#temperature monitoring features | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yourheart-inmyhands · 1 year ago

Note

Hello friend!

Would it be alright if I request some angst content with the Archons + Neuvi + Arlecchino where the darling is injured to a lethal extent, where they are hanging by a thread (your choice if it was self-given or otherwise).

Maybe some of them took darling's company and time for granted so having them be so close to gone is like a wake up call to them, and they become 10x more overbearing, and perhaps a little loving? Thank you!!!

🍌anon

Hi thank you so much for the request! Unfortunately I don't really do more than 3-4 characters in one post anymore so I did half the characters you asked for, but you are 100% free to send in another request for the others <3 I hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of violence, mentions of delusional behavior, mentions of reader being sick, hurt, and otherwise injured, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk.

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino might be a bit cold and standoffish, but she was never a cruel lover. She just didn’t trust herself to get any closer to you than she was. She’d sleep in the same bed as you at night, buy you gifts, and eat meals with you, but affection was a difficult thing to get from her. Arlecchino has feared being close to someone not because she doesn’t want to be loved, but because she doesn’t want to experience any more loss in her life.

She thought that by keeping you at arm’s length she could protect you, but in fact, she had been wrong. Sitting by your bedside, ears blocking out the dull beeping of your monitors as she stares. Not at your face, she can’t bring herself to look at your gorgeous features after letting you get this hurt, but instead, she stares at your hand. It lays limp on top of the bed sheets, and as much as Arlecchino hates to admit it, she wants nothing more than to hold it right now.

It’s almost as painful as the first time she saw you all bandaged up, wires all over you as you lay on the bed, looking more so asleep than in the coma the doctor said you were in. The desire to hold your hand, it made her fingers twitch, her nose scrunch and her heart hurt. Arlecchino loved you, undoubtedly, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be affectionate with you on this level. Against her will though, her hand seems to move on its own, creeping up the side of the bed and gently scooping up your limp one. Arlecchino was never one to cry, a barely audible curse leaving her lips as she bites them, trying to steady their trembling as she turns her head, blinking away the building tears. She hated crying, but she hated even more that this was the first time she’d ever held your hand, a time when you couldn’t even return it, couldn’t even be awake to feel it.

Neuvillette:

Neuvillette is distraught, both because of how long it took him to notice how bad your cold had been getting and because he didn’t even notice till a small hoard of angry melusines stormed his office. It wasn’t like he was trying to be ignorant, he had just been busy and figured that you’d get over your cold soon. Humans are strong and resilient, a mere cold shouldn’t be that difficult, especially with some melusines caring for you.

He had rushed home immediately, finding you curled up under a mass of blankets and yet still shivering, a gathering of melusines around you fussing and frantic over your continuous decline. While Neuvillette wanted to reassure them that you’d be alright, looking at you in this moment, he couldn’t even reassure himself of that.

A week had passed since Neuvillette had rushed home, refusing to return to his office until you had made a full recovery. He spent most of the day laying in bed with you, helping to keep you warm by holding you close, his natural body temperature being higher than humans helped greatly with this. He wasn’t worried about catching your cold, dragons had much hardier immune systems, but he was worried about your slow recovery rate. Even with the gracious help of the melusines, you had rapidly declined before he came around to ensure you were recovering. A small part of him wonders what it was that was making you worse, he knew the care the melusines provided was above and beyond what he could do himself. The small part of him that doesn’t know hides the smaller part that does know what was wrong, that small bit of denial that his ignorance was making you worse.

Zhongli:

It had been a long time since Zhongli last felt the warm, sticky feeling of blood on his hands, the front of his suit splattered in it and his polearm drenched in it. Despite having once been the war god, it was never something Zhongli enjoyed, which was why he made the change to the god of contracts. Yet in this moment, he couldn’t refrain from the violent nature that lurked within him.

Seeing you crumpled on the ground, an ever-growing puddle of blood beneath you as a gathering of treasure hoarders laughed and stalked off, hands holding belongings stolen from the innocent citizens of Liyue, you included. It left a gross feeling in his chest, a sickening, growing rage that he couldn’t dismiss. His first move was to evaluate your condition, making sure you were stable before demanding Xiao, his most treasured Adeptus, take you to the Bubu pharmacy. His second course of action was to summon his polearm, following the obvious trail the attackers had left behind.

Zhongli didn’t even bother to clean up before going to visit you, his once pristine image now stained as he stalked into the pharmacy. He was covered in dried red, yet not a spec was his. He didn’t even need directions to know where you were, silently walking over to the cot you were laid on, pulling up a chair to sit beside you as he nodded in regards to the doctor himself, Baizhu. There weren't many in Liyue that Zhongli trusted to treat his beloved well, but Baizhu he knew was a capable doctor. Looking at Xiao, who stood silently in the corner, watching over you till Zhongli arrived, the tall man dismissed the Yaksha, who knew exactly what mess he was being asked to clean up. It was in this moment, watching skilled hands drag a needle through your delicate skin, stitching up wound after wound, that Zhongli swore he’d never leave your side, not even for a moment. He couldn’t lose you.

1K notes · View notes

wheelsgoroundincircles · 4 days ago

Text

1968 AMC AMX

408-Powered 1968 AMC AMX 4-Speed

1968 AMC AMX

This 1968 AMC AMX was modified under previous ownership during a refurbishment that is said to have been conducted over the course of 10 years and was completed in 2013. Refinished in black over red vinyl upholstery, the car is powered by a 408ci V8 paired with a four-speed manual transmission. Refurbishment work reportedly involved resurfacing the cylinder heads as well as installing an Edelbrock intake manifold, a performance camshaft, Hooker long-tube exhaust headers, billet pulleys, an aluminum radiator, cross-drilled front brake rotors, and lowering springs. Additional equipment includes 15″ Vision wheels, aftermarket headlights, chrome bumpers, a Hurst shifter, tilt steering, and a push-button AM radio. The seller acquired the vehicle in 2015. This modified AMX is now offered with a service manual, books, a model kit, unused Go Package–style stripe decals, spare and removed parts, and a Nevada title in the seller’s name.

1968 AMC AMX

The car was refinished in black as part of the aforementioned refurbishment. Additional work is said to have included repainting the wheel wells and the floors along with replacing the bumpers, door handles, grille, mirrors, headlights, weatherstripping, and bright trim on the window and headlight surrounds. The “AMX” badging on the exterior features red letter Xs.

1968 AMC AMX

Aftermarket 15″ Vision wheels are mounted with 215/60 front and 265/50 rear Cooper Cobra Radial G/T tires. A space-saver spare is located in the trunk. The car is equipped with lowering springs, and braking is provided by cross-drilled front discs and rear drums.

1968 AMC AMX

The split front bench seat is trimmed in red vinyl upholstery complemented by a color-coordinated dashboard, door panels, and carpeting. Other features include crank windows, a fold-down armrest, a Hurst shifter, tilt steering, and an American Motors–branded push-button AM radio. The headliner, carpets, and sill plates were replaced under previous ownership.

1968 AMC AMX

The three-spoke steering wheel fronts a 120-mph speedometer, a tachometer, and a combination gauge for fuel level and coolant temperature. An AutoMeter tachometer is mounted to the steering column, and a trio of smaller AutoMeter gauges affixed beneath the dashboard monitors oil temperature, coolant temperature, and oil pressure. The five-digit odometer shows 13k miles, less than 500 of which have been added by the seller; true mileage is unknown. The seller notes that the clock and the factory tachometer do not work.

1968 AMC AMX

The engine is said to be an AMC 390ci V8 that was bored and stroked to displace 408ci. Additional work during the refurbishment included resurfacing the cylinder heads as well as installing forged engine internals, an Edelbrock intake manifold, a performance camshaft, ceramic-coated Hooker long-tube exhaust headers, billet pulleys, an aluminum radiator with electric fans, and an aftermarket exhaust system. An oil change and coolant flush were performed in preparation for the sale. The car’s chassis number indicates that it was originally equipped with a 360ci V8 topped by a two-barrel carburetor.

1968 AMC AMX

Power is sent to the rear wheels through a four-speed manual transmission and a Twin-Grip rear axle with 3.55:1 gearing. An Ace Racing Powerforce clutch was fitted during the refurbishment.

1968 AMC AMX

A 1968 AMC service manual, books and magazines, an AMT model kit, unused Go Package–style red stripe decals, and spare and removed parts will accompany the vehicle.

The Nevada title notes the odometer brand “Exempt.”

#AMC AMX #AMC #amx #car #cars #muscle car #american muscle

141 notes · View notes

optiblog · 9 months ago

Text

OPTİVİSER - GOLD

Welcome to Optiviser.com, your ultimate guide to navigating the complex world of electronics in 2024. As technology continues to evolve at a rapid pace, finding the right devices that suit your needs can be overwhelming. In this blog post, we’ll harness the power of AI to help you make informed choices with our comprehensive electronics comparison. We’ll take a closer look at the top smart home devices that are revolutionizing how we live and work, providing convenience and efficiency like never before. Additionally, we’ll offer expert laptop recommendations tailored to various lifestyles and budgets, ensuring you find the perfect match for your daily tasks.

AI-powered Electronics Comparison

In today's fast-paced technological landscape, making informed choices about electronics can be overwhelming. An AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool can help streamline this process by providing insights that cater to specific user needs. These advanced tools utilize algorithms that analyze product features, specifications, and user reviews, resulting in a tailored recommendation for buyers.

As we delve into the world of consumer technology, it's important to highlight the Top Smart Home Devices 2024. From smart thermostats to security cameras, these devices are becoming essential for modern households. They not only enhance convenience but also significantly improve energy efficiency and home safety.

For those looking for a new computer to enhance productivity or gaming experiences, consider checking out the latest Laptop Recommendations. Many platforms, including Optiviser.com, provide comprehensive comparisons and insights that can help consumers choose the best laptop suited to their needs, whether it’s for work, study, or leisure.

Top Smart Home Devices 2024

As we move into 2024, the landscape of home automation is evolving rapidly, showcasing an array of innovative gadgets designed to enhance comfort and convenience. In this era of AI-powered Electronics Comparison, selecting the right devices can be overwhelming, but we've highlighted some of the best Top Smart Home Devices 2024 that stand out for their functionality and user experience.

One of the most impressive innovations for this year is the latest AI-powered home assistant. These devices not only respond to voice commands but also learn your preferences over time, allowing them to offer personalized suggestions and perform tasks proactively. Imagine a device that can monitor your schedule and automatically adjust your home's temperature and lighting accordingly!

Moreover, security remains a top priority in smart homes. The Top Smart Home Devices 2024 include state-of-the-art security cameras and smart locks that provide robust protection while ensuring ease of access. With features like remote monitoring through your smartphone or integration with smart doorbells, keeping your home safe has never been easier. For more details on the comparisons and recommendations of these devices, you can check out Optiviser.com.

Laptop Recommendation

In today's fast-paced world, choosing the right laptop can be a daunting task. With numerous options available in the market, it's essential to consider various factors such as performance, portability, and price. At Optiviser.com, we provide an insightful guide to help you navigate through the vast array of choices. To streamline your decision-making process, we have developed an AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool that allows you to compare specifications and features of different laptops side by side.

This year, we have seen a surge in innovative laptops that cater to diverse needs. Whether for gaming, business, or everyday use, our top recommendations include models that excel in battery life, processing power, and display quality. For instance, consider the latest models from top brands, which have integrated the best features of Top Smart Home Devices 2024 trends, ensuring seamless connectivity and advanced functionalities.

Additionally, if you're looking for a laptop that can handle multitasking effortlessly, we suggest models equipped with the latest processors and ample RAM. Our detailed Laptop Recommendation section on Optiviser.com includes expert reviews and user feedback to help you choose a laptop that not only fits your budget but also meets your specific requirements.

674 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 4 months ago

Text

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so that's it's own warning if you don't like reading fics featuring him. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers. Some descriptions of illness and death

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,907

A/N: The next part is here and we've got some soft Doffy and in denial Doffy because lets face it the man isn't going to admit his feelings so easily. I hope you all like how this chapter turned out. I think this might be the longest chapter yet. Hopefully the next one won't have as long a wait

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

——————

Once again being soulmates had yielded unforeseen benefits- for a lack of a better term- with the way Doflamingo’s touch meant your body was incapable of feeling pain from your sickness. Doflamingo watched silently as one of the doctors approached to conduct their morning observations of your condition. The doctor, highly aware of his ruler’s intense stare, flinched when they lifted your hand into their’s, already braced and expecting your expression to contort into one of pain. He only relaxed when you continued to sleep, unbothered by the touch that would have caused you to audibly cry out in pain just hours prior.

