#a warm meal is already being prepared for her return home

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Picnic Date | n.r. x w.m

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: Natasha has a penis, beefy Nat, outdoor sex, blow job, fingering

Word count: 2,296

Summary: After being on back to back missions for weeks, Natasha decided to have a little picnic with her girlfriend.

A/N: I know it's just supposed to be a drabble request but...yeah. ✌️

╰┈➤ Masterlist

Natasha had become utterly drained from a relentless string of missions that she's being sent to and was desperate for some rest. Wanda, witnessing Natasha's exhaustion, did her best to comfort her every time she returned home for a brief mission break. However , Wanda was getting impatient because she missed spending time with her love. It had been two whole months without any intimate moments, and it was making her very upset.

Summer had come to New York, and Natasha finally got the break she deserved. She had a whole month off, and she planned to use it to be with her magical girlfriend. So, she thought it would be nice to have a picnic date to relax to welcome the season and spend time together.

Truth be told, Natasha was acutely aware of Wanda's pent-up desires. It became abundantly clear when Wanda practically pounced on her the moment she stepped out from the quinjet, their lips meeting in a fierce and passionate kiss. Natasha welcomed the fiery embrace, but she also realised that Wanda's desires were on the brink of overwhelming her. Wanda's hands roamed freely, and Natasha found herself struggling to calm the eager witch.

"Detka, relax. I'm back now, alright? I'm not going anywhere," Natasha reassured Wanda, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

"You've been away for so long. I've been missing you so badly, baby," Wanda whispered, her eyes filled with longing.

"I understand, detka," Natasha said, gently stroking Wanda's hair. "But can I at least take a quick shower and get some sleep? I promise I'll make it up to you."

Wanda pouted but nodded in agreement, understanding that the spy needed some time to decompress and rest. She knew their moments together would come, and she eagerly awaited the time when Natasha would be all hers once again. But damn her hormones. She was already vibrating with need since Natasha left a clear instruction to not touch herself.

Natasha had returned home three days ago, and Wanda is still untouched. The witch found herself in a constant battle to keep her desires at bay, and the wait was becoming maddeningly frustrating.

Wanda was even perplexed when Natasha suggested they go on a picnic date. Wanda couldn't help but wonder why her lover, who had been away for so long, would choose a picnic over a lazy afternoon where they can have sex all day long.

"Natasha! I don't want to go on a picnic date. I want to be be fucked. That's it."

Expecting this reaction from Wanda, Natasha let out a sigh and gently touched her girlfriend's cheek. "Hey, I made a promise that I'll make it up to you," she began, her voice filled with sincerity. "But can we just enjoy this beautiful new season together? Besides, I've been stuck in Siberia for a whole week, freezing to death, and right now, I need some warmth in my body."

Wanda couldn't resist a playful grin at Natasha's words. "Oh, I can warm you up very nicely, you know," she teased.

Natasha chuckled, her eyes dancing with a mixture of desire and amusement. "I'm fully aware of that," she replied with a wink. "Now, do me a favor, and wear that cute dress I got for you in Italy. I'll start preparing our food for this afternoon."

With a gentle kiss on Wanda's forehead, Natasha left their room and made her way to the kitchen. She was determined to create a memorable picnic experience for them. She began by frying marinated chicken breasts, ensuring she got her much-needed protein after her time in Siberia. Meanwhile, she checked on the blueberry cheesecake she had prepared the night before. The sight of the luscious dessert made her anticipate the picnic even more, knowing that their meal would be both delicious and delightful.

Natasha had meticulously packed a selection of chocolates, knowing that Wanda had an undeniable sweet tooth. She also included a few of Wanda's favorite snacks. Natasha had taken the time to ensure that their drinks were just right. There was a bottle of red wine for Wanda, her indulgence of choice, and a carbonated drink for herself. Natasha knew that a glass or two of wine had the power to unleash Wanda's playful and mischievous side. She had every intention of pushing Wanda to her limits during their date, teasing her until she's feeling too desperate. In reality, this seemingly innocent picnic date was just a cover for what she had planned.

Hand in hand, the two of them ventured into the woods of the compound, following a secluded trail that would lead them to their secret spot. Natasha had made sure that no prying eyes could spot them, as she had something rather scandalous in mind.

Once they reached their chosen location, Wanda set up the blanket and eagerly unloaded the contents of the basket Natasha had brought. She couldn't help but admit that this date was turning out to be much better than expected. Seeing Natasha so relaxed and laid-back was a rare and delightful sight.

Natasha found a comfortable spot with her back resting against the sturdy tree trunk, the rough bark serving as a natural support. She extended her legs, creating a welcoming space where Wanda lay down.

They shared stories of what they did when they were not together, occasionally stealing bites from each other's food.

Natasha's fingers are gently toying with the strands of Wanda's hair. With a playful curiosity in her voice, she inquired, "How come your hair color is now almost blonde?"

Wanda couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Sam was so bored one evening and decided it would be a fantastic idea to dye my hair. Vision was there to supervise the whole thing. It turned out to be so damn funny."

"It looks good on you, baby. You're so gorgeous."

Then suddenly, Natasha's hands groped Wanda's boobs since the dress was showing off her bouncy cleavage and could not resist anymore.

"Sweetheart, you look so good in this dress. Your tits looks delicious as fuck. I can bury my face in there all day. You are not even wearing a bra. What a bad girl, you are."

"Natasha, you have been teasing me for too long." Wanda whimpers every time the redhead pinches her nipples.

"I know you love it when I tease you like this. I bet you are already wet for me," Natasha continued kneading Wanda tits while playing with her nipples which are now fully exposed. Natasha leaned down to plant kisses on Wanda's shoulder blade and the right side of her neck, leaving a few hickeys behind.

"Baby, sit on my lap. I want to see you."

Wanda obeyed Natasha's wish and the spy already had her palm up, ready to cup the witch's throbbing center.

"My, my. You are not also wearing your panties," Natasha groaned when she felt that Wanda was already dripping wet and circled the sensitive clit. "Were you expecting this to happen, huh?"

"Natasha! Please. Stop torturing me like this." Wanda leaned down and kissed Natasha desperately, her moans being swallowed by the kiss.

"I will fuck you good, Wanda." And the witch screamed when she felt two fingers enter her with no warning.

"Oh my god, Natasha! That feels good baby, keep going."

"Quiet down for me, princess. You don't want the others to hear like this? Or would you like to let them see how desperate you are for me? Riding my fingers like it's your damn job."

"No no no. Only you can see me like this. Ah!"

Natasha's curled fingers are going in and out harshly, hitting Wanda's g-spot perfectly. "You're so good for me like this, Wanda." She added another finger and Wanda's moans are getting louder at each thrust of her fingers.

"Love, fuck. I'm going to cum. Please let me cum!"

"Cum anytime you want, baby." With that, Wanda's orgasm flooded her senses at a rate which was too overwhelming and made her body collapse atop Natasha.

"I've got you. I'm here, baby. Deep breaths for me."

It took a minute for Wanda's erratic heart to calm down. She finally had her release that she's been craving for months. "I love you, Natty."

"You always say that everytime I make you cum." Natasha smirks at Wanda's blissful face. They made out for a while and Wanda noticed the bulge on Natasha's crotch.

"Let me take care of this now, baby. Please?"

Wanda decided to unravel the layers of Natasha's upper clothes. She reached for the zipper of Natasha's leather jacket, tugging it down with deliberate slowness, revealing a black tank top underneath. Natasha's breath hitched, her eyes locked onto Wanda's.With the jacket now partially open, Wanda slipped her hands inside, running her palms along Natasha's biceps. Each touch was filled with tenderness and desire, making Natasha's heart race. The jacket slid off Natasha's shoulders.

"Put your mouth on me, Princess."

Wanda changed her position and was kneeling sideways. She carefully pulled down Natasha's pants and her hard cock sprung out proudly. The spy reached Wanda's exposed ass and gave a good slap on her buttcheck.

"Suck me off now, detka. Go on."

Wanda almost rolled her eyes at Natasha's impatience but just simply leaned down to take the whole length in her mouth. Her mouth feels so warm and Natasha gathered Wanda's hair in her hands

"That's good, baby. Nice and slow for me."

Wanda continued sucking Natasha's length but was suddenly stopped by the spy. "Ride me, baby. Reverse cowgirl, yes?"

This position is one of Wanda's favorite. She can already anticipate how Natasha is going to fill her up from behind. She trusts that Natasha will be able to hold her weight since her girlfriend has muscles for days. The stretch in her walls was so satisfying as she sank down. "Oh god, love. You feel so good inside me."

"Uh-huh. You've been a good girl for me, Wanda. It's time for me to properly fuck you. Lean back."

Wanda did as she's told and Natasha planted her feet on the ground to stabilise herself and gripped on Wanda's hips.

"Natasha, please move."

"As you wish, Princess."

The redhead started her thrust slowly, feeling how Wanda's heated core is clenching on her cock. The tightness of her pussy is so addicting. Hearing her girlfriend moaning her name pushed her to pound from below.

"Yes! Right there, right there! Please don't stop!"

"I miss this pussy so much. You're all I think about whenever I'm away." Natasha reached down and played with Wanda's clit. Wanda whined even more for the added sensation.

"Natasha, baby. I want to see your face. Please."

They changed their position again and now, Wanda is laying down on the blanket and Natasha on top of her. Wanda immediately wrapped her legs around Natasha's waist.

The spy didn't waste anymore seconds and penetrated Wanda with so much force. "Baby, you're so tight. Jesus, I'm not going to last long."

"I'm close. I'm close! Please go faster!" Wanda clawed Natasha's arms as the older woman pounded her from above.

"Ahhh shit! Wanda, Wanda!" Natasha pulled out after a while and felt proud of herself when she saw how Wanda's pussy was oozing with her cum.

"Look at that, I gave you a creampie. Don't move, I'll take a photo of this." The spy held Wanda's legs up so her seeds won't spill out and took a photo of Wanda's abused hole.

"You're so bad, Natasha."

"You enjoy it when I'm being bad," Natasha whispered, her fingers deftly adjusting Wanda's dress and Natasha put on her pants as well. "Come here."

Leaning against the sturdy tree, Natasha motioned for Wanda to settle into her lap.

"I feel so happy when you're home," Wanda confessed, her gaze soft as she gently held Natasha's face. "I wish you didn't have to leave. Every time you go on a mission, it feels like my heart's being torn in two."

"I hate being apart from you, my love," Natasha replied, her voice tinged with sincerity. "But you know I can't refuse the missions they assign me."

Wanda nodded, her eyes clouded with concern. "I understand that, but I can't help but worry. I'm afraid something might happen to you out there."

Natasha's heart ached at Wanda's genuine concern, knowing that every mission brought a new set of risks.

"Hey, I have a little something for you," the spy's voice held a hint of excitement as she retrieved a ring from her pocket, presenting it to Wanda. "I snagged this while I was chasing my target in the bustling streets of Hungary. I had to duck into an alley to avoid pursuit, and there was this street vendor selling jewelries. This ring, it just reminded me of you, and I can't even remember how much I handed the vendor, I was in such a rush."

"Natasha! You really can't resist, can you? Buying me a ring while you're in the middle of chasing a target," Wanda exclaimed, affectionately slapping Natasha's arm.

Natasha grinned, undeterred. "It's worth it, my love." Carefully, she slid the ring onto Wanda's right hand. "See? It fits you perfectly."

Wanda examined the ring closely, her eyes lighting up. "It's beautiful."

Wanda couldn't help but feel a lump in her throat. Her heart swelled with love for the woman beside her. "You're too sweet for me," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and affection.

Natasha leaned in, brushing a strand of Wanda's hair away from her face. Their eyes locked in an intimate connection. "Only for you, detka. I love you."

"What do you think about round 2?" Wanda suggested wickedly.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm going to ruin you."

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha x wanda #wandanat #wandanat fanfiction #wlw #marvel

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 48/48: Epilogue

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

May 29, 2001

Tonight we bring you an update on the conspiracy that continues to rock the States. Ten months after exposing the major players behind the now defunct Spurious Project, three men identified only as “The Lone Gunmen” were awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, with one of the three men being awarded the medal with distinction due to injuries sustained during an attempted assassination by Spurious operatives.  

As millions of Americans continue to line up to have microchips containing false memories of a global pandemic removed from their necks, the search continues for the individuals at the heart of the project: identified only as ‘subject 101-1’ and ‘subject 101-2.’ While their precise role in the project remains unclear, sources state that they should be considered victims. 

The Spurious Project is purported to be the largest and most well-orchestrated attempt to mislead the public in recorded history. Any Canadian citizen who visited the States between February and March of 2000, or who received a vaccination for the Manatua Virus, should see their doctor as soon as possible to be scanned for a microchip and have it removed if necessary. 

There’s a knock at the door, and Frenchie barks sharply as she skitters across the hardwood. Scully turns the TV off before hoisting herself out of her armchair, fruitlessly attempting to quiet Frenchie with verbal commands. Halfway to the door there’s another knock, and she calls out, “Just a minute!” as she shuffles the rest of the way, already out of breath. On the other side she finds a little boy with messy blonde hair and an RC car hanging from his fingertips, the remote tucked under his arm. 

“Can Zack play?” the boy asks without preamble. 

“Sure,” Scully huffs, then turns to shout down the hallway. “Bear! Micah’s here!”

A moment later Peter trudges down the hall, his own RC car in hand. Scully grabs him by the back of his shirt collar as he prepares to wordlessly walk out the door, and he stops and tips his face up to look at her. His body has softened in the intervening months, rounding out his face and padding his hips beneath his sweatpants. 

“Watch for the car please, okay? Daddy and Bunny will be back from the airport soon.”

Peter nods, and she takes his chin in her hand and kisses his forehead before sending him outside. She watches him walk shoulder-to-shoulder across the lawn beside Micah and tells herself that he’s a typical little boy. One who is fiercely independent because he subconsciously doesn’t expect the adults in his life to meet his needs. One who struggles to stop eating when he’s full because his body remembers a time when his next meal wasn’t guaranteed. One who hoards everything from Q-tips to granola bars in his room, just in case. But he fits right in with the kids in the neighborhood, and is excited to start kindergarten in the fall. Typical, considering all he’s been through, and she’s grateful for it. 

The oven timer beeps and she makes her way to the kitchen, the warm vanilla smell in the air making her mouth water. It’s just a boxed cake, nothing fancy, but she feels emotional as she sets it on top of the oven to cool and gets out supplies for decorating. 

Her life now would be completely unrecognizable to the person she was a year ago, a fact that both relieves and saddens her. As difficult as that time was, it wasn’t all bad. There were happy memories made, and there are people she still misses, as well as places. But the home they’ve made here is a permanent one, both for the sake of the children who have enough to contend with without another international move, and because the risk of returning to the States is simply not one they are willing to take. 

She hears the crunch of tires on gravel and her belly does a nervous little flip, which strikes her as silly. She can’t decide whether to meet them on the front porch, or in the driveway, or maybe just stay here in the kitchen. She’s still pondering this when the screen on the back door snaps and Abby walks in, eyeing Scully curiously as she examines the sweet-smelling cake.  

