#regarding monitored home

[diapereddoe]

I couldn’t find a sitter, sweetheart. I’d feel safer knowing you can’t get into any trouble when I’m out tonight. I’ll unlock you first thing when I get home. What time will I be back? I don’t know, honey but I know that diaper should hold up all night and I’ll check your baby monitor regularly. Now be a good girl and quit whining. Daddy has to go now. You said your best friends party starts at 8 right? I can’t keep your friends waiting sweetheart. I’ll send your regards 😘

[pin-k-ink]

saccharine // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ friends to lovers, making out, so much spit, hair pulling, food kink(?), hands free orgasm, just pure filth

wc ⇢ 3.4k

Kenma was utterly immersed in the virtual world displayed across his gaming monitor, fingers flying in dexterous motions as he maneuvered through each intense level. The vibrant colors and frenetic action held his focus in an unwavering trance, shutting out all external stimuli and distraction with ease. He was in his own insular bubble, mind narrowed to the singular objective unfolding pixel-by-pixel before him.

So thoroughly zoned in was Kenma that the faint creak of his bedroom door swinging open on its hinges barely even registered through his fixated haze at first. It wasn't until the soft thud of footsteps sounded, infiltrating the periphery of his gaming cocoon, that his brow furrowed ever so slightly in a subtle break of concentration.

Kenma felt his shoulders tighten a fraction as the additional presence within his space slowly penetrated through to his consciousness. With obvious reluctance, he tore his keen gaze away from the rapidly flickering screen to locate the source of this intrusion into his hard-won solitude.

Standing just inside the doorway was none other than you - looking perfectly at home despite having let yourself into his private sanctuary so casually. There was already a lazy, contented smile curling the corners of your mouth upwards as you regarded Kenma with that soft, unassuming warmth he secretly found so disarming. You looked slightly rumpled, as if you'd just arrived back from a long day out, but your entire energy exuded the kind of earthy comfort that always seemed to counterbalance Kenma's own more aloof aura so well.

As his slowly refocusing eyes drifted down, Kenma couldn't help but zero in on the crinkled plastic convenience store bag gripped loosely in one of your hands. He felt his lips pursing in a subtle moue, knowing without needing to ask that the mysterious parcel was no doubt stuffed full of all manner of highly processed, tooth-achingly sweet snacks and candies - the kind designed to incite nostalgic cravings in anyone who'd ever grown up as a sugar-fueled ball of youthful energy.

"Hey," you called out, voice light and laced with that melodic lilt of amusement that Kenma secretly catalogued as one of his favorite inflections from you. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too intense over here."

As if in direct answer to your playful query, the muted barrage of synthesized explosions and combat effects issued forth from Kenma's computer speakers - temporarily overridden in volume by your arrival. Kenma felt one eyebrow quirking upwards as you simply laughed, completely unoffended as you strode further into his room with all the casual confidence of someone fully assured in their welcome.

Which, to be fair, you always had been. Even when Kenma was at his most brooding or socially awkward, you'd never seemed fazed by his prickly exterior. Your relationship was quite simply one of easy equanimity, a perfectly counterbalanced orbit of push and pull that you both navigated through unconscious instinct at this point. No pretense or strain ever overcomplicated the simple fact that you both enjoyed inhabiting the quiet spaces of each other's lives, no matter how dissimilar your individual idiosyncrasies might appear to outside perspectives.

"Not really," Kenma replied after a protracted beat, finally deigning to bless you with a response as you unceremoniously flopped down on the end of his bed with a playful bounce. He tried to feign nonchalance, to not allow the subtle crinkling of bedsprings and sheets rustling beneath your added weight to lodge itself under his skin quite so insistently. But he could admit to himself, if to no one else, that you inhabiting his personal domain so casually would always elicit a visceral flare of...awareness from his carefully cultivated aloofness.

He hoped the small, inscrutable furrow of his brow was enough to silently convey the token protest his persona demanded - the subtle you're-invading-my-territory bristle that most people wisely heeded when dealing with Kozume Kenma's highly attuned sense of solitary sovereignty. Not you though. Even after the numerous years of rad-proximity cohabitation that began between you two, you still seemed to gleefully take measured delight in cheerfully ignoring every last one of his prickly deterrent mechanisms.

Rather than take umbrage at his mild look of affront, you simply beamed and began rummaging around inside the plastic sack with greatly exaggerated gusto - no doubt for your own private amusement at tweaking Kenma's carefully maintained airs once again. The crunch and rustle of packaging being rifled through filled the small bedroom as you built up an aggravatingly teasing sense of dramatic flair, finally extracting your prize from the bottom of the bag with a wee little noise of triumph.

"Cherry?" You announced, brandishing the large spherical lollipop like a trophy freshly liberated from its crinkly plastic tomb. That impish glint danced through your gaze as you rolled the candy enticingly between your fingertips with a sly smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I got a whole fresh bag full of those novelty flavors you used to go crazy for back in elementary school."

Kenma felt his brows twitching slightly as he absorbed the sight of the garishly dyed confection being spun and twirled in a saucy little display of enticement clearly meant solely for his benefit. The bright crimson whorls decorating the bulbous sugar orb put his mind immediately in the nostalgic mindset you'd explicitly stated - dragging forth powerful sensory memories of sticky fingers and tongues frantically chasing fleeting sugar highs around the smallest provocations.

"I remember how much you used to get a real kick out of novelty flavors like these after especially Kuroo dragged you out to play," you carried on in a lower, more conspiratorial tone as Kenma found his gaze firmly arrested by your mouth. You'd already begun dragging the pointed tip of the lollipop between your parted lips with tantalizing leisure, punctuating the suggestive motion with a slow wink. "Always the tasty little reward to help recharge those spent batteries, wasn't it?"

Before Kenma could formulate any semblance of a verbal response, you had already sealed your lips around the bulbous candy with a contented hum. His eyes went wide, transfixed, as he watched your cheeks hollow on the first experimental suckle.

There was something about the way your lips moulded so perfectly around the firm, protruding shape - the soft sounds of suction and the glimpses of your pink tongue slowly swirling to chase the initial burst of sticky sweetness. It was such a small, innocuous action, and yet Kenma found himself utterly entranced against his will.

You seemed blissfully unaware of the effect you were having, far too caught up in your own nostalgic indulgence. Your eyes had drifted shut in apparent bliss as you allowed the full-bodied flavor to roll across your palate with a pleased rumble. Kenma swallowed hard, feeling the heated prickle of a flush threatening to crawl up the back of his neck as you hummed out another long exhale of unabashed enjoyment.

The synthetic cherry scent suddenly seemed amplified ten-fold, heavy and cloying in a way that had Kenma's senses surging into hyperawareness of your every breath, subtle shift, and indulgent kitten lick. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the slow-motion mesmerism of watching that plump lower lip drag free from the candy's glistening surface with excruciating leisure.

A bead of melted syrup immediately welled up in the wake of your mouth's retreat, hanging heavy and taunting for the barest beat before gravity fully exerted its pull. Kenma's throat clicked on a strangled inhale as the ruby-red droplet began tracing a sticky path down the very center of your chin with tantalizing languidness. He could all but taste the cloying sugar exploding across his senses as the errant rivulet continued its maddening descent...only to finally shudder to a halt mere centimeters from the hollow of your throat.