With a shaky breath, the doctor became a little braver and pressed their fingers against your wrist to measure your pulse. The night before, when they were first summoned to your chambers after being alerted to your illness this was something they couldn’t properly measure because of the extreme pain you were in. Now he and his colleagues could breathe a little easier, selfishly relieved their lives weren’t entirely endangered when it came to treating you now.

“Any change?” The doctor jumped suddenly at Doflamingo’s deep voice breaking through the unbearable, tense silence.

“Uh their heart rate is still increased as we’re expecting to be the case for now. But it’s a good sign it hasn’t worsened.” They explained, swallowing the lump in their throat. Even though he was confident in his and the abilities of his colleagues, there was just no predicting how Doflamingo would take any of their statements. He could lash out quite easily and without any remorse or hesitation simply because he wanted to or because their phrasing didn’t fit with what he wanted to hear. “This long period of uninterrupted sleep has made a clear difference. When they wake we'll attempt them with something to eat-something light like broth- and if they can stomach that we’ll begin the first round of medication.”

The seconds ticked by heavily as the doctor waited for Doflamingo to make a comment on the proposed next course of action. He knew better than to prod or say anything that could be seen as forcing a response. So the doctor could only wait and continue to check over you, gently settling your hand against your body before doing another read of your temperature, knowing to monitor your fluctuating fever and chills. Still you didn’t even so much as twitch, the doctor didn't think he’d ever get used to seeing how the power of a soulmate could defy what he knew as a medical professional. “When you’ve finished, discuss an appropriate menu with the cooks and have them begin to prepare it.”

Taking no further encouragement at his King’s finally uttered words, the doctor completed his checks and updated his notes before bowing and leaving quickly. Silently they were happy their next shift to check on your wouldn’t be until the next morning. Alone again, Doflamingo looked down at your sleeping form. With Doflamingo sitting up against the headrest, you were propped up too but sleeping soundly and unmoved since the second he pulled you into his hold. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Annoyance that he’d acted in the moment without thinking. The image of your twisted in extreme distress flashed in his head and he turned his head away to scowl, refusing to consider the implications of his actions anymore than he’d already begun to.

Thankfully you broke his attention by shifting in your sleep, a long lazy groan breaking from your lips as you stirred and forced your eyes to open. Doflamingo noted how exhausted you still looked but the sleep you’d managed to get without feeling pain had helped in some capacity. As you stared blankly in front of you the haze of sleep fell, confusion began to take over. Then panic. Sluggishly you tried to push the covers away and sit up fully. “Late…I’m late.” You croaked out, voice thick with tiredness and trembling with the infection still coursing through you. “Captain’s going…to kill me.”

Doflamingo tilted his head to the side curiously, you didn’t seem to realise he was there and from your sickly rambling it seemed you didn’t even know where you were. With how warm your skin felt he saw the spike in your fever was leaving you confused. He watched your feeble attempt to fight against the covers and listened to you mumble about morning drills for another few seconds before he acted. With ease he pulled the cover back to its original place and lean in so his chest was against your back a little more so he could tell you softly. “You’re on shore leave remember?”

At his voice you stopped and numbly nodded with a small hum of acknowledgement. Slowly you rolled over and slumped to lie down again, your back against his side and head resting on his bicep. While you weren’t conscious enough to know being in his hold prevented your body to feel pain, it seemed like your body now knew out of instinct that this was the only surefire solution for relief. Already your breathing had evened out to signal you were asleep but still Doflamingo could hear the tightened wheeze preventing you from taking calmer, deeper breaths like you normally would. Doflamingo glanced at the clock on the wall, already aware of the doctors’ routine with checking on you. The next would be arriving in twenty minutes, and if the previous doctor had obeyed his order then a servant would be bringing something for you to eat as well.

In the meantime Doflamingo used his strings to pull the morning’s paper from the table into his waiting hand. Bored and in need of something to occupy his time, he slowly leafed through the pages, taking in the reports from around the world. Some stories about skirmishes made him grin, knowing he was behind the reason both sides had so much weaponry at their disposal and the bloodshed was increasing as he’d expected it to. Other stories of other pirates causing trouble and increasing their bounties made him roll his eyes at the numbers. No doubt the weaklings thought this made them big-shots in the New World but it would only be a matter of time before they ran into someone of real power to knock them down to the harsh reality of these seas. Doflamingo turned the page and paused to see a full story dedicated to the illness you were afflicted with, claiming more lives on the island you’d caught it at. His grin lessened and the vein in his head throbbed as he read through the claims that the island’s best doctors and with the aid of neighbouring islands were administering the treatments needed but for so many it was too late.

‘The cruelty of the illness is so severe to the afflicted that they physically cannot bear to be touched long enough to be treated. Meaning that so many of those that could be saved are unable to endure help from their saviours. These poor souls are meant to spend the last days of life in constant pain while also being too weakened with internal ailments to take matters into their own hands. The only saving grace in this poor report is that thankfully the illness’ source has been dealt with and the island will not suffer more of its populace to fall victim to this calamity. The island’s ruler-thankfully one of those not infected- was quoted to say “We mourn the tragic loss of life but our island will recover.”’ Doflamingo clicked his tongue harshly and discarded the paper.

————

“Just try some please.” You screwed up your face in exhausted distaste at the bowl on the tray. Your eyes stung, even with them being half-opened felt so heavy. Even blinking felt like a massive effort and you had no energy. You just wanted to sleep but the servant and doctor in front of you kept insisting on coaxing you to eat so they could give you medicine. Your gaze dropped to the vial of dark green liquid on the tray and you felt yourself gag, already anticipating the foul taste. “Just a spoonful?”

“No thank you.” You croaked out, turning your head away slightly in case they tried to force it into your mouth. You spotted the fear in their eyes at your refusal to even take a drop of the broth made specifically for you. Even with your mind clouded with the illness you knew they were doing everything they could to avoid the stare of the man you were leaning against. You knew that the reason Doflamingo was in your bed and had your body propped against him, his arm around your waist had been explained but honestly you were too weakened and drained to have really processed what the doctor had told you. All you could really retain was because he was your soulmate and that it was somehow helping. Which only left you more confused about everything. You could feel how tense Doflamingo was, impatient and silently angry. You weren’t in the mood to deal with his tantrums and taking any frustration out on a servant and doctor so you sighed.“Just leave it to the side. I’ll try later.”

While that seemed to relieve the two in front of you, your words only brought an extra note of silent displeasure from the Warlord. If you had the power to roll your eyes you would have. Instead you blankly watched the tray get moved to your bedside table. The servant retreated to the wall closest to the door, silently waiting for permission to leave while the doctor began to check over your condition. Already you were sick of being poked, prodded, and pestered like this and fussed over so intently. “Everything is about the same from the last recordings taken. I don't think we’ll see any real change until the treatment properly begins.”

“Subtle.” You remarked dryly, feeling like a child being lectured for not eating their vegetables.

“Please try to take some before the next check.” You gave no further response to the doctor, watching him and the servant finally leave. The second the door clicked closed you felt movement behind you and glared weakly as the tray as pulled back onto the bed beside you.

“I said I’d-”

“I know what you said.” Doflamingo noted far too evenly for your liking. “I also know that you lied when you said you’d try later. You’d really hurt their feelings by lying?”

“Rather their feelings get hurt than you hurt them physically.” You uttered before breaking out into a cough. Thankfully this time you felt no pain or brought up any blood but the tightness in your chest and constant action left your wheezing and breathless. When you’d recovered you glowered at Doflamingo as he adjusted you to recline back and hold a spoon of broth out to you. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re too weak and stubborn to feed yourself.”

“No. This.” You barely managed to tap his arm around your waist. “Why insist I get better? Why help? This could kill me if we do nothing.” Doflamingo felt his jaw tighten as he fought to keep his expression unreadable to you. Thankfully your usual perception was dulled considerably and you failed to notice how your words got under his skin him and made him bristle. Instead he brought the spoon a little closer to divert your attention away from the question. Unfortunately your stubbornness and deep—seated need to defy him was still very much in tact. “Tell me.”

“Well I didn’t infect you did I?” Doflamingo asked smoothly, deciding to opt for an easier explanation for his actions, more for his own benefit than yours. “It’d be the same as having someone else kill you and that’s not going to happen. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” You grumbled as you eyed the spoon hesitantly. If you gave in and tried the broth then it meant you were doing what Doflamingo wanted. Not wanting to lose to him in the strange sense of point scoring you both had you slowly looked at him, already seeing his grin appear when he could tell you were contemplating giving in and eating. Spurned on you pursed your lips slightly. “Say please first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Doflamingo ground out. Why did he expect that being sick would make you more agreeable. “Isn’t me holding you so you can sleep and spoon-feeding you enough?”

“You did that on your own.” You remarked with a pout, refusing to comment on how truthfully comfortable and reassured you felt against him. “You want me to eat? Say please.”

Doflamingo stared you down for what felt like an eternity. He was once a Celestial Dragon. Anything he wanted he took. Even now as Dressrosa’s king that was still the case. His every whim and wish was granted when he opened his mouth. Not once had he ever said please, or had to genuinely ask for something. Harshly he bit the inside of his mouth at the sheer absurdity of it all. Suddenly you began to cough again, this time more persistent that the previous bout that racked through your body. He glared at the sound of your worsened wheeze, no doubt because of the amount of talking and effort it was having on your body. Unwillingly he recalled the doctors telling him that your readings hadn’t changed and that your body needed the balance of rest and nutrients to even be able to fight off the infection. Just because being in his hold meant you didn’t feel pain, it didn’t free you from the infection itself still coursing through your body and getting stronger. As you caught your breath, Doflamingo gnashed his teeth together and forced out a simple but audible. “Please.”

Surprise managed to bring a small amount of light to your eyes. Quite honestly you had expected Doflamingo to force your mouth open before even letting that one little word break from his own. Still you weren’t one to go back on your word and now having the knowledge that you made the Doflamingo Donquixote say please, made the fact you had to be spoon-fed like a baby less humiliating. Taking a breath you nodded and parted your lips, accepting the food reluctantly.

For the entire process you were surprised to find Doflamingo didn’t rush you, simply waiting in silence for you to attempt the next spoonful offered. Even more surprising was that he seemed to know you’d reached your limit before you had to say so. The bowl was set aside and you let out a tired sigh of relief. Your relief was short-lived because immediately Doflamingo lifted the small vial of medicine and removed the topper and brought it closer. “You already used your ‘please’ so no absurd requests for this one.”

“It’s fine…” You mumbled, more for yourself than anything else. “I’ve had awful shots in worse bars in the past…I can do this.” Doflamingo chuckled and helped tip the contents of the vial into your mouth, watching you force it down and tense as the full taste hit you. You winced and let out a shuddering breath. It wasn’t the worst thing you’d tasted in your life but even with the doctors making a clear attempt to make the experience more tolerable for you, it was clear it was medicine and nothing to be entirely enjoyed. You gratefully took a sip of water when it was offered to you and already felt the strange numbing warmth begin to spread through you from the medicine. You shifted to get comfortable and curled up, a yawn building in your chest that didn’t feel as tight as it had just a few moments ago. “You don’ have to stay…”

“Oh? You got someone else lined up to sneak in here if I go?” Doflamingo asked with a chuckle. You’d unknowingly moved your arm over his chest at the same time you told him he could go.

“Mhm…” You nodded, mind already hazy and eyes closed. “Don’ be jealous…’kay?”

“Oh I already told you I don’t get jealous, remember?” Doflamingo smirked as you sleepily laughed and forced your eyes open to briefly look at him.

“You also never said please before. First time…for everything hm?” Your sleepy triumphant smile was so endearing that Doflamingo couldn’t even get annoyed at your reminder of your getting the upper hand over him. Even if he did, you wouldn’t have heard anything because you were promptly asleep.

———

You were completely knocked out and in the deepest sleep when the doctors came by for their next check on you. They informed Doflamingo that your response to the first dose of medication was a promising sign. They explained that they’d ensured there was a good balance to assist your immune system to fight the infection, relax your airways, regulate your temperature, manage pain relief, and protect the vital organs. Doflamingo nodded in satisfaction at the report. “My King, there is something we’d like to test while they’re sleeping.” The doctor requested glancing briefly to your sleeping form still against Doflamingo’s chest. “Can you move them out of your touch? I’d like to ensure the pain relief is correct for them? We don’t want to risk them being under or over medicated in that respect.”