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Abby asks, and Scully forces herself to smile.

“Yeah, sweetpea, I’m just a little nervous,” she says, reaching out to run her hand through the child’s short-cropped hair, now devoid of blonde. Abby tenses reflexively at her touch, but Scully ignores it. “Did you have fun going to the airport with Daddy?” 

Abby nods, watching Scully’s face. She’s always watching her, measuring her mood and anticipating her reactions. The casual observer would deduce that they’re incredibly close, based on the way Abby never lets Scully out of her sight, but the truth is much more complicated than that. Abby can’t relax unless she knows that Scully is relaxed. She cannot feel safe in a place where Scully is present unless she has taken steps to prophylactically placate her. The outside world sees a little girl who dotes on her mother, but Scully sees a little girl who perceives her mother as a potential threat that she must constantly monitor. It gets better week over week, month over month, and Scully has faith that someday Abby won’t flinch when she reaches for her. 

“Oh my god.”

Scully turns away from Abby and towards the sound of her mother’s voice. She’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands held over her mouth and her eyes shining. 

“Mom,” Scully says, rushing towards her, tears already pooling in her eyes. 

They embrace awkwardly, both laughing, and just the smell of her mother’s skin, her laundry soap, her shampoo, makes Scully feel like a little girl again. She wishes she could crawl into Maggie’s lap and tell her how hard it’s been, and how much she’s needed her. 

“Look at you,” Maggie says, leaning away and laying a palm on the tight drum of Scully’s stomach. “You look beautiful.”

Scully laughs uncomfortably. “I feel like a whale,” she says. “Sorry I didn’t come to the airport. I can’t sit down for more than twenty minutes without my sciatica acting up.”

“It’s okay,” Maggie says, beaming as she looks between Scully’s belly and her face. “I’m just glad I was finally able to come see you.”

“How long are you staying, Maggie?” Mulder asks as he lumbers in with a bag in each hand as well as one under each arm. “I think you packed for the apocalypse.”

“Oh, half of that is gifts for the kids,” Maggie says, taking two of the bags. “I have a lot of missed spoiling to make up for.”

-

After dinner, Scully brings out the carefully decorated cake and sets it on the table. The mood shifts to something somber as she props up the only two photos they have of Cal against the cake stand: the one of the four of them that Maggie gave her that first day when she woke up in the hospital in Baltimore, as well as the ID Byers had created when they thought Cal would be traveling with them to Canada. She’d secreted them across the border in her luggage against Tom’s direction, unwilling to risk the children forgetting him completely, which she is now exceedingly grateful for. 

“Happy Birthday in Heaven, Daddy,” Abby says as Scully lights the lone candle. 

They sing a low-energy rendition of the birthday song, and the kids blow the candle out together. Their memories of Cal are hazy and don’t feel nearly as significant to them as they do to Scully, but she is steadfastly committed to ensuring that they never forget how much he loved them, all three of them, and that he is remembered for the good he did in this world. 

Scully does the dishes, smiling to herself as she listens to Maggie quiz the children on their lives in the next room. Despite losing their implanted memories of their grandmother, both Abby and Peter seem very comfortable with her, which is a relief. She hears Mulder’s feet on the linoleum before he steps up behind her, running his hands in wide circles over the sides of her belly. 

“Seems like everyone’s getting along,” he says, resting his chin on the crown of her head. 

She feels a flash of foolishness remembering how she cried to him the night before, terrified that the children would receive her mother as a stranger, or that celebrating Cal’s birthday would trigger one of Abby’s flashbacks, or a myriad of other things that would create tension and stress so close to the baby’s impending arrival. Pregnancy has made her feel like an imposter in her own body, betrayed by her unpredictable emotions, and Mulder has been exceedingly patient and supportive with both her and the kids as they adjust to their new circumstances. 

There are still holes in the patchwork of his memory, some pinpricks and some gaping. He’s himself, but a slightly less restless version than she knew before their lives were stolen from them and returned in increments. Still searching and endlessly curious, but not quite so tortured by the unanswerable questions as he once was. Still busy and preoccupied, but not to the degree that he can’t set his current fixation aside and be present with his new family. It’s difficult to say whether the change in him is due to how completely his life has been turned upside down in less than a year, or if maybe some of the memories he never recovered were the ones that haunted him the most. Regardless of the reason, she’s been pleasantly surprised by how easily he’s fallen into the roles of husband and father.  

He bends down a little, hooking his chin over her shoulder and slipping his hands under the water alongside hers. Scully smiles and glances toward the living room, then pushes her backside against him to the greatest degree that she’s able, given her belly and the obstruction of the countertop. 

“Are you trying to start something, Mrs. Manningham?” he asks playfully. 

Scully tilts her head to the side and Mulder kisses her neck. 

“At first I thought it was infatuation,” he sings quietly, brushing his lips across her skin. “But oooo it’s lasted so long. Now I find myself wanting to marry you and take you home.”

Scully closes her eyes and sways back and forth, feeling so happy it almost hurts. Then the tears come, as they are wont to do, running down her chin and leaving wet splotches on the gray cotton T-shirt stretched over her belly. Mulder doesn’t ask her what’s wrong or make a fuss over it, he just dries his hands and then her cheeks, then kisses her and tells her to go visit with her mom while he finishes in the kitchen. 

By the time the kitchen is cleaned up and the children are in bed, Scully is too exhausted to socialize any further, and she excuses herself to take a bath while Mulder and Maggie share a bottle of wine. In the tub, she wets a washcloth and lays it over her belly for warmth, more relaxed than she can remember feeling in quite some time. She hears her mother laugh from the living room and she smiles and closes her eyes. She must have started to drift, because her belly is suddenly cold and Mulder is crouched beside the tub, brushing his index finger down the bridge of her nose. 

“I thought we agreed to no sleeping in the bath,” he admonishes her lightly, the sour smell of wine on his breath. 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she mumbles, sitting up and taking his hand as he helps her out of the tub. 

They both get ready for bed and he curls himself around her beneath the covers, one hand resting on her belly. 

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly. 

“Hmmm, tired,” she says on a yawn, hoping he takes the hint. 

“I mean emotionally. Having your mom here, Cal’s birthday. You holding up okay?”

With great effort she rolls to her back, her belly protruding towards the ceiling like a mountain summit. The baby squirms, jabbing her rib cage uncomfortably, and she grabs Mulder’s hand to lay it over the place where he might be able to feel movement. 

“I’m really good, actually,” she says. “It feels like…closure, maybe. Or something similar to that. Like we can finally start moving forward.”

Mulder nods, giving her three quick kisses before she rolls back to her side. She falls asleep quickly, no longer afraid that someone is about to break the door down and take away everything that matters. No longer feeling like her life is not her own. 

She dreams that dream again, the one with the green countertops and Mulder spinning her around in his kitchen. The one of a love so strong that neither man nor science could destroy it. The one that she simply wouldn’t forget, no matter how hard they tried to make her. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles #thexfiles

[kokofromwattpad]

OUT OF GRASP

Featuring: Tomie Kawakami

Plot: You are Tomie's first real relationship. You both absolutely adore the other to bits. But what happens when someone decides to try and take her attention away from you.

Cw: Tomie is aware of what she is able to do, established relationship, gn!reader, Tomie x reader, set in the model chapter

A/N: I love Tomie with my entire being. I even have her manga set.

Tomie is in complete adoration of you. She is still in total shock that you reciprocated her undying love to you.

The two of you live in a relatively large apartment together. You are basically the housewife. Tomie goes out and seduces the rich and famous to bring back money to you.

In public, she makes sure to wear a head scarf and sunglasses as to not attract any paparazzi's attention to her.

Even after spending day after day, manipulating people for her own personal and materialistic gain, she always makes sure to come back home to you, no matter if she has died or not.

It was actually quite surprising how deeply in love she was with you. Time after time, she has died, with all her memories in tact. And after her new self walks through the doorway of your shared apartment, she falls instantly in love again.

One day, she got a phone call from one of her acquaintances to meet up with one of his friends. When she told you this news, you were already prepared for the worst. You were already fully aware of what your girlfriend was and what she was able to do.

"Alright, but remember, please try and stay safe. I know how things go and I just want you to be alright." you softly whispered into her ear as she stood in the front door's hallway.

She smiled happily while she returned your warm hug right back. "Don't worry my love. You can trust me." she said affirmatively.

She met up with the supposed model that her friend told her about with her heart caged and stoned closed.

Over the span of over a month, the model spoiled her with jewelry that she just gave to you, dinners that she didn't even eat and clothes she would have you try on.

Day in and day out, she would bring you goodies from her days out and let you choose anything that you wanted to keep. Obviously, when ever she brought back presents for you, you would make her faviroute meal, caviar and foie gras.

But one day, Tomie went out to see the model again and she never returned home.

You were obviously out of your mind with worry.

You sat in the living room, just watching whatever caught your attention, when suddenly, you heard the door to your apartment open and close.

You quickly jumped up to your already sore feet from pacing and wrapped a fluffy blue blanket around your cold figure.

When you walked into the hallway that led to the door, you saw your girlfriend Tomie stark naked with her beautiful black hair down.

"Darling?! Are you okay? Are you cold?" you speedily said while rushing over to Tomie with the blue blanket open to wrap her up in a fluffy burrito.

Once you successfully trapped your girlfriend in the warm cocoon, you gently led her to your shared bedroom.

You left her to choose something to wear as you started cooking something up for her to eat.

Tomie emerged from the bedroom wearing one of your band shirts and gym shorts. She slowly walked towards you until she was met with your back. She gently wrapped her slender arms around your torso tightly.

"You alright darling?" you asked her.

"Yes, just a bit shaken up..." she softly replied.

You gently smiled to yourself while you finished up with dinner.

With Tomie still attached to your torso, you dragged her into the living and made her sit down.

You placed a pillow on her lap and then a white tray with her favorite food on. She smiled widely at her lap while you sat next to her and started scrolling through Netflix.

She was bursting with joy once she finished her meal and she set her tray on the coffee table in front of her.

She wrapped her arms around your body as you pulled a second blanket from your right and wrapped it around the two of you.

For the rest of the night, the two of you cuddled until you both fell asleep.

You were painfully unaware of what your girlfriend had done to that model.

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

#Junji ito #Tomie #tomie kawakami #tomie x reader #tomie kawakami x reader #fluff #junji ito's collection #OUT OF GRASP #kokooriginals #kokofluff #kokowrites

[jihyocentric]

sugarmommy mina gp dahyun, mina has been stressed all week from work and when she gets home one day dahyun prepared a hearty meal for her and took care for her and in return she asks dahyun to take the lead (uhh let's say dahyun tops here but not as much) And then they have a great weekend just relaxing

i do hope this is okay and not confusing, have a great day! thank you!

have a nice day as well! and thank you for requesting mihyun, i really wanted to write them 🤍

-

mina couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh the moment she brought the fork to her mouth. dahyun's food, although not polished or made with specific technique as the food she ate at fancy restaurants she frequented often, was still the best. especially when she'd just arrived home hungry and tired.

"is it good?" dahyun asks, her plate still full as she watched mina eat first.

"delicious, baby. thank you for doing this." mina says, her shoulders losing the tension little by little. "don't just look at me, eat your food."

"okay," dahyun smiles, and mina finds the cracks at the corner of her eyes lovely. before dahyun gets a taste of her own hard work, she stops and looks at mina, wanting to say something she'd calculated in her head before putting to action. "you're just too pretty for me not to look at."

mina squints and thinks that maybe dahyun is spending too much time with nayeon. but she doesn't comment on it. "flatterer."

dahyun knew the best way to avoid mina from being distraught for long. as someone who ran her own business, mina was frequently stressed and dahyun didn't like the amount of pills she'd take to ease her headaches, so she found a better solution to mina's problems. and that was showing mina love by taking care of her. it was dahyun's routine, and she'd never get tired of it.

mina kissed dahyun's lips tenderly before joining her in the bathtub, feeling already better after eating a meal made with love, moaning at the feeling of the warm water untying the knots of her muscles. her back found dahyun's front for support, sighing softly when dahyun massaged her shoulders.

the younger kisses her shoulder, and then hugs her waist firmly, wanting to let mina know she's there to give her comfort.

"want to tell me how was your day?" dahyun asks. she deliberately ignores the way mina's skin brushes against her length, because it wasn't the right time for that, as mina was clearly tired.

"same old," mina plays with dahyun's hands. "you wouldn't want to hear it. it's boring."

"nothing is boring when it comes to you. tell me," dahyun insists, making mina smile at the sweetness behind her words.

mina then grants dahyun's wishes, telling her everything she'd done, leaving the boring part of her job to the side. she skips the whole bureaucratic part and talks about the new projects she's working on, such as expanding the business to overseas. dahyun listens attentively, not quite understanding everything mina says, getting confused with words in a foreign language that she can't figure out the meaning, but she loves to hear mina's voice nonetheless.

after the water runs cold, both of them leave, dry themselves and get ready to bed. mina looks better than how she was when she arrived and dahyun is relieved by seeing her more like herself. as the usual, dahyun hugs mina's waist as they lie down, kisses the top of mina's head and relaxes completely, hoping they can have a good night of sleep.

but mina seemingly doesn't want to sleep soon. she turns around and kisses dahyun, more intensely than the last kisses she'd given her, but still gentle.

"do you love me?" mina asks, and dahyun opens her eyes, as if she's confused.

"more than anything." dahyun replies without hesitancy.

mina brushes her thumb across the fair skin of dahyun's cheek. "then show it to me. please."

the times where mina asked for that were rare, but dahyun savored every second of it. making love to the woman she loved wasn't uncommon, but mina would always take the lead, it was her nature to be the guidance. dahyun guessed the stress had really gotten to her, because now mina was needy and unlike herself — and dahyun loved it.

after making a quick work to get their clothes off, all while pressing tender kisses against mina's skin, dahyun settles between mina's legs, holding the back of mina's knees, face to face with her as the head of her length popped inside, making both of them gasp.

"i love you so much," dahyun mutters, her face carrying a faint blush as she slides inch after inch inside mina's welcoming core.

it feels soothing really, the way dahyun treats her with utmost care and takes her time paying attention to every inch of mina's body she possibly can touch and kiss. mina's tummy quivers, relishing in the way the shaft filled her, her manicured hands scratching dahyun's back instinctively, not enough to draw blood but it made dahyun grunt at the slight pain.

"i love you too," mina tells her, bringing dahyun closer by her nape so their foreheads were touching. "finish inside of me."

dahyun whimpers at the thought of filling mina up. they'd always have protected sex or dahyun would pull out, so this was new and her hips faltered at the lewdness of mina's request, making her thrust into her more passionately. mina moans, the sound was the closest to a whine dahyun had ever heard coming from mina and it made her unload right away, rubbing mina's clit to get her to follow her into the pleasure.

dahyun doesn't think she'd ever came that much, and she's scared of pulling out and making a mess. mina's walls tightening around her make her spill even more of her seed, kissing her neck as both of them come down from their high.

"that was so good," dahyun breaks the silence, her voice muffled in mina's neck. "i kinda want more. no, i really want more."

mina sighs when dahyun moves and her shaft sinks in deeper. "i want it too, but i'm tired, baby." dahyun pouts, and though mina can't see it, she can feel it. "we have all weekend to repeat it. don't be sad."

"okay." dahyun sighs. she pulls out of mina, grabbing a tissue on the nightstand quick enough, so none of her seed leaked to the sheets. she cleans herself and cleans mina, throwing the used tissues at the bin, then goes back to spooning mina. "sleep tight, love."

dahyun gets nothing more than a drowsy 'hmm', smiling when she realizes mina is already fast asleep.

#anon #mina #dahyun #mihyun #g!p #fill

[astarlow]

can we get headcanons of a couple of ow girls (your choice) as the reader's roommates please?

Characters: D.Va, Zarya, Sombra Form: Headcanons Warning: None Word Count: 801

D.Va

🐰Fun times all day long baby

🐰I really hope you don’t mind the slight screaming or the constant talking in the middle of the night

🐰Because that’s basically what will happen

🐰Still, Hana is considerate of your person. If you do really mind it, she’ll try to change her schedule and sound-proofed her room

🐰If you’re willing, she’s going to invite you to her streams. She has plenty of games.

🐰The first time you came to her streams, her chat kept spamming “And they were roommates” with other suggestive emojis

🐰The mods had a hard time handling the ones that went overboard

🐰You had to ask her why she was so red at the time and she just avoided your question

🐰But being Hana’s roommate isn’t all fun and games

🐰That’s noticeable when she comes back from missions bruised and weary

🐰Most of the time, you are asleep but on the rare occasions where you are awake, you take care of her

🐰She always brushes it off, putting on her D.Va persona but you know better than that now

🐰In the confines of your shared home, you want her to know she can rely on other people too

🐰She often has nightmares so I hope you’re okay with her asking to sleep with you to calm her racing heart down

🐰If you’re a night owl, you even take her out to have a little stroll in the city

🐰She thanks you by gifting you tons of trinkets 

Zarya

💪Being roommate with Aleksandra is refreshing

💪She’s waking up early but she tries to be as quiet as possible, knowing you are still asleep

💪She makes breakfast for you two then leaves for her morning jogging

💪If you’re awake, she doesn’t hesitate to ask you if you want to come with her

💪She has tons of plushes in her bedroom, when she was younger it used to soothe her between all the explosions and shots being fired, nowadays she keeps them because she likes them

💪If you ever need one, she won’t hesitate to let you borrow one or two or even her whole collection, just promise you will take care

💪Doing sport together! She’s going to propose musculation first because it’s her field but if you don’t like it, she’s going to try other sports too. As long as she can keep her body fit

💪If you don’t like sports, she won’t force you but she still tells you to take care of your body. Just a walk around the park is already a good step

💪Another busy soldier too

💪When she tells you she’s going to come home after a mission, you make sure to run a bath for her. She’s always surprised when you do but a good kind of surprise. She thanks you by hugging you like “big, fuzzy Siberian bear”

💪She loves cooking for you! So don’t be surprised if meals are already prepared in the fridge and you just have to warm them up to eat them

Sombra

💻Sombra is definitely an interesting roommate

💻She’s super open with you, and often plays pranks on you as well but she is definitely secretive about her work too

💻She knows way too much about you while you barely know her name (you don’t)

💻She tells you she works on computers and cybersecurity but you have a feeling she isn’t telling you everything

💻You don’t mind as long as she doesn’t bring trouble to your shared flat

💻She likes to play pranks on you, as previously said, nothing too major though. She likes to frighten you in the middle of the night. It can go from faking an intrusion or just disguising herself as a monster. She likes having a little bit of fun, sometimes to your dismay. One harmless prank she likes to pull is putting googly eyes all over your stuff. From all sizes. To put on your mugs, your clothes, your phone. Everything

💻In return, you attempt to pull pranks on her back. Though you never enter her room. That’s the one big rule you agreed upon and never shall you cross it. 

💻So it’s mostly in the living room your pranks are being played. You like to put wasabi in her food, replacing the ground coffee with dirt. Though you leave half of it so it actually has a good consistency

💻Let’s just say your household is definitely lively

💻Free movies from her so it means a movie session every week with her! Not only movies, she tells you she can give you free streaming services too. As long as it’s on the internet, she can give it to you for free. A part of her job she says

💻At the end of the day, you wouldn’t have any other roommate than Sombra

#d.va x reader #zarya x reader #sombra x reader #hana song x reader #aleksandra zaryanova x reader #olivia colomar x reader #asked and answered #ow writing

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @nostringsdetached zine! Zen and Jaehee are my favs, so what’s better than giving MC two hands so she can have both?

…

…

…

…

There were very few things that Zen loved more than being nestled between his two princesses. With their hands hooked in the crook of his arms, their warmth radiating through his jacket, and electric mix of their two scents combining, it was hard for him to remember exactly what those other things were. It was hard, honestly, to think of anything at all as they walked home.

Home. Zen felt utterly soft at the thought of it. He’d never thought of his basement apartment as anything but the place he laid down, but now it was a place filled with the bitter scent of coffee, with the constant clacking of a keyboard. It was a place where the lights were almost always on when he returned from practice. It was home.

For all of his acting, he couldn’t stop smiling at the thought. Fortunately, it was dark this evening and neither Jaehee nor MC noticed it. To his right, MC hummed softly under her breath, an empty grocery bag swinging off her free arm as she burrowed into his side. On his left, Jaehee leaned on him ever so slightly. Despite how chilly it was this fall, giving her the perfect cover excuse for some PDA, she was always too self-conscious to take full advantage of it.

It was adorable. Zen pulled her closer, ignoring her surprised squeak. “Feeling warmer now, princess?”

Jaehee flushed a bright red, the colour spreading to the tips of her ears. She coughed and looked away, embarrassed, but she didn’t pull away. “Y-yes, thanks.” Immediately, she changed the subject. “What should we make for dinner?”

“Something warm,” MC suggested cheerfully. “A soup.”

“I’d like that too.” He wanted to bury them both in his coat, to give them a little extra heat. Unfortunately, they’d get nowhere that way. At least they’d already changed into their fall coats, thanks to Jaehee’s preparations. The only thing missing were their hats, gloves, and scarves, and he had no doubt Jaehee was already planning to pull them out of wherever she stored them.

“What type though…” MC tapped her chin as she pondered the question. Her nose scrunched adorably.

“Or a hot pot,” Zen added. The three of them sitting around a small table together—he always loved it when they shared meals like that. It was intimate, familial, and he never knew how much he longed to eat with others till they’d stepped into his apartment.

“A hot pot sounds nice,” Jaehee agreed, already pulling out her phone. “I’ll get a list ready.”

MC laughed, leaning forward slightly so she could see Jaehee. “You’re always so ready.”

“I haven’t been Jumin’s assistant for all these years for nothing,” Jaehee replied with a smile. “He is surprisingly spontaneous for such a serious man.”

“But only when it comes to his C-A-T.” There was a mischievous glint in MC’s eyes as she looked up at him, her lips curled into a sly smirk. She’d been spending too much with Seven. Or maybe Elizabeth.

Just the thought of the little monster made his nose tickle and he glared at her balefully. “Spelling it doesn’t make it better!”

“You know saying it doesn’t actually mean it’s here, right?” MC sighed fondly, shaking her head. “Oh, let’s have hot chocolate too!”

Jaehee frowned, giving MC a horrified look. “The tastes will clash.”

“Well, you’re not making coffee, so hot chocolate has to do,” MC replied, pouting slightly.

“That’s because I still have to finish studying it!” Jaehee replied indignantly. “I can’t give you an inferior product.”

Zen chuckled. They’d had this argument so many times now. Despite how much they’d praised her, her confidence in her skills was next to nil. The dream of opening a coffee shop would have to wait a little. “We’d still love it.”

“But—”

“And everything you make is amazing,” MC chimed in, determined.

“I…I’ll think about it.” Jaehee looked pleased.

Feeling utterly comfortable, Zen pulled them to a stop in front of a park.

“Zen?” MC looked at him questioningly.

He didn’t say anything as he steered them into the empty playground. Clasping their hands in his, he brought up Jaehee’s to his lips. “Jaehee.” He gently kissed the back of her hand. “MC.” He kissed her hand next. “I got the part.”

They stared at him for half a second, blinking rapidly as they processed the news. Immediately, Jaehee’s hand slipped out of his, already opening her calendar on her phone. “What date? I’ll make sure to buy tickets, and we’ll have a party—”

At the same time, MC gripped his hands tightly, practically bouncing on her heels as she beamed up at him. “Wow!!” She stood on her tiptoes, kissing him softly. “Congrats! You should have told us earlier!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured, basking in their love.

MC giggled. “We’re definitely surprised. What’s the play?”

“And don’t think of getting us tickets,” Jaehee added, looking up from her phone expectantly. Despite her fanmode switching on (and Zen was pretty sure she’d always react like this to his performances, always overeager to celebrate his successes), she reached forward to squeeze his hand lovingly. “We’re supporting your work.”

He almost wants to kiss them right then and there, but he hadn’t finished telling them the news yet. The beast would just have to wait a little longer. Clearing his throat, he corrected, “It’s not a play.”

“It’s not?” Jaehee blinked, confused.

Zen can’t stop himself from grinning. “It’s the lead in a movie.”

They react as expected. If they’d been shocked before, they were utterly frozen now. Mouths agape, eyes wide, their grip loose as they processed everything—it was utterly adorable. He almost takes a photo to remember it all.

“A movie?” MC finally asked, the first to recover. Her voice was a low shriek, and he’d been right to take them to the empty park for this.

Jaehee rubbed her ears, still shell-shocked. “Did I mishear?”

“No, it’s a movie,” he repeated, his smile growing broader.

“Oh my god!!!” MC grabbed his arms again, almost jumping on him as she kissed his cheek excitedly. “That’s amazing!”

Even Jaehee, for once, got over her shyness and grabbed his hand. Squeezing it gently, she leaned against him. “Congrats. You did it. You made it.”

Her words had the weight of someone who’d watched his struggles from the beginning, and Zen pulled her closer, pressing a kiss on her head. “I did, didn’t I?”

“We’re having a viewing party,” MC announced, her face still flushed with excitement. “I’m sure we can convince Jumin to rent a theatre for this.”

“Jumin…” Zen grimaced.

Ignoring his frown, Jaehee pulled away and took out her phone once more. “I’ll get some DVDs to record it on.” She stopped, looking utterly unsure of herself. “Wait, no, that’ll happen anyways, it’s a movie.”

“Official merch?” MC suggested. “There’s got to be some of that.”

“Right!” Jaehee breathed in, finding her footing once more. “Okay, we’ll have to scour for that.”

There was a reason that Zen stopped taking constant selfies, and that reason was right in front of him. He didn’t need the validation, not when he had these two confirming his existence with every breath, reminding him of his worth with every conversation.

Zen wanted to hug them, so he did. He wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close, ignoring their surprised squeaks as he buried them in his coat. As they look up, he swoops down to kiss them. A slow, languid one with MC, a gentle, breathless one with Jaehee. They’re bright red and flushed, and he would never get over this reaction. He hoped they would do it still when they were old and grey.

He wanted to be with them until he was old and grey.

MC turned her head slightly, smiling at Jaehee. “You’re making him coffee tonight.”

“What?” Jaehee squeaked again, not expecting that at all.

“He’s your first customer.” MC squirmed slightly in his arms but didn’t escape his grip. Her side pressed against his chest, she reached forward and grabbed Jaehee’s hand and squeezed it tight. “If his big dream is coming true, it’s time we made yours real too.”

“But…” Jaehee trailed off.

It wasn’t a no. Zen nodded, pressing a kiss against Jaehee’s forehead. “Can I be your first customer?”

It was utterly unfair of him, he knew. She ducked her head slightly, mumbling, “Fine.” Her ears were a bright red. “But I’m not making the coffee shop yet, so let’s set that aside for now.”

“For now,” MC agreed, leaning forward to kiss Jaehee too.

Removing his right hand, Zen pulled out his phone, his thumb quickly activating the camera. Noticing his actions, MC laughed. “Selfie-time?”

“Nope,” he replied, shaking his head. Keeping them close, he snapped a shot of the three of them.

It was a family portrait, though he wasn’t ready to say that aloud. Not until he found the right words to propose.

#mystic messenger #jaehee kang #zen #ryu hyun #zen x mc #jaehee x mc #zen x jaehee x mc #fanfic #zen is so cheesy #which makes anything with him the absolute fluffiest things i will ever write

[intoevernightfanfic]

Instead of a regular WIP Wednesday, I wanted to share a really cute scene I had to cut for pacing's sake from the second part of the Courtesans series, After the Spring Has Come (Rated MA).

Scene Rating: T

Word Count: 1,775

Additional Tags (for this scene): Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Pregnancy, Established Relationship

--

After her conversation with Tomoe about what it would be like to have a family, Nanami felt more comfortable with the fact that she was pregnant. She even let herself look forward to becoming a mother, even if it was a little daunting. Tomoe’s confidence in their ability to raise children together, to be good parents, alleviated her anxiety, because she knew he’d be by her side. And he’d always care for her.

Over the duration of the next several weeks, he proved that anew — fussing over her, cooking her nutritious meals and ensuring she ate plenty. When she came home tired from work, he massaged her shoulders and feet. He always had a warm basin of water ready for her to wash up and relax, and he tended to the house with more attention than ever. 

And when she came home one evening and found him seated on the floor, a pile of batting beside him as he stuffed a futon, it became more real to her. She was reminded of just how devoted he was to their growing family.

“Welcome home,” he muttered around the needle and thread he held in his mouth.

Her heart fluttered at the sight. With a bright smile, she all but skipped over to him and then threw her arms around his neck. One of his hands fluttered to her back, and he dropped the corner of the futon to his lap.

“You’ve been working so hard,” she said, nuzzling against the side of his head. “It makes me love you even more, but I hope you’re taking breaks.”

It was amusing how suddenly she fretted over his well-being too, he thought, his eyes sparkling. “I am fine. You are the one who is pregnant,” he replied, using his free hand to pluck the needle from his lips, not wanting to accidentally pierce her with it. He set it aside in the small chest he’d positioned next to him. “Besides, it is best to prepare now, before I must harvest the second flush.”

She squeezed him. “I can help out too, you know. I’d like to help get ready for the baby.”

“Mm, you will.” He kissed the side of her head. “But I am quite good at this. This is my purpose.” He patted her back. “I do not mind.”

Pulling back, she shot him a smile, then tucked some of the longer hairs from his face. “Are you nesting?” she teased.

His brow wrinkled. “Nesting? A new futon will have to be made either way.”

A giggle left her. “I know. I’m kidding.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s just…you know. Foxes.”

“Foxes have dens, not nests,” he replied, lips twisting in a smirk. “You are being ridiculous.”

“So? I think it’s cute,” she mumbled, one hand slipping into the back of his hair. She shifted into his lap.

“Mm, no, you think you are being cute,” he teased, then gifted her a quick kiss, one that she returned in the fleeting moment he allowed. “Perhaps you are right.”

As he nosed along her jaw line, his ears laying back, Nanami glanced at the half-sewn futon. She stroked one of his ears, humming in thought. “Maybe I need to learn to sew better,” she said aloud. “Then I can help you.”

“No need.” He nipped at her earlobe to reprimand her for even the suggestion. “I have already made blankets and am nearly finished with the bedding.”

“But we’ll need clothes—” she began.

“I have already started that,” he interrupted.

She pouted. “Aw, Tomoe, but picking out baby clothes is part of the fun.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Is it, now?” He nudged her nose with his own, looking into her eyes. “There will be plenty of opportunity for that. We may go to pick out fabrics together the next time a merchant comes to town.”

“Will you teach me how to make clothes?” She tilted her head, holding his gaze. “I’d like to make something for our child too.”

“Yes. I will show you after you have eaten your dinner—”

“Actually, can you give me a short lesson now?” She rubbed him behind an ear, expression pleading. “I ate my lunch kind of late, so I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”

He would rather she ate first, he thought with a grimace. But her hopeful expression and her shining eyes and her intent stare swayed him. Just like it always did. “If our children have your eyes, then I am in trouble,” he muttered. He declined to clarify that it was because he couldn’t say no. “Very well. Sit beside me. I will show you a basic stitch.”

She scrambled to flop beside him and then pressed her hands together, uttering a word of gratitude. As soon as she’d removed herself from his lap, he rose and went to the chest in the corner, where he removed a dark blue fabric with the sleeves cut yet flapping open, not yet fastened at the seams. He brought it to her and resumed his seat, then laid it over her lap.

Running a hand over the fabric, Nanami smiled dreamily, admiring the buttery material beneath her fingertips. “This is really nice. Have you always made your kimonos?”

“I have bought some ready made. Others I have had tailored. But I have made my own at times too,” he replied, carefully folding the fabric at the edges.

“Did someone teach you?” she asked, paying rapt attention to how he draped the fabric.

“I have deconstructed old kimono to learn,” he replied. “If you pay attention, you can teach yourself.”

“Maybe…” She wasn’t so sure she’d have the capacity to do something like that, but yokai learned quickly. They were pretty amazing, she thought, gazing at Tomoe’s face, watching his pupils sweep over the garment as he studied the alignment.

Once he was satisfied, he stuck a few pins to hold it in place, and then retrieved a needle and silk thread. “All clothing is constructed with this one stitch,” he told her. “You must learn to be precise and make your stitches firm.”

She watched him push the needle through, working his way down the seam he’d created. Although he started slow, his speed picked up, fingers flying over the fabric. “Aren’t you worried about poking yourself?” she asked, eyes wide.

“No.” He paused, lifting his head. She was likely to prick her finger and bleed, he thought with a grimace. “You, however, should go very slow.”

When he offered the needle and thread to her, she accepted it, and then hovered a hand over the fabric. Out of her peripheral vision, she spotted him nod, so she delicately pushed the needle through like he’d shown her. The fabric didn’t give as much as she’d imagined it would, and it was slippery, making it difficult for her to make a clean stitch. She struggled to bring it back through the other side.

“Here, hold it at this angle,” he said, correcting her hold. He pressed her hand, urging her to pierce the fabric again.

Gradually, she got the hang of it, and he withdrew his touch. For several minutes, she continued this endeavor, eyes glued to the action. But her stitches were clumsy, and they weren’t spaced evenly, and she felt her frustration brewing. Compared to Tomoe’s flawless craftsmanship, her work was shoddy. She lifted her head and met his eyes.

“How do you fix—?” she began, but then the needlepoint pricked her finger and she yiped. Immediately, she dropped the needle and brought her finger to her mouth. But he caught her wrist.

“Oh, Nanami.” He put her finger in his mouth and sucked on it, licking away the tiny droplet of blood that had surfaced.

Her cheeks grew hot as she realized how badly she’d fumbled. “Ugh, I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m just making more work for you, huh?”

He swept his tongue over her fingertip one more time and then straightened up. “Well, you are learning,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I think that is enough for now.”

“But I barely did anything—” she protested. His sharp look silenced her.

“I will have none of that,” he said, pressing a ginger kiss to her finger. “We may try again later.” He trailed his kisses down her palm to her wrist, earning a slight smile. And when their eyes met, he felt a surge of love inside of him that was so powerful he couldn’t contain it. His tail twitched, and he placed one hand on her side, peppering her palm with kisses.

Normally, she might’ve pushed harder for it, but the way he kissed her made her think he’d prefer her attention over her help around the house. She placed her uninjured hand on his head and stroked his hair, opening her mouth to tease him, but then he caught her around the waist and put her on her back. The next thing she knew, she was staring up at the ceiling, stunned, and his lips had pressed to her collarbone followed by her chest.

“Tomoe?” she began, tone higher pitched.

By now, he’d made his way to her stomach, where his kisses slowed. She sounded anxious, he thought. His tail stopped swaying and he turned his eyes up at her, gaze soft. “I am not going to bed you,” he assured her. “I only wanted to kiss you…and our child.” He pressed another kiss to her belly for good measure.

When he put it that way, she found herself growing weak all over, a whimper dying in her throat. “I wouldn’t have minded. It was just fast,” she whispered, running her fingers through the long strands of his hair.

“I could not help myself. I was overcome,” he retorted in a near complaint, his tail swishing. He kissed her stomach again, caressing the area with a light touch. “I am looking forward to our family very much, Nanami. Thank you for carrying my children.” He gazed up at her, his pupils soft and rounded, a tender smile on his mouth.

Her lower lip quivered, her eyes stinging. The way he looked at her, like she was a star in the sky, touched something so deep within her it was almost painful. She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed his head close to her stomach. “I’m so happy,” she whispered, grinning, cheeks flushed pink. “I love you.”

“And I love you too. I always will.”

He kissed her stomach again, and when she reclined, he followed her. They lay entwined for some time after that, trading gentle touches in lieu of words.

#kamisama hajimemashita #kamisama kiss #kamisama kiss fanfic #kh courtesans

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #253 - starting again

the, ah, movie prompted me? idk I just wanted to write something and you get this shit because of it.

Faint spoilers for Dominion, read at your own risk. 

It is set post-Dominion for those who do want to read. 

AO3

STARTING AGAIN

‘I didn’t think I would ever be happy to see this place.’ Maisie announced, shoes thudding against the wooden steps of their front porch, relief flooding her at finally being home . ‘Nothing has changed.’ It was easy to think they would return home and find it different when they themselves felt changed. The cabin was still standing, the door unlocked exactly how Owen had left it in the rush. The meal Claire had been preparing was still sitting on the counter, rotting after the three days they had been gone. ‘You really just left everything to come and find me.’ Maisie noticed the bric-a-brac on the floor, the door to the gun safe wide open. The cabin was usually in some form of disarray, but never like this.

She hadn’t considered herself important enough to them, despite the last four years. Maisie didn’t fight when her kidnappers asked her to get in the car, didn’t consider that Owen and Claire would be hot on the trail, that they would worry about her at all.

‘Of course we did, Maisie there isn’t an option or scenario where we wouldn’t have dropped everything to come and find you.’ Claire answered, hands warm on Maisie’s shoulders. She shuddered to think what would have happened if Owen hadn’t seen Maisie be taken, how long it would take for them to notice she was gone and how far behind they would have been in finding her. ‘We’ll always come and find you.’

Maisie believed it now, the care they had for her, the love they expressed. She had always believed it in a way, wanted to believe it at least but the last few days finally pushed the realisation into place. They were her parents regardless of where she really came from, regardless of what she thought of herself. They were always going to be there.

‘The poacher, the one that took Beta. He threw your bike into the river.’ Owen announced, a sorry look on his face. He’d been waiting to tell her, knowing her bike was her only form of freedom. ‘I’ll get you a new one.’ He promised, trying to offer a comforting smile.

Maisie shrugged, ‘I can’t go past the bridge. I don’t need a bike.’

‘Well,’ Claire started, the word drawn out. Maisie stared at her, brown eyes watching in anticipation. ‘We were talking,’ she nodded to Owen, ‘and we think some things might change around here.’

Her face almost split in two. ‘I can go into town?’ Maisie was trembling with a million questions, excitement ready to burst at the seams.

Owen stopped her, hand raised gently. ‘We’re gonna play it by ear for a little bit first.’ He warned. They wanted to know what would become of Dodgson, Biosyn and Wu’s plan to alter the locusts before they gave Maisie free roam of the world.

‘But I can go into town?’ She was almost bouncing on the spot, Owen couldn't remember the last time he had seen Maisie this happy.

‘We were thinking … maybe even school …’ Claire added, watching her daughter with mirth that filled her right to the brim. This is what it should have been. Instead of Maisie’s budding teen angst for the last handful of weeks.

Maisie stopped, speechless for a moment. ‘With actual kids, my age?’ Owen nodded, slow and practised knowing the girl was already getting her hopes up on a possibility. ‘Thank you.’ She dived towards Claire, small arms siding inside the flannelette she wore to wrap around her middle. Maisie squeezed, the weight of her hug tugging at a guilty chord inside Claire.

They had kept her from this, the opportunity of friends, a social group beyond two adults and the sheer thought of the promise made Maisie this excited. What have we done? Claire’s eyes burned, tears blurring her vision as the guilt bubbled up. They only wanted to protect Maisie, she wanted to protect Maisie, but they had been hurting her instead. ‘We’re going to start small, ok?’ Claire whispered, feeling Owen’s large palm on her shoulder. There were a lot of things that could change for them now, the suffocation of their isolation was lifting. If Maisie could go to school, they could go out, as a family, and share with Maisie the joys of the world she had been missing. If they didn’t have to hide, they didn’t have to keep living in the woods. The cabin was fine but it was never the home Claire imagined herself in despite Owen’s best efforts to keep them all as comfortable as possible. Maisie nodded against Claire’s chest, accepting the promise she had put out. Her arms squeezed Claire a little tighter, Claire squeezed her back. ‘I’m sorry for keeping you here.’ She pressed a kiss to Maisie’s hair, burying her face against the girl’s head.

‘It’s ok.’ Maisie squeaked. ‘You were just trying to protect me.’ Claire sighed, shoulders sagging with the relief of the girl’s forgiveness. ‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t see it, it does suck being stuck here.’

‘We’re working on it, ok?’ Owen stepped in, wrapping his arms around both Claire and Maisie. ‘We want you to have some freedom, kiddo. We don’t like keeping you cooped up here.’

Maisie let out a deep breath, content and warm in their embrace, thankful for every opportunity that they have to hug again. ‘You’re still going to be my parents, right?’

They both pulled back just to stare at her, faces confused before Claire melted. ‘Of course, sweetheart. We’re not going anywhere.’  

#despite the odds #clawen #maisie lockwood #clawen fic #spoilers #jw spoilers

[claraclette]

𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘀 | Simon Riley x Reader

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟮 | 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗒

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ↬ 𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖴𝗋𝗓𝗂𝗄𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇, 𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋 𝗓𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖬𝖾𝗑𝗂𝖼𝗈, (𝗒/𝗇) (𝗒/𝗅/𝗇)'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗌𝖾: 𝖨𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌? 𝖲𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗇 "𝖦𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍" 𝖱𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗒.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ↬ 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝗈𝗋 | | 𝖦𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗂𝖼 𝖣𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 | 𝖯𝖳𝖲𝖣 | 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺 | 𝖥𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝖠𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖠𝖽𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖲𝗆𝗎𝗍 | 𝖲𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖡𝗎𝗋𝗇 | 𝖥𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 |

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ↬ 𝖠𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌. 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾!  

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 ↬ 𝖠𝖮𝟥 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 | 𝖶𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 | 𝖯𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼̧𝖺𝗂𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗓 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅'𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼̧𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝖠𝖮𝟥 𝗈𝗎 𝖶𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽

𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟤 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟥 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝟦 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟧 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟨 | 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟩 | ... |

───────────────────────────────────

I loved the month of December. Besides the fact that my birthday came at its beginning, the festivities surrounding the end of the year had always had a special place in my heart. They were the perfect opportunity for me to joyfully reunite with my loving family over a warm, festive meal, prepared with love by my father. To return home to the Côte d'Azur, when we were not organising a week-long trip to one of the beautiful European capitals. I loved to decorate our house, and to walk around late at night, to see a thousand and one bright lights flashing in its sleeping corridors. Ever since I was a child, they lulled me with nostalgia, like a nightlight, passing through the gap in my door, reminding me that soon Santa Claus will arrive with a multitude of gifts for me. 

I had always liked to let my little brother have the privilege of putting the star on top of our carefully and overly richly decorated Christmas tree. Now this little joy was left to my little nephew with his sparkling eyes, which made me all the happier. And what a joy it was to be able to admire the grateful looks on his family's faces when the presents were distributed, despite the innocent conversations and heated debates of New Year's Eve, but which provided all the comforting entertainment. And I especially loved Christmas, where the whole family would gather, together, to the sweet music of Crooners so loved by my mother. The children would have fun and the old folks would doze by the crackling fireplace, with glasses of mulled wine in hand. And I talked to my cousins, my aunts and uncles, whom I had not seen since last year. Christmas was always a magical holiday for me. 

And this year, I had the honour of celebrating it in my spacious London flat. On this occasion, I could only welcome my close family, my parents, my little brother and his wife and son. I regretted not being able to invite more people, but my mother was so excited about returning to London that I couldn't refuse her. And how could I not understand her? Christmas in London was simply magical. Lit up on all sides, the glittering garlands and the childlike windows of the shops were such that it was incredible to walk around as early as November, making us momentarily forget the disastrous weather before the first snows. 

But one of my favourite things to do was probably the inevitable Christmas markets, so typical of Europe. My flat nearby, the one in Leicester, in central London, was perfect for a late afternoon, after a family day wandering through the bright city streets. It was small and simple, but it was lovely to walk around to the sound of Christmas carols and the smell of cinnamon and chestnuts roasting on a wood fire.

"Oh look, (y/n)!" My mother suddenly interjected, pointing to a chalet selling handmade decorative ceramics. "Don't these little pots remind you of what William used to do? What a shame you had to leave each other! I was already thinking of planning your wedding, you'll end up an old maid if you go on like this, my (y/n)." She rambled innocently.

I rolled my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart clench, stung to the core by this unpleasant remark that suddenly turned this pleasant outing bittersweet. But I couldn’t even blame her. I had been very evasive about the end of my relationship with William, omitting his infidelity, not wanting to dwell on it. My mother was never at a loss for words, and although she was not trying to hurt me in any way, it was done.

"Mom, leave her alone with this stuff." My brother growled, trying to keep his six-year-old son Gabriel close.

"Don't make me feel like the bad Claudel! I'm saying this for her own good ! You already have your little family, while she is struggling to keep a man in her life. I don't want her to end up alone on her deathbed."

"I still have time to find someone!" I objected, immediately.

"Yes, but your biological clock is ticking, and if you want children, it's now or never."

I pinched my nose bridge, despairing at the turn of this conversation I have had, again and again, with her. France (y/l/n), as loving and caring as she might be, was of the old school and it was unbelievable to her that a woman, in 2018, would not have motherhood as her ultimate goal.

"For God's sake, Mom!" I exasperated myself. "How many times must I tell you that I don't want a child ! Man or not in my life, my opinion will remain unchanged."

"Well, ladies." Appeased my father, always very calm and diplomatic like his son, and contrary to his wife and daughter. "Calm down, or you'll spoil this nice moment for both of us. To think that we had almost gone a day without a fight..."

I saw my mother sigh and mutter to herself:

"I had hoped that you would change your mind when you grew up..."

I preferred not to raise my voice, and instead focus on Gabriel, who had just spotted a puppet stand further back in the crowd. This kid had excellent eyes. Nevertheless, the opinion of the whole family was rather on the leather goods chalet in spite of him. He started to rant but I took the lead before he had a fit.

"What if I took Gabriel there?" I asked, pointing to the end of the aisle. "There are toy stands, he'd be more interested in that than in bags. And besides, today is his day, right?" I finished by giving him a little wink to which he offered a toothless smile.

My brother's wife, Sarah, hesitated, but Claudel took the lead and, placing blind trust in me, agreed to entrust me with their child. It was not the first time, and certainly not the last time, that I kept him. Gabriel, delighted by this compromise and obviously adoring his incredible auntie, grabbed my hand and dragged me with him through the crowd, even before I could arrange a meeting place with the rest of my family if we got lost.

"Take easy Gabi." I intimated.

He listened and slowed down. We soon reached the park's outskirts, where his paradise began. A miniature train ran on an adorable little model, captivating adults and children alike as it was so full of detail. The man presenting, quickly invited Gabriel to sit in the front, to his great delight. I smiled at him, touched to see so much happiness and wonder in him. His childlike innocence had always warmed my heart.

Suddenly, I heard the screeching of tyres, an abnormal sound in this park and its surroundings which were reserved for walkers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a white van coming from one of Leicester's star-shaped streets, near the buildings. It stopped suddenly, not far from us. Its sliding door opened and two men got out. Despite the few stalls between us, I caught a glimpse of one of them, and my blood ran cold. Without thinking, I grabbed Gabriel by the arm and pulled him closer to me as the first panicked cries started to sound. And as quickly as possible, I threw the child to the ground, crushed him with my weight to protect from the violent deflagration and its shards, which followed the Persian scream of one of the men.

Time no longer existed.

Shaken by the shock of the blast, my ears rang, and my disoriented senses struggled to clear. Muffled screams rose up around me, and suddenly they were extinguished by the agonising noise of a machine gun. 

Shit.

I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned. My brain was spinning at a hundred miles an hour. It didn’t want to accept the mess it was in, while I didn't dare move, trying to protect my nephew with my body. A second explosion waited, further away, and the cry in Arabic this time, which I partially understood, anchored me in this terrorising reality: "You killed our brothers in Urzikstan, you will pay".

I had to find a better shelter if I didn't want to die from a bullet. Beyond the fear and panic, it was the survival instinct that seized me. I looked up, and had to face the general panic that had taken over the place. People like me had gone down, others had fallen, perhaps dead. People were trampling each other, jostling for survival, trying to find a way out of this hell. The first movements of the crowd could be fatal if we didn’t get up now. 

Seeing no armed men, and hoping that they had no means of posting any snipers in the surrounding buildings, I stood up, letting Gabriel get out of my grip. I quickly examined him, and fortunately no physical damage had been done to him. Completely frozen by fear, I had to drag him with me through the chalets and the park trees, ordering him to stay crouched, with his head as low as possible. We had to find the rest of our family.

We continued on our way to the part of the park where we last left them, and, thank God, on the opposite side from the two attacks. Nevertheless, more assault rifle fire ripped through the square, it was far away but too close for me. More screams followed, then everything seemed to stop. Only the familiar moans and groans of the wounded pierced the heavy silence. The loudspeakers themselves had fallen silent, and I believed for a moment that the remaining gunmen would stop. But another round of gunfire, which surprised me, made me realise the contrary. 

Gabriel's sobs made me stop. I turned to him, and his terrified, tear-wet face tore at my heart. His breathing was heavy, jerky, his fragile little body trembling. Panic had obviously overwhelmed him.

"Hey, hey..." I whispered, as we stopped behind a stand, after making sure there were no enemies around. "It's okay, as long as you stay with me, everything will be fine." I was comforted.

"I want mummy." He gasped.

"We're going to find her, but for that, you have to be brave and follow me, okay?"

"I don't want the men hurt us..."

"They won't hurt us, as long as I'm here. Are you forgetting who I am or what?" I tried to joke despite my apprehension. "I can heal all the hurts in the world."

He nodded his brown head gently, and I took his hand. Even with the feeble resistance Gabriel put up against me, we managed to slip through to the leather goods stand without difficulty. The gunfire was still raining down on Leicester. They would arrive, charge, and a new slave would leave. These reload times were deafening lulls as the cries and complaints of victims rose up. I dared not show the feelings of great anguish and fear that gripped me when I perceived in the distance, one of the assaulters finishing off a poor woman begging for her life. Other innocent people lay on the ground, a heap of inert corpses, whose true significance I couldn’t realise.

Finally, as we passed a snack stand, my father's limpid but no less terrified voice called out to me. I turned to it, and a wave of salvation washed over me when I saw my family in one piece, crouched inside a stand whose manager had disappeared. Gabriel and I ran to them, and the child jumped into his parents' arms in tears. 

But the arrival of a second truck cut short our most réunion. It was black, without insignia, and at first I thought it was another attack. However, what seemed to me to be special forces got out. From their uniforms and equipment, I understood that they were on our side, but I also knew that a real battlefield was about to be set up. And with that came collateral damage. I turned to my parents. My determined gaze met that of my mother, who immediately realised my intentions.

"(y/n), no. No, not here, not with us. This is not your job." She started to dissuade me.

But I was stubborn, and no matter how much she pleaded, my duty came first.

"You will stay here." I ordered, leaving my purse and my long woolen coat with them so that I could move freely. "And if you see that the combat zone is getting closer, even if only a few metres, leave to take refuge in the buildings over there. And most importantly, always keep your head down. A headshot is unforgiving."

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked, hugging her child tightly as if her life depended on it.

"My job. There are too many wounded who need emergency treatment right now."

Despite their reluctance to let me go, I left them, trying to find the resolution required to accomplish my work. A hard phase of emotional acceptance loomed before me, I knew it, and accepting it was a strength. Accepting it meant projecting oneself, understanding how to save a maximum of lives. Faced with such a large number of victims, and without a medical aid object, it was impossible to practise medicine. I had to extract the victims and send them downstream to where the special forces and, later, the specialised rescue services were. Accepting it meant immediately putting myself in a position to take care of many victims, without any soul-searching. To find myself in a beneficent tunnel, which imposed a mission on me, which I fulfilled, without thinking about anything other than the useful gestures to accomplish it. All the while imagining the immediate aftermath.

Even my desire to move quickly, I had to do it right. I couldn’t act alone, on my own. The special forces that had just arrived, must first analyse the tense and unfavourable situation. Before they could even help the wounded, they had to contain the threat. Impossible to determine exactly how many terrorists there were, where they were, whether there were any among the victims, or whether others would arrive at the risk of an overattack. I had to get to the special forces doctor and give him all the help I could offer. So I wove in and out of the chalets, crossing the square to the allied line of special forces on the other side, but also to the site of the first suicide bombing. The exchange of fire was incessant, and I prayed that I would not be hit directly by a Kalashnikov magazine. It was a horror show as I tried to avoid the entangled dead bodies and the pleas for help from the terrified injured. It was a real agony. 

As I got closer to the gunfire, the second explosion and the carousel in the centre of the park, smoke from the concentration of powder and dust came into view, slightly obstructing my vision. Extremely graphic images flashed by as I moved forward, the scent of powder and blood, two extremely metallic smells, catching my gut despite their familiarity. 

While I was hiding between two chalets, I saw, on the other side of the main path, a child, among many others, the dozen or so, lying in the pool of his own blood. Probably a haemorrhage. I was ready to move on, continuing down the alley, joining one of the entrances to the park at the opposite end from the terrorists, going around it to join the back of the special forces. But I saw him move. An imperceptible gesture of the foot, letting me know that he was still alive, in need of urgent medical help. 

I was near the second explosion, the wooden walls of the stands and the floor were stained with blood and flesh. And the remaining terrorists were close. If I didn’t take care of him immediately, if he was still salvageable, he would succumb to his exsanguination. I knew I had to join the special forces at all costs, but my thoughts were focused on one thing : helping this suffering child.

As I prepared to run towards him, leaving my hiding place to cross an open area, an almost unconscionable risk, a civilian, a poor panicked man, suddenly ran past me into the alley under the terrorist's machine gun. The back of his head burst, and he collapsed on the cobblestones, soon bathed in red. I realised that I had no chance to cross without dying. I had to find a solution, a way to protect myself. I looked around, hoping to find some mobile protection. My gaze then fell on a small popcorn stand with a steel structure.

I turned back to grab it, and rolled it to the border between the alley and the edge of the chalets. It was barely passing, heavy and had trouble rolling, but it would do. It had to do it. I took a deep sigh, calming the palpitations of my heart beating a thousand miles an hour, and stepped into this veritable No Man's Land. Just like I expected, the cart was immediately targeted. Bullets ricocheted off it, or sank into the alloy, all with hellish noises, echoing in my head. 

Then, on the opposite side of this unbearable assault, on the side of my exposed flank, a man appeared from between the stands and the trees, and ran towards me, narrowly avoiding the hazardous shots. Believing at first in a terrorist, I was reassured to see that he was on my side. He was probably taking advantage of my improvised cover, trying to outflank our attackers.  He was imposing and slightly frightening, wearing a balaclava with the part under his eyes showing the maxillary bone of a human skull. Despite his tinted glasses, his shots were precise and allowed me to move the cart faster as long as it was not riddled with enemy bullets. We soon reached the child. The damage he had sustained was worrying. 

Debris from the blast lodged in his neck, touching his external jugular vein. The blood flow was weak, contained by the same piece of glass. Nevertheless, his breathing worried me. I unzipped his coat and felt his small body to analyse his diaphragm. Under his shirt I discovered another fragment of glass, much thicker but no more worrying. I lifted his sleeves to quickly inspect his cubital and antebrachial veins, then his median basilic vein. The veins in his left arm were beating harder.

He had venous distention probably caused by... intrathoracic pressure. His chest rose, but it was a paradoxical movement. His left lung was weakening. And I was grinding my teeth. If he had a compressive pneumothorax caused by a lesion preventing air from flowing back into the lung, he was life-threatening. I urgently needed to treat the underlying cause of the problem.  

A sharp knife, twelve centimetres or longer. A small two-metre tube, two bottles of alcohol of at least 80% or better, an antiseptic, gloves and tape. I had to move fast or he would suffocate without artificial respiration. The soldier who followed me stayed with us, trying to slaughter the terrorist who was aiming at us. I turned to him and saw his first aid kit hanging from his bulletproof vest. 

"Hey you!" I yelled at him sharply. "Give me your medical kit right now! I need it for this child."

I saw him turn to me, and impassive, he analysed our situation implacably, almost making me lose my patience. 

"Get it." He replied, turning his attention back to our assailants.

Without wasting any time, I snatched it from him. I found all the necessities in the bare minimum, except for a bottle which I needed at all costs. I looked around for the umpteenth time, and noticed the chalet, which protects us from the terrorists, was dedicated to pancakes and crêpes. I entered from the back under the complaint of the soldier not expecting me to leave my position and take any undue risks. But I managed to find a bottle of rum dedicated to traditional crêpes, without being spotted by the terrorist, busy on the soldier. 

I returned to the child, grabbed all my tools, and disinfected them with the antiseptic solution. I also cleaned his trunk, then put on a pair of gloves, which I didn’t forget to sterilise. I then set about cutting the nasal intubation tube in half, which I then pushed into the half-empty bottle of rum. I firmly taped both ends to the neck of the bottle, so that the air from the bottle could only exit through the shorter tube. The second, longer tube would go into the incision I had just made in the child's second intercostal. 

After a few seconds of apprehension, the child takes a deep breath, letting me know that everything had worked. I then turned my attention to treating and bandaging his more superfluous but no less important wounds. I immobilised the strange body of his blow and stopped the bleeding. Suddenly the soldier at my side, after a final volley of shots that bears fruit, declared: 

"All Bravo, carousel target neutralised, over."

A sizzling voice from his radio immediately replied with a copy. The man then leaned towards me, visibly intrigued. 

"Why the bottle?" He asked as he retrieved his first aid kit, which I handed back to him. 

"He has a pneumothorax. The air in the left lung will continue to leak out and accumulate until it is treated. The tube allows the air to get out but the liquid in the bottle stops the air from coming back in. This is the principle of a homemade one-way valve. Now you have to help me get this child to safety."

"Impossible, we've gotta neutralise terrorists first before assisting victims." He snapped at me, reloading his sophisticated assault rifle. 

"Then take me to your..."

Without warning, I was interrupted by a blast, further behind me. The soldier's radio switched on just afterwards. 

"Bravo 0-7, one enemy got blown up at the southeast exit, the rest ran into the Friday shop. Over." 

My blood ran cold at the name. The shop opposite my family's hideout. The same building I advised them to use as a refuge.  

"My family has probably taken refuge there." I immediately worried.

"Copy. Reports of potential hostages." Declared the man on his radio. "Move to the shop, 7-2 and I will join you."

In spite of the anguish that overwhelmed me at the mere thought of losing my family, I kept my composure and did not forget my duty. 

"Take me to your medical assistant." I urged the man before he headed for the shop. 

"Civilians don't belong here, leave immediately."

"I totally belong here." I retorted, bitter at his reluctance. "I'm a war surgeon. So now, you're going to direct me to your medic to assist him and organise the extraction of the most serious casualties, until emergency services arrive."

Imperturbable, he took a split second before making his final decision. He pointed out the location of their convoy, not far from our position, where my initial objective was. We were about to leave each other, our respective paths opposite each other, when I turned to him one last time : 

"Please try to save my family." I implored him.

"Do your job and I'll do mine." He assured me before leaving with these words.

Far from feeling reassured, I remained powerless against a hostage situation. All I could do was save lives. A strange feeling arises in you, in this kind of moment. You were at the worst time, in the worst place, but at the same time, you would not want to be anywhere else. This was the chance to be active in such a situation. And so it was much easier for you to live afterwards, because you had acted. 

Without any exchange of fire, I easily reached the rear of the special forces. I quickly spotted their doctor. A South African woman, tending to an unconscious victim with a serious gunshot injury. But paradoxically, the most seriously injured were the easiest to treat. They were mostly unconscious, so there was no need to communicate the contact and the decision that needed to be made. On the other hand, less serious victims who were just hidden away required more time. 

I introduced myself to her as a colleague and tried to help as best I could. Her orders were clear and unambiguous. While complaining about the time it took for the emergency services to arrive, I learned to my horror and dismay that the attack in Leicester was not an isolated one. Three others had just taken place in the four corners of London and who knows, perhaps elsewhere in the country or on the continent. Also, I understood from the exchanges of some of the soldiers that the current special forces were not working under the UK's umbrella. I didn’t know where they came from, or who they worked for, but it didn't matter, they were able to act quickly and effectively against the threat.

I continued to apply first aid, with autonomy, without the comfort of a hospital, turning Leicester into a real triage centre for victims. The experience of being confronted with the lack of service and tools meant that I could quickly overcome this. Twilight fell when the sirens of the London Emergency Medical Service, the fire brigade and the police were heard. Their arrival on the scene was a relief to all. I set about giving a concise but brief report of the current situation of the injured and their labels, ranging from green, yellow, red and unfortunately black. 

I was helping the stretcher bearers carry a man with a severed leg and unstoppable haemorrhage to the ambulance. Another emergency took over when they placed him in the ambulance, allowing me to linger on other casualties.

Nevertheless, my gaze focused on the Friday shop, floodlit by flashing lights, and my family emerging from it, safe and sound, accompanied by other hostages. I didn’t think twice and ran towards them, ignoring my atrocious inadequate appearance, considering the huge sprays of blood that stained my originally beige and white clothes with contrast.  My blue gloves were now crimson and probably my face had also suffered from those long minutes of tending to the wounded in that disastrous and heartbreaking show.

My mother noticed me first and the feeling of comfort overcame her distressed face. She embraced me, grieving, and then  my brother and father. Bless my heart, they were all alive and unharmed. The terrorists were finally neutralised, the assault by the special forces to free the hostages had been successful in my eyes. 

In his comforting embrace, I discerned the soldier who had helped me with the child, coming out of the shop. He spotted me, and I gave him a wave of gratitude as I continued to hug my little brother. He gave me a humble nod and left to talk to his team without further ado. I led my parents to the place where the wounded labelled green, the able-bodied, were placed and cared for after the seriously injured. I asked them to look straight ahead, in the direction of the ambulances, not to lower their eyes in direction of the massacre that the square had become.

On this afternoon in December 2018, Christmas Eve, London had just fallen into terrorist barbarism and absolute chaos, scarring so many lives forever.

───────────────────────────────────

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ↬ 𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟤 𝗐𝗁���𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄 ... 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗆. 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟥 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖨 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗋! . 𝖶𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 ...

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #soap #task force 141 #call of duty #cod mw22 #cod #simon ghost riley x oc #modern warfare #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #self-insert #cod x reader

[wonda-ch]

How about 35. unforeseen for Tishlia? 💕

Part two of the One Word Prompts . The collection of conversations from a cozy evening in chronological order.

Part 2 (35. - unforseen)

--

Accompanied by a concert of chirping crickets, the warm evening progressed with many stories to tell. Satisfied with the excellent meal and happy to be back at home, Tishlia leaned back against her husband and took a sip from of her wine. "There's one more thing from Drezen. Yesterday, when we went to check on the preparations for the festival, we had a surprising encounter. Sosiel is indeed there. He came especially for the annual celebration. I was quite taken aback, I had not expected him to show up at all anymore".

Attentively, Midnight turned directly to Tishlia, curious for more information. "You didn't think of that before? I didn't expect that anymore. So he got our invitation after all. What did he say?"

"He was happy to see us, we had dinner together. He told us what he did last year. It was a nice evening, but not very informative. Dae didn't give me much of a chance to guide the conversation. He was too busy teasing Sosiel with every second sentence for still taking care of his brother like a "mother hen".

"The crusade is three years over, you'd think Trevor would have learned to manage life on his own by now. But worse than Sosiel's obsessive willingness to help are your constant attempts to set them up. You already broke their hearts twice. Do you really want to be responsible for a thrid time? Maybe they're just not interested in being happy," Daeran interjected.

As if from the same mouth, Tishlia and Midnight replied. "Stay out of it." Daeran rolled his eyes and Jax laughed uproariously.

"Not everyone can hold on to their love as tightly as you, Dae. These two just need a push that separates them a tiny bit from their sense of duty."

"Midnight is right, they are far too happy together and neither of them even begins to look for happiness elsewhere. They bury themselves in their duties and suffer because they are convinced that they can't be together. Luca is coming the day after tomorrow, we must manage not to let him come to Drezen too early. It's better if they meet 'by chance' at the festival."

Amused, Daeran listened to his wife's plans. "Let me guess, my manipulative beauty, when it comes to keeping him busy, you want my help?"

Carefully turning around, Tishlia slid her hands down Daeran's back, nuzzling her chest close to his and giving him an affectionate smile that punctuated the excited sparkle of her bright eyes. Returning the smile, Daeran kissed his wife briefly and sighed defeatedly. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever make my own decisions, or if I am always the victim of your pretty smile."

"Are you sure you want to know the answer?" Tishlia chuckled.

#one word prompts #tishlia x daeran #milvirvilan x jharsygax #Luca and Sosiel could be really happy together #you'll get to know Luca better someday #thanks for the ask!

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 205

McCoy

Father was making a statement. McCoy still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. For him, for Scotty… His thoughts chased each other around as they walked silently through the woods.

It was already hot and still early. Georgiares was a warm planet and the capital and palace had been built in the lower latitudes. McCoy wasn’t bothered much by the heat, but he did wonder if it was alright for Scotty.

The cave was a known spot, but it might serve better for a while, it would be much cooler inside. He suggested it and then led Scotty to it. He opened the pack the kitchen had prepared and took some things out. McCoy had asked for breakfast and lunch meals for the day. He knew the head cook would pack him more than that. He smiled as he handed a packet across to Scotty. They hadn’t had a bite of breakfast.

“Thanks,” Scotty said quietly as he took it.

“We can stay here, or come back here if it gets too hot,” McCoy said hesitantly. “The grove is nice and nobody knows it, but it is pretty warm today.”

“I wanna see it,” Scotty said simply.

McCoy smiled. “I want to share it with you.”

His face warmed and he tried to hide it looking in the pack again. He passed across a bottle.

“Don’t worry about drinking it all, the brook is clean and we can refill from there if we need to.”

McCoy finally began to unwrap his own breakfast. Birds were chirping in the trees outside the cave and the babbling of the brook could be heard too.

They took their time eating and relaxing against the cool walls of the cave. McCoy let Scotty decide when they were ready to move on. He had packed their PADDs and the book in the front of the bag and glanced at them as he cleaned up the last breakfast things. Both devices were blinking with new messages. That could wait.

The sun breaking through the trees felt even warmer after being in the cave. McCoy turned his face up and enjoyed it for a moment. He reached over for Scotty’s hand and squeezed. He continued leading them on.

McCoy hadn’t been out in the woods since he’d returned home. Knowing Scotty was coming he had wanted to save it and share it with his boyfriend. Now he could wish their day had started off better. He had felt only a brief moment of anger at Leah for reading the article at breakfast. He knew the regret she’d be having.

The anger was still deep in the pit of his stomach, but it was hard to notice it when Scotty was at his side. He wished he could wrap Scotty up in his arms and protect him from everything. He knew that wasn’t possible though.

Finally a small break in the trees and they were there. The grove was half shaded at the moment, though McCoy knew how that would shift and change through the day.

“We’re here,” he said softly and turned to kiss Scotty. “Sun or shade?”

“Shade please.”

McCoy let go of Scotty, and walked into the shadiest part. He set the pack down again and pulled out a blanket that had been tucked at the back. He spread it out and sat down to watch Scotty wander around. His heart beat faster for a moment, filled with love watching the other boy.

McCoy turned to move the pack where he knew it would stay coolest and pulled out the PADDS and book. He set Scotty’s and the book aside and looked at his own PADD. He had a message from Leah. He knew it would be her apologizing, so he skipped it over for now.

The next message was from Christine and was full of concerns and worries. She had seen the article that morning and was ready to fight, McCoy just had to say the word. Christine's message made him smile. She was a very good friend to have.

Uhura and Sulu had sent supportive messages as well.

McCoy set the PADD aside when Scotty finally sat down next to him. McCoy put an arm around him and pulled him close.

“You have some good friends who are ready to murder for you,” McCoy said with a quiet smile. He explained the messages he had received. “You have some too.” He gestured at Scotty’s PADD.

“It’s nice here,” Scotty said quietly. “Better than I imagined.”

“I love it here,” McCoy agreed.

He released Scotty and laid down on his back with a hand under his head. Birds flew over and sunlight twinkled between the leaves and branches above them.

Part 206

Scotty

Leonard's grove was a very quiet and peaceful place. Scotty enjoyed the silence and the protection it provided.

Nobody could see them. Nobody could hear them. Since it was private ground there was no chance of them being disturbed by reporters or any other annoying people.

He was still feeling a little bit sick in his stomach.

Scotty had always tried to keep his past private and now? Now the whole galaxy knew. What else would they find out? Was there anything his family had hidden?

Scotty glanced at his PADD. A part of him wanted to look at the messages he'd received but the other was really scared.

Leonard had already told him about his friend's being protective so he assumed some of the messages to be from them.

He lay down next to his love and looked up at the sky. It was a perfect blue, birds flying by occasionally.

Scotty let out a deep breath as he rolled onto his side and placed his head on Leonard's chest. He listened to the calm regular heartbeat and knew that sooner or later his own heart's rhythm would adjust to it.

He closed his eyes and thought about everything.

This wasn't just about him or his family. It concerned Leonard and his relatives in the same way. The king even went so far as to publish a statement. Scotty had to thank him for it later.

And what about Leah? She had to feel guilty as hell. Scotty would have to tell her that it wasn't her fault.

"I'm sorry," the Scotsman muttered quietly and he felt Leonard's hand, which had started to run through his hair, stop.

"What?"

Scotty turned his head so he could look at Leonard's confused face.

"I shouldn't have run away at breakfast. That... was rude of me."

Once again the prince's hand started to move.

"No, it wasn't. You were upset. And you had all reason to be."

Wasn't it disrespectful though? To leave just like that? Well... he had asked them to excuse him.

From the corner of his eye, Scotty saw his PADD blinking again. A new message.

Why? Why couldn't they just enjoy this moment forever? Why couldn't he just forget about the morning?

Eventually Scotty's worry took overhand. He sat up, grabbing the PADD which was lying next to Leonard, and looked at the messages.

He felt Leonard sitting up too next to him. His boyfriend wrapped a comforting arm around him.

Scotty looked at the names.

A message from Jim. One from Keenser. Pavel. Nyota. Hikaru. Even Jaylah. And of course Christine.

He quickly scanned the ones from Keenser and the other friends who weren't on Georgiares II. They all sent their comfort and offered help.

"Jim and Spock want to spend the evening with us," he read out the blonds message quietly.

"Sounds nice. I mean... only if you want to."

The Scotsman nodded. Jim knew about his past better than most of his friends. The loss of their dads had brought them even closer together as they shared the same pain. So he knew that Jim would do his best to cheer him up.

"Yes. I'd like that very much."

Scotty quickly typed in his reply before he looked at the next message. It made his heart skip a beat.

It was a message from Robbie.

Scott closed his eyes and tried to inhale through his nose and exhale through the mouth so that he wouldn't hyperventilate.

He was scared. What was his brother writing?

Scotty exchanged a look with Leonard who was looking at the PADD with him now.

"Only if you're ready," his soft voice reminded him and Scotty nodded. His finger was shaking as he opened the message.

*Are you okay, Monty? Please call us!*

Only now did he see that more messages had been sent before.

One by one getting more worried.

"I have to call them."

He saw Leonard nod and he pressed the button to dial.

His heart was racing and it dropped when he finally saw his brother's face.

"Robbie..."

The boy looked at him with wide eyes.

"Thank goodness! We were worried sick!"

Robbie's eyes seemed to move over to Leonard who moved to get a better view at the screen.

"Hello Robbie... I'm so sorry."

Scotty's brother's shoulders slumped down and he nodded dumbly.

"I... it's not yer fault."

"Is that Monty?" From the background Scotty heard his mother's voice and he swallowed. What would she say?

When her face appeared behind Robbie, Scotty couldn't help the tears welling up again.

"Mum..."

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds

[brightblessed]

"You do not have to get me anything." Allan must certainly look pathetic enough to even consider caring for. As confounding and... strangely warming as it is to have Roi bring him a meal every so often, Allan still does not wish to be looked upon with pity. Allan knows how he looks: certainly more gaunt than ever, more tired from his trip to the First, and reluctant to venture out as much as he has done in the past beyond his residence in Ishgard. Still, Roi does not look much better. The trials have been hard on the man, and Allan does not wish to add to it, nor does he wish to see him try so hard to care for Allan, of all people, who does not deserve such thoughtfulness. Y'shtola had been enough, more than enough, and even now Allan is averse to telling her his condition. But Roi as well? Twelve. Perhaps Allan should find a more private abode after this.

"Truly. Do you not have other errands to run?" Allan huffs out. He crosses one leg over the other as he watches Roi set down a bag of... something. "You cannot have this much time to spend with me." Even though they have spend much more time together before, long ago. And with much more intimacy, but Allan tries not to think about that. Almost losing Y'shtola and Roi himself had been enough for him to not wish to add to such trauma. "I told you, I've not the stomach for that much food." Even though it is a fairly portioned meal, but what Roi does not know will not hurt him. "I assure you, I can take care of myself well enough." Although he's certain Y'shtola has told Roi about his awful habits; Allan would not put it past her.

( @swerte. )

 ⸻ ♞

He had been trying to keep busy. Since the others had returned home, Roi had spent much of his time worrying about them. Especially G'raha, who he still worried may somehow get lost. Losing people was not easy for him. And when the Exarch turned to crystal inside the tower, Roi had felt the familiar pain of loss. He still worried he would wake up and the reality he expected would come to pass. That all of his loved ones that had been on the first would be dead. Trapped on the first until their souls shriveled away. That G'raha would have died there in that tower, only a statue to show that he ever existed. And while it was easier to keep track of the members of the scions, one specific person seemed to be harder to reach.

Allan was thin. Thinner than usual. As damaged as his aether already seemed, according to Y'shtola, the entire trip must have been brutal for him. Roi couldn't help but mentally kick himself. It was his fault that Allan got wrapped up in all this. And he knew it could happen again the next time someone or something set their sights on the Warrior of Light.

He had been trying to prepare food that Allan could stomach. Of course, pretending he didn't make it himself. It felt even worse than usual making food for him. Considering their past... Roi could accept that he did have special and frustrating feelings for Allan. Though he knew it was never going anywhere. That was fine. Even if it hurt at times, simply not having the other in his life wasn't something he was willing to accept. It was selfish, but he wanted to make sure the other was safe. Even if... the biggest danger to him was Roi, himself. Being close to Roi brought nothing but misfortune to most.

"Oh shut up." There was no hostility in his tone whatsoever. "I'm not going to work so hard to get you back to your body only for you to neglect it."

The food he prepared would hopefully be easy for Allan to eat. Enjoy, even. Though he isn't sure how much Allan would enjoy food regardless.

"Eat it. Then I need to talk to you about something." He averted his gaze a little bit at the second bit. It was a talk he needed to have with him. However, he wasn't sure exactly how it would go over.

"I've been advised to not do anything dangerous now that we've all returned. Y'shtola wants to make certain my aether is healing." He still didn't feel normal. His skin was paler as well. Sometimes he felt... Ah, never mind it.

"So as it happens, I've found myself with an abundance of free time at the moment."

#this is so gay idk why #swerte #⌈ ♞ ⌉ allan // swerte. || ˟ –––– that's the beauty of a secret // you know you're supposed to keep it. #⌈ ♞ ⌉ ic. || ˟ –––– crawling in the dark #⌈ ♞ ⌉ answers. || ˟ –––– i told you i'd spill my guts; i left you to clean it up #⌈ ♞ ⌉ queue. || ˟ –––– i think we were cursed from the start. #⌈ ♞ ⌉ shadowbringers. || ˟ –––– become what you must

[flyingwargle]

happy holidays, everyone! may your end of the year be joyous and i wish you all the best! <3

the holiday season never appealed to albedo, as he found them troublesome, unnecessarily extravagant. while he traveled with rhinedottir, she would create a meal with local delicacies or indulge in sweets. when he first arrived in mondstadt, he would hide away in dragonspine until the new year comes, but in recent years, he started to attend the annual banquet, accept invitations to different house parties, ring in the new year with friends.

this year is also different, as it's the first holiday shared with his partner.

a fire warms the house in its hearth. a fir garland rests above it, along with several stockings. the dining table is already prepared with plain wooden ornaments and paints. a naked fir tree sits in the corner, covered only with a white cotton cloth at the bottom. outside, snowflakes continue to cascade upon the city.

klee jumps at the sound of knocks. "i'll get it!" a whoosh of cold air sweeps in, as a result. "uncle xiao! qiqi!"

"hello." the yaksha wears a heavy cloak over his attire. qiqi, too, has earmuffs and gloves. "is albedo home?"

"of course." he steps into view. "come in - i have hot chocolate prepared."

"yay! albedo's hot chocolate is the best!" klee pulls qiqi inside, while albedo takes her place to kiss xiao's cheek, cold to the touch.

"thank you for coming. shall we?" he offers him his hand.

xiao takes it in his own gloved hand to kiss. "lead the way."

with cups of hot chocolate, they begin the arduous task of decorating the tree - first with painting the wooden ornaments. there are multiple shapes from snowflakes, hearts, baubles, and others, free to be designed any which way. klee takes all the red paint for herself; qiqi takes blue and purple. that leaves the rest for the couple.

"what are you drawing?" xiao looks over at the delicate pen bringing a sketch to life within a bauble ornament.

"just doodles of us. you'll see." albedo gives a cryptic smile. xiao doesn't persist, simply returns to his own patterns.

the pile of unpainted ornaments dwindle. halfway through, they line them neatly on the coffee table to dry. qiqi's are painted with solid colors, with a few attempts at drawing; klee's have a combination of colors with minimal designs; and xiao's are all one color each. albedo, of course, designed something different, although most of his are baubles. "klee wanted to paint a round one," she pouts.

"i'll give you one afterwards. shall we have some lunch?"

after some cream stew, they continue their task. once all the ornaments are painted, albedo takes out the lights to wind around the tree, and xiao lifts qiqi up to position a golden star at the very top. finally, they hook the dried ornaments and step back to observe in full.

it's a mosiac of color. the other ornaments highlight the narrative that albedo paints, a story of how he and xiao met in the dead of night, confessed beneath the stars, kissed in front of the moon. he also has sketches of wangshu inn, starsnatch cliff, jueyun karst, starfell lake.

"it's so pretty!" klee gushes.

"qiqi...likes it," qiqi agrees.

albedo glances at xiao. his flabbergasted expression is all he needs. "i assume you share a similar sentiment?" he asks.

xiao nods. he turns to hug him, a surprising show of affection. the girls squeal when he kisses him, expression soft. "i can't imagine being anywhere else for the holidays."

"me neither." albedo kisses him back, ignoring the girls' reaction again. "happy holidays, my love."

#genshin impact #drabble #text #xiao #albedo #qiqi #klee #xiaobedo #albexiao #happy holidays #tales of the heart

[thunderousone]

Chapter 5

Summary: Eirene explores the manor and gets to know Lyire.

TW: profanity, (eventual... it's slow burn get over it) graphic depictions of sex, pain kink, childhood trauma, parental trauma, chronic pain

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated 🤍

masterlist | read it first on ao3

Eirene awoke again on the same chaise, this time rather quickly. She lifted her head off the pillow and slid up so she was sitting upright. Lyire was manipulating the breeze to help him clean up the dust and ash of the marble and what was left of the plush gray rug that the lightning had struck. Vír was nowhere to be found.  

"Lyire, I don't know what came over me. I'm-" He looked up and cut her off.  

"It's okay, Sparky," he threw her a teasing smile. He stood and the wind continued to do it's thing, cleaning up and carrying off the mess. All that remained was a crack in the floor and ceiling. A rift between the two pieces of marble like a rift between worlds. 

Eirene's head throbbed relentlessly. The ache radiated down her back, coursing through her arms in a wave of intense soreness, Nothing had ever hurt like his. It was a sensation unlike any she had ever known, a discomfort that seemed to suffuse every fiber of her being. 

With a significant amount of effort, she planted her feet firmly on the ground, gritting her teeth against the strain. The muscles in her arms shook as she summoned the strength to press them against her knees, using the sturdy contact to leverage herself upright. "Sparky?" She asked. 

"Well we didn't catch your name and well, it seemed fitting given the... We'll just have to work on that, shouldn't be a problem," he smiled.  

"Eirene. My name is Eirene Wynard," 

"Well it's nice to meet you, Eirene. Though I'm much prefer Sparky." He could tell she was looking around the room, the anticipatory fear in her eyes. "He's gone." He said, almost reading her mind. "I sent him out to give you time to calm down. We don't want to make things harder on you than they already are," he put a hand on her knee. His touch was warm and gentle.  

"What’s going to happen to me?" The questions that swirled within her mind were a storm in their own right. This question felt selfish on her tongue though, but it was the first to pour out of her.  

Lyire stood up and sat next to her, his blue eyes falling to the large crack on the floor before them. "Well, I don't really know to be honest. There hasn't been a new wielder in centuries. Eons, maybe. If you control or channel lightning, I don't know what that means for..." he paused, too timid to say Vír's name. "Him. Storms, thunder and lightning and the rainfall all fall under his domain. As does wind," he turned and gave a slight smile to her. "You can’t go back. Not until whatever this is, is out of your system or in your control. We're not sure if some of his power just channeled to you and needs expelled or if it's now under your control. Either way, it's not safe for you to be in the mortal world."

"I have to go back- I have a whole house of people depending on me. The storms-" she shuddered at the thought. How many days had she been gone now? Was Violet missing her? Did Paarth visit her room only to find her not there? Was Beck preparing an extra meal in the hopes that she'd return?  

"It's not safe, Sparky. If you'd done that in your own home it would have collapsed or caught fire or worse. Vír is out meeting with the other Guardians to try and figure out what to do. For now, I can help you get set up in a room here on the grounds and you can make yourself at home. When Vír returns, we'll all speak and figure out next steps. But you have to promise to keep your cool. I cannot deal with two hot heads under one roof. It's hard enough dealing with him and his moods, let alone... that." And he gestured to the cracked ceiling and floor with a chuckle.  

"Come on," he stood up from the chaise and held a hand out in front of her. "I'll show you around, introduce you to the others here and get you a bath..." He looked down at her. Self-consciously, she lifted her shirt to her nose. Her linen shirt was dry, a feeling she was very thankful for, however it smelled of the must and mildew that most of her belongings smelled like. Her nose curled up in response. Lyire's laughter carried around her like a breeze as she stood up and took his arm.  

They skipped the tour of the first floor, the open concept living area that she was already familiar with, and headed up the marble stairs. One hand on the banister and one hand looped with Lyire's she ascended, the muscles in her thighs tight like she'd ran a marathon. Each step took calculated effort and Eirene broke out into a sweat not even half way up. She felt a wind at her back, helping keep her up right.  

The upstairs was alive with movement. House staff wandered in and out of rooms, most likely preparing for their new house guest. Most of them kept their eyes trained on the ground but a few of them stole looks at the human who now joined them. There wasn't a lot of laughter or conversation, none at all in fact. Eirene paused at the top of the stairs and walked toward the small sitting area at the top of the stairs. She looked out over this lofted area and had a perfect view of the entire first floor. Someone was already downstairs attempting to fix the damage she had apparently caused by calling that lightning.  

Sensing Lyire's wind at her back again she walked forward, on her own this time, down the hall toward the sound of running water. He smiled, "Alright, so I'm going to leave you here. There are clothes in the bathroom and anything you need should be in there by now. If you need me just say so, the wind will carry it to me and I'll come find you." He smiled to her and gave a quick nod, a look of unexplained worry in his eyes. 

Eirene entered the bathroom where someone was turning the water off. A young woman, no older than Eirene looked at her with apologetic eyes and looked down in an instant. 

"Thank you," Eirene stopped her. "I'm Eirene," her hand out stretched in front of her. The young woman kept her eyes low but simply bowed.  

"Yvonne, ma'am" her voice responded just over a whisper, and she left quickly from the room.  

The bathroom on the second floor is just as cold and beautiful as the first floor. As she removed her socks and clothes the marble floor felt cool to the touch and helped ground her to this moment. A large, freestanding clawfoot bathtub lay in the center of the room, its surface polished to a pristine sheen. A massive mirror hung above a long, marble vanity, flanked by twin sinks. Eirene removed the rest of her clothes and looked at herself.  

It was the first time in a long time she allowed herself to linger on her reflection. Her hair hung low and heavy, her cheeks hollow and the dark rings under her eyes made her look years older than she was. Living in Lyranth wasn't easy, but she didn't think it had taken this toll on her. No wonder everyone was always telling her to rest. What she truly wasn’t expecting was the lightning bolts that stemmed from each of her palms. The wrap up around her forearms, around her biceps, across her chest where they meet at the center of her neck. They were dark gray, almost black. They didn't hurt, they weren't raised, but she could feel something there. A static electricity bubbling beneath the skin. She pulled her eyes away from the mirror and turned to the tub that lie in the center of the room.  

With a soft sigh, she carefully stepped foot into the tub, the water so warm she instinctively pulled her foot back out quickly, now entering slowly, giving herself time to adjust. She sunk down deep into the tub and let the water engulf her.  

Once finished washing she gave herself a moment to survey the rest of the room, a glass encased area with a door was to her left, no sign of a shower head or pipes but the marble tiles still had the rain-slicked stone look as though someone had showered there. Two large paned windows sat far across the room. It was dark out, the kind of darkness Eirene grew to know as nightfall, not a storm.  

After a while, she forced herself out of the bath and wrapped herself up in a large fluffy towel. She allowed herself to steal one last glance at the mirror and took a coil of brown hair around her finger and watched it spring up. Perhaps there was hope for her hair if she spent another day here without rain assaulting her.  

Eirene found a pile of clothes folded and waiting for her on a chair next to the vanity. She lifted them to her nose and breathed in the soft smell of roses and eucalyptus. No mildew smell, no musty wet smell. Warm, dry, clothes. She slid on the soft linen trousers and blouse and cracked open the door to the hallway.  

A few people going about their duties froze in place as they saw her peek out and she could swear she saw a few of them sigh with relief. "Lyire?" She spoke softly, looking down both ends of the hallway. He said all she had to do was ask and he'd find her.  

Eirene knew he was coming by the warm soft, breeze that kicked up her hair.  

"She lives!" He laughed out, teasingly. He put his unfamiliar hands on her shoulders and Eirene pulled back. "Wow, I truthfully cannot believe it. And you're okay? You aren't hurt?" 

"What are you even talking about? Of course I'm alright? Sore but alright." 

"We were worried you might zap yourself in the bath tub," Lyire dropped his hands from her shoulders.  

"Pity." Vír's voice was unmistakable. As he walked past them, each footstep was loud and hard on the floor, like a rumble. His hair was fully down now, concealing his face, but the way he moved and held himself... There was no hiding who he was now. He was the storms incarnate.  

"Ignore him," Lyire gave an apologetic smile. He nudged his head down the hall, "Your room will be this way, far away from him. Come on,". Lyire lead the way down the hall to the room where Eirene would be staying.  

The gray and white marble veined walls seemed to shine in the candle light in the room. At the center of the room stood a massive bed, its headboard a beautifully carved piece of marble that looked like draping silk fabric. The bed was dressed in plush gray textiles that echoed the softness of storm clouds, and Eirene couldn't help but think of Vír when she looked at them. On either side of the bed, small nightstands held delicate crystal lamps that cast a warm glow. 

Eirene walked in and looked around at Lyire.  

"I don't know what's going on... Is there any way to communicate to my family? Any way to know they're safe? I appreciate the warm bath and food but I would very much like to go home." Her voice trailed off to a whisper at the end. Lyire walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed and signaled for her to join him. Carefully she followed, sitting a fair distance away.  

"I understand," His gaze looked down to the rug on the marble floor. "Our hands are tied until we figure out what happened with you. If it would help you, tomorrow once we hear what the Guardians say, we can ask that you be allowed to check in on the mortal world," He looked up at met Eirene's hopeful yet tired eyes.  

"Can I speak to anyone?" Her voice almost cracking in the excitement. 

"Unfortunately, no. You can see an area, but not specific people. And there's no way to communicate other than being down there and talking to them which at this point is still too dangerous."  

"I would never hurt anyone there!" The hurt behind her eyes echoed in her voice.  

"We never mean to hurt them. But accidents happen. And accidents have consequences. The best thing you can do for them right now is keep a level head and get a lot of rest. You're going to need it. The Guardians are coming here tomorrow to deliver their verdict on you... No pressure," he winked and nudged her shoulder. The feeling so familiar to the one that she and Paarth exchanged just this morning. Gods was that only this morning?!  

"Get some rest, Sparky." He put his hand in her wet hair to tussle it around and when he did so the warm breeze swim through her entire hair. "Now, that’s some hair," He teased as he got up and saw himself out of the room.  

Eirene's hands went to her hair and felt her curls completely dried and fluffy. She pulled a strand down and watched it spring back up and a laugh broke through her lips, and sleep took her quickly. 

#hyunjin #stray kids fanfic #straykids #ao3 writer #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz stay #fanfic #sjmaas #acotar

[scarletooyoroi]

Tiiip-toe. Tiiiiip-toe. Tiiiiip... toe. Her secrecy? Unparalleled by any detective! Surely, Thoma won't sense her cozy comfort, not until it's upon him, tired-eyed from a long day of work. Tip-toe, tip-toooe...

Target sighted!

In a rush, a fleecy material is tossed over his shoulders! Along with...? Was that a Yoimiya?!

"You'llneverseemecoming! Bam!" smoooth depart, landing away from his stiff shoulders, thank you. "I've already got dinner cooked and ready! Tea? Brewed, pillow fluffed, aaand you've got the world's greatest cuddler to help you sleep the night away!"

Spoil Thoma time? Spoil Thoma time.

Today has been a particularly rowdy day in terms of security. Working with the Tenryou in the expeditions of ensuring the Sacred Sakura's protection, getting a more vivid look at how the abyssal foes that surround this land evolved as much as its people. It left him feeling a wellspring of satisfaction being able to fortify what keeps their lands safe. To take in people who were once enemies, who found themselves struggling in a lost cause between free will and duty, to finally unify as they all simply wished for their home to remain safe.

So if his muscles ached? If there was weariness due to eating modest (and primarily rations, today held no time for hearty), it was a price well paid. Returning back to a sunny face that warmed the heart already had him unconsciously smiling. "'Bout time everyone to start packing it in at this hour. Which means.. Should she be wrapped up by now too? Almost forgot if she was going too.." Little did he know, it's these idle thoughts that managed to conjure forth her very being.

It was abrupt, a shooting star that decides to momentarily flicker instead of making a proud crescent across the skies. Thoma's heart successfully jolts within his chest as the blur of scarlet and gold swept by his figure, leaving what looked like.. an apron?

There's hardly a moment to capture the instant as he normally would. Yoimiya was here prepared and all the way down to the finishing stance. (Something he swears he saw depicted in a particular manga. Which was it..?)

"You.. haha, Yoimiya?" That welcomed disbelief and the certainty of her appearance, it allows whatever remnants of tension that kept him standing to gradually ebb away. Relief. His steps were unconsciously making his way towards her, towards home while an unexpected list was made and checked within that same second. This explained why such a luxurious scent was hovering from within the humble dwelling, and as for the rest of the details? It made such a weary eagerness weave through his body as he doesn't miss a beat.

For a fleeting moment he just needs to let his forehead rest against her's. To soak in the ticklish softness of her bangs, to the vibrant energy that unconscious blankets him just from her presence alone. Thoma was a lot less shy in allowing their lips to briefly meet, melding in a sweet serenity as a tender strength now keeps him afloat. It was a particular action to let the depths of his gratitude truly be felt. Some part of his soul sighed at the thought of not having to worry about that tonight.

"That sounds divine," He mentions after briefly parting.

"And something I can certainly use too.. I've got some wild tales on what happened today. I.. Hmhm, I really would love nothing more than sharing them with you over a good meal. Shall we?" He notes, carefully drawing an arm along her waist as a means to just hold but also gain a bit of support himself.

Tonight would be theirs for the taking.

@ofburningsouls

#ofburningsouls #| Tucked Letters #can u sense how much he loves this sweetheart #just that presence is enough to entice the wind under his sails

[ivorykiss]

1. Commission (Etsy) Plagiarism Protection

Estella, (an OC of the customer) returns home from Hogwarts for the holidays and visits the Potter residence with her family and Uncle Sirius.

Winter brought along the cold winds and harsh nights. It brought the blanketed snow that sat atop the trees and the ice that hardened lakes. However, inside the Hogwarts Express, it brought joyful banter and warm chocolate frogs. Laughter echoed down the train cars and paper cranes flew and flapped past the hustle and bustle of the students returning home for the holidays. 

Estella in particular, was watching out the window. She smiled as she thought about the warm fuzzy feelings of being wrapped up in familiar blankets and the smooth hot chocolate she’d enjoy. She thought about the heat of the fireplace beating against her hands while she’d read some of her favorite books she had left behind. Estella’s fingers braided through her hair as she sat back in her seat. She was excited to finally be home again. Of course, the glamor of walking through the dark castle halls put a sense of pride in her veins, but above anything, she missed her family. 

Her cat stretched in her lap and looked at her. The girl lovingly leaned into the cat’s face with a smile. As she pet Robin’s head, she couldn’t help but jump a little as the train’s whistle blew. A paper crane fluttered past her head and landed next to her. She leaned over and stuck it into her bag before she stood. 

“Time to go home, right, Robin?”

A happy mewl in response. Estella stood up from her seat and Robin hopped from her lap, tail curled around Estella’s shin. 

Estella’s disembarkment was almost as hectic as how she had boarded. However, despite the shoving of her schoolmates holding large suitcases and cages with screeching owls, Estella could see the bright and colorful hair of her mother and the scruffy mustache of her father. She twisted her way through the crowd and into her father’s arms. 

His hug was tight. “Estella, my little sidan. You’ve grown over the fall, haven’t you?”

“She gets her height from you, that’s for sure. C’mere, Estella.” Her mother pulled Estella away from Remus with a geeky smile and lovingly petted her head. “The train ride went alright? No problems? I know you were sitting with a gobby one on your way home last year.”

Her parents rambled on and on with affectionate questions and laughs, while Estella could only smile. She set her bags on the cart and picked up Robin to sit atop them. “I’m getting hungry. We can catch up over lunch, right?” She asked.

“Of course, dear.” Her father took hold of the cart for her. “We have plenty of time to talk. Off we go, then.”

Estella was excited to be back and see her parents. She knew it was a lot to hope for Teddy’s presence during her break, but she had already been warned that the winter was full of Quidditch try-outs, and that she might want to send a howler if he doesn’t drop in at least by Christmas morning. But she was content, and she knew it, especially as she ran into the portal to take them back to the train station with a winsome smile that made her cheeks hurt.

[Section Break]

The couple days of rest felt like heaven to Estella. Home cooked meals, muggle television shows, uninterrupted time to read– she was the happiest she had been for certainly a while. 

She had multiple cards that sat on her table from friends and family alike. Estella’s hands traced over one card in particular: Sirius’s. It had been years since she’s seen him. Of course, he was a busy man who traveled the world, it wasn’t like she wanted to blame him for missing another Christmas. Her father’s voice rang from down the hall, and she slowly set the card back down. 

“Estella, are you packed? The Potters are expecting us any minute now!”

“Coming, Dad!”

Estella called back before standing up and going over her things. Two suitcases; more than anyone else would bring for a week trip, with cozy sweaters, lacy shawls, fuzzy slippers, laced up skater shoes… She wanted to be prepared. Estella heard Robin’s meow from the door. 

“Are you waiting on me too, Robin? Nobody here has much patience, now do they?” She cooed at her cat, who responded with a mordant blink. Estella scratched the top of her head before she rolled her suitcases out into the living room.

Her mother and father seemed to be a bit panicked for the Potters, who apparently expected them. Remus’s hair wasn’t even gelled and her mother’s hair was practically against her scalp, as if she wanted to keep it out of her way as much as physically possible. They were loading things into the car that they’d take. Her father sighed and paused to take a breath against the couch. “When is he getting here, Tonks? Estella may just need to ride with him.” 

Him? What the hell are they talking about?

“He’s just outside, anyway. I’ll just go get him.”

“It’s a long drive, dear. What if–”

“She adores him, Remus. It’ll be fine.”

By the time Estella had finally walked into the living room, her mother had walked out. She looked at her father with a suspicious glance. “Dad…?”

Remus chuckled, taking her suitcases from her. “I’m fine, honey.”

“Not that. Who are you guys talking about?”

It looked like there was a shred of offense on his face, but he sighed and just smiled again. “You’ll ride a different way with someone else. Your bags and cat will be safe in the car.” He turned away from her, setting her suitcases in the existing pile of bags.

Estella’s stomach twirled. She was anxious. It seemed too secretive, and she didn’t like it. Why not just tell me? It took a lot to not be offended in return. Her cat being planned to be separated from her as well did not make her feel any better. Estella huffed a dramatic teenage huff and walked out to follow her mother, but stopped in her tracks as she caught a glimpse of long dark bundles of messily kept hair and a laugh that rang through her ear canals. Sirius.

She ran and ran, and before she knew it, she crashed into his chest, wrapping his arms around him. “Your card said you wouldn’t be in the country, Sirius-!” Estella scolded with a geeky grin.

Her mother patted her head and went back inside to leave the two be.

Sirius laughed again. “Did I? I’m an old man, Estella, you must surely be more considerate of a man’s memory.” He bantered, his hug gentle as if he were handling a delicate flower. “Come, now. Your family is late as it is.” He pulled away to turn around, grabbing a broomstick that had been leaned against the thick brick of their garden wall. 

“Isn’t that considered magic…?” Estella spoke slowly, the immediate flashes of the repercussions to come if the ministry found out she was using magic.

“If I’m the one driving the bloody thing, it’s no problem, right?” Before Estella could argue, the broom lifted off of the ground. Sirius looked back at her with an expectant shrug. “Unless you’d rather stay home and sweep with it.”

Estella didn’t waste a moment. She quickly climbed on behind Sirius. He lifted into the air, and just like that, they were off. They soared up, and despite the experience Sirius had from flying, she felt her stomach curl and tumble into her throat. Estella closed her eyes and pressed her face into the back of Sirius’s coat.

[Section Break]

The Potter’s home was a cute and comfortable one. A little shabby in Estella’s eyes, but cute. She always found it funny that despite Harry being the Head of the Auror’s department, he lived so modestly. Lily would always scold her for thinking that way, saying that they were happy there and that it was probably because he didn’t want to let any power get to his head. Estella would joke that she’d be a very different “chosen one” compared to Harry, in which Lily would just roll her eyes and smile.

But there she was, standing in front of it. Glittering condensation rolled from the roof and dripped on top of Estella’s head. She was a little grateful it wasn’t snowing… Yet, at least. She knew it would, it always would during that time of year. 

Sirius stretched his arms. “Riding on a broom really makes the back stiff. Appreciate the flexibility while you’re young, Estella.”

Estella smiled at him and shrugged. She slowly went to the door, inspecting the wood pattern as it swirled and curled into the golden nameplate above the knocker. Her hand raised to reach the knocker. The door opened, and she jumped a bit in surprise.

There in front of her was dazzling green eyes and familiar round glasses; Harry. “Albus saw you two through the window.” He said excitedly. Estella was pulled into a hug. It was a bit brief, but she understood, because he practically glued to his godfather as soon as he let go. 

“Harry, my boy. You’ve grown out that beard well, haven’t you?”

The laughs among them made Estella smile. She stepped inside, and there stood the three children of the Potter family. Lily ran over to hold Estella’s hands. James pat the top of Estella’s head; he was barely taller than she was, but it was enough to be a bit mocking. Their warmth felt just as cozy as the fireplace that sat behind them. Albus stayed put and watched his siblings hug her. 

“No Teddy?”

The three of them turned to look back at Albus. Estella cleared her throat. “Ah… No. He’s busy with some quidditch tryouts this season.” She watched as Albus quietly nodded and sat back down next to the window. 

What was his issue? She brushed it off. 

“Come on, Estella! I have a new book I wanted to show you! I got it from Rose!” Lily dragged her away, and James closely followed. 

[Section Break]

The rest of the Lupin household had finally made it to the Potter’s residence, and it was finally time to eat. Ginny had prepared a four course meal, and for such a hungry bunch, everyone was quick to sit and eat. It was loud, and their bantering bounced off of the walls, through Estella’s ears, and beat into the pit of Estella’s chest. She had zoned out, staring at the fireplace in the other room. She was admiring the golden stitching on the stockings that decorated it, and smiled at the dancing embroidery. 

The table had only gone silent after a swoop of auburn wings fluttered above their heads. A card dropped onto the table… Into a bowl of gravy. Estella flinched. 

Harry grimaced a little, looking up at the clumsy owl. “Well that explains it. Ron’s owl.” He chuckled, taking the card out of the bowl of gravy, cleaning it with a napkin. “Ah, yeah. It’s from the Weasleys.” He cleared his throat and read the card aloud. 

“Happy Christmas to you all, and sorry that we couldn’t make it this year. Mum and Dad invited Charlie all the way from Romania, and we didn’t want to miss the opportunity to go see him. We’ve given the Potters their gifts already, but for the rest of you, they should hopefully be on their way before the end of the week. Love, Ronald and Hermione.”

Estella smiled. It’s been ages since she’s visited Ron and Hermione. She especially loved talking to Hermione. Her intellect and class was something that Estella always admired– if she could be like any witch in the world, it would be Hermione. “I miss them.”

“All of us do. Maybe they’ll show up for the new year, darling.” Remus gave her a comforting glance and a nod of the head. “They usually do anyway.”

Albus was silent. Estella’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at him. He was picking at his food, avoiding eye contact. For the entire rest of the dinner, he was silent. When he was done eating, he left the table, not even stopping to take his plate into the kitchen. Estella was going to figure out what was going on. She stood up and picked up her plate, following Albus without a word. 

The kid moved fast, though. Right when she got to his room, the door shut in her face. 

“Albus? Albus, hey, can I talk to you?”

“Why? Go eat.” He peeked out.

“I can tell something is bothering you. Can I come in?”

He hesitated, but opened the door for her. 

She walked in and shut it behind her, careful not to get too comfortable in his safe space. “You seemed so cheerful on the train back. What happened? I mean… If you want to talk about it.” Estella wasn’t always sure how to navigate these kinds of situations, and maybe she wasn’t the best at it. She had been scolded before for being too personal, too selfish to want to fix everyone’s problems. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was Albus. 

“I’m really confused. About everything. I’m tired. I miss Scorpius. Stella, I’m scared that I miss him.” The words poured out of his mouth like an avalanche. “He hasn’t talked to me in a while. We promised to send owls, and he hasn’t sent a single one. Am I weird?”

Estella blinked. “Why would missing someone be weird?” The words were a bit simple, and maybe a little rash. “Seriously, Albus. It’s not weird to expect owls after a promise.”

“I thought maybe the owl at dinner might have been his, but it wasn’t.”

“I can see why that sucks, but to storm off? You’re not a child, Albus…. Sorry. Okay, what about it specifically is bothering you?”

Albus was sitting on his bed, and he finally looked up at her with a sigh. “I really like him, Estella. I want to talk to him all of the time.” He whispered, looking back down into his lap and into his hands. 

Estella’s heart thumped against her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was anxious about being told this information, or if it was the relief of finally feeling like she wasn’t alone. She slowly walked up to Albus, kneeling down in front of his bed. “I know what you mean, Albus.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. Of course, she wanted to avoid making this all about herself, but she truly didn’t want him to feel like he was by himself in feeling this way. “If this makes you feel better, it’s relatable. You know, I had a best friend I felt that way about. We stopped talking after a while… It made me sad, because I really liked my best friend. A lot. I wanted to be more than that.”

“What happened?”

“She got a boyfriend.”

Albus didn’t say anything at first and just stared at his lap. He sighed, and she couldn’t tell if it was relief that washed down his shoulders or if she was about to be scolded for being self-centered somehow. Estella wanted to flinch when he finally looked up at her, but there were tears in his eyes. 

“Really?” His voice was meek and vulnerable, like at any moment he could run away and hide. But he didn’t hide, he was there, trembling in front of her.

“Really.”

He hugged her. He finally hugged her, and she felt the tears sting her eyes as well. 

“Hey, stop doing that. You’ll make me cry, Albus.” She sniffled, shutting her eyes. He pat her back and nodded, pulling away and mumbling apologies. 

Gentle scratching scraped against the wood of his door. They looked back, and Estella sighed, standing up from the floor. “Hey, we should head back. My mom bought some butterbeer candies. Want me to sneak you some?”

“...Please?”

“Let’s go.” She smiled at him and helped him stand up. They walked out, and her heart felt tight and warm. She didn’t realize that she needed to tell someone almost as much as he did. She was honored to be that person, and she knew that they’ve grown closer than they ever have before. They came back to smiles and presents that sat on the sofa. They came back to laughter and warm apple cider. Estella knew that the rest of the holiday would be just lovely. 

“Happy Christmas, Albus.”

“Happy Christmas, Stella.”

#writing commission