already asleep. Her eyes were closed softly, as her small body now rests on the doctor's comfortable bed, resting her head on the soft pillow.

He sits down gently, as he watches over her while she sleeps. She looks so peaceful right now. He cannot express how much he wants to look after her. He puts a blanket over her, and he kisses her cheek gently. He looks at her for a little longer, before he finally leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Dottore will let (y/n) rest on his room tonight. Maybe he can take the opportunity to try and finish some experiments. She needs sleep much more than he does.

He sighs as he leaves the room and closes the door, before finally sitting down on his chair in front of his desk. He feels so many things, and he cannot put it into words. She is in his room now, and he feels so happy about it. He tries to focus on his work, and he puts his mind to it. But he is always interrupted by a thought about her, and his heart constantly fills up with love, care, and kindness for her. He can't put himself to it today. He just keeps sitting there, as he thinks about the now sleeping puppet...

For the first time in years, he cannot stop thinking about a person. She is the only thing on his mind. "Poor thing..." He murmurs softly, as he puts his hands on top of his head. He looks at his notes in the notebook on his desk, but he can't make sense of them. They might as well be gibberish, and he can't focus. He sighs, and he keeps looking at his notes on his notebook, as his eyes look through the pages all over again. It's not the first time he reads through them, but he can't understand anything anymore.

Meanwhile (y/n) sleeps safely in the doctor's bed....and in her sleep....she smiles...

***

《We all love a soft Dottore don't we...♡》

♡

#dottore x y/n #fanfic #il dottore #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin #dottore x you #x reader

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zelda7999 · 3 years ago

Note

jkhdjkf please imagine with me Eclipse working on a project that normally needs two people but he's got all four arms working on it. management says that for safety purposes, he needs someone at least attending. well, turns out that if Agent Neon helps, Eclipse gets to cuddle AND keep focused on work~ - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

Okay okay, so I read this when I woke up (like 4 hours ago skjdhafkjlsdfh) and I just HAD to write this. It stole my attention so fast lksd;jflksajdf I also cannot PROPERLY EXPRESS HOW MUCH THIS MADE ME GIGGLE AND SQUEE WITH JOY

It may not be exactly what you were picturing, but I took the idea and legit RAN with it. It's mine now >:)

Title: Better with Company | Words: 1,789 | Approx. read time 8 mins

Find it under the cut!

Better with Company

Typically your work didn’t involve overtime, Eclipse was very good at making sure all projects and tasks got finished within their allotted time. You’re sure that him having four arms helped with that task, anything having to do with paperwork was faster than you could ever hope to keep up with. The same to be said with assembling prototypes. He was deadly efficient with those hands, and much to your dismay… He caught you staring at said hands often. However, with how efficient you knew him to be, hearing that management was calling you in to assist him was odd.

If Eclipse needed help he would have called you, right? Or perhaps even asked while you were still at work. Currently you were slipping your work clothes back on and rushing out the door to get back there. It was a 15 minute walk, so you would need to hurry if you wanted to make it. Though another detail of Managements call that stuck with you, is that they assured you nothing would start until you had arrived… That didn’t make you in any less of a rush however. If something was happening, you wanted to be there ASAP.

So when you arrive and find Eclipse more fidgety than usual, the worry that has been in the back of your mind begins to grow.

“Eclipse! Management called me in, did we forget something?”

His head turns to you too fast, unnaturally fast. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume it was just because he’s an animatronic, but you do know better. He never moved that fast unless you were in danger. He had some sort of knack for knowing when you were about to get hurt, and most times than not, stopped you from doing whatever it was that would harm you. Now however, he seemed nervous. That might explain why all four hands had a fidget in them, and why he was pacing while doing so.

“No, no! Nothing like that. I am working on a project, and… Management reminded me that despite being able to preform the work as a one man team, I am required to have someone accompanying me even if they are not there to assist with said project.”

He pauses, a small static filled sound falls from his voice box. For a moment you worry he’s about to crash with how still he’s grown, but then he starts moving again with no issues.

“However, when they mentioned they would call someone in… I didn’t know it would be you!”

“Well, I live close. It makes sense to call me in, only a 15 minute walk after all.”

“And yet you made it here in 13!”

You really did rush here, didn’t you? Snickers threaten their way out as you put a hand over your mouth to subdue them.

“I was in a rush! Getting a call from management after what I thought was a successful work day is VERY anxiety inducing. That’s besides the point however! What’s the project?”

Eclipse wastes no time in pocketing three of four fidgets as he leads you to the project in question. With just a look at it, one would assume it was just a pile of scrap and bolts. However, the blueprints to the side of it give you a small inkling of what it may be.

“Management contacted me near the end of day and requested I re-evaluate and upgrade the 4500-XX equipment. They haven’t been known to be the most… Efficient invention of mine, but they served their purpose for quite a time.”

“4500-XX?”

The question is simple, just the name and a questioning tone. It serves you well because Eclipse brings the blueprints closer and gives you a proper look at them.

“When I had first landed this position I had been working off of requests from other agents. Things they would need in their day-to-day work. One of which, was the 4500-XX. A suitcase for containing top secret information, while also protecting it. Only the owner of the case could open it safely. If someone other than it’s registered owner were to open it, the files would be destroyed for protection. Now, field agents are complaining it disposes of them in a way that disrupts their work. I thought the explosion was an efficient way of doing so, however I can see how others may… Disagree.”