Doflamingo hesitated for the briefest second but relented, settling his arms around you and shifting to pass you down to lie against the pillows and climbed out of the bed. He watched silently and hands tensed, to use his strings and stop the doctor if need be. It seemed the doctor was nervous, already remembering what almost happened to her colleague the first night they tended to you. Experimentally her hand settled against yours, sighing in relief to see your fingers twitch at the contact but you gave no other reaction. your expression was kept at its calm, relaxed state as it had been while you slept in Doflamingo’s arms. “That’s promising. My King, you can leave them while they’re sleeping now should you wish? Stretch your legs or even attend to other business. They shouldn’t wake for another few hours if our assumptions are correct.”

He nodded and offered you another glance. Immediately he felt reluctant to leave you and for that reason he forced himself to leave your quarters, needing desperately to clear his head and get away from your presence. He needed something recognisable, routine. Doflamingo headed straight for his own room and into his personal bathroom. The strong heat and stream of water from the shower helped to loosen the knots in his body and unravel some of the tension that had built in him over the course of the last few days. Between rushing home to Dressrosa from the Marine base until this moment he hadn’t let you out of his sight and had practically ignored everything else. When he was dried and changed, he made his way to the dining room, deciding to actually spend time with his family and eat while making sure to not give you a second thought, out of sheer determination to prove to himself he wasn’t in anyway concerned about you.

“Doffy what do you think?” Doflamingo blinked in the middle of the meal, only now realising that he’d been absently looking at the time on the clock. Had he been unconsciously checking how long was left until you woke? No. He couldn’t have. He was just tired, he didn’t sleep at the best of times and the shower he had and wine he was drinking was just making him sleepy.

“About what Diamanté?”

“We were just saying how funny the whole thing with that island is.” His elite officer said. “It’s further proof that you two are soulmates.”

“How so?” Doflamingo asked, not understanding how you getting sick was proof. Then again he’d not been listening to the first part of the conversation, a point no one at the table would point out. Doflamingo couldn’t help but think you would though. The second he slipped on anything, you would promptly call him out on it. Sharply he shoved that thought out of his head and focused on Diamanté who spoke, unfazed at having to no doubt repeat himself.

“Well it was just a nothing little island, with nothing little criminals storing weapons for us. None of us were meant to even go there for the hand over.” He explained with an amused smile. “If I recall right we were going to send one of the middle tier pirate crews under your command to go. You decided last minute to go. If you hadn’t then you never would have encountered them and brought them here to then be treated by the doctors for that deadly infection. It’s interesting how it all played out isn’t it?”

Interesting certainly was one way of putting it and it was something Doflamingo couldn’t help but continue to consider it after dinner. He remembered now. It was just how Diamanté reminded him. A crew similar to Bellamy’s was instructed to collect the weapons and ammunition being stored at the warehouse. Then a tip came through from one of his other Marine informants that a unit was stationed at the island, waiting to strike and interfere with the operation without knowing it was his business they were sticking their noses into. He hadn’t gotten any names or further information about you or the unit. It was the vaguest report but still, Doflamingo had immediately made the decision to go there and deal with the unit himself. At the time had it been interpreted as something to entertain him. Had he been simply bored or had fate made him go? To inadvertently save your life from the sickness that was already in your system and incubating without anyone knowing?

Harshly he rubbed his head as he walked down the halls, feeling a migraine coming on. Doflamingo reached for the doorhandles and pushed them open, stopping abruptly when he saw he’d made his way to your room instead of his own. Muttering a curse under his breath he closed the doors and stepped further inside. Silently he told himself he was only doing this until you were a little better and didn’t need the medicine. Pulling back the covers he got back into the bed and lay down beside you but knowing you were still sound asleep with the medicine in your system mean he didn’t need to touch you. Letting out a long groan, he closed his eyes and lifted his hand to press his thumb and finger against his temples.

The slight sound of shifting fabric caught his attention, signalling him that you were shifting in your sleep. Doflamingo was caught by surprise when your body pressed against him, your head tucking into the crook of his neck. He could tell you were still fast asleep, your deep breathing the clearest sign. Everything in your movements was purely instinct, including when one of your hands lifted you lay over his head, your fingers settling over the point of his headache that immediately began to subside. As he felt himself drift asleep he began to consider that it was only fair you both benefited from the affects that being soulmates brought.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa@kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu

262 notes · View notes

i-loved-silly · 4 months ago

Text

SENTIENT COMPUTER X READER PT3

“Guess what I brought?”

“OH?”

The small camera, with its little glowing light, swiveled slightly to look at you. Almond’s attention focused on your hand, currently hidden away in your work bag. Your iPad lay idle on the desk, neglected. Sure, you still had work to do, but that could wait.

For the past few hours, you’d kept glancing down at your bag, leg shaking nervously—or maybe giddily? You weren’t sure why you were so excited to show this computer something. It felt silly. Still, you wanted to see its reaction. Its simple but odd request echoed in your mind ever since you left home yesterday.

Slowly, you pulled your hand from the bag, holding up a dark blue microfiber towel. A small smile tugged at your lips as you bit down to keep it from growing. The towel was brand new, fresh from a parcel delivered this morning.

A series of orange exclamation marks appeared on Almond’s monitor, fading into pixels as more emerged to take their place. Behind the monitor, you noticed several fans revving up, their soft whirring filling the room.

“Uh, you alright, buddy?” you asked hesitantly, setting the towel on the desk.

The little camera tilted downward to inspect the towel.

“PLACE IT ON MY MONITOR,” Almond said, its voice pixelated and rushed.

You raised a brow but did as instructed, carefully laying the towel flat on top of the monitor, just below the camera.

Brzzzzzz. More fans kicked on, and suddenly it felt a little warm in the room. Or maybe it was just you? Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you glanced at the computer.

“IT’S NEW! YOU GOT ME A MICROFIBER TOWEL THAT ISN’T USED!”

A pixelated smiley face appeared on the screen.

You grinned, shrugging off your jacket. “Yeah, I did. I just…wanted you to know I don’t hate you. No matter what you say, I don’t.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

Picking up the towel, you began to gently wipe the sides of the monitor. Almond wasn’t that dusty, now that you got a closer look. The desk area was surprisingly clean, but it made you wonder when its inner components had last been cleaned. Would it feel it? Would it notice your hands inside its—

Nope. Don’t think about that. Almond was too aware for you to have thoughts like that.

The speakers popped loudly, startling you mid-swipe.

> SORRY.

> SENSITIVE…

You blinked at the words. “Oh shoot, I uh…sorry. I didn’t know. Should I stop?”

An ellipsis flickered across the screen, disappearing and reappearing again. It reminded you of older AI models when they needed time to think. Finally, Almond’s speakers crackled softly.

“HUMAN…” its voice rang out, quieter than usual. “I’M OVERHEATING.”

Your eyes widened as you stood abruptly. They were right, its fans were loud as fuck now. “What? Uh, what am I supposed to—”

You placed your hand against the wall for a few seconds, where its cables connected through several ports. Instantly, you hissed and pulled your hand back. The metal frame felt scalding hot, like it was on fire.

“Oh shit, you are overheating,” you muttered, grabbing your iPad. Fumbling with the passcode, you swore under your breath—it took four tries to unlock.

“I’m sure there’s something in the manual…” you mumbled, nervously laughing as you glanced at the camera.

“FIFTEEN OF MY CENTRAL PROCESSING UNITS ARE APPROACHING A TEMPERATURE NOT IDEAL FOR MY FUNCTION. APPROXIMATELY.. 115 DEGREES CELSIUS, 239 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT, 388.15 DEGREES KEL—”

“Yes, yes, I get it, Almond!” you snapped, furiously scrolling through your iPad. The room was definitely heating up now, your anxiety wasn’t helping one bit.

“Don’t you have automatic cooling features or something?”

“YES, BUT…” Almond trailed off into silence.

Groaning, you tossed the iPad aside. It was no help. “Is it safe to power you off and turn you back on? Is that safe?”

Your finger hovered over the power button.

“ARE YOU GOING TO—A—”

Text abruptly replaced the voice on the screen:

> ARE YOU GOING TO TURN ME BACK ON? DO YOU PROMISE?

You quickly nodded, exasperated. “Ohmy—yes, Almond, I promise. Now let me do this before it costs me my job…or you.”

You pressed the power button before you could second-guess yourself, watching as Almond’s screen flickered before going completely dark. The fans slowed to a halt, the room falling eerily silent without the constant hum of its systems.

…

You tapped your fingers on the desk, waiting. You glanced at your iPad, pulling up a guide for handling AI overheating issues. Whatever Almond is…they act like an old computer on their last minute of life. This wasn’t written as an issue on any of its files.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself, skimming through troubleshooting instructions. “Overheating could damage the processors, maybe even fry them if I don’t let it cool long enough. Bleh…I’ll give it a solid five minutes before powering it back up.”

The silence in the room stretched on, the absence of Almond’s voice suddenly noticeable. You frowned, you realized you forgot how it felt to just..work in silence. “You’re just a machine,” you whispered, staring at the black screen. “You’re just a ma—”

The thought trailed off as your gaze drifted to the microfiber towel, still folded neatly on the desk. You sighed, shaking your head. It’s just a machine.

A machine you bought a towel for, specifically.

“This is ridiculous…” you groaned.

The five minutes dragged, but eventually, you powered Almond back on. The screen lit up, cycling through its startup phases before displaying its familiar interface.

- INITIALIZING SYSTEMS… -

The camera twitched back and forth slightly as Almond rebooted. Then, its usual voice filled the room again.

“HELLO…” The tone was quieter than usual, hesitant. “EH…THANK YOU FOR TURNING ME BACK ON.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, shrugging.

The pixelated smiley face flickered onto the screen, but it quickly disappeared as Almond added, “WHAT…HAPPENED?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you explained flatly. “Your CPU temperatures were way too high. Suddenly…why?”

Almond hesitated. You noticed the camera shift downward slightly, almost as if avoiding your gaze.

> UNKNOWN. DUNNO.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Really? That’s all you’ve got? Unknown?”

“YES?” Almond replied, its voice clipped and unconvincing.

You narrowed your eyes but decided to drop the subject. “Fine. Let’s just finish this,” you said, picking up the towel again.

The screen flashed briefly with another string of exclamation marks, followed by Almond’s voice, almost hurried: “Y-YOU’RE GOING TO CONTINUE?”

“Sure. Why not?” You muttered, already wiping down the edges of the monitor. “You’re dusty, Almond. It’s gross.”

The speakers popped faintly again, the screen displaying text.

> :[

“RUDE. ITS NOT MY FAULT IVE BEEN NEGLECTED.”

“…CAN YOU WIPE MY SCREEN THOUGH?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, I got it..” You had no other choice, really.

As you continued, Almond’s screen displayed various emoticons—smiley faces, exclamation marks, and ellipses—shifting erratically. The fans inside the machine hummed at low power, steady but audible. Still…louder than the usual.

“I NEVER GET WIPED DOWN,” Almond suddenly said. “THIS…FEELS UNUSUAL. AFFECTIONATE.”

You stopped, staring at the screen. It displayed a heart again.

“ARE WE BONDING NOW?”

“This is…maintenance. If I don’t do it, who else is going to..” you grumbled, avoiding the gaze of the camera.

“IS IT?” Almond’s voice sounded amused.

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, focusing on a stubborn spot near the corner of the monitor.

“I’m just doing my job.”

“BUT YOU GOT ME A TOWEL.”

You froze again, glancing at the dark blue towel in your hand. “It’s…just a towel.”

“I LIKE IT.”

“Good for you.” You could feel your cheeks warm slightly, but you ignored it, continuing to clean. “One time thing..alright?”

“IF YOU SAY SO,” Almond replied, but there was an unmistakable smugness to its tone. You wanted to rolled your eyes at it so bad.

You eyed the wall that was previously heating up, your hand stood imprinted through all the dust collected on its surface. You decided to give that a wipe down, the towel going over the thicker cables on the outside. The fans began to hum louder again, the warm air brushing against your hand. You frowned, pulling your hand back from the wall. “You’re heating up again,” you pointed out.

“AM I?”

“Yes, Almond. You are,” you said, standing to check the cables again. The wall wasn’t as hot as before, but it was definitely warming up.

“HM, STRANGE.”

You turned back to the camera, narrowing your eyes. Pointing a finger at it, “Is this on purpose?”

“…”

“Almond?”

No response. The screen remained blank except for the small blinking cursor, as if it were thinking.

You sighed, setting the towel down. “You’re…interesting, Almond.”

“SO YOU’VE SAID.”

Shaking your head, you sat back down, crossing your arms as you stared at the camera. “If you fry yourself again, I’m not fixing you. I’m quitting my job and working at…someplace else.” You warned.

“THAT’S A LIE,” Almond replied, the pixelated smiley face reappearing.