You didn't seem to notice the escaped treat's sluggish journey, far too wrapped up in dragging the rapidly diminishing lollipop free to lave a series of thorough, indulgent kitten licks along the fresh sugar-trail your previous enthusiasm had laid across your very lips. Kenma felt his fingers flexing against the game controller, nails digging into the worn rubber in a white-knuckle grip as he was utterly transfixed.

The thick, humid weight of unspoken tension was mounting by the second, made heavier with every demonstrative sweep of your tongue and quiet simper of gratification that vibrated through the hushed bedroom. Just as Kenma was certain his restraint was about to fray completely, shattering into tinder to be consumed by this blazing conflagration of suggestive temptation, your eyes fluttered back into focus.

Your gazes instantly locked together with the electric shunt of a livewire arc-ing closed circuit. For an interminable breath, you both remained suspended in that heated stare - the only sound Kenma's own rapidly pounding heart hammering against his ribs with deafening intensity. Then, with obvious relish, your tongue swept out to lap up the errant trail of cherry syrup that had very nearly defied gravity's hold entirely before retreating.

Kenma's stomach muscles clenched as if taking a physical blow, his throat clicking on another difficult swallow against the sudden, harrowing jolt of explosive arousal that shocked through his system at the razor's edge of suggestiveness you had just displayed. You didn't show even the barest hint of hesitation or embarrassment, however, simply allowing your lips to curve upwards in an insolent smirk as you beheld the thunderstruck look on Kenma's face.

"Want a taste?" The words were innocuous enough, if perhaps delivered a shade too heavy with bedroom timbre and subtext. But the accompanying gesture of holding the thoroughly debauched candy out towards Kenma in clear offering? That was borderline obscene.

Unable to summon the power of speech for several suspended heartbeats, Kenma could only stare at the lurid streaks of color and glistening artificial sheen adorning the thoroughly savaged lollipop like neon warpaint. The sticky shine of sugar and saliva combined into an almost pornographic glaze that his overheated subconscious immediately supplied a barrage of wildly inappropriate mental images to contextualize.

It felt like a cosmic paradigm shift had occurred with shocking abruptness, as if someone had reached out and simply altered the gravity governing your established dynamic without advance notice or permission. What should have been a harmless instance of sugary indulgence between casual friends had taken on an electrifyingly charged tenor rife with fraught implications Kenma's fevered lizard brain was straining to process without imploding.

You seemed to notice the glazed look overtaking his features because you shifted forward on the mattress with what could only be described as a lazy roll of your hips. Your gaze briefly flicked down, confirming you had indeed provoked the expected bodily response in Kenma to match his overheated look. When you glanced back up through your lashes, pupils already dilated to liquid rings of pure invitation, a full-body shudder rocked through Kenma so violently it momentarily shorted his lungs of air.

There was no going back from this moment poised on the precipice of your established equilibrium. The gauntlet had been thrown in a bold, unambiguous challenge...and Kenma realized with a sort of stunned exhilaration that his subconscious had already accepted without input from his higher reasoning.

"Last chance," you purred out, deliberately dragging the candy's slick, hardened curve between your lips in an achingly sensuous tease.

Kenma didn't hesitate any longer.

With a low, guttural growl that sounded foreign even to his own ears, he surged forward until only a mere hairsbreadth separated your flushed frames. You sucked in a sharp inhale at his sudden approach, eyes blown wide in a heady mixture of surprise and approval, but didn't retreat.

If anything, you unconsciously leaned in further - near desperately offering up the ravaged lollipop like a silent supplication that Kenma was all too eager to receive. Without preamble, he sealed his lips around the exposed portion of sticky sugar...

You both seemed to hold your breath as Kenma's lips closed around the lollipop, savoring the tangy-sweet burst of artificial flavors coating his tongue. But there was an underlying muskiness as well - the undeniable taste of your own saliva mingling with the sugary treat in an intoxicating way that deepened the moment's intimacy.

Kenma's eyes slipped shut as he slowly drew the candy deeper into his mouth with a low rumble of appreciation. He could feel the heavy weight of your gaze scorching across his face as he indulged in long, leisurely pulls and sweeps of his tongue. The air between you had grown thick and charged, practically crackling with unspoken tension.

When he finally allowed the thoroughly worshipped lollipop to slip free with a damp pop, Kenma's eyes fluttered open to find you watching him with rapt fascination. Your chests were rising and falling in tandem, breaths falling into sync as that taut line of heated awareness stretched between you, thrumming like a tightly coiled wire.

"Your turn," Kenma rasped out, voice pitched and gravelly as he held the glistening treat out in mute offering. He could see your throat working on a convulsive swallow before you slowly, almost mesmerized, leaned forward to accept it between your newly reddened lips.

The sweet indulgence continued to pass between you in a steadily escalating cycle of wordless exchange - growing more fervent and molten with each intimate iteration. By the time the lollipop had fully dissolved into a rapidly melting stub, your joined breathing had grown harsh and punched-out against the heavy quiet surrounding you.

You held the lingering candy husk out towards Kenma with a look that could only be described as smoldering want. He found himself already leaning in, chasing those reddened, swollen lips until they crashed together in a heated collision of sugared, seeking mouths.

The lollipop was quickly forgotten, allowed to roll away into discarded oblivion as you both surrendered to the long-simmering hunger abruptly allowed to boil over into frantic need. There was nothing gentle or tentative in your joined onslaught - merely a wild, unbridled devouring as you clung to each other with something akin to desperation.

Kenma felt like he was short-circuiting from a constant barrage of new stimuli assailing his senses all at once. The velvet glide of your tongues tangling in an increasingly sloppy duel, the bittersweet tang of melted sugar commingled with the addictive essence of your unique tastes and scents, the featherlight caress of your fingertips branding tingling trails everywhere they exploratively roamed. It was quickly overwhelming his carefully cultivated restraint in tidal waves of new sensation.

Just when Kenma thought his tenuous grasp on control might disintegrate entirely, he vaguely registered the crinkle of plastic as you scrabbled blindly for something else. Your joined momentum barely faltered, mouths still hungrily devouring one another, as you managed to produce another candy - this time one of the gummy ring varieties.

You didn't hesitate before pressing the sticky, yielding treat against Kenma's lips in blatant invitation. His eyes slipped open in a momentary daze, but you simply held his heated stare as you slowly pushed the sugary disk deeper, deeper, until finally he was forced to open up and accept it fully inside.

A tremor rocked through Kenma as his tongue was instantly overwhelmed by the intense burst of sour green apple flavor. But the cloying artificial tang swiftly melted into something headier - the lingering taste of your saliva providing an irresistible musky counterpoint. He found his suckles growing more insistent, cheeks hollowing with each powerful pull as you watched him rapturously.

You seemed spurred on by his display, hands tangling almost painfully in his hair to sharply angle his head as you sealed your mouth over his in another bruising kiss. Climbing into his lap, you pressed even closer as the half-dissolved gummy quickly became the star attraction in a molten tug-of-war, messily traded back and forth as you strained to chase every melted smear and lingering taste from the other's questing tongue.

The wet, obscenely suckling sounds soon being disgorged into the dense air around you were utterly depraved...and yet neither of you could seemingly get enough. You rolled and writhed together with mounting desperation, limbs entangling as your bodies gyrated with a lustful, reckless abandon..