You listen carefully while looking over the documents. The mechanisms within it were wonderful and made an immense amount of sense. While the case could dispose of top secret information when in the wrong hands, it also had several security features that allowed other agents to resume the work. If perchance an agent were to lose the case, or not be able to get back to the case… As long as someone within the agency or someone registered to said case got to it, it wouldn’t explode.

“And so you’re… Redesigning it?”

“Yes! I can improve this significantly. It would be an easy task, I could in all honesty do it myself… Management however deems it necessary that I have someone with me during the process.”

“Do you… Want my help? I mean, I’m okay with staying back and just watching! But if you want, I can actually assist.”

“it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve assisted on a project like this! However… I am hesitant to completely agree to your assistance-”

You’re about to be very mock-offended when he puts two hands up to calm you with a smile and continue talking.

“But! I know you had just finished your work day, as did I, but you may be more tired than you let on! I can continue to work with ease, but I would not want to put that stress on you if you’re too tired.”

Actually, that was really sweet. Heat dusts your cheeks as your heart melts into a puddle at his care. You were tired, but you weren’t going to mention it. You had agreed to come in after all. You could have said no, but in truth… You wanted to see Eclipse. Even if it was during work, and not in the setting you wanted, it was still time spent with him.

“That’s… Actually really sweet. I am tired, but if you need me I am more than ready to help.”

“Well, then I have the perfect way for you to assist! Come here.”

You nod and walk over to him, with little to no warning his lower set of arms wraps themselves around you waist and holds you against him. You look up to him, and find he’s already working on what’s in front of him. Grabbing tools, pieces of the project, and even readjusting the blueprints so they were on better display for the both of you. That’s when he rolls the tool trolley closer and grabs your attention.

“I will work on the inner mechanisms, but I would appreciate if you could put the case itself back together! Perhaps a way to make it more personalized? Every agent is different after all.”

You smile up at him and nod, accepting this new task presented. The two of you work in this close proximity, happy to go quiet with focus… But even more happy to be pressed against each other while doing so. A couple hours go by, Eclipse’s speed and accuracy hasn’t staggered or even changed. It was a sight to behold and with exhaustion creeping up slowly but surely, your tired mind put down your tools in trade for watching him work. Before you know it your eyes are closing and you’re leaning against him as sleep catches you.

You don’t know how long you’re out, but when you wake up you find yourself still held close to Eclipse. The project itself finished in front of you both. It looked like a normal suit case, for all indented purposes… It kind of was just a suitcase. The new notes added to the old blueprint give you the idea it was even more than it’s previous design. There were so many things Eclipse could have done while you were out.

“Have a nice nap?”

“I’ll probably have a sore neck later.”

“Not to worry, you were supported the whole time! You should expect a perfectly not sore neck!”

“My hero!”

A yawn escapes you before the giggles do.

“We’re finished here, so if you’re still tired y-”

The sentence dies from his voice box and the ever comforting arms around your waist go limp. Concern overtakes you before self preservation does, Eclipse falls backwards and you fall with him. Thankfully you’re on top of him and not the other way around. How long had he been working today? He always came to work with a full charge, you remembered that detail from previous conversations… His battery must have gotten low enough for his systems to flag it as a dangerous level of low. He’ll be back in a minute. Back in a minute. You repeat this in your head to keep any thoughts from spiraling.

At least his project was finished. Though what good you turned out to be. Doing a little work and then passing out on him… Well, not on him. Against him. A flicker of light visualizes itself in his eyes, then they’re on completely.

“Eclipse!”

While you may be happy to see him back on, his expression shows the opposite emotion. He looks panicked, and with how fast he’s now picking you up and checking you over explains itself.

“I’m okay! I’m not hurt, you didn’t fall on me. I fell on you actually.”

A static filled sigh fills the silence after your information.

“Well, let us both get home.”

“A-Actually…! Uhm… Would you… Like someone to walk home with? Y’know… For company and all…”

Eclipse’s smile widens a smidge as his eyes fall into a well known puppy-like expression. All four of his hands close around yours, holding them in a comforting cage.

“You could stay the night at my apartment actually, if you want to that is. I have recently acquired a bed.“

Well, that was unfair. Now your face is bright red and you don’t have the hands to hide how red you are! But you were not going to say no to this offer.

“Absolutely, yes- I- I mean… If that’s alright of course! I don’t want to intrude on your night anymore, and I’m sure you’ve seen enough of me today. So if you don’t want me to I can-”

Eclipse shushes you and chuckles softly.

“I invited you after all! I would love for you to stay the night.”

“Then… Let’s get walking!”

#my writing #Ask Zelda #clxckwork-sun-n-moon asks #Accidentally Undercover #Accidentally Undercover fanwork #Accidentally Undercover Eclipse #Agent Horizon #Agent Neon #Y/N X Eclipse #hehehehe I had fun #I had one idea #and then it compounded with another #and now here we are #cuddles and work!#and maybe a lil more? :eyes:

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beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago

Text

A Good Man

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS, angst, underlying anxious tones (happy ending, though!) Summary: Bucky calls you distraught after having to resume the classic role of the Winter Soldier again A/N: When I saw this scene in TFATWS all I could think about was how wild that had to be for Bucky to assume that brainwashed role again and idk maybe it isn’t that deep and i just went crazy with it but what can i say? i love a good sad/angsty one shot with happy ending :)

Masterlist

Your heart leaped with joy as your phone started buzzing beside you on your desk. Only one person would be calling you at such an obscure time and seeing your boyfriend’s name and picture pop-up as confirmation made your heart melt.