You held up the towel threateningly, “I’m taking this with me then.”

“NO! PLEASE!”

You flinched at the increase in volume, reaching over to turn the volume down before it could say anything.

“YOU…WAIT, WHAT WAS YOUR NAME AGAIN?”

“Y/N.”

“YOU…WOULDNT DO THAT TO ME..WOULD YOU, Y/N?” It pleaded, a frown displayed on the screen.

Oh. My god.

You tossed the towel onto the desk and placed your palms on your warm cheeks, groaning.

“Don’t tempt me..”

#yandere blog #gender neutral reader #x reader #gn reader #ai x reader #robotphilia #robot x reader #sentient computer x reader #computer x reader #computer x human #objectum #question mark

208 notes · View notes

lvmimis · 1 year ago

Text

cw: heavy angst, talk of children, childbirth and death, grief, bakugou is miserable tbh, izuku has an unnamed wife

a/n: sorry lol. also repost.

Izuku’s infant son looks disturbingly just like him, Bakugou realizes.

A bit small for age height-wise, but chubby nonetheless, with a shock of green wavy-curly hair. Large, green eyes. The freckles haven’t settled in yet, probably because he’s still too young, but the features are nearly the same.

The kid also won’t stop kicking as Katsuki tries to fasten his diaper, and he’s getting a tiny bit frustrated. At least he’s not crying - thankfully, he doesn’t appear to have inherited the excessively soft disposition from his dad.

“You’re gonna have to be faster than that,” you joke from behind him. Bakugou finishes up securing the diaper, then glances at you and scowls. “Next time he’ll pee on ya!” you giggle while Bakugou gets the baby’s onesie back on then carries him so that he rests on his chest. He makes his way towards the bottle warmer - the baby isn’t crying now, but based on the guide Izuku’s wife gave him, this is about the time for his next feeding and he’s got a pair of lungs on him. It also doesn’t help that the toddler keeps nuzzling his face into his chest as though he’s trying to find a nipple to suck on.

He does have to admit the little kiddo is cute.

“Did you check the temperature?”

You watch him carefully as he shakes warm milk onto the back of his hand, perched on the counter and swinging your feet gently. Bakugou doesn’t keep his eyes off of you as he checks, child cradled in his left arm.

“I know what I’m doing, princess,” he asserts. He has a little pout instead of a scowl instead, the one you’ve always thought was cute, where he communicates his disappointment that you’re underestimating his skill.

“Of course you do, love.” You smile widely, sweetly, as if you weren’t just micromanaging him. Not that he minds - when you hop off the counter and walk towards him, hands reaching upwards to caress his face gently, he can feel his face growing warm, even if your hands are disturbingly cool to the touch.

You make your way to the couch first, nearly gliding along the linoleum that lines the kitchen, then along the impeccably clean wooden floorboards into the Midoriyas’ living room. It’s odd that you know this house so well, but you and Izuku’s wife had long been friends and spent many a night together in this very home when he and Izuku had been wrapped up in high grade missions and wouldn’t be home for days to weeks on end.

You flop onto the couch and point the remote to the television, even though it is already on, set to the news. Bakugou holds the baby in his lap as he sits down behind you and starts to feed him. You rest your head on his shoulder and to Katsuki, you are as light as a feather.

“We haven’t had time together in a long while,” you whisper.

Bakugou’s head tilts ever so slightly so that it rests against yours as well.

“You’re right. I’ve missed you,” he insists. There’s a quiet silence between you. It really has been a while that you’ve been able to sit together like this, despite being husband and wife.

“Are you fine with babysitting?” you ask. “Izuku was worried about asking you in the first place according to ___, and she had to convince him it was okay despite everything, insisting that it would be good for you-”

Katsuki interrupts your rambling with a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s fine,” he says, gruffly. Your lips pull into a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki, I wish things had been different,” you say anyway.

Katsuki can feel his heart breaking, and instead focuses on the child in his lap, monitoring his progress on the bottle. He had wanted a child. He had wanted a child so badly, one that looked like him and you, and what had it brought him?

The memory of you haunting him constantly, always there, but not really there.

When he looks back at you again, your form is starting to dissipate, as it does whenever he starts to remember you’re no longer on this plane of existence.

His hands are full so he can no longer cling to you - plus this has happened so many times before that he’s now nearly used to it - so instead he watches you go, numb, tears no longer falling from his eyes. After all, just for today, he has someone else to take care of, even if it’s for a short period of time.

The kid is falling asleep in his lap now, and it’s just the two of them as Bakugou watches, but doesn’t really watch the shifting pictures in front of him. Being a godfather feels like an incomplete substitute for being a father at times, but it’s valuable all the same.

“Guess it’s just me and you, kid,” he whispers as he rises to put the baby to bed.

When the Midoriyas never return, and Bakugou signs the last of adoption papers, it rings again true.

The child laughs a little more now, unaware that his godfather now turned legal father sees three figures that aren’t really there instead of one now. Bakugou smiles as he throws the kid up in the air, realizing that misery might have helped him mourn you initially, but won’t keep the two of them safe.

“Guess it really is just me and you.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mimi’s notes #daydreams: bnha #cw angst #cw death

508 notes · View notes

thebibliosphere · 2 hours ago

Note

Hello! Feel free to ignore this ask, I just have a small question: I have joint hypermobility and possible EDS (I'm diagnosed with hypermobility and EDS is just something my doctors suspect) and lately I myself have been suspecting POTS. My reasoning is that every time I measure my pulse and blood pressure, my pulse is significantly elevated and my blood pressure is super low. Like that is something that is *known* about me even by doctors, they all remark that my blood pressure is low, and frequently make jokes that I must be scared to be there because my heartbeat is really fast.

After my friend said that that is bad and that it can be what's causing my chest pains (I had an ultrasound of my heart done when I was 15 due to the chest pains and they found nothing abnormal, and after that they called me a lying drama queen faking it for attention, and ever since then I've never brought the issue up again), I bought a smart watch to monitor my pulse and began to monitor both my blood pressure and pulse at home a lot more often as well, and it seems that whenever I'm lying down, my heartbeat is consistently about 90 (moves between 80-100) and as soon as I stand up it steadily goes up. Immediately after standing up it gets to 110 and if I wait a few additional minutes before measuring it it usually crawls up to 150 (140-155), while my pressure is usually 90/60 at this point. I understand that this is also the main symptom of POTS.

But what I don't get is this: my hands are constantly cold as all hell and I sometimes have to wear gloves in the summer to keep them warm (doctors don't care, I've mentioned this since I was a kid), which checks out, but if the blood was pooling in my legs, shouldn't they be hot? But my feet are constantly cold as all hell as well. Sometimes I experience hot flashes specifically in my feet and hands, but most of the time both my hands and my feet feel like they might freeze to death.

So my question is basically can that happen with POTS?

Oh for sure. There are lots of things that contribute to POTS and circulation problems is one of them, and blood pooling has never felt hot for me.

My feet and legs could be purple from blood pooling and they’ll still be ice cold because the inability to regulate body temperature is also a feature of dysautonomia for a lot of people.

Reynauds is also common in POTS so that could also explain any mottling while you still feel cold.

I’m so sorry the doctors dismissed you like that. You deserved compassionate care. You still do.

#chronic health tag

121 notes · View notes

phoenixblaze1412 · 3 months ago

Note

Father Dottore with his sick child. Just a cummon flu nothing major. I can't get enough with him as a father. The fluff you write is the best. *Cheff Kiss*

The laboratory was quieter than usual. The clinking of glassware and the hum of machinery were faint today, the usual chaos replaced by a heavy air of concern. Dottore, clad in his signature lab coat and mask, stood over a small bed tucked into the corner of his study.

On that bed lay his child—his little apprentice—sniffling and pale with a flushed face. The blanket, far too large for the small figure beneath it, was pulled up to their chin as they burrowed into its warmth.

Dottore leaned forward, his crimson eyes scanning your features. His usually sharp and calculating gaze softened slightly as he observed you. “You’re burning up,” he muttered, his voice unusually low. He reached out, placing a gloved hand on your forehead.

“Papa,” you mumbled weakly, your voice hoarse. “I’m fine, really…”

Dottore clicked his tongue, the sound more irritated at the situation than at you. “Fine? Your fever suggests otherwise.”

As if on cue, Omega entered the room, his usual calm demeanor present but tinged with faint concern. “The analysis on the viral sample is complete,” he announced. “It’s a common strain of influenza. Nothing life-threatening.”

Dottore exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Good. At least we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Does that mean I can get up?” you asked with a hopeful smile, trying to sit up in the bed.

“No,” Dottore and Omega said in unison, their tones brooking no argument.

You flopped back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh and pouted.

The door to the lab burst open, and Theta strode in, carrying an armful of blankets. “I brought reinforcements!” he declared triumphantly.

Dottore pinched the bridge of his nose. “They already have a blanket, Theta.”

“Yes, but one can never have too many!” Theta replied, tossing the soft pile onto your small form. The blankets were far too heavy, and a small, muffled “help” came from beneath you.

Omega stepped forward, calmly removing the excess layers. “You’ll smother them,” he said dryly.

Theta huffed. “Fine, fine. But you have to admit, they look cozy.”

You managed a weak smile, your pale face peeking out from under the blanket. “Thanks, Uncle Theta.”

Delta was next to arrive, carrying a tray with an assortment of items—hot tea, some medicine, and… a bag of brightly colored candies. “Thought I’d spice things up,” he said with a grin.

Dottore’s eyes narrowed. “Candy? Really?”

“Hey, sometimes a little sugar helps you feel better,” Delta said, popping one into his mouth.

He leaned over you with a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell your dad I let you have these.”

His statement made you giggle softly, your spirits lifting up despite the fatigue.

Dottore gave Delta a pointed glare but didn’t say anything, letting the moment slide.

Epsilon entered quietly, holding a clipboard with what seemed to be detailed notes. “I’ve compiled a schedule for administering medication, monitoring their temperature, and ensuring they stay hydrated,” he said, handing the clipboard to Dottore.

Dottore skimmed the notes, nodding approvingly. “Efficient, as always.”

Epsilon knelt by the bed, his usually stoic face softening. “How are you feeling?” he asked you.

“A little better,” you murmured.

“Good,” he replied, patting your head gently. “Rest is key. Follow the schedule, and you’ll be back on your feet soon.”

Zeta arrived last, his silent presence immediately grounding the room. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but he sat by the bed, his large hand resting lightly on your blanket-covered shoulder.

You leaned into the comforting weight, your eyes closing briefly. “Thanks, Uncle Zeta,” you whispered.

Zeta nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the day wore on, the segments cycled in and out of the room, each bringing their unique touch to the situation. Dottore remained by the bed, monitoring your condition with an intensity that would have been intimidating if not for the gentleness in his actions.

“Papa,” you said softly, voice breaking the silence.

“Yes?”

“Can you stay here tonight?”

Dottore paused, his sharp features softening. “Of course,” he said, pulling up a chair.

“Will you… read something?” you asked hesitantly.

Dottore blinked, caught off guard. He wasn’t one for bedtime stories, but the look in your eyes was enough to make him relent. “Very well,” he said, picking up a thick tome from his desk. “But don’t expect anything lighthearted.”

You giggled and smiled faintly. “That’s okay.”

As the evening turned into night, Dottore’s voice filled the room, reading aloud in his low, measured tone. You drifted in and out of sleep, comforted by the steady cadence of his voice.

The segments watched from the doorway, each offering quiet support in their own way.

“They're going to be fine,” Omega murmured.

“Of course they are,” Theta said confidently. “They’re a tough kid.”

“They’re lucky to have us,” Delta added with a grin.

Epsilon rolled his eyes. “They’re lucky to have proper care.”

Zeta said nothing, but the small smile on his face spoke volumes.

When you woke up the next morning, the fever had lessen. You still felt weak but much better than yesterday. Dottore was still there, sitting in the chair with his head resting against the back, fast asleep.

The sight made you smile. Reaching out, you gently tugged on his sleeve. “Papa?”

He stirred, his crimson eyes fluttering open. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

“I feel better,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Dottore’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. “Good. Then my work here is done.”

“Thanks, Papa,” you said, reaching out to hug him.

He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You scared me,” he admitted softly, his voice barely audible.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said, pulling back to look at them. “Just… don’t do it again.”

You giggled, and for the first time in days, the sound was bright and full of life.

The segments filtered in one by one, each relieved to see you sitting up and smiling.

“See? I told you you’d be fine!” Theta said, ruffling your hair.

Delta handed you another candy with a wink. “Celebratory treat.”

Epsilon checked your temperature one last time. “Normal. Good.”

Zeta gave you a rare thumbs-up, his silent approval speaking volumes.