You hummed approvingly as you produced another treat from the bag - a plump gummy worm in a shockingly vibrant shade of lime green. Without preamble, you traced the squishy confection along the swollen seam of Kenma's lips, leaving a glistening trail of sugary syrup in its wake.

He immediately opened for you, taking the candy into the velvet heat of his mouth with a low rumble of pleasure. You watched, entranced, as his cheeks hollowed on the first experimental suck, feeling your belly clench at the obscene sound.

"Let me taste..." you rasped out, not waiting for permission before surging forward to lick away the sticky smears his thorough sampling was already leaving at the corners of his lips.

Kenma groaned at the hot glide of your tongue, catching it briefly to suckle hard - drawing you into a messy open-mouthed clash. The gummy candy quickly became the molten centerpiece of a heated tug-of-war, passed between your questing mouths in a filthy exhibition of slurping and swapping spit-slicked remnants.

By the time the neon treat had fully dissolved into so much sugary wreckage, your chins were streaked in lurid green and crimson from the excessive mess. You barely skipped a beat before grabbing another - this time one of the fruit-flavored taffies.

Kenma watched with heavy-lidded intensity as you slowly enveloped the tan-colored chew between your lips, torturously working the sticky mass along the insides of your cheeks before offering it to him with a muffled moan of wanton bliss. He immediately accepted the proffered treat, tongues dueling and tangling as you traded the rapidly dissolving candy back and forth in lascivious exchanges that had you both panting harshly through your noses.

Another candy soon joined the melting fray after the taffy had been comprehensively obliterated - a molten disk of pale yellow butterscotch this time. You took the initiative to cradle the liquidized confection against the swell of Kenma's lower lip, smearing the cloyingly sweet syrup across the reddened plump flesh. He instinctively gave a broad sweep of his tongue to chase the sugary trail, moaning brokenly at the artificial richness coating his palate.

This only seemed to spur you on further, and you were soon leaning in to lick and suckle away every last melting butterscotch droplet painting Kenma's swollen mouth. The sounds of your vigorous sampling and soft whimpers of delight were utterly shameless as you wallowed together in the sticky, heated devastation of so many defiled treats.

More gummies were soon added to the rapidly disintegrating pile - their colors blending into a garish kaleidoscope of streaked saliva and disgorged groans across your flushed bodies. You traded each dissolving confection back and forth in messy bursts of bruising suction that left your mouths swollen and tingling from the stimulation.

At some point, you tipped the bag entirely over the bedsheets, allowing the remaining sugar-dusted debris to spill out in a vibrant trail that seemed to beckon like an insistent siren. Neither of you hesitated before your joined frames collapsed squarely into the sticky devastation, utterly heedless of any shreds of restraint still tenuously remaining.

Candy dust and gobbed spittle were soon finding their way into every available crevice and exposed patch of slick, overheated skin as you thrashed together in delirious rapture. The thick, cloying sweetness and musk of arousal hung in the air like an intoxicating fog as you both surrendered to this singular, obsessive need to consume each sugary morsel from the other's plush mouths...among other intimate sampling still to come.

By the time the decimated bag had been exhausted of all its confectionary contents, you were both utterly spent - collapsed in a sweaty, debauched heap of limbs amidst the sticky devastation you'd so comprehensively wallowed within. Lurid warpaint streaked your flushed frames from the thorough coating of candy carnage, but matching dopey grins still curved your thoroughly ravaged mouths in unison.

Unbeknownst to you, the front of Kenma’s pants were soaked with more than just saliva and sugar, but the evidence would remain hidden until he got the chance to change his clothes.

"Guess we got a little carried away there, huh?" You teased, prodding Kenma in the side with an idle fingertip as he let out a grunt of agreement.

"We could always take a shower," he suggested after a beat, voice roughened with the kind of gravel that made your lower belly clench.

"And then what?" You prompted, rolling over so you could rest your chin atop Kenma's chest and peer up at him through your lashes.

He didn't even pause to consider, just gave a small shrug before responding in an even tone: "Then we could grab a whole bag of candies from the store and start all over again."

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x commentator!reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3

[sanarkeo]

don't stop, play your video game

mina finds it hard to focus when she’s getting eaten out.

alternatively: spying on your gf gives you some really great ideas! gamer!mina x f!reader smut - kinda fluffy kinda vanilla - established wholesome relationship - idk if it counts as voyeurism...

-

having a girlfriend who’s never had to want for anything, who’s always been more of a giver than a taker, has made special occasions slightly difficult. your anniversary’s coming around again and you’re stuck on what gift you can get her next. another lego set you both can spend a night putting together? artisan yarn to add to her growing knitting pile?

you know that whatever you do give her, she’d love it regardless. last year’s was a home cooked meal with her favorite dishes followed by a movie marathon on that new monitor you got her (and of course she insisted on stepping in and helping you with the chopping, and was the one who did all the tech set up). you still remember how content she looked, her head resting on your shoulder as you snuggled under the blankets. this year though, you want to get her something extra special, and you’re willing to use any means necessary to find out what exactly it is that myoui mina wants.

standing outside the door to her study, you feel the lightest pang of guilt hit your stomach for observing her like this. mina’s always treasured her alone time and you surmise she’s probably just playing that one video game she, chaeyoung and tzuyu have been hooked on recently. you press your ear to the wooden door and hear a muffled buzzing noise. it’s oddly familiar.

curiosity got the better of you and so you turn the handle and open the door ever so slightly, as quietly as possible. peering in, you see mina slumped in her chair in nothing but her baby blue tie-dye hoodie pressing a vibrator to her pussy. you’re honestly glad she has those noise canceling headphones on because she’s making the softest, sweetest grunts and hums as she massages it onto her clit. it’s taking everything in you to not rush in and please her.

when you tear your gaze away from her trembling form and take a look at her monitor, it takes a while to register what’s on her screen, but your jaw drops. mina’s watching porn. of someone getting sucked off while they’re playing zelda on the switch. it makes you giggle a little - obviously, the nerdiest girl you’ve ever known would get off to something like this.

looking back at mina, you can tell she’s getting close by how tightly she’s screwing her eyes shut. yet, with one quivering hand keeping the vibrator steady, she reaches out and clicks on another video (this time with someone getting fucked with a controller in hand). as distracting as it is hearing the monotonous drone replaced by wet squelches when she abandons the vibrator and starts rubbing her clit, you think you might know what could be a good little surprise.

“a-ah- fuck…y/n...”

-

you twiddle your toes on the lacquered hardwood and scrunch the hem of the hoodie you borrowed off of your girlfriend. the scent of her’s fading away, but still present on the plush cotton. you’ve seen mina naked a hundred times before (and you can’t help but stop and stare every single time). and yet, the image of her nipples, erect and rubbing against the inside of this same hoodie, of her touching herself, the cuffs of the sleeves gliding over smooth thighs - it makes you giddy.

“you can come in!” you hear her call out.

there’s this inexplicable psychic ability mina possesses that you haven’t yet gotten used to. but, the shock soothes the rising tension in your shoulders and you quickly let yourself in. it’s a quick clearing of your throat and a rubbing of your flushed cheeks before you allow yourself to meet your girlfriend’s gaze. she always regards you with a tender, sincere hue to her eyes, and it’s no different right now. she looks like she would give you the world, and in a way she has.