Hitting ‘accept,’ you happily greeted him, "Hi, honey."

You couldn’t contain the smile on your face as you waiting for his answer. You two hadn’t talked for a bit after he went off, only giving you a brief rundown of his plans. He was a bit frantic, a bit worried about his actions, but you assured him you knew what he had to do. Not being much of a hero yourself, all you could do was support him and promise to be there when he gets back, arms opened, ready to comfort him.

"Hi, doll," Bucky responded but his tone absolutely did not meet your energy. He sounded a bit out of it, almost distant, as his words dragged out in a sigh. At first you thought maybe he had just gotten tossed around in a fight but there was something in his voice you had to inquire about.

"How’s everything going?" You asked, cautiously, as you leaned back in your desk chair. The late-night work you were doing was becoming abandoned as your attention turned to your boyfriend.

Bucky paused, the line practically going dead. You worried he had hung up, maybe thought better than to tell you what was going on, but you could still hear his uneven breaths. They were haunting and rigid. You started to get more worried as the seconds of silence went on.

Afraid he was going to drop the call, you wanted to change the subject when Bucky finally spoke up. "We teamed up with Zemo."

Your phone nearly slipped out of your hands. Sitting up abruptly, you did your best to contain your shocked tone. "Wow, um, alright," you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. "How- How is that going?" The last thing Bucky had explained was going to see him in prison and now somehow, some god-damn way, the man was outside. The man who had done all that to your boyfriend. Had controlled and weaponized him. The terror, the fear, everything Bucky would tell you came rushing back-

"Doll," Bucky mumbled, cutting off your thoughts. You gulped at his weak, sad tone. "You still love me, right?"

Your brows furrowed. "I love you so much, Buck," you said, meaning every single word entirely. After a deep breath, you then asked, "What’s wrong?"

"If you see any videos tonight, please don’t watch them-,"

"Videos?" You gasped, "Bucky, what is going on?" Your jaw clenched as you sat on the edge of your seat, desperate for answers. You weren’t about to disobey him but he was also giving you nothing.

That silence came back but you forced yourself to wait patiently. No dial tone came, just the same haunting breaths on the other end of the line.

He spoke abruptly, nearly catching you off guard. "We needed to speak to an informant so…" Bucky coughed, sounding like he was covering any worry. You still waited, silent. "I had to take on the role of the Winter Soldier, that Winter Soldier, again."

"I- What?" You asked. What the hell did that mean? "What do you mean took on the role? What- Bucky, what did you do?"

"No, no, babe, it’s fine," His voice was frantic, making something twist in your heart out of sadness. "I- I had to just pretend but it was back in that headspace, that role, and… And it was a lot, doll. I felt like a soldier again, following commands, and I didn’t- I mean I’m fine, everything’s fine. I know it wasn’t real but I- I just needed to talk to you. It got overwhelming and…" Bucky took another deep breath. You sniffled, holding back some tears as you listened to the worry, the tragedy, in his voice. "I just needed to hear your voice. Remember who I am now. What I have waiting for me."

You couldn’t help the little sob that escaped you. You didn’t exactly think it was the end of the world but it was… alarming. Necessary, it seemed, but alarming, and you didn’t know how to really help. Part of you wanted to beg him to come home but that just wasn’t reasonable. You knew the stakes very well.

Bucky started mumbling your name trying to calm you down but you cut him off. "Bucky, you know that’s not you anymore. You’re no one’s soldier, you’re no one’s asset, okay? You’re a good man who just wants to make things right." You took a deep breath as the waterworks flowed. "It wasn’t real, honey. You did what you had to do for the great good. As cheesy as that may sound, it’s true. And I think the fact you’re worried about it means you’ve come a long way."

A shaky breath came through on the phone. You both seemed to be such messes on different sides of the world. All you desperately wanted was to take him in your arms, reassure him everything was fine, feel his touch and give him that comfort. But he was doing what he had to as a hero and you knew it didn’t come without its challenges.

"Thank you, doll," Bucky mumbled. "I really needed to hear all that."

You mustered a weak smile through your teary expression. "You’re doing good, honey, I promise. You’ve worked so hard and I’m immensely proud of you."

You could practically hear the smile finally forming on Bucky’s lips as he gave you another thank you.

"Now, if I may ask," you sighed, "what is this about videos?"

Bucky groaned. "Some witnesses had those genius phones or whatever."

"You mean smartphones?"

"Whatever," He scoffed. "I think they took videos of the fight."

You shook your head, moving the phone to your other ear for comfort, and leaned back in your chair. "Your therapist is not going to like that."

"Please don’t remind me."

You couldn’t help but give a little chuckle at his response. "Are you doing okay, now?"

Bucky hummed. "I think so," he said. "Sorry for bombarding you with all that. I got a little panicky when I realized…"

The trailing off made your heart break just a little bit more. In your time of knowing him, when he wasn’t speaking his mind could be wandering, filling with worries and horrors you just wanted nothing more than to magically cast away. But the best you could manage was to actually be there. To listen to it all, fully on the roller coaster ride.

"Hey, honey," you said, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. "I promise, you’re okay. You were doing your job and it might not have been ideal but that wasn’t you. You don’t even know that person anymore."