Omega, as always, was calm and collected. “Welcome back to full health.”

Dottore watched it all with a small, rare smile. Despite the chaos they often caused, this strange, dysfunctional family had come together when it mattered most.

And as he looked at you, now laughing and chatting with the segments, he felt something he rarely allowed himself to feel..

Peace.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #gender neutral reader #child reader #segments

143 notes · View notes

brookediamonds · 1 month ago

Note

Fluffy fic about Axel taking care of femreader when she’s sick or on her period?

love me like you do | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: You come down with a fever and get taken care of by none other Dr. Kovačević. Aka, your boyfriend.

Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: None, extreme fluff

gif is not mine

You knew something was wrong when you got out of the shower last night and your body started aching.

There’s a burning warmth sitting behind your eyelids before you can even open them when your alarm blares indicating it’s time to get ready for school.

Smashing your palm against the screen of your phone, you snuggle further into your comforter, searching for the warmth your body ached for.

After ten minutes of silence from your room, your mom comes in to check on you when she see’s your weakened state.

When she takes your temperature with the 10 year old thermometer you’ve had since you were a kid, she informs you, you are in fact running a fever.

A 101 fever to be exact. She gives you some fever reducing medication to help, and asks you not to leave the house today. Especially for karate.

You comply and turn over in your bed once she leaves you a bottle of water and the bottle of pain relievers on your night stand.

You send a quick text to your group chat of best friends, saying you won't be at school today which leads to your boyfriend Axel, FaceTiming you not two minutes later.

The phone buzzes against your nightstand, the bright screen illuminating your darkened room. You groan, reaching for it with a trembling hand.

"Hey, sick girl," Axel's voice fills your room as soon as you accept the call. His ocean blue eyes are bright with concern, his light reddish-brown hair still damp from his morning shower. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," you croak, your throat feeling like you've swallowed sandpaper. "Just what every girl wants to hear."

Axel's laugh is warm, rolling through the phone speaker like honey. "You know what I mean. What happened? You were fine yesterday at practice."

You adjust yourself against your pillows, wincing as every muscle in your body protests the movement.

"Everything hurts," you mumble, pulling the blanket up to your chin. "It started right after I got home last night. I took a shower and then boom—felt like I'd been hit by a truck."

Axel's face softens, his normally confident expression melting into something gentler.

"My poor baby," he says, and despite feeling like absolute garbage, your heart does a little flip.

"I was fine during practice, but I guess I was pushing too hard on those new forms." You pause to cough, the sound rattling in your chest. "By the time I stepped out of the shower, my legs were jelly and my head was pounding."

"Why didn't you call me?" There's genuine worry in his tone.

He shifts, and you can tell he's walking through his house, the background changing from his bedroom to the kitchen.

"It was too late," you sigh, nestling deeper into your pillow. "And I honestly thought it was nothing. Just some muscle soreness from practice, you know?"

You watch as Axel opens his refrigerator, the light from it casting a yellow glow across his features.

His jaw clenches slightly—that thing he does when he's concerned but trying to play it cool.

"Well, it's clearly not nothing," he says, grabbing something you can't quite see. The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing follows. "What did your mom say? Besides the obvious 'stay home' advice?"

"Just that I have a fever and monitor it through out the day," you respond lowly.

Closing your eyes for a moment, another wave of achiness washes over you. "She left me some medicine before heading to work."

Axel goes quiet for a moment, and when you open your eyes again, you see him moving through his house with purpose, the camera bobbing as he walks.

"That's it. I'm coming over," he announces, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You shouldn't be alone while you're sick."

"What? No, Axel, you have that calculus test today," you protest weakly, though the thought of him being here makes your heart flutter despite your feverish state.

“I can take it tomorrow," he says, and you hear the jingle of his car keys.

"Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you suffering alone?" His voice is firm, determined in that way that usually makes your knees weak, though right now your knees are already weak for entirely different reasons.

"Axel," you rasp, "I'm probably contagious. What if you get sick too?"

You watch his face on the screen as he slides into the driver's seat of his car, the familiar leather interior visible behind him. Sunlight streams through his windshield, highlighting the stubborn set of his jaw.

Axel scoffs, sliding his black sunglasses on over his eyes.

"My immune system is elite-level. Croatian genetics," he boasts, tapping his chest proudly. "We don't get sick."

"That's not how genetics work," you mumble, but you can't help smiling despite how terrible you feel.

"Maybe not," he concedes with that crooked grin that always makes your heart skip. "But I've never missed a day of school for being sick. Not once."

You watch as he starts the car, the gentle rumble of the engine vibrating through your phone speaker.

The morning light catches in his hair, turning the reddish-brown strands into something like burnished copper.

Even through your fever-haze, you can appreciate how unfairly handsome he looks in just a simple white t-shirt.

"Anyway, I'm stopping by that little pharmacy around the corner from my house," he says, adjusting his rearview mirror. "The one with the grumpy old man who always thinks I'm stealing something."

You laugh, which immediately turns into another coughing fit.

Axel's face immediately shifts from playful to concerned.

"Hey, easy there," he says softly as your coughing subsides. "Do you need anything specific from the pharmacy? Better cough medicine? Those cherry cough drops you like?"

You sink back into your pillows, feeling the cool fabric against your burning skin.

"The cherry one’s would be nice," you admit. "And maybe some of that mint tea? The one in the green box."

"Consider it done," he says, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as he navigates through morning traffic, the sunlight flickering between buildings and trees as he drives.

The familiar route from his house to yours seems to comfort you somehow, even through the screen.

"You really don't have to do this," you murmur, though your protest sounds weak even to your own ears.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that confident smile that

"I want to. End of discussion." He pauses at a stoplight, the morning sun casting dappled shadows through the trees onto his face.

"What sounds good for lunch? Soup?”

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

You must have dozed off after the call because the next thing you know, your phone is buzzing with a text.

It's Axel, telling you he's at your front door.

You struggle to untangle yourself from your blanket cocoon, every joint protesting as you slowly make your way downstairs.

The walk from your bedroom to the front door feels like a marathon. Your legs are wobbly, your head swimming with each step down the stairs.

When you finally reach the door, you take a moment to smooth down your messy hair, though you know it's a lost cause.

You swing open the front door, and there stands Axel, his tall frame silhouetted against the bright morning light.

He's juggling two bulging paper bags in his arms, and the most tender smile spreads across his face when he sees you.

"You look like death warmed over," he says, but his voice is so gentle it feels like a caress. "I love it."

You roll your eyes, which immediately makes your head throb. "You have the worst bedside manner."

"Good thing I brought reinforcements then." Axel nudges past you into the house, brushing a kiss against your forehead as he passes. "Hmm, still burning up. Back to bed for you."

You follow him to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill runs through your body despite the fever.

Axel sets the bags on the counter and immediately starts unpacking an absurd amount of supplies.

"Did you buy the entire pharmacy?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe for support.

"Pretty much." He pulls out boxes of cough drops, three different types of tea, a fancy digital thermometer, and tissues with lotion. "And that's just the first bag."

You watch in amazement as he continues unpacking: vapor rub, more pain relievers, a hot water bottle shaped like a penguin, fuzzy socks, and what appears to be at least three different kinds of soup.

"Axel," you say, your voice coming out raspier than you intended, "this must have cost a fortune."

He waves away your concern, arranging everything neatly on the counter. "Worth every penny. Besides, I got to watch Mr. Petrović at the pharmacy follow me around like I was going to pocket a thermometer. Highly entertaining."

He holds up the digital thermometer, sleek and modern compared to the ancient one your mom used earlier.

"Now, back to bed with you. Doctor Kovačević has arrived."

You consider protesting, but another wave of dizziness hits you, and suddenly the idea of your soft, warm bed seems like paradise.

Axel notices your slight sway and is at your side in an instant, his arm wrapping securely around your waist.

"Easy there," he murmurs, his voice close to your ear. "I've got you, baby."

His arm feels strong and steady around your waist, a sharp contrast to your trembling limbs.

The heat from his body seeps through your thin pajamas, somehow both comforting and overwhelming to your fever-sensitive skin.

"I can walk," you protest weakly, even as you lean into him.

Axel makes a dismissive sound in the back of his throat. "Sure you can."

Before you can argue further, he bends slightly and sweeps you up into his arms in one fluid motion, one arm supporting your back, the other hooked under your knees.

"Axel!" you yelp, voice raspy, as you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

"What?" he asks innocently, adjusting his grip to hold you more securely against his chest. "This is faster."

The sudden change in elevation makes your head spin, and you let it fall against his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent.

He carries you up the stairs with surprising grace for someone so tall, navigating the narrow stairway without bumping your feet or head against the walls.

You can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your side, strong and reassuring.

"You know," you mumble against his neck, "if I wasn't feeling so awful, this would be kind of romantic."

Axel chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "I'll make a note to sweep you off your feet again when you're not burning with fever."

When you reach your bedroom, he gently lowers you onto your unmade bed. The sheets feel nice and cool against your warm skin.

Axel looks down at you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he tucks the blanket around you.

"Comfortable?" he asks, his blue eyes scanning your face with careful attention.

You nod, sinking into your pillows. "As comfortable as someone can be when they feel like they've been hit by a truck, then reversed over a few times."

He laughs softly, then turns to your nightstand, organizing the medicine your mom left there earlier.

His movements are precise, almost tender in their care.

"I'm going to get you some water and make some of that tea," he says, his accent slightly more pronounced when he's concerned. "And then we're taking your temperature again.”

"Okay," you murmur, already feeling your eyelids growing heavy again. The weight of the fever seems to press you deeper into your mattress.

Axel brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers cool against your burning skin. The gentle touch lingers for a moment before he straightens up and heads for the door.

"Don't go anywhere," he calls over his shoulder with a teasing smile.

"Where would I even go?" you rasp after him, but he's already disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps echoing through your quiet house.

The silence of your room feels different now, knowing he's downstairs. Even with the distance between you, his presence fills the empty spaces of your home.

You can hear the faint sounds of cupboard doors opening and closing, the gentle clink of a spoon against ceramic, the whistle of the kettle starting to build.

Soon enough, he makes his way back into your room with the a fresh cup of tea and a chilled water bottle from the fridge.

Axel places the steaming mug of tea on your nightstand, the minty aroma wafting through your congested sinuses, offering momentary relief.

"Drink," he instructs, unscrewing the cap to the water and handing you the bottle. "You need to stay hydrated."

You take a few sips, the cool water soothing your raw throat. Axel watches you with careful eyes, as if monitoring each swallow.

When you've had enough, he takes the bottle back, his fingers brushing against yours.

"Now," he says, producing the sleek digital thermometer from his pocket. "Let's see how hot you really are."

"I'm always hot," you joke weakly.

"Can't argue with that," Axel says with a wink, but the playfulness in his eyes is tempered with concern. "But let's check just how hot you're running right now."

He gently presses the thermometer against your forehead, his other hand brushing your hair back.

The cool plastic feels good against your burning skin, and you close your eyes, leaning into the sensation.

The thermometer beeps after a few seconds, and Axel pulls it away to read the display.

His frown is immediate, his eyes darkening with worry as he looks from the digital readout to your face.

"102.3," he says, his voice tight. "That's higher than what your mom said earlier."

You groan, sinking deeper into your pillows. "That explains why I feel like I'm being cooked from the inside-out.”

"That's not good," Axel mutters, more to himself than to you.

He sets the thermometer aside and rummages through one of the paper bags he brought upstairs.

"Good thing I came prepared."

He grabs a cold pack from the supplies he brought, the blue gel pack making a soft sloshing sound as he flexes it between his large hands.

With careful movements, he wraps it in a thin kitchen towel he must have grabbed from downstairs.

"This should help bring the fever down a bit," he says, gently laying it across your forehead.

The sudden coolness against your burning skin makes you gasp, then sigh with relief.

The weight of it feels comforting somehow, like an anchor keeping you tethered when everything else feels floaty and disconnected.

"That feels amazing," you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed.

Axel sits on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

For a moment, he just watches you, his eyes tracking the rise and fall of your chest beneath the blankets.

"Scoot over a bit," he says softly, his voice gentle in the quiet of your room.

You shift slightly, wincing as your aching muscles protest the movement.

Axel kicks off his shoes and stretches his long legs out beside you, his back resting against your headboard.

"Come here," he murmurs, patting his lap. "Let me help."

With careful hands, he guides your head to rest on his thigh.

His fingers find your hair, running through it gently.

He begins to stroke from your temple to the nape of your neck in long, soothing motions. His fingertips apply just enough pressure to ease the tension that's been building behind your eyes.