“i’m sorry angel, i’m in the middle of a game,” she apologizes with a pout, pulling a stool out from under her desk and patting the seat lightly. “but you can come and watch ‘til i’m done?”

if she hadn’t sneaked a look over to her screen and double clicked on something, you might’ve felt a tad bit sorry for what you’re going to do to her. you know mina as the kind of girlfriend who’s attentive to a fault; normally she’ll abandon everything to see that you’re well cared for. so it humbles and amuses you to watch her balance her attention between gawking at you and focusing on that convoluted game. tiptoeing her way, you quirk an eyebrow up as she examines what you’re wearing with darting eyes.

you throw out a rhetorical question: “playing league again?”

she’s played league everyday for over a week.

she sends you a nod and her signature gummy smile, then immediately snaps her head back to the monitor, her fingers fluttering over her keyboard as vivid circles form on the screen with a flurry of clicks. the sunshine rushes through her window to illuminate her silhouette. those bulky headphones look silly framed against her delicate features, but the way she clenches her jaw, the slope of it shifting up, makes you feel some type of way.

when her sight lands on you again, her mouth is set somewhat agape and she’s leering at your legs. “are you not cold, love?” after a couple more clacks of the keys, mina reaches out and strokes your bare skin with her knuckles. “you’re not wearing an awful lot,” she probes, and squeezes your thighs. she’s taking her time to skim the back of her hand over your knee, then to just under your hip. you shudder and the wool of her sweatshirt tickles you. you wonder for a second if she’s already clued into what you’re up to, or if maybe just this is enough to make her want to pin you down.

“you can warm me up then?”

she presses her tongue against her teeth while you pull her chair back. and for once, as you swing your leg to the other side and climb up on her lap, she looks at you for longer than a few beats. you slide your hands under her sweatshirt and wrap your arms around her waist, gripping onto the small of her back. at the expense of blocking her view for the slightest bit, you give her the lightest kiss on the lips, then sneak another on her nose, near her mole.

“love, it’s ranked…” she trails off, drawing a staggered breath. mina’s trying to ignore the heat that’s emanating from between your upper thighs, the wetness that spread since she layed her palm on you. she’s trying to pretend she doesn’t want to take your lip between her teeth and suck ‘til it swells, but she’s bad at acting and you love how visible restraint shows on her face.

“luckily, i don’t know what that means,” you joke and draw heart shapes into her skin like some lovesick fool. her eyes fall to somewhere between your thighs and her lap and the tip of her tongue peeks out of her mouth. your hearts become spirals thinking about how it’d feel on your heat. you clear your throat.

“focus on your game baby. don’t want you to lose, do i?”

you push her chin away and pause until you’re sure she’s got some of her attention back on her match. when you hear the clicking of her mouse and the striking of keys, you decide it’s a worthy distraction to begin bunching up the fabric of the hoodie and adjust yourself on her lap. mina stops muttering about minions in the game (when did she start, again?) as soon as she feels the warm, damp lace of your underwear pressed onto her thigh. you love how the curve of it arches perfectly to kiss your covered clit.

your girlfriend tries to gulp down her arousal: “honey…”

“yes?”

“i can’t… i can’t focus when you’re like this.”

mina has such telltale signs for when she’s turned on and you’ve memorized every single one of them. the way she starts breathing so hard with the erratic rising and falling of her chest, it nearly looks like she’s panting. the way she purses her lips, forming a little line. the way you can feel her contain and control her lust for you with how she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

they’re trembling in mid-air.

you can feel the thumping of her heartbeat on your chest when you give her cheek a peck. “yes you can, baby. concentrate on it,” you’re trying to be encouraging, yet you grind down onto her thigh, feeling the muscles in her leg tense up.

“do it for me, babe?”

she gulps, feeling you stain her sweatpants. mina peers over your shoulder to wince at how badly she’s doing. she gives it another try, clicking and launching an attack furiously but is washed by defeat when she sees you strip the hoodie off, revealing a set of matching lilac lingerie.

“my mina’s said she’s been liking this color a lot lately, right?”

“princess, please…” with closed eyes, mina lifts her head, withdrawing her hands and gingerly placing them on your hips. her palms feel slightly cold, but it just sends jolts up your ribs. “i can’t- i really, i don’t know.”

abruptly, you get off mina’s lap, and her eyes pop open in surprise. “i think you know, you know what i wanna do.” you crawl on all fours to get under her desk, and situate yourself on your knees, right in front of her. you have the perfect view of her thighs, now squeezed closed. your eyes trail the veins along her arms till they stop at the smallest hint of her tummy peeking through.

“didn’t you hear me?”

she cocks her head.

“d’you rather me do this while you’re playing zelda?”

she blinks slowly then looks down but away from you. a hand moves up to cover her mouth.

“how many times have you seen me?” she asks, and her words are muffled.

“what? you’ve watched that kinda porn more th-”

mina whimpers and her fingers slide down her chin, and she strokes at her neck. you wet your lips as you notice her fingertips trembling, hovering over her throat.

“don’t, please,” she mutters.

you push up her sweatshirt and take in the glossy sheen of sweat over her abs, rising and falling, tensing up every time the pads of your fingers graze over her skin. you spread your hand over her abdomen, toned and smooth, and glide it up her sternum to prod at her bare tits. her breath hitches when you cup her breast with the palm of your hand and brush your thumb over her hard nipple.

"my prettiest baby."

you spare the torture and hook your fingers into the band of her sweatpants and tug. she arches her back, allowing you to tear her sweats and underwear down to her ankles. she’s looking down so intently at you, her knitted brows shading a firey gaze, eyelids fluttering. the sight of her, so very eager for you to be buried in her pussy, choked whimpers amid the slight soundscape of the game coming through her headphones - it makes your mouth water. you lean closer to her and give her a smirk.

her scent is unmistakable and intoxicating. it strains at your chest. her legs are milky but defined, and you slide your impatient hands between them to push them apart. mina’s inner thighs glisten with her arousal, and dew pools at her entrance, needy, ready. you wonder if making love with mina will always make you feel like this - like you’d do absolutely anything to hear her make those little sounds of satisfaction. and you look up at her again as if you’d even need her assurance to go on.

mina looks like she’s writhing in pain.

“love…”

she reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek. it’s gentle and saccharine and her gaze is burning you with want. the idea of the game dissipates somewhere in the middle when you stick your tongue out and sink its breadth onto her aching, soaking pussy. the taste of it is sharp and it’s sickly sweet as your mouth is swathed by her delicate folds. you try to keep eye contact but she screws her eyes shut as soon as your tongue reaches her clit.

“hnn- ah… ah-fuck!” she cheeps.

when your tongue dips into her hole, you feel the pressure of her thighs dig into your temples. you lap up her warmth, tease at her sensitive bud with the faintest licks, and ghost your lips over hers. her moans are music but frustratingly subdued, and you swallow her juices. nails scrape against your scalp and you feel your girlfriend’s fingers catch locks of your hair. mina twitches, drops her hips and tugs your head up slightly, shoving your mouth against her clit.

“please, honey-” mina throws her head back. “please.”

you leave kisses on her thighs to test her a little, but give into the force of her grip that makes your core throb with eagerness.

“only because you asked nicely.”

you suck her nub into your mouth and flick at it, the edge of your bottom lip beginning to feel her hole clench around nothing. her moans settle into whines, each one growing longer, higher in pitch with every stroke of your tongue coming quicker than the one before. your chin is coated in her wetness and your fingers are itching to slip into her. mina near crushes you between her thighs now, your mouth so unbearably hot and good on her cunt, she can barely think.