"You’re right," he sighed. "God, how are you always right?"

You giggled, wiping away some stray tears. "I’m just so smart."

Bucky gave a weak laugh. It wasn’t much but you’d take it. "That’s for sure," he agreed.

He sounded like he was about to say something else when a voice called in the background. Bucky let out an annoyed sigh then said, "I have to go, doll, but I can call you tomorrow."

"Okay, honey," you said, sniffling slightly. "Please be safe."

"Always," he mumbled, his voice cracking just a bit, but he seemed to quickly compose himself. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Buck," you sighed. "Come back to me in one piece."

"Doll, please, you cannot say that to your boyfriend who has a detachable arm."

You gasped, "Bucky, you know what I mean-,"

He cut you off with another weak laugh. You were slightly relieved his humor hadn’t totally abandoned him in his panic. You wish you could see the same for yourself but Bucky always knew how to break the mood.

"Of course, I do," he sighed. "Just like teasing you."

"You’re insufferable."

He scoffed. "You love me." You could practically see him shaking his head with that stupid but loving teasing grin playing at his lips, trying to overcome those sad eyes.

You chuckled as your heart absolutely warmed at the mental pictures of your boyfriend. There was no denying you were madly in love with him. All of him. Brain, body, heart, soul. The entire package. "Of course I do."

#tfatws spoilers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #one shot #fluff #angst #mcu fic #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #writing*

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

take me by the heart, take me by the hand // Elijah Mikaelson

A/N: An extension of the blurb I wrote on my blurb night a couple of weeks ago!! My taglists are open! If you would like to be added, drop me an ask and I’ll add you!! I hope you all like!

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x GN!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, soulmates, pining, mutual pining, mentions of food.

Word count: 2.1k

The sun was shining when Elijah Mikaelson began to understand jealousy in its unending torture. He wasn’t used to such an emotion. He wasn’t used to the blind rage that filtered through his body when he caught sight of you laughing with his brother. He wasn’t used to the want that would settle deep within his gut whenever he made you smile, laugh.

He supposed there was a sick juxtaposition in the fact that there he was, a creature of the night, sitting in the sunlight as he watched you laugh along to whatever story Klaus was currently telling.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t felt jealousy before, but Elijah had never experienced it to this extreme where he felt like the villain of a fairytale, desperate to steal the innocent love interest away and keep them for eternity.

“You wrestled a bear!” You gasp, bringing Elijah’s attention back to the room. Your eyes are wide as you hang onto every word of Klaus’ story.

The narrator nods; a smug smile crossing his face as he begins to act out the crux of the story. “We had this newfound strength after we were turned by our mother,” Klaus explains, “And the bear was easily disgruntled, choosing me for its next meal.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, love,” Klaus croons; his smile turning to a smirk as he hears Elijah grit his teeth. “I chose to engage.”

“Why would you choose to do such a thing?” You demand; eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern for Klaus’ ability to make sane decisions. Elijah makes himself turn away; if he could, he would press away the furrow between your brows with a kiss, explaining that his brother was ever the exaggerator as he was an actor.

Klaus shrugs, lounging in his chair with a self-satisfied expression on his face. “Because I could and can,” He answers plainly, catching Elijah’s narrowed gaze from across the room and raising a single eyebrow in challenge.

Elijah doesn’t rise to the bait; doesn’t give himself the chance to. Instead, he leaves the room, feeling your frown on his back with every step he takes away from you.

“Have I done something to offend your brother?” You ask Klaus; your voice small as you stare at the doorway Elijah only walked through moments ago. Elijah had been off with you for weeks; staying in the room with you for limited amounts of time before stalking off to another room. He rarely spoke, but the soft timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine with every word uttered. You couldn’t bear the thought of having offended the man you found yourself attracted to.

“You’ve done nothing, love,” Klaus reassures in a rare moment of affection. “My older brother just has some issues he needs to work out.”

“Oh,” You reply, falling quiet and remaining so for the rest of your time spent with the supernatural family.

----------

“Are you going to explain what is wrong with you, or are you going to stew in your feelings all night?” Klaus demands of his brother as soon as he enters the room, having seen you off only moments ago. The decanter of whisky sits open on the coffee table; one glass out of the two already filled halfway. Klaus helps himself to the other glass, pouring a knuckle’s length of the amber liquid.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Elijah states airily, bringing his glass to his lips. He knew full well that he was jealous; he knew that was distancing himself from you and his sibling, unable to bear the rising envy clawing at his throat. What pains him most is that he can how his distance affects you, how hurt you look when he returns clipped conversations. The furrow between your brows deepens and he feels like a monster for being the cause of it.

“Your behaviour in front of (Y/N),” Klaus explains, doing his best to keep the anger aimed at his brother at bay. “They think they’ve offended you.”

“(Y/N) could never offend me,” Elijah states vehemently.

“You’re going to have to explain that to them.”

“I will eventually,” Elijah sighs, finishing off his drink and quickly refilling it.

“Whatever it is, brother, you can tell me,” Klaus promises in a rare moment of softness.

“That’s the thing, brother,” Elijah begins, “I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I see you two interacting and I lose my mind to jealousy.”

“Ah,” Klaus whispers, a knowing smile on his face as he places his glass on the table. The younger of the two men stands, clapping his brother on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Klaus finds it hard to keep the smile off his face as he wanders the halls of his New Orleans home. His brother had found his soulmate and hadn’t realised it. Their mother had warned them of such magic; the natural magic of the earth that created two souls to be intertwined perfectly. Outwardly, Klaus didn’t put much stock in the belief, but he had seen his mother turn his siblings into monsters cursed with having to walk the night for an eternity. It would make sense for soulmate magic to enter the Mikaelson home once and for all.

Elijah doesn’t stand from the chair; he remains seated for the night, resting his chin on his hand as he tries to get to grip with the feelings roused in your presence. He can no longer deny the attraction he feels for you; can no longer ignore the fact that he would give everything to wake up in a morning with you beside him, but what he cannot explain is the darkness of the jealousy holding him in its grip.

He only leaves the chair when he hears your voice chiming off the stone walls of the compound they call home. Your laughter lightens the atmosphere of the house; bringing joy to a home that was so used to the darkness of Klaus’ moods.

The kitchen is bright with the morning light as Elijah settles at the table; his gaze already fixed on Klaus and yourself. The former grabbing a box of cereal from the cupboard as you help yourself to the fridge for the milk.

It’s as you sit down that he begins to feel it. The sunlight catches you perfectly; your hair practically soaking up its rays as if you were to become the celestial being itself – the brightness radiating out of you with every laugh, every smile, and every animated gesture of your hands as you tell off Klaus for the fifth time already today. Elijah tightens his hand into a fist in an effort to keep the growing possessiveness at bay.

He didn’t know where it began; this dark urge to possess you. All he knew was that the majority of the time, his thoughts revolved around you along with the word ‘mine’ on repeat. The façade of the gentleman, so carefully crafted after a millennia wandering the earth, began to crumble in your presence. Elijah could feel the green eyed monster clawing its way through his body, its claws sinking in deeper with every friendly glance at any man that wasn’t him.

“It comes with finding your soulmate,” Freya announces to her younger brother; the earthy scent of sage blooming around her as she takes a seat next to him. Elijah raises a single eyebrow in question; not in the mood for futile conversation today. Freya represses the urge to roll her eyes as she elaborates, “The jealousy. The irrational anger. The want. It comes with finding your soulmate.”

“Soulmates are a myth,” Elijah counters, finding his gaze drawn to you – watching you talk to Klaus, laughing at one of his calmer moments. The very action has Elijah clenching his fists to keep the anger at bay.

Freya fixes her younger brother with an unimpressed look. “Elijah, you’re one of the oldest vampires in the world, and I’m a witch. We are the myths whispered around campfires.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Elijah wonders in awe. “I never thought I would have one,” He continues in a softer voice, thinking of his past lovers – they had never made his mind race, or his breath stop in his chest, they were never his last thought at night and his first thought in the morning.

You were, however.

Elijah meets the gaze of his wiser, older sister to find her already watching him with a fond smile on her face. “Go speak to (Y/N),” She urges in a soft voice, “Explain everything.”

With the support of his sister, Elijah makes his way to where you sit with Klaus. His younger brother already regaling you with one of his many stories about his past; the darker parts of each tale hidden away this early in the morning. Klaus pauses his tale as Elijah clears his throat. “Could I have a moment of your time?” Elijah asks of you, glancing between Klaus and yourself. Klaus raises an eyebrow but wisely remains quiet.

“Of course,” You murmur, standing from your chair, following the older gentleman to an alcove just down the hall from the kitchen.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour,” Elijah starts when he feels certain that his siblings aren’t listening in, “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way over the past couple of months. I’ve been coming to terms with some personal things and Freya, thankfully, explained the cause of such behaviour this morning.”

“Your apology is accepted, Elijah,” You laugh, smiling happily at the taller gentleman, taking note of how he seems closer to the Elijah you have come to know and love. “What did Freya explain if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind at all,” He answers, “You’re bound to find out eventually.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Elijah!”

Elijah chuckles, smiling down at you indulgently. “I was jealous,” He explains; his face turning thoughtful. “I couldn’t figure out why. Whenever I saw you speaking or laughing with another man like Klaus or Kol, or even Marcellus though I know he’s happy with Rebekah, I was overcome with such intense jealousy that it was hard for me to get control of.”

“You were jealous?” You splutter, “Of what?”

“Of the men you so easily formed friendships with. I wanted to be the one you smiled at, that you laughed with.”

“I thought you hated me,” You confess timidly. “I thought I had broken an ancient vampire protocol and I had offended you.”

“You could never offend me,” Elijah states, “And I could never hate you, it’s rather the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

Elijah nods. “Freya explained to me the existence of a magic I once believed to not exist. I had never seen it; thus I could never state its truth. It wasn’t until Freya explained that the reason behind my jealousy and dark moods was that you are, indeed, my soulmate did I even remember that such a powerful magic exists on this planet.”

“Soulmate,” You breathe, peering up at Elijah through your lashes, “I’m your soulmate?”

“As I am yours,” Elijah swears, stepping that little bit closer to you.

“Vampires… witches… soulmates,” You whisper, unable to comprehend the change in your belief system.

“You’re not upset, are you?” Elijah asks, reaching for your hand. He need to know your feelings on this; should you not want the bond; he would take a step back. It would hurt, but he would do it for your happiness. Should you accept the bond, he would be a man in possession of the greatest living thing on earth – you.

“I’m not upset,” You promise, smiling at the original vampire, tangling your fingers together.

You place your free hand on Elijah’s chest, fully aware that you would not feel a heart beat under your palm. Even through the designer material of his perfectly tailored suit, you can feel the coolness of his skin and whilst many would be repulsed by the lack of warmth, you only feel further attraction for the man in front of you.

Elijah’s hand covers yours; the action speaking louder than any words could. He can feel the life thrumming through your veins; the vitality that punctuates the air with every breath you take. He feels drunk on his feelings for you; at a loss to understand how your paths crossing months ago could lead to a moment like this.

“I want a forever with you,” You whisper boldly, moving your hand to the back of Elijah’s neck.

“Forever and more,” Elijah promises; sealing the spoken vow with an unhurried kiss.

*****

The Originals taglist: @angelxnaa

Special fic tag: @elijahs-wife

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction #the originals #the originals fanfiction #elijah mikaelson imagines #the originals fanfic

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supernaturalgirl20 · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, mate! 💚 Saw your requests are open and wanted to send in a kind of...unusual one. I feel like this could go for Oberyn, Javier, or Max. but honestly I'm curious about all the Pedro boys--a headcanon maybe? Short Fun sized, curvy reader that cannot have kids--by their own choice (ex. voluntary sterilization). If you need further details, feel free to message me.

Love your works! Keep it up! 💜🐀💚

Thank you for your request my darling. Hope you enjoy 😊 this is my first time doing head cannons 😬 so go easy on me 🙏 I only did a few P characters, ones I felt this suited 🥰

Warnings: mentions of sex, unprotected sex, voluntary sterilisation, having tubes tied,mention of prostitution,breeding kink.

Oberyn is a very sexual person, loving giving you all the pleasures of the world. He doesn’t mind that your on the curvier side, he loves YOU. He loves slapping that gorgeous, voluptuous ass while you ride out your pleasure on top of him.

Even though this man has eight daughters, he has a serious breeding kink. Filling you full of his seed and watching it drip out before pushing it back in with his fingers.

You shyly tell him one evening after a vigorous sex session that you can’t have children. Having been a prostitute in kings landing you had yourself sterilised, it was safer that way.

Your terrified he will be upset, having already expressed a desire to watch you grow with his babe.

So your shocked when he seems ‘indifferent’. “Little dove you did what you had to, to survive in that cruel place, why should that upset me.”

He goes on to explain that he has eight daughters who fill he life with joy, he is contented.

Javier never thought he would marry, never thought he would be committed to anyone, not until you walked into his office wearing that damn pencil skirt that hugged your ass perfectly.

He loved your curves. Loved grabbing onto you as he railed you into the mattress.

When you tell him you can’t have children, having sterilised yourself years ago, he’s ok with it.

Honestly he’s never pictured himself as the family man, he’s quite happy to spend his life with you by his side on his fathers ranch.

You can bet he takes full advantage of it though, filling you full of his seed.

The man hasn’t had unprotected sex, always wearing a condom but now, my god this man has a secret breeding kink, whispering “gonna fill you up baby, watch it take root. Wanna see you full of my babe.”

You live it when he talk dirty.

The dude is a vampire, he can’t get you pregnant anyway.

You don’t know that for sure when you tell him you can’t have children, but he smirks that devilish smirk at you telling you that ‘you know since he’s dead’ his sperm is ‘dead’.

Even if he could impregnate you, it’s your body and if you choose not to have children, well he is 100% behind you.

He still likes to fill you full of him, watching your gorgeous ass giggle as he fucks you on his desk. He loves your curves so much he bites into your ass, the pain from his teeth penetrating you sending you over that edge.

Frankie Morales loves you to death. You came into his life at his lowest point, helping him recover from the death of Tom. Getting his life back on track.

The relationship grows stronger as it progresses and he proposes a year after you start dating.

You don’t answer him right away wanting to tell him that you can’t have children. He looks at you confused but let’s you continue.

When you tell him you tied your tubes, that your mother had complications after your birth resulting in her having a hysterectomy.

You didn’t want the same fate so you did something about it. Frankie doesn’t seem bothered, he has Sophia from his first marriage and your a great step mom to her.

As long as you’re his for life , besides the way that red dress is clinging to your hips and ass, all this man wants to do is fuck you in his truck.

This doesn’t stop this man from having a serious breeding kink though. He wants to fill you full of his seed and watch it drip out of you.

Jack perused you. As soon as you joined the team and he clapped eyes on your gorgeous curves, this man was hooked.

It started out as a casual thing, fucking away all that pent up anger and energy from the job but slowly, after months it started to turn into something more.

Jack got cold feet and became distant, he hasn’t had an actual relationship with anyone but his late wife. He felt like he was replacing her.

You weren’t having any of it so you confront him, telling him that he can’t be one foot in one foot out. He breaks down and tells you how he’s feeling.

You tell him you don’t want to replace her and that your not asking him to marry you, just being together is enough.

In turn you explain that you can’t have children, opting to have your tubes tied, being pregnant and working for statesman wasn’t an option.

Jack doesn’t have any issues. Honestly he had all that and it was taken away from him, he doesn’t want to go down that road again.

He also respects your decision, it is your body after all. It just means you can ride this cowboy bare back 😉.

It took Din a while to come around to you, he’s been closed off from other for so long he didn’t know how to actually have a relationship with you.

You stick it out and he finally warms up, so much so that your relationship became an intimate one quickly enough.

He Ioves your body, especially when you fight. Your short stature and slightly curvier figure making you an even deadlier weapon.

It’s not until Grogu is taken in that he starts thinking of entering a riddurick with you and having a family.

Family is after all the centre of mandalorian culture. He expressed this to you one night as you lay curled into each other in his cot. You stiffen beside him before you tell him you were sterilised, a decision you made yourself, and that children were not an option.

You love Din and fear he will cast you away after hearing this. While the thought of having his own child, a mixture of you and him was something in the forefront of his mind lately, he loved you more.

He asks what about Grogu to which you explain that “I love children and we can have foundlings, I just don’t want to have my own.”

He’s elated that this news, setting co-ordinates for the nearest planet to find an orphanage.

Din has a MAJOR breeding kink! This metal cover hunk wants to fill you full of his seed whenever he can.

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#pedro pascal #frankie morales x f!reader #oberyn martell x reader #max phillips x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #marcus pike x female reader #agent whiskey x f!reader

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lavendermin · 4 years ago

Text

when it storms | kazuha

pairing | kazuha x reader

word count | 1.9k

genre | light angst, soft, first encounters

The skies had been cast over with rolling clouds of dark grey. Where the sun and moon used to glow so reverently, there now only fell a heavy rain in their wake.

It was fortunate for the land, your father had commented after a few days of downpour. The rain season was hardly this generous in recent years, and with the nation currently closed off there was an uneven flow of imports due to adjustment. More paperwork, longer shipment times. The people would have to endure less patron flow as the rain kept most indoors, but harvests and plenty of crystal clear lakes would be a sight to behold in the coming months.

This is good, you convinced yourself. Perhaps the dry storm seasons won’t be as many.

The streets outside slowly became less and less active with the usual flow of people. You stand against the door frame of your family’s restaurant, watching the never-ending sea of grey clouds above. The rain is cold against your skin as you stick out a hand curiously. It feels refreshing, pleasant.

“We’re closing up a little early today since the rain is starting back up again. Bring in the sign that’s outside. It would be a shame if it got blown away by tonight’s storm,” your father said as he wiped down the counters and put away clean bowls.

With a nod you happily went outside, umbrella in hand. The rain pattered quietly and rolled off the sides of its protective roof, surrounding you with a soothing atmosphere. The day had dwindled to a lethargic close, and with a languid fondness you watched the last few shopkeepers huddle back into their shops and homes.

The streets emptied out within minutes leaving muddy streets behind. The smell of wet earth hung in the air nostalgically.

Maybe it was fate, that double-take you took. With one last gaze out across the rainy-soaked street, you noticed them. The figure was so still—statuesque— that you wouldn’t have noticed them through the rainy mist if it hadn’t been for the bright crimson of their clothing that stood out.

Had they nowhere to go? Or were they someone who enjoyed standing in the rain? Better yet… How long had they been standing there in the pouring rain?

The question made your heart sink just thinking about it.

From within the building, your father’s voice called out with amusement. “Y/n, come in quick or you’ll get soaked. I don’t want you getting chilled and falling ill because you wanted to watch the rain.”

There was a squeeze of your chest when you turned back to the rain—a pang of guilt that gripped onto your mind. Rain fell relentlessly hard as it picked up, and it filled your mind with concern for that stranger in the rain.

Your body only partially turned toward the door, a quick hesitation stopping you in your tracks as you took one last look over your shoulder. That person… would probably get sick at this rate. Something in the way they stood rigidly against the elements held no joy for the downpour. No childlike amusement like the one you held for rainy days.

“I’ll be right in,” you reassure. “I forgot I left something outside.”

Peering your head quickly through the door frame, you see your father wave you off with a patient smile.

“Be quick.”

With a nod, you wait until you see him disappear up the stairs to the second floor to turn in for the night. You are quick on your feet making your way down the street of shops and houses. The patter of your boots on the rapidly-forming puddles pushed your aching legs forward, umbrella tightly gripped in hand.

The stranger was still unmoving as you approached, steps sounding out with the splash of water with each step. You were sure he heard you, yet he did not turn to meet you as you drew near.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here in the rain, stranger,” you lightheartedly commented as you stopped next to him, holding your umbrella over him just enough to still partially shield you from the rain.

His eyes remained on the grey sky above, only now torn away slowly from the trance. There was a sorrowful haze that gripped those misty, crimson eyes.

“Do you think the rain is beautiful?” he asked.

This sudden question took you by surprise. The way he looked out at the sea of clouds held anything but sympathy for the grey skies that rained mercilessly.

You blinked, not knowing how to respond to this mysterious stranger. Unexpectedly, though, you felt at ease in his presence.

“I think the feeling of it is beautiful,” you responded, looking at the sky with him.

He hums at this answer, seemingly contemplating it. The answer comes from someone who spends their life indoors, and he understands it. Somehow, these small differences in experiences from person to person brings a little comfort to him. To know that not everyone’s simplicities of life are plagued by grief soothes his soul.

Brief silence overtakes you both as you stand in the downpour.

“Do you not like the rain?” you quietly ask after a while. There’s a worried crease in your brows as you look at him, and he cannot help but feel like he gravitates toward your warmth.

Only the harsh patter of the rain on your umbrella and flooding of the streets fills the silence for a beat as he remains in his thoughts.

“It’s been a while since I heard that question directed at myself,” he chuckles. The small smile that graces his features doesn’t reach his eyes, but answers fondly all the same. “When I was younger, I loved the rain.”

There’s weight in the words as he speaks them. You choose not to pry into the emotional scars tied to his answer.

“Are you travelling?” you ask, changing the subject.

He gives you a smile, and you notice how his snow-white hair clings to his face from the rain. It leaves a pleasantly warm feeling in your chest—how gentle he looks.

“Something like that.” Though his answers are vague, you aren’t one to pry—not when his eyes hold a distant sorrow in them. “It’s best to head inside. You could get sick out in the rain.”

“Come indoors with me, then,” you offer simply. With a warm smile you add, “If you’d like.”

He blinks at you, watches as you hover the umbrella closer over him. The rain is soaking most of you by now, and your smile is radiant— innocent in it’s bright sincerity as you offer him a roof over his head.

It makes this kind gesture all the more difficult to refuse.

“Kazuha,” is all he responds with, a thankful smile softening the gloom that surrounds him as you both hurry back down the muddy street. You introduce yourself just as briefly and lighthearted.

With a motion to the bar counter, you tap your hand on its surface to offer him a seat while you close up the shop and disappear into the kitchen. Kazuha wordlessly takes a seat, the warmth of the restaurant enveloping him pleasantly. His hands grip the towel that now rests around his shoulders a little tighter.

Within minutes, there’s a steaming bowl of noodles placed in front of him. “You’re too kind. I couldn’t possibly—“

You wave him off, plopping down on the seat next to him. “If the food is available, why not share a meal?” you interject simply, settling down next to him to begin eating your own noodle dish. “It’s hard to cook small portions when you’re only ever used to making large amounts for hungry customers. So, please, help yourself.”

“Thank you.” And Kazuha means it. “I’ll take my leave once I’ve finished.”

The look you give him is a little incredulous.

“In this rain? It’s an awfully harsh storm we’re expecting tonight.” You set down your chopsticks, looking at him fully with wide, concerned eyes. “You’re free to stay in the guest room until the storm passes. I would feel terribly guilty to leave you out in the rain.”

It’s silent, and you’ve both left your food untouched as Kazuha becomes a little tense. There’s something weighing on his mind with how he avoids your gaze, hands anxiously clenching and unclenching in his lap.

He reaches into his pocket, clutching something in his palm shielded from your view.

Now you’re curious.

His voice lowers, soft and cautious. “I don’t want to put you in danger with my presence.”

The smooth metal of the vision’s frame clangs quietly as Kazuha places it on the table, sliding it towards you.

“I’m a wanted man.”

There’s no response from you for a brief moment. Visions are rare to see nowadays, and even more dangerous to have. Your fingertips smooth over its surface momentarily, eyes sparkling with intrigue and wonder.

“The vision… Why is it missing?” you wonder silently.

Kazuha looks down. “That’s—“

“You don’t have to explain anything. This doesn’t make you a bad person,” you quickly defend. It takes him aback, caught off by the sudden emotion that makes your eyes twinkle. “Stay.”

“It would put you in da—“

“I don’t care. Your life is important. I’ll help you.” There’s a fire in your eyes as you hold his gaze, face serious. Your expression softens as you place the blank vision back in his palm with a reassuring gentleness. “I won’t lose another person to them.”

There are details that both of you do not know, information left out of each other’s backgrounds and circumstances. But one thing reigned true—there was goodness in his heart, and in yours, too. Perhaps this is what convinced him to accept your generosity.

He’s smiling, gentle upon his expression as he picks up his chopsticks once more.

“You aren’t the first to put your life on the line for me,” he adds quietly. The atmosphere has relaxed once more as you both continue eating through idle conversation in the dim restaurant lighting.

You hum, mouth full of food. “And I’m sure I won’t be the last. But,” you bite your thumb, pondering. “I’m sure you’ve been running for a while.”

With a quiet sigh, he answers, “Longer than I thought I would last, if I’m being honest.”

There’s a glint in your eye, and you’re deep in your own onslaught of thoughts. There’s an underlying anxiousness that falls upon your shoulders. Kazuha wishes he could read you better.

For the remainder of the quick meal, you hold your tongue but he can see the gears turning in your head. The bowls are emptied, hunger satisfied, and you show him to the guest room through hushed voices.

“Kazuha,” you call quietly before leaving the room you prepared for him. Your voice lowers further, barely above a whisper and you make it a point to sidle closer to him. “If you had the chance to escape Inazuma… would you?”

His eyes go a little wide for a moment. “You couldn’t mean…”

“I have a plan.”

And in that moment, he gazes at you with reverence and trust. His heart would be safe in the palm of your hand. You wait for his approval to continue with the idea. The smile he flashes you is contagious, and you are a beacon of hope in this tumultuous uncertainty.

He sits on the sleeping mat you've prepared, patting the spot next to him where he plopped down. “Let's hear it, then.”

In the late hours of the night, two hushed voices debate their best chance of escape.

“I have a close acquaintance, captain of her own fleet from Liyue.”

#kazuha #genshin #Kazuha/reader #kazuha x reader #genshin fanfic #drabble #light angst #inazuma #I just really love this maple boy #beidou #if you squint #drabble collection: coffee break for two #soft #first meeting #mii writes #short and sweet #inspired by that sad kazuha audio

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