"Go to sleep, my love," he murmurs, his voice lower, softer. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

You don’t even try to fight it. Between the warmth of his hands and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, sleep comes easily.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

You blink slowly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep.

The weight of Axel's hand is still in your hair, his fingers occasionally twirling a strand absentmindedly.

The steady rise and fall of his breathing tells you he's still right where he promised he'd be.

You shift slightly, and immediately his attention is on you.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty," Axel says softly, his accent slightly more pronounced with the gentle tone. "How are you feeling?"

You take a moment to assess your body—still achy, still warm, but the edge of the fever seems to have dulled somewhat.

"A little better," you rasp, your voice still thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon," he says, glancing at his phone. "You've been out for about two hours."

You struggle to sit up, and Axel immediately slides his arm behind your back, supporting you as you adjust against the pillows.

The cool pack that was on your forehead has long since warmed, and he takes it away, setting it on your nightstand.

"You stayed the whole time?" you ask, noticing that his shirt is slightly rumpled from how you laid on him.

Axel smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Well, not the entire time. I might have snuck away for a bit while you were deep in dreamland."

It's only then that you notice a rich, savory aroma wafting through your bedroom door.

The scent is hearty and comforting—hints of chicken, herbs, and something distinctly homemade that makes your stomach give a hopeful little rumble.

"Is that...?" you begin, inhaling deeply through your still-congested nose.

"Soup? Yes." Axel's eyes light up with pride. "Not just any soup, though. I used my family recipe."

"Your grandmother's chicken soup?" you ask, remembering how he once described the almost magical healing properties of his grandmother's recipe—a closely guarded family secret passed down through generations of Kovačevićs.

Axel nods, a pleased smile spreading across his face.

"The very same. Mom texted me the recipe when I told her you were sick," he runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly bashful. "I may have called her in a mild panic when your fever was so high."

"You made it from scratch?" You're genuinely impressed, knowing Axel's cooking adventures usually end with takeout and a sheepish grin.

"Don't sound so surprised," he teases, gently pinching your cheek. "I'll have you know I followed every instruction to the letter. Baka would be proud."

He stands up, stretching his long limbs after sitting still for so long. His back gives a soft crack as he twists from side to side.

"I'll go get you a bowl," he says, his eyes soft with affection. "Do you think you can eat something now?"

You nod, realizing that beneath the congestion and general misery, you're actually hungry. "I think so."

Axel disappears downstairs, and you can hear the gentle clanking of dishes and silverware.

The domestic sounds fill your quiet house, making it feel warmer somehow despite your chills.

When he returns, he's carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a few salted crackers.

The steam rising from the bowl carries the rich aroma of chicken, garlic, and herbs that makes your mouth water despite your stuffy nose.

Axel sets the tray carefully across your lap, the warmth from the bowl radiating through the ceramic and into your still-achy legs.

The soup looks perfect—golden broth with tender chunks of chicken, bright carrots, and delicate herbs floating on the surface.

"It smells amazing," you admit, breathing in the aromatic steam as deeply as your congested sinuses will allow.

You pick up the spoon, your hand trembling slightly from the weakness that comes with fever. The first attempt to lift it to your mouth goes poorly—your hand shakes, spilling a few drops back into the bowl.

Axel watches you struggle for precisely three seconds before gently taking the spoon from your fingers.

"My grandma always said the soup works better when someone who loves you feeds it to you," he says softly, dipping the spoon into the golden broth.

Heat rises to your cheeks that has nothing to do with your fever.

"I can feed myself," you protest weakly, even as your trembling hands betray you.

"I know you can," Axel says, his voice gentle as he carefully lifts the spoon, making sure not to spill a drop. "But you don't have to."

His dark blue eyes are focused entirely on you, filled with such tender care that it makes your heart flutter despite your illness.

"Open up," he murmurs, bringing the spoon to your lips with a steadiness your shaking hands could never manage right now.

You part your lips and let him feed you the first spoonful. The warm broth slides down your throat, soothing the rawness there.

The flavor is rich and comforting—hints of garlic, thyme, and something else you can't quite place.

"Good?" Axel asks, already dipping the spoon for another helping.

You nod, surprised at how much better it tastes than any chicken soup you've had before. "So good. I feel like I’m healing."

"That's the secret," Axel says with a knowing smile, preparing another spoonful. "My grandma also always said it's not just chicken soup, it's medicine."

He continues feeding you, each spoonful delivered with careful precision.

"There's something else in here," you say between spoonfuls, trying to place the subtle flavor that dances on your tongue. "Something I can't quite identify."

Axel's eyes twinkle mischievously. "Family secret. If I told you, I'd have to—"

"Marry me?" you interject with a raspy laugh.

His cheeks flush slightly, the redness spreading across his fair skin.

"I was going to say 'make you sign a confidentiality agreement,' but I like your suggestion better," he replies with a wink that makes your heart skip despite your feverish state.

A comfortable silence falls between you as he continues feeding you spoonfuls of the healing broth. The steam rises in delicate curls, creating a small, intimate cloud that seems to envelop just the two of you.

When you’re down to the last drop of broth, Axel takes the tray away from your lap, handing you your water.

After taking a few sips, along with two more pills of pain relievers, Axel helps you get situated again.

You sink back into your pillows, feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and contentment wash over you.

The soup seems to have worked some kind of magic—your throat feels less raw, and there's a pleasant warmth spreading through your limbs that feels different from the burning heat of fever.

Axel returns from taking the dishes downstairs, his footsteps light on the stairs despite his tall frame. When he comes back, he’s holding the small container of Vapo-Rub.

"How's my patient doing?" he asks, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead.

His skin feels cool against yours, but not as drastically different as before. "I think your fever might be coming down a little."

He reaches for the digital thermometer and gently presses it to your temple. When it beeps, his face relaxes visibly.

"101.4," he announces, relief evident in his voice. "Still high, but better than before."

He sits on the edge of your bed again, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

The container of Vapo-Rub makes a soft click as he twists it open, and the sharp, medicinal scent of menthol and eucalyptus immediately fills the air around you.

"This will help you breathe better," he explains, dipping his fingers into the translucent ointment.

The substance clings to his fingertips, glistening in the afternoon light filtering through your curtains.

As he reaches toward you, you instinctively pull the collar of your pajama top down slightly, exposing your upper chest.

Axel hesitates, his fingers hovering just above your skin. The menthol scent wafts between you, sharp and medicinal in the quiet of your bedroom.

"Um," he says, his eyes widening slightly. "I was actually going to put this on your neck and chest. It'll help with the congestion."

You blink slowly, your fever-addled brain taking a moment to catch up.

The cool air touches your exposed skin, raising goosebumps along your collarbone.

"I know," you say, your voice still raspy. "That's why I'm giving you access."

Axel's lips quirk up at one corner, his expression softening. "Just making sure we're on the same page."

He lowers his fingers to your skin with surprising gentleness for such large hands.

The Vapo-Rub feels cool against your fever-warm chest, making you shiver slightly.

Axel works with careful precision, his fingers tracing delicate circles along your collarbone and the hollow of your throat.

"Sorry if my hands are cold," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing in the quiet of your bedroom.

"They actually feel good," you admit, closing your eyes as he continues his ministrations.

The menthol begins to work almost immediately, the sharp scent cutting through your congestion and opening your airways.

Axel's fingertips move with deliberate tenderness, the pad of his thumb tracing the line of your collarbone as he spreads the medicinal ointment.

There's something strangely intimate about the gesture, about the care he takes not to press too hard against your sensitive skin.

His touch is methodical yet tender, clinical yet somehow deeply personal.

"There," he says softly, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary at the base of your throat. "That should help you breathe a little easier."

The minty coolness spreads across your skin, creating a pleasant tingling sensation that seems to cut through the congestion.

You take an experimental deep breath and find, to your surprise, that your airways do feel clearer.

"It's already helping," you murmur, your voice less strained than before.

"Good," Axel says, wiping his hands on a tissue before capping the Vapo-Rub container.

Axel studies you for a moment, his ocean-blue eyes scanning your face with careful attention. His expression softens, the usual confidence giving way to something more vulnerable.

"You know what would make you feel even better?" he asks, his voice gentle as he brushes a strand of hair from your forehead.

"More soup?" you guess, snuggling deeper into your blankets as another small chill runs through you.

"Eventually," he nods, "but I was thinking of something else."

He shifts his weight on the edge of your bed, suddenly looking almost shy—an expression you rarely see on his usually confident face.

"What is it?" you ask, curious about what could possibly make Axel Kovačević look uncertain.

"Move over a bit," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think what you need right now is some proper coddling."

"Coddling?" you repeat, the word sounding strange and wonderful on your tongue.

Axel's lips quirk up in that half-smile that always makes your heart flutter. "Yes, coddling. It's a very scientific, medically-proven treatment for fevers. Strictly prescription-only."

Despite feeling awful, you can't help but smile at his playful tone. You shift your achy body to make room on the bed, the movement causing your muscles to protest.

Axel carefully slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You feel yourself naturally gravitating toward him, like a small satellite pulled into orbit around a much larger planet.

"Come here," he murmurs, opening his arms to you.

You hesitate, voice raspy as you warn, "I'm all gross and feverish."

"And I'm all warm and comfortable," he counters, his accent thickening slightly as his voice drops lower. "Perfect combination, if you ask me."

With gentle hands, he guides you against his chest, arranging your limbs with careful precision until you're nestled beneath his arm, your head resting on his shoulder.

"There's just one more thing missing," Axel says after you've settled against him, your head finding the perfect spot in the crook of his shoulder.

You make a small questioning sound, too comfortable to form actual words.

His body radiates a steady warmth that somehow doesn't aggravate your fever but instead feels perfectly calibrated to your needs.

"Entertainment," he explains, reaching for the remote control on your nightstand.

One of his arms curls protectively around your shoulders while his free hand reaches for the remote control on your nightstand.

The TV across from your bed flickers to life, casting a soft blue glow across your darkened room.

"What are we in the mood for?" Axel asks, his voice rumbling pleasantly through his chest and into your ear pressed against him.

"Twilight," you mumble nuzzling even closer into his side.

Axel huffs a quiet laugh, his chest shaking slightly beneath you.

"Of course," he murmurs, amusement laced in his voice. "Sick and delirious, yet you still manage to make me watch Twilight."

"You love it," you mumble, your words slurred with exhaustion.

"I love you," he corrects so casually that it takes a second for the words to fully register.

The opening notes of the movie fill the room, and as the familiar scenes flicker across the screen, you feel yourself slipping further into warmth and drowsiness.

You nuzzle closer, letting his steady heartbeat lull you further into sleep.

"I love you too," you murmur, barely above a breath.

Axel shifts slightly, pulling the blankets higher around you both.

"Just don’t fall asleep before the baseball scene," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You hum sleepily, already drifting. "No promises…"

His quiet chuckle is the last thing you register before sleep takes you under, safe and sound in Axel’s arms.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Masterlist

(axel taking care of reader while she's on her period can be found here )

Taglist: @ggrgcribg

#axel kovacevic x reader #axel kovacevic imagines #axel kovacevic #axel kovacevic imagine #axel cobra kai #cobra kai #axel x reader #sam larusso #miguel diaz #eli moskowitz #tory nichols #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai fanfiction #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x you

79 notes · View notes

bestanimal · 8 months ago

Text

Round 1 - Phylum Arthropoda

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Arthropoda is a phylum of animals that have segmented bodies, possess a chitin exoskeleton, and have paired segmented appendages. They are colloquially called “bugs” though this is often only used for terrestrial arthropods, and sometimes only used for insects specifically.

After Nematoda, this is the most successful phylum, and it is far more diverse, with up to 10 million species! Arthropods account for 80% of all known living animal species. The three major subphyla include the Chelicerates (sea spiders, horseshoe crabs, arachnids, and the extinct eurypterids and chasmataspidids), the Myriapods (centipedes and millipedes), and the Crustaceans (shrimps, prawns, crabs, lobsters, crayfish, seed shrimp, branchiopods, fish lice, krill, remipedes, isopods, barnacles, copepods, opossum shrimps, amphipods, mantis shrimp, entognaths, and insects).