“i’m so close- so close, ah!-”

her hand in your hair moves to join the other with urgency to paw and claw into the armrests. you paint spirals over her clit, and the anticipation flowers in you when her whines turn to desperate groans. mina sees white first before the mounting pleasure bursts into ecstasy. when she cums, she grabs your head again and suffocates you in her pussy.

“oh my god… oh my f-”

without letting another word slip past her lips, you stand up and yank the collar of her sweatshirt up to tug it off her. then, kneeling once more, your hands find her lower back again, and you pull her chest closer to roll her nipples between your teeth, to give them as much attention as you did her clit for at least one moment. mina stares at you, bewildered, drool beading at the tip of her tongue. pulling away from her breasts, you crawl to your right and swivel the chair to have her face you again.

“you lost, didn’t you?”

immediately, mina whips her head to examine the text on the screen and her lips form into a pout. “and i got reported,” she mewls with a sluggish nod.

“and you got reported,” you repeat at her and she huffs at you. patting the floor beside you, you tell her: “come down here, babe.”

“why?”

“c’mon, minari,” you coo, and the corners of your mouth droop down as you furrow your eyebrows to get her to fold.

and mina crumples, her gaze softening while she slides down her chair to move to the ground. she doesn’t expect it when the caress of your hand massaging her shoulder changes to a grip, and she’s shoved down with a yelp, back to the rug. she blinks in disbelief. but your girlfriend, attentive and hungry for you, soon devours your lips, chest, waist, hips with her eyes. you straddle her. you trace her clenched jaw, the sweep of her collarbone, the wave of her overworked ribs, the slope of her abs.

you wonder if fucking mina will ever stop being this fun.

“what else do you imagine when you’re watching that kinda stuff?”

-

it's finally up, no edits no proofreading just prayers!! 1000% done w this but mina today was sooooo 🤕 i just needed to do something about it. i think it says a lot about me that i take way longer to write about cute sweet loving than my usual pervy shit. had to cut it shorter than i wanted. well!!!

[satzumosupremacy]

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.9

Embrace

Male reader x Jihyo

Tags: Sprinkle of fluff, Smut, Impregnation kink, Drunk sex, Quickie 6.8K Words

As you were required for an award show, the thought of Jihyo attending never crossed your mind, and you were unaware of her presence. Even though you were aware of her being there, you maintained professionalism by staying in the background and behind the cameras while the award ceremony unfolded.

As a bodyguard, you typically stand alert with earpieces, awaiting radio communication regarding potential threats. In contrast, many other security guards either monitor numerous cameras on large screens within designated rooms or actively patrol the hallways.

You find yourself observing Jihyo as she sits, fully immersed in the ceremony, seemingly unaware of your presence. However, as you sneak glances at her, a subtle discrepancy catches your attention, causing a growing sense of annoyance. Her smiles, perfectly timed for the cameras, contrast with a nonchalant, annoyed expression when the attention is not on her. It isn't until hours later that she finally rises and makes her way towards you near the door.

“Come out. We should talk, Oppa.”

“Let’s go to the hallway near the bathroom. There’s no cameras.”

“No wonder you get paid so much. Just scanning everything like a muscle memory,” she said, chuckling on the way to the bathroom. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re not human.”

��That really hurt, Jihyo,” you said playfully, “I didn’t know you would show up here. I saw your schedule, but coming here? That’s surprising.”

“Just curious to see. Since we both are here, maybe I’ll come over tonight instead.”

“Are you really curious, or was this an idea that you want to fall through and sleep on my bed?” You said, teasing Jihyo and staring at her gorgeous back.

“Who knows. How do I look?” Jihyo turns around for you and poses.

"You look beautiful in that black dress," you complimented with a warm smile, appreciating the way the dress accentuated her grace and style. Her face lit up with a grateful blush, and the simple yet heartfelt compliment added a touch of warmth to the night. But the way you knew how she looked under that dress turned you on more.

“My eyes are up here, Oppa.” She said, laughing softly, catching you staring at her gorgeous body, and cover her mouth with her hands. “I plan to leave, how about you?”

“I have to stay til the end.”

She sighs, “I’ll wait for you at your house.”

“Ask your manager to stay to keep you company. I don’t want you feeling alone in a big house," you said out of worry.

“We both live alone. It’s only right that both of us know how it feels. I’ll be fine, Oppa.”

You didn’t budge but ask her again, “stay with your manager until I’m home.”

"No," Jihyo playfully responded with a confident smile. It was impossible to disagree with her again after such assurance.

“Okay fine. But we should get going. I hear footsteps. Might be a security guard making his way around.” You never fail to surprise her with the smallest things, like hearing footsteps or blind spots that cameras won’t be able to see. 

She could only sigh, yet witnessing this more masculine aspect of you was truly one of her favorites. "Alright, I'll catch up with you later."

You nod and follow her back from a distance. The little dirty thoughts of knowing what she looks like under that dress turned you on even more. As time passes, your only option is to remain standing, communicating with the security room, while you observe the ending of the show hours later.

——

As you enter the garage and step out of the car, she hears you and promptly opens the door to welcome you. However, Jihyo doesn't utter a word; instead, she walks directly towards you and gently pins you to the wall after closing the door for you. In an instant, her lips meet yours, and she kisses you as if she has been longing for the passion you both shared the last time.

No greetings. Just getting straight to the point.

Despite both of your schedules today, the two of you wanted some relief, or better, the whole night that you both deserve after a long day. Her hands hang on your shoulders. As it continued from a genuine kiss to a more passionate one, your hands slowly trace her figure down to her hips, squeezing Jihyo’s ass.

“So damn aggressive, Oppa,” Jihyo said, smiling at you once the two of you made eye contact. "You're very, very handsome tonight."

“Fuck, you know how hot you look in that black dress?” You said, mouth inches apart, and shares of each other's warm breath.

“It’s hotter seeing you in all black, Oppa.”

“Sorry it took so long, Jihyo.” She didn’t respond and continued to kiss all over you lips down to your neck while you traced her curves, grabbing her ass for a tight squeeze again. “All mine for the night?”

“Oppa,” she said, gasping quietly, “remember…what I said to you at the start of all this?”

“What is it?” You said and turned around to pin her to the wall. Your hands never let go of her body and kept touching her with lust. She stares right at you, locking each other's eyes silently for a split second.

“Eat me. I never gave you a chance at the start. I know you’re tired of having the same thing each week.”

“Sana?”

“I never said no names.” She laughs, catching you off guard to start name calling. “Have me. Me for tonight. Eat me and hold me tight. I’ll please you too.”

“You know I won’t disappoint you, Jihyo.” And within an instant, you lift up her dress slightly to see that Jihyo didn’t have any panties on. She got you flustered, and you can only question her, “what’s going on? Don’t act like Sana. This is so not you at all.”

“Got too impatient waiting for you. Couldn’t help but play with myself for a while.”

“I kept you waiting, didn't I?" You then nod side to side with a gentle smile, "you don't have to anymore.” And you slowly trace between her crotch right onto her clit to feel how wet she has gotten. Curiously, you tap her pussy gently, just feeling a string of her juice stretch onto your fingers. “It’s very wet. Tell me what you were thinking while I was gone, Jihyo. Tell me everything. Tell me what we should do on this lovely tonight.”