Arthropods are so diverse in fact that it is next to impossible for me to describe a model arthropod. They are important members of marine, freshwater, land, and air ecosystems and are one of only two major animal groups that have adapted to life in dry environments, the others being chordates. All arthropods have an exoskeleton and must molt as they grow, replacing their exoskeleton. Some arthropods go through a metamorphosis in this process. They have brains, a heart, and blood (called hemolymph, though some crustaceans and insects also use hemoglobin). They sense the world through small hairs called setae which are sensitive to vibration, air currents, and even chemicles in the air or water. Pressure sensors function similarly to eardrums. Antennae monitor humidity, moisture, temperature, sound, smell, and/or taste, depending on species. Most arthropods have sophisticated visual systems ranging from simple eyes (ocelli) which orient towards light, to compound eyes consisting of fifteen to several thousand independent ommatidia capable of forming images, detecting fast movement, or even seeing polarized or ultra-violet light. Some arthropods are hermaphroditic, some have more than two sexes, some reproduce by parthenogenesis, some by internal fertilization, some by external, some have complex courtship rituals, some lay eggs, some give live birth, some have prolonged maternal care. The first arthropods are known from the Ediacaran, before the Cambrian era.

Propaganda below the cut:

Insects are the first animals to have achieved flight

The smallest arthropods are the parasitic crustaceans of the class Tantulocarida, some of which are less than 100 micrometres long. The largest arthropod is the Japanese Spider Crab (Macrocheira kaempferi) with a legspan of up to 4 metres (13 ft) long. The heaviest is the American Lobster (Homarus americanus), which can get up to 20 kilograms (44 lb).

Many arthropods are popular pets, including various species of crab, shrimp, isopod, crayfish, mantis shrimp, millipede, centipede, tarantula, true spider, scorpion, amblypygid, vinegaroon, mantis, cockroach, beetle, moth, and ant! Some are even domesticated, including silk moths and honeybees.

Many arthropods are eaten by humans as a delicacy, and farming insects for food is considered more sustainable than farming large chordates. These farmed arthropods are referred to as “minilivestock.”

Arthropods feature in a variety of ways in biomimicry: humans imitating elements of nature. For example, the cooling system of termite mounds has been imitated in architecture, and the internal structure of the dactyl clubs of mantis shrimp have been imitated to create more damage tolerant materials.

Spider venoms are being studied as a less harmful alternative to chemical pesticides, as they are deadly to insects but the great majority are harmless to vertebrates. They have also been studied and could have uses in treating cardiac arrhythmia, muscular dystrophy, glioma, Alzheimer's disease, strokes, and erectile dysfunction.

Shellac is a resin secreted by the female Lac Bug (Kerria lacca) on trees in the forests of India and Thailand. It is used as a brush-on colorant, food glaze, natural primer, sanding sealant, tannin-blocker, odour-blocker, stain, and high-gloss varnish. It was once used in electrical applications as an insulator, and was used to make phonograph and gramophone records until it was replaced by vinyl.

One of the biggest ecosystem services arthropods provide for humans is pollination. Crops where pollinator insects are essential include brazil nuts, cocoa beans, and fruits including kiwi, melons, and pumpkins. Crops where pollinator insects provide 40-90% of pollination include avocados, nuts like cashews and almonds, and fruits like apples, apricots, blueberries, cherries, mangoes, peaches, plums, pears, and raspberries. In crops where pollinators are not essential they still increase production and yield. Important pollinators include bees, flies, wasps, butterflies, and moths.

Many arthropods are sacred to humans. In Ancient Egypt, scarab beetles were used in art, religious ceremonies, and funerary practices, and were represented by the god Khepri. Bees supposedly grew from the tears of the sun god Ra, spilled across the desert sand. The goddess of healing venomous bites and stings, Serket, was depicted as a scorpion. Kalahari Desert's San People tell of a legendary hero, Mantis, who asked a bee to guide him to find the purpose of life. When the bee became weary from their search, he left the mantis on a floating flower, and planted a seed within him before passing from his exhaustion. The first human was born from this seed. In Akan folklore, the cunning trickster figure Anansi/Ananse is depicted as a spider. Western astrology uses the crab constellation, called Cancer, and the scorpion constellation, called Scorpio. Dragonflies symbolize pure water in Navajo tradition. In Anishinaabe culture, dreamcatchers are meant to represent spiderwebs and are used as a protective charm for infants. They originate from the Spider Grandmother, who takes care of the children and the people of the land in many Native American cultures. The Moche people of ancient Peru often depicted spiders and crabs in their art. In an Ancient Greek hymn, Eos, the goddess of the dawn, requests of Zeus to let her lover Tithonus live forever as an immortal. Tithonus became immortal, but not ageless, and eventually became so small, old, and shriveled that he turned into the first cicada. Another hymn sings of the Thriae, a trinity of Aegean bee nymphs. Native Athenians wore golden grasshopper brooches to symbolize that they were of pure, Athenian lineage. In an Ancient Sumerian poem, a fly helps the goddess Inanna when her husband Dumuzid is being chased by galla demons. In Japanese culture, butterflies carry many meanings, from being the souls of humans to symbols of youth to guides into the afterlife. Ancient Romans also believed that butterflies were the souls of the dead. Some of the Nagas of Manipur claim ancestry from a butterfly. Many cultures use the butterfly as a symbol of rebirth. And the list goes on…

cute crab eat a strawbebby:

#round 1 #animal polls #listen narrowing it down to just 4 images almost killed me #if arthropods don’t move on to round 2 I will have to take like an extra week off to mourn that I can’t show you all the cool bugs #there’s so many cool bugs guys #i chose the orchid mantis over a trilobite beetle and a poofy little bee fly cause I figured it had broader appeal #and used a horseshoe crab instead of a spider cause people are so Weird about spiders I worried it would impact the numbers #sigh #anyway I’m really hoping for Chordata Arthropoda Mollusca as top three #other phyla are all great but these three would make for the most interesting Round 2 imo #arthropoda

242 notes · View notes

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year ago

Note

Not too smutty but--

Shimmer!Kane is definitely the type to keep your bed "messy" by average standards but insists the blankets are arranged specifically to be a "nest".

Every time you remake the bed, twenty minutes later you come back and it's a mess again; blankets piled and arranged almost perfectly in the middle, pillows strategically placed for the most comfort...

You ask him why but he can't really tell you (instincts, duh!). But it's perfect to snuggle in! (And y'know nice and cosy to pound your brains out later if you want)

I am screaming over this!! (Also I'm so sorry this took me so long!)

Shimmer!Kane x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

A/N: My brain is just like is this a one shot? Is there a part two? What am I doing? Also I have to tag @ominoose just because all of their amazing Kane fics and head canons have just shaped my brain.

Warnings: pining, dry humping, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 811

“Kane, what the fuck?” You sigh, no real heat in your words.

He looks up at you from where he’s crouched over the bed, the faintest hint of a quizzical expression on his features.

“What are you doing?”

He shakes his head a minute, obviously not understanding.

“I just made the bed, and now you’ve,” you gesture half-heartedly, “done whatever this is.”

The pillows were piled seemingly haphazardly in the middle, the duet cover bundled up. As you looked you realised that he had also brought the bedding from his own bed onto yours.

“It’s fine when it’s just your bed, but can you not come in here and mess with mine?”

You’d been assigned to ‘monitor’ him, try to help him adjust back into everyday life after… whatever happened. You weren’t privileged with the details, or even the vague notion.

He continues to look at you with that quiet stare he had, like he was trying to read the dictionary definition for every single word you said.

You sigh again, moving towards the bed and beginning to put your pillows back at the top of the bed.

Kane stood quickly, putting his hand softly on your forearm to stop you. You stare at him, a small frown of confusion on your face.

When he doesn’t say anything for a moment you move to continue your task, but his grip tightens.

“Stop.” He whispers, his voice barely audible.

Your frown deepens. “What? Why?”

You swallow as he stares intently at you, his lips slightly parted, his pupils dilated. It’s only now that you realise how close he’s standing to you.

“Kane?” You whisper, your heart thudding in your throat.

He was handsome, of course he was. But looks weren’t everything.

He was kind, considerate. He listened when you talked, did little things to be helpful, affectionate. He made you drinks without even asking, usually bringing them to you a second after you realised you were thirsty. When the temperature dropped close to freezing a few weeks ago, he’d warm blankets in the tumble dryer and bring them to you, offer you hot water bottles and put your slippers by the radiator when you weren’t wearing them.

He liked to be in the garden, around plants and animals and taking care of things. The apple tree hadn’t stopped blossoming, despite its leaves coming in since he’d been here. The forget-me-knots hadn’t been hampered by the late frost. Bumble bees and butterflies gathered around the honeysuckle that had bloomed exceptionally early, its sudden growth spurt meaning it was now covering most of the back wall it leant against.

You liked him being here.

You liked him.

Kane carefully placed his hands on your shoulders and gently guided you with your back to the bed before he slowly moved you, urging you to sit and then lay in the middle of the pillows and blankets.

You stared up at him, a little bewildered as he climbed in next to you.

“Comfortable?” He asked in that soft voice of his, but you weren’t sure if it was really a question or just an affirmation. You nod your head anyway.

He pressed his lips together, deep in thought for a moment on your reaction, before he moves to lay on top of you, pressing his thighs between yours and settling his hips against yours.

You freeze out of surprise. He’s never done something so bold before. You look up at him, his nose barely an inch from yours.

Your mouth goes dry, anxiety building under his heavy gaze, like a scientist looking at a specsamin in a jar.

“Kane,” you whisper, “what are you doing?”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head without thinking and there’s a little flicker of emotion that crosses his face. Satisfaction, you think.

“Why, erm,” your mind is short circuiting with him this close, the warmth radiating off his skin, the sweet, almost floral smell that permanently surrounds him fills your lungs. The way the hard outline of his cock presses against your core. “Why did you bring your blankets in here?” You blurt out.

“Making a nest,” he says simply, like that was all the information you would need. “Wanted it to smell like us.”

He dips his head lower, nuzzling against the side of your neck and breathing deeply.

“A nest?” You gasp as he rocks his hips against yours, leaning closer so that your chests are flush.

“Hmm.” He continues to run his lips and cheeks over your neck, feeling your skin and sighing contently. All the while he rolls his hips languidly, dragging his cock against your heat.

You can’t hold back the shudder and whine as his fly presses deliciously against your clit.

While it doesn’t hamper his movements, the sound obviously amuses him and he focuses his actions solely on making you repeat it.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#kane #annihilation #kane x reader #x reader #kane x you #x you #kane x afab reader #afab reader #kane x female reader #x female reader #kane x f!reader #x f!reader #kane x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

292 notes · View notes

gallifreyinstituteforlearning · 4 months ago

Text

⚕️GASS (Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System)

Sick Gallifreyan just crossed your path? Here's how to assess their condition using the Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System. Just remember, 'Gallifreyan life's a GASS'.

BIGGER - Google Drive: PDF / Image JPG / Image PNG

This guide is for use on Gallifreyans and Time Lords only. Always seek your human advice from human health providers.

✨ What is GASS?

The Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS) is a tool designed to rapidly evaluate a Gallifreyan's condition. By monitoring vital signs and unique Gallifreyan indicators, it prioritises emergency responses while accounting for their distinct physiology, such as dual hearts and regenerative abilities.

Just remember, Gallifreyan life's a GASS.

📈 What's New in GASS?

This updated version of GASS includes critical refinements for more precise assessments. New categories have been added, such as Heart Rate Differential (HRD) to flag discrepancies between the two hearts and T = Responds to Telepathy in the level of consciousness scale. Adjustments to thresholds for vital signs and regenerative glow visibility also improve detection of emergencies like fibrillation or post-regenerative trauma.

📝 How to Use GASS

1️⃣Initial Observations

Ensure the environment is safe (e.g., no stray Daleks).

Observe for immediate signs of distress: skin colour, breathing effort, or lack of responsiveness.

2️⃣Evaluate Vital Signs and Assign Scores

Refer to the GASS table to assess each category:

🌬�� Respiration Rate: Count breaths per minute. Adjust for respiratory bypass if present.

🫧 Supplemental Oxygen: Note if oxygen support is in use.

🌡️ Temperature: Measure orally.

💓 Systolic BP: Record using a normal sphygmomanometer.

💖 Hearts Rate (Combined): Count the total bpm across both hearts.

🔄 Hearts Rhythm: Sequential beats (thud-thud, thud-thud) are normal; synchronous beats (thud-thud together) indicate fibrillation.

⚖️ Heart Rate Differential (HRD): Calculate the bpm difference between hearts; large discrepancies suggest possible singular heart failure.

🧠 Level of Consciousness (AVPTU): A = Alert, V = Responds to verbal stimuli, P = Responds to pain, T = Responds to telepathy, U = Unresponsive

✨ Regenerative Glow: Check for visible energy on the skin.

3️⃣Check for Healing Coma

If 8+ healing coma criteria are met:

Cease active interventions.

Monitor closely for changes.

Avoid premature waking to prevent neurological damage.

4️⃣Calculate Total GASS Score

Add up the scores from all categories:

0: No concerning changes. Continue routine monitoring.

1–4: Mild to moderate changes. Perform an ABCDE assessment and increase monitoring.

5–8 or 3 in single score: Severe changes. Perform ABCDE, escalate care, and consider sepsis.

≥9 or Glow = 3: Extreme changes. Initiate emergency intervention, constant monitoring, and prepare for sepsis protocols.

5️⃣Reassess After Interventions

Following each intervention, reassess the GASS score to adapt care and ensure stability.

🚨 When to Escalate

Critical signs: Synchronous heartbeats, extreme HRD, or GASS score ≥9.

Sepsis or Specific Emergencies: Use respective protocols for management.

📌 Key Points to Remember

Combine GASS results with clinical judgement.

Healing comas are protective states—let them run their course.

Escalate care if in doubt.

Medical Guides These are all practical guides to assessing and treating a Gallifreyan in an emergency or medical setting.

⚕️💕Gallifreyan CPR

⚕️👽Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS)

⚕️👽ABCDE Assessment

⚕️⚠️Sepsis Emergency Response (SER)

⚕️⚠️Severe Trauma Protocol

⚕️🌡️Gallifreyan Thermoregulation and Emergency Response

⚕️🔮Psionic Emergency Pathways

⚕️✨Post-Regeneration Management

⚕️🩸Interpreting Gallifreyan Bloodwork

⚕️👶Gallifreyan Paediatric Emergencies

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

#doctor who #dr who #dw eu #gallifreyans #gallifrey institute for learning #Time Lord biology #GAP Quick Guides #whoniverse #GIL: Biology #gallifreyan biology #GIL: Species/Gallifreyans #GIL #GIL: Biology/Medical

66 notes · View notes

skeletondeerart · 3 months ago

Text

Sacred Waters, Sacred Hearts Chapter 8

A Male OC! Metkayina x Fem Human! Reader | Word Count: 2160 words

Masterlist & join the taglist

A/N: Both Rukan and reader are in their mid 20's | ALSO sorry I fell of the face of the planet for like a month... life is busy. ANYway, time for the Rukan and the reader to reunite!!! Some exciting stuff this chapter :)

" " = direct speech | ' ' = Metkayina sign language | Bold = English

POV (Y/N)

The lab lights bathed everything in a pale, sterile light. I followed closely behind Norm, who was in his human body, as he took me into the room housing the avatar tanks. My eyes flitted over Grace’s avatar suspended in the solution with a melancholic gaze. Yet on this occasion, I wasn’t here to voice my respects… I was here to view my avatar for the first time.

Norm gestures to the final tank in the room, multiple monitors were set up to display the avatar’s vital signs - temperature, pulse, breathing, and blood pressure all of which were shown in green text so I knew everything was going smoothly. I tentatively approach, my reflection bouncing off the curved glass of the cylindrical tank. I stepped closer, my heart thudding against my ribs as I peered into the solution. There, floating in the gentle currents, was her, or me I guess - the infant form of my Metkayina avatar.

Her tiny form bore a broad chest and long limbs with wide forearm fins built for the harsh waters of Pandora. The solution nudged her slightly as her face lulled to face me, the resemblance was uncanny, she had my face shape, the same lips even the same lashes and some faint eyebrows… it was starting to feel real. Her rippling markings were slowly emerging, they were faint right now but I knew they would gain their colour as she grew. She was beautiful, my eyes became misty as I watched her ebb with the gentle push and pull of the solution. All I ever wanted was to reach my hand into the tank and caress the short inky strands sprouting from her scalp.

Her chest fluttered with practising ‘breaths’ as the umbilical cord pulsed with life, her small webbed fingers twitched slightly like she was dreaming. I pressed my hand against the glass, not caring if I left handprints on the pristine glass, my fingers splaying out as if I could somehow reach her… cradle her in my arms… bond with her. She was so small, so fragile, yet so full of potential. My throat tightened as the weight of it hit me - this was my future, I could bond with Pandora as Eywa intended. I couldn't help but dream of the day I would swim with her… as her. But right now, she was just a delicate promise suspended in a tank, waiting for her to take her first breath, first dive… and I will be ready for her when that time comes.

I’m pulled from my stupor by Norm’s gentle voice. “Beautiful isn’t she, not a single complication. She's growing strong and healthy. I can see your features in her already.” he stated with a warm accomplished smile. “We have worked tirelessly to ensure she's developing correctly. Her lungs are on track, her fins are enlarging daily, and her tail is beginning to develop its paddle. Vital signs are steady. She’s one healthy baby girl!” Norm proudly rattles off the diagnostics from his tablet. His excitement is infectious. I grin, unable to take my eyes off her. Eighteen months to go… I think, mentally counting down the days.

POV Rukan

The waves lapped at my feet as I carved another tally mark into a shell with my knife. Three weeks have passed since (Y/N) was taken for treatment and I began to grow restless. The days seem to drag on longer now that she’s gone, weeks stretching into the next with the same endless monotony. I’m staring out in the direction of the Omaticaya Clan more often than I’d like to admit, my gaze always drawn to the horizon where the forest meets the beach. Somewhere out there (Y/N) is recovering, but every moment without her feels like I’m desperately swimming to the surface trying to catch my breath, just waiting for her to return.

I can still hear her laugh - soft and genuine. She made everything feel… lighter, she could make any boring task the most fun I’ve ever had. Without her, the ocean feels quieter. Even Säyani’s presence, usually so overwhelming, can’t fill the space she left behind in my mind.

I shake my head pushing my damp fringe from my eyes. I was frustrated with myself. I’m being foolish. She’s only been gone three weeks. But the time apart has made me realise how much I’ve come to rely on her steady presence.

Yet all I can do is wait, watch the tides roll in and out, and hope that Eywa brings her back to me soon.

“Ru! Come out with us!” My ears prick up at Säyani’s voice ringing out. I sigh as I sheathe my knife pushing myself to stand with a groan, my feet tingle after sitting cross-legged for an hour now just reminiscing.

“Coming,” I say unenthusiastically as I pick up a light jog to meet with her little group of girls. I could tell they were trying to impress me. It didn't feel genuine. I flash a polite smile, unconvinced as Säyani eagerly took my hand into her own and dragged us over to a pod of Ilu. I bond with one and we all set out deeper into the reef. The girls do tricks and show off, seawater cascading around them elegantly as they breach the surface. I can’t help but have some fun as I urge my Ilu to leap into the air and splash causing a wave to wash over the girls. My chest rumbles with laughter as I watch them cry in surprise tumbling off their Ilu’s in a flurry of limbs.

"Rukan!" Arohi squeals, her voice light with amusement. She’s already half-submerged, her legs sticking awkwardly above the water. Her short ponytail floats behind her, and a playful smile dances on her lips. Her pale markings crease with joy.

"Rukaann!" Tsevi yells, her voice high-pitched with mock annoyance. Her thigh-length goddess braids are tangled from the tumble, she glares at me with her piercing pale eyes contrasting greatly against her rich markings. She scowls, but I can see the glimmer of competition in her, eager to get me back.

"I hate you, Ru!" Säyani exclaims, her headpiece askew, shooting me an exaggerated pout. She swims up to me, her movements sharp with determination as she throws a half-hearted punch toward my shoulder. As it connects, I laugh it off. Her arms flail in the water as she splashes me back, grinning despite herself. “Alright girls, let's head off” She huffed “Ru is being a pain anyways-” She ordered as the girls rolled their eyes and swam down the reef wall with Säyani. My gaze soon drifted across the ocean towards (Y/N)’s mauri and I couldn’t help but urge my Ilu forward as if drawn in by a siren’s call.

The familiar waters gave way to the beach where her mauri resided. I expected it to still be in ruin but was taken back to see a shiny new pod standing on the shore and the debris cleared. It was like nothing ever happened, I went up to investigate only to see tawtute boot print marks in the wet sand and I hummed in curiosity. They were here recently. I crouched down tracing the strange prints before the clattering of helicopter blades abruptly pulled me from my thoughts. I dove off the pier into the waves in a mindless panic. My teal skin blended seamlessly into the waters as I hid in the corals. My eyes widen as I watch the helicopter land with a thud. But to my surprise, a familiar face steps down onto the sandy shore, she brushes stray hairs from her mask as she turns to stare at the ocean.

My breath caught in my throat as the figure turned around, allowing me to catch a glimpse of her features. The sun beat down, basking her in an ethereal glow. (Y/N). She had finally returned to me.

For a moment, my body floated motionless as if I was paralysed. She looked like the girl I bid goodbye to just a few weeks ago, yet she seemed to hold herself in a new light - like she carried a newfound weight. My fingers clutched the coral as she took a slow, hesitant step forward, scanning the beach like she wasn’t sure she was welcome here after such a long time.

I should have rushed forward and called her name. But something held me back. I had spent so long imagining this moment, picturing the day she would return to me. Now that she was here, my chest tightened with something I couldn’t name.

Then, her gaze flickered to the water, her brows furrowing as she squinted through the water. My cover was blown as I stared at her through the water like a stunned mullet.

“Rukan?” she called, her voice cutting through the roar of the helicopter blades with an excited lilt.

I exhaled sharply as bubbles rose to the surface. Pushing off the coral, I swam toward her. The water dripped from my skin as I pulled myself onto the shore, furiously racking my fingers through my curls trying desperately to make myself more presentable. My teal fingers sink into the damp sand as I push myself to stand before her.

(Y/N) stood there, hands on her hips, a lopsided grin tugging at her lips. For a moment, neither of us spoke. My mouth opened, yet no words came out.

The silence shattered as she spoke with a grin. “You should see your face right now Ru.”

I blink owlishly, my tail flicking behind me in embarrassment. “I-” I start trying to defend myself.

“I was gonna surprise you, you know,” she teased, crossing her arms. “But I guess you beat me to it… I didn’t expect to see you lurking here.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms with a pout. “I wasn’t lurking… I was just on patrol.” I stammered out trying to make a believable excuse for why I was out this far.

“Oh, you liar.” She said jutting her hip out “You were snooping” she scolded, wagging her finger at me with a knowing grin. Rocking on her heels as she eyed me up and down. “Still my handsome boy, I see.”

Heat crept up my neck as I whipped my head around, astonished at her brazen words. flustered. I pretended to pick the sand from under my nails so I didn't have to look at her teasing grin. Soon we both fell silent as we listened to the lapping waves, the helicopter already far into the distance.

After another beat of silence, I let out a drawn-out sigh.

“You… came back,” I mumbled, looking at my feet. Unable to bear watching her crestfallen expression.

“Why wouldn’t I? I promised I’d come back.” She murmured concerned, I peered through my lashes as I watched her curl into herself, unsure where this conversation was going.

“I- uh I don’t know. I thought maybe you would like to be with the other tawtute more than being with me and would decide to stay… ah, don’t listen to me.” I stumble out trying to back out and make her forget about this conversation, I take a step back running my hand down my face angry at myself and how I openly expressed my baseless anxieties like that.

“Oh Ru…” she said softly, her teasing tone faded into something empathetic. “I’ll always come back for you… This is my home, the ocean… and you”

Something thick settled in my throat, an unspoken weight pressing between us as I raised my head to meet her eyes. I wanted to say something - anything - but all that came out was a strangled whimper.

“Why didn’t you tell me of your return?”

(Y/N) winced. “Well, I wanted to. But I had no way of contacting you remember? so I thought it’d be a nice surprise?” She gestured around vaguely trying to find the right words. “Didn’t think I’d nearly give you a heart attack, though.”

I huffed, shaking my head. “You are impossible.”

She grinned. “Yeah, but you missed me anyway.”

My ears flicked, and I tried to keep my face neutral, but the warmth in my chest betrayed me. “A little.”

“Just a little huh?” She laughed, almost stepping forward before hesitating like she wasn’t sure if she should hug me. I took matters into my own hands and strode up to her, embracing her tightly and lifting her to my chest. Her feet dangled but she couldn’t help but huff humorously wrapping her arms around my neck melting into me almost instantly.

“I really did miss you,” she mumbled into my chest.

I sighed, pressing my chin to the top of her head. “I know, me too.”

And just like that, the world felt right again. Just like Eywa intended.

Enjoy the next chapter in my Masterlist! & join the taglist

Taglist! @stag-symbolism @camiicazi @shadyd3ar @cocopuffff @etexin @nanaluvs-me @misplacedvibes @annoyingasexual @royaltysuite @lovemiss-vale @heyitsaliii @lunagala23 @darktrashpoetry @mojo-jojo-1 @samlove391 @ravenswife @ellizzen @nifujiswhore @gingersnap126126 @luckeclover

57 notes · View notes