She remains locked to your eyes, moaning ever so quietly as you rub her clit slowly. “I just,” she whimpers quietly, “want to be held in your arms and feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”

Unexpectedly, you felt some pity, some gratitude at the same time when she wants you, and only you to make her feel this way. Ever since the first time you fucked her, you never got a taste of her at all, but only get to feel how tight she really was, and with a smirk, you lick your fingers immediately once you pulled out to get a taste of Jihyo as she quietly looks at you for a compliment.

“May you cum on my face later?” You said, licking your lips and finger her again while Jihyo could only pant quietly.

You gaze at her, right in her eyes, and hear her beautiful voice, continuously fingering her even faster, deeper with another finger inside. “Oppa,” she moans and squeezes your shoulders, “I just want you.”

The difference between Jihyo at the award show and right in your house was vastly different. In the public eye, she shows confidence, smiling for cameras. Yet, in the private moments away from the spotlight, she seeks comfort, desiring to be held in your arms without the presence of cameras. Slowly tracing her body, you quickly lift her up and carry her to the couch with your hands on her ass.

“After a long day, we both deserve this time. Am I right, Jihyo?” You toss her on the couch and took the advantage of being on top to kiss her neck. She tilts her head in the opposite direction from your kisses to give you every space possible.

“Want to stay up for the night?” She quietly moans more from the feeling of your lips all over her neck.

“It’s been a long day, but if you want, we can. Staying up is simple.”

“Busy tomorrow? I don’t recall you being busy.”

“So many questions.” You said with a chuckle and pin her down harder, silently staring right into her eyes. Even avoiding Jihyo’s question, you are busy in the afternoon later, but rather not disappoint her.

“Eyes so seductive,” she complimented.

“Because I’m the one that you’ll have tonight.”

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Eat me, Oppa. Give me what I was missing out on.”

Before you even walk to the bedroom, you see a smile from her, brighter than you can clearly remember from today. Even though she brought a suitcase and seemed to be packing for a vacation, you willingly offered to carry her luggage. Regardless, you didn't pay any mind whether she intended to stay for just a night or several days.

“Oppa, why aren’t you asking about my luggage that I brought over?” Jihyo questioned while taking off her dress.

“I’m fine if you stay over. Let my house be your sanctuary and escape from reality. Whatever’s bothering you, just know I’m here.” You said, concerned nonchalantly, and subtly expressing empathy. Considering Twice's hectic schedules, including yours, it's evident that the members are likely burnt out.

In fact, you could sense something was on her mind at the start of the event when the cameras weren’t focused on her. But when she’s in the spotlight, it was all smiles—fake enough to make you notice the small differences from Jihyo. From just being an observant person, it made you worry for her.

“Oppa,” she said as you stare at her naked body, “thanks,” Jihyo said and you can see her smile fade away. You rather try to make her feel happy instead of knowing what’s on her mind, simply because you couldn’t relate to being an idol after all. But even if she hesitated to say what was on her mind, you wanted her to tell you regardless.

“Jihyo, the door is closed, and it’s only us two together.” You said, sugarcoating and encouraging her to open up comfortably. Despite the close bond within Twice, it's understandable that her leadership role comes with a sense of pride. You're aware that she might feel uneasy about sharing her thoughts with the other members.

“Oppa,” she said, hands out, inviting for a hug in front of you and you wrap your arm around her without a word, “I like the hospitality you give me."

"Feel free to express yourself. When we hug, I can't see your face, so just share what's on your mind, Jihyo." You gently pat her back, with her tits pressed against your chest. If Jihyo needed a shoulder to cry on, you would bring her in your arms without wanting her embarrassed.

“Our schedule was tough, wasn’t it, Oppa?”

“It was…kinda, Jihyo. It was.”

"Are we being too much for you? In a personal way?"

"No, not at all," you said simply.

“I’m just tired. I’m just exhausted. It’s just been rough for all of us including you, Oppa. I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, either way, you held her in tightly and warmly, her chin on your shoulders as if she was crying behind your back. “Did anyone tell you that you’re doing good? I’m very proud of you, Jihyo. Very.”

Your words had the power to bring tears to her eyes, whether from the struggles or from the sheer motivation it provided. Jihyo's joy was evident in the warmth of her cheeks against yours. However, you didn't realize that these were tears of happiness, or even seeing Jihyo shed a tear. As she held you even tighter, standing still, she embraced the heartfelt words you had given her.

“Want to drink? Celebrate after our busy schedules, Oppa? Just us two. We get along so well together.” Jihyo said out of the blue, smiling and wiping her tears secretly and gets down on her knees to kiss your body and pull your pants down with a mischievous smile.

“Jihyo,” you caressed her cheek and she sucks on your thumb for a tease. “Anyone told you that you look so beautiful today?”

“No..well, apart from my stylist and managers. Thanks.” Jihyo then kisses your tip, licking the bottom side to make your cock twitch on her tongue. "You deserve something, Oppa. And it's me."

“Not even a tease. Just getting straight into it, Jihyo.” It’s not like she can say anything back when you held her nape and pushing her gently down to deepthroat your cock slowly, which you groaned, “Jihyo.”

You fall back onto the bed. Jihyo’s little hum, moan, and her eyes that stared up to you, eased the tough day both of you had. You push her down even more to make Jihyo gag louder. The wet slurps her mouth made echoed in the bedroom, it was pure music to your ears while you closed your eyes. She smiled from the corner of her mouth all because of how pleasured you were. Even Jihyo missed the way your cock tasted and swallowed all the pre-cum that leaked out. You gently let go of her nape to give Jihyo some rest as she pulls off to take a deep breath.

“Think I’m finally realizing why Sana is so obsessed. Fuck,” Jihyo laughs, wiping the small mess on her lips. You decide to seduce her by pressing your thumb against her lips and make her suck on your thumb again.

You brush her hair by the ear just to see her face even clearer, “I love how dirty you can get when the time is right. Can you take it deeper?”

She smirks, “you think I can’t?”

“You’re a singer after all. I’m worried.”

“Studio session isn’t in a couple days. Plus, it’s not like this is our first time together.”

She continues to suck you off, from the tip, you can feel her tongue rubbing against it. You moan, grunting quietly while holding her nape and grip onto her hair, “Jihyo,” you couldn’t help but groan her name. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your breath becomes even heavier, deeper once she started to deepthroat you without any guidance. You feel some saliva drip down to your balls, to which she quickly licks your balls with a light chuckle, and the breath you felt. “Just cum if you can’t handle it. We have the whole night. Don’t be embarrassed, Oppa.”

She squeezes your cock, thumb teasing your tip in circular motion to make it twitch. And again, she doesn’t hesitate to suck you off when your cock is all hers tonight. “Jihyo,” you grunted, “slow down.”

And like she even listened, Jihyo pushes herself down even farther to take every inch when you felt her throat contract and chokes—hard, and pulls out to jerk you off. “Were you worried?”

“No shit.”

“How considerate,” she smirks and admires your cock. “May I get an appetizer? Then all of it inside somewhere else later?”

“If you really can’t wait to get eaten out.” Without hesitation, she sucks only your tip, swirling her tongue around it and under to make you gasp. The whole time, Jihyo sucks and teases your tip for your load of cum. You lean your head into the bedsheet even harder the more she focuses on your tip, and it is only the tip. Her head bobs quickly all in one area that got you tensed up, even making you grunt. “Jihyo. Jihyo.”

Your cock pulsates every bob she does, and it was too much for you to handle when all the focus is the tip of your cock. You would confidently say to yourself that her blowjobs were different than any women. Her soft, warm hands were on your lap, slowly and teasingly caressing your thighs.

“Fuck, Ji-” you said, grunting, cumming right in her mouth as she slows down to feel your cock pulsating. Jihyo didn’t expect how much she got you to cum and your cock didn’t stop pulsating to fill her mouth. Jihyo stopped bobbing for your own sanity. Seconds after, you rub your forehead with the palm of your hands just to come back to reality by what this woman just did—an overwhelming quickie that made her cheeks bloat with cum.

Jihyo awaits for you to look at her, soon as you did, she swallows your cum with your cock still in her mouth and pulls out. “This is just a thank you, Oppa,” she said, wiping her lips, licking her fingers, and brushing her hair to the side femininely.

And you couldn’t snap back into reality at all when it was just an overwhelming quickie.

“You’re so lucky that I rather savor the taste of you tonight. Otherwise, I might make you yell at the top of your lungs tonight.”

“Hey, maybe it’s good vocal practice for me.”

“Shut it.”

“Not if I can shut you up first by sitting on your face, Oppa.”

“Enough talking,” you chuckled and she quickly got up to take the chance to shut you up by sitting on your face while you’re laid down already. "Seems like the tables always turn when you're the one seducing me, Jihyo."

“Enjoy as long as you want.” Jihyo smiled, which you couldn’t see when her tits were in your view. You wrap your arms around her thighs, to where she can feel your biceps locking her in. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all to be on top."

You had enough talking when her pussy was right in your face and started with a simple tease to her inner thighs, closer, and closer to kiss her pussy and lick how wet she was already. You can barely hear her moan with her thighs covering your ears, but it is enough to make her squeal and jerk around while you finally get a taste of Jihyo. She digs into your scalp, unintentionally getting a pinch-like feeling out of it with her nails.

“Oppa,” she moaned with her irregular breathing and the small squirms you felt. “Fuck!”

With a grin on your face, you wanted her to regret what she didn’t let you do—eat her at the start of all of this. As you kept eating her out, you didn’t let Jihyo catch her breath but kept going like you wanted her to moan even louder. 

And she did start realizing and regret what she didn’t let you do.

Her pussy becomes even more wet with your saliva, also your mouth being a mess. Even if she squirms, your tongue stayed glued and gave her a bundle of sensations. You got her feelings on a rollercoaster with your arms around as her only seatbelt.

Jihyo’s body tenses, arching back and face up to the ceiling, then a erotic moan from her within the breaths she takes every second. She was at her limit, legs twitching and jerking, squirming everywhere like her body wanted to be free from your arms. You suddenly pause from eating her, “You’re not cumming anytime soon.”

She quickly catches her breath. “Oppa,” she said, panting and trying to control her breathing, “you have to let me lay down. I can’t handle this.”

“Free yourself.” Even if you knew thigh muscles were more powerful than arms, you cheated your way through by licking her pussy just so she couldn’t escape as she tried to, which she surrendered herself as you slowly savor Jihyo’s pussy.

She can only admire the view down below where your face was no where to seen but only your hair. “You eat me so fucking good.”

“You taste good, Jihyo.” And you press your tongue against her pussy, slowly up and down to devour her. You did free her however, only to grab onto her tits and gently squeeze them. Her toes curl up, every part of her legs tenses, and Jihyo couldn’t take it anymore by the way you’re eating her in all the right spots.

“Oppa, you’re gonna-” Your tongue circles around her pussy; from the clit, slowly down near her ass, you savor every part of what you’re getting tonight and for the next few days. Jihyo’s moans get louder, screaming and covering her mouth like she’s going to cum if you keep swirling your tongue around. “Oppa,” she groaned erotically and an accidental quick scream.

“Let me enjoy you for a bit longer, Jihyo,” you smiled and slowed down from eating her out. From her thighs, you kiss them passionately and made Jihyo chuckle. “I love your body, Jihyo. I really do.”

“My body goes well with yours, Oppa. You’re muscular, while I have everything you need from a woman’s body.”

“I wouldn’t deny it either. Want to change positions?” Jihyo didn’t answer as you released her from your arms. Once she lay down, you got on top of her and kissed her tits, then traced down her body to her stomach, and lastly, again to her wet pussy that you made a mess of. Jihyo’s legs leaned against your shoulders as you slowly licked her pussy. “How much longer can you take it, Jihyo?” 

“Fuck, it’s so sensitive right now. Stop torturing me so much, Oppa,” she laughs, and then moans with her back arching once she felt your tongue digging into her pussy. Jihyo squeezes her tits, moaning even deeper and breaths break into a stream of long pants.

Without a doubt, you wanted Jihyo to cum, not in the hardest way, but calm enough to make Jihyo feel all the sensations. “Cum for me, Jihyo,” you murmured without letting your mouth off of her pussy.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly, legs jerking, body tensing as you only slowed down to hear her beautiful voice as Jihyo starts to cum. Her legs also pushed you back as you didn't budge but it wasn't enough for your tongue to let go of her clit. As she has her moment, you stare right at her, see Jihyo squeezing her tits when her head was buried deep into the pillow. “Ah!” She clenches her teeth quickly to be quiet at two in the morning and nods side to side once you sucked on her clit, then giving it a kiss as the cherry on top.

“Rest for a bit, then we can go back out.”

“Oppa,” Jihyo said, gasping for air while you waited for her to finish what she wanted to say. “Never mind.” Again, laughing in the most unexpected moments. What Jihyo wanted to say was that she loved how you eat her, but didn’t want to sound like an easy person to please.

You didn’t bother asking and laughed along with Jihyo. “Should we put on some clothes and go to the living room?”

“Mhmm,” she said, smiling with her eyes closed after getting eaten out. You take Jihyo’s hand and made her get up from the bed to dress comfortably. She puts on a shirt—without her bra, panties, and sweatpants that she got out her luggage.

You both leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen. You decide to cut some fruits to arrange on the table. Jihyo, being familiar with the layout of your house, goes to fetch a wine bottle, a couple of beers, and a half bottle of whiskey. As you're busy cutting strawberries and mangoes, you notice her walking back and forth with drinks. Feeling a bit puzzled by the amount she's taking, you chuckle and only look at her. "Jihyo, I don't want you to get too drunk."

“Don’t worry, these are just extras that we might take some sips with.”

You chuckle in a surprised tone, “Sips? I know how you are, Jihyo. Remember when you threw up on my bathroom floor and Nayeon had to clean it?”

“Oppa, stop overreacting. This is a small party for the two of us.”

“Fine. I’ll take care of you if you get drunk tonight then.”

“I won’t get drunk.” She said coming out of the small room that you store all the alcoholic drinks in. You watched as she came out with the final bottle—the whiskey. Jihyo lifted the bottle triumphantly, a smile that she couldn't hide but got to drink with you. "Oppa, this was the bottle that Tzuyu was so adorable after taking a few shots."

“I remembered.” You said, continuing to cut the fruits as Jihyo leans over the counter to patiently look at you cut the fruits. “Mind handing me a plate, Jihyo?”

She hands you a plate and rest her elbow on the counter to look at you. “You look so hot using a kitchen knife.”

You pause, setting aside the task of cutting the last pieces of strawberries, and glance at her. "Are you already drunk?"

“No,” she laughs, “fine, don’t take the compliment then.”

“Fine, don’t take the compliment then,” you playfully mocked her. “Go have a seat, Jihyo. I’ll be there in a few seconds.”

“Need some help? I’ll carry the other plate.” You decide to give her the plate of mangoes and walk behind her to the living room. As soon as she sits, you turn on the lamp and open the blinds slightly to set a calm mood with the night sky in the view.

“Jihyo, I’ll be busy in the afternoon. Hope that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine. Do what you have to do.”

“Call Jeongyeon or anyone to come over and have some fun while I’m away.”

“It’s alright. I’ll most likely sleep until you come home.” She said, picking up the fork and eating a slice of mango while she contemplates to choose which bottle of alcohol to open.

You glance at the clock on top of the tv—three-thirty in the morning, and look back at Jihyo munching on a strawberry as she makes eye contact with you. “Open the whiskey and let’s have a drink, Jihyo.”

She gladly grabs the whiskey and places it on her chest, tits mashing onto it to give her some leverage. “Oppa,” she said, struggling, “it’s too tight. Can you open it?”

“Gimmie,” you said and twisted the cap easily to pour it into the shot glass. "I might have closed it too tight," you laughed.

“Cheers!” Jihyo said, clinging to each other’s glass and smiling at you before taking the shot. After taking the shot, she sits closer, enough for your thigh to touch hers. You didn’t mind at all. Besides, she feels safer with you than being alone in her apartment. You could clearly tell by her actions.

“Oppa, is Sana getting in the way of you and Tzu?”

“No. Not at all. Why?”

“Sana keeps talking about you in the group chat.”

“Sexually?”

“You know, the way you fuck her. She loves it to the point of sharing with everyone in the chat. Did you know that?”

“Tzu told me a little. But I can’t do anything about it.”

“But how did all of this start? The weekly thing with Sana.” Majority of the members knew that Sana was over every week, but they didn’t know it all started as Jihyo wondered. Which, you couldn’t really come up with an exact answer to.

“It just happened that way. It’s Sana, Jihyo.”

“She's hot, isn't she? I would understand if I were you. Another shot?” She said excitedly. “C’mon, we have all night to ourselves.”

“You’re such a bad influence. Did you forget I’m busy in the afternoon?”

“Wait..then..shouldn’t you sleep? Fuck, we don’t have to this. Maybe next time? Tomorrow night? Or the next?”

“Did you forget? I’m not a human like you said.”

“I didn’t mean it, Oppa. But I think you should sleep instead of staying up with me.” She said with her hands on her chest to show her sincerity.

"It's okay," you say as you take a bite of mango from your fork.

“No, seriously. I think we should just go to sleep. I'll give you something special once we wake up."

“You wanted to stay up. It’s too late to turn back, Jihyo. Let’s just continue."

——

One shot after another, laughter and the clinking of glasses echoed in the air. After an hour, Jihyo's face had turned red. The effects of alcohol were beginning to take her, not just on her, but on you as well. The half-empty bottle of whiskey was completely drained, and she had switched to beer and wine. You couldn't help but anticipate the potential things alcohol would do to her.

“You ever thought of putting a baby in me?” Jihyo said unexpectedly and picked up her cup of beer to take a big gulp.

Even after she spoke, you found yourself at a loss for words. Your mind scrambled to form a response, “I think you’re drunk, Jihyo,” you said, avoiding her question.

“I’m not.” And she gets on top of you, staring right into your eyes, “you never avoid my questions, but is it because it’s too early to talk about this?" Then she tilts her head to the right, "wouldn't you like to see what we created after nine months if we get a chance?"

You discreetly checked her wrist for a pulse, which was beating irregularly due to the alcohol she had consumed. As the room fell silent, you found yourself unable to answer but have to be direct.

“We aren’t in love, Jihyo.” You said, forcing yourself to draw a line between both of you in the most gentle way possible.

“I know we aren't, but it doesn’t change the fact that you would have gotten me pregnant at the start if I wasn’t on a pill.”

“Jihyo,” you chuckled and all flustered, “I mean, I probably would have gotten you pregnant when we first fucked, wouldn’t I?”

"Hey, let's work something out." And she gets closer to your ear, "promise me something. If the stars align, or once everything settles down, I don't want us two to just be all business.”

As confused as you are about what she said, you think she’s clearly drunk saying nonsense things, and at the same time, you were getting buzzed. Perhaps it's because Jihyo is sitting right on top of you, looking hotter than she looked in the dress you saw tonight.

Jihyo is consistently the one who takes the lead in seducing you. She's the woman who effortlessly maintains the conversation, even as you sneak a glance at the clock—five-fifteen in the morning. "J-Jihyo…"

She puts her finger on your lips to shut you up. “I might be drunk, but what I’m saying is what I think of you other than our bodyguard. I may regret what I say once the sun is already up.” And her finger never left your lips. “Shhh. I can’t stand you looking at me so hot.” You stare at her silently, and she rolls up her shirt to only cover you in it with her tits right in your face. The feeling of her tits was warm; they were soft like a pillow. Only you would be able to kiss and suck on them as she held you in without much force but a smile, seeing you under her shirt. You felt her pulse as you explored each side of her tits with your mouth. 

As you sucked on her nipple, you could only think of what she was saying while you were also slowly getting buzzed by how fast your heart was beating. It’s all confusing—the atmosphere, the way Jihyo was pleading you for something in return, and even her grinding on your cock got you to endlessly think of an answer. 

"Let’s take things slowly," she moaned. “Forget the bed. Let’s do it here first. I can’t stand it anymore,” she whispered with a heavy breath. “I love it when you give my tits attention. I love it so fucking much. I love the way you touch and kiss them.”

You didn’t answer at all when all the attention she gave you was her tits. Seconds later, Jihyo decides to take off her shirt and mash both sides of her tits hard on your face. With a chuckle being heard from Jihyo, she found it cute, so much so to get her even wet and make her panties damp from how turned on she was. 

“Oppa,” she moaned from feeling you flicking your tongue on her nipple, and lift you from her tits. You stare right in her eyes, silently seeing how turned on she was. “Let me do you a favor and take off your clothes. May I?”

“I’m not stopping you, Jihyo.”

“You’re really killing me. So damn good.”

“Enough talking. More fucking.”

What you didn’t expect was when she turns off the lamp right beside the couch. Only the moonlight lit the house from the big glass windows and the small faint light from the kitchen. You were enchanted in her spell, seduced and doing it on purpose was one thing—only to see how far Jihyo can seduce you. She slowly takes off your clothes and plant kisses to your neck. “I know you’re loving this, Oppa.”

“I am.”

“Your lips look bored,” Jihyo said. At this point, there was no going back when she’s so drunk right on top of you. Her tone’s different and seductive. You didn’t even bother asking why Jihyo started whispering with no one else in the room except for you. The smell of beer and whiskey lingered from each other’s breath.

Then that would be the last conversation between you two once she quickly takes off her pants and slides her panties to the side. Jihyo puts your cock inside her. Both of you moan quietly when Jihyo sits down and your cock disappears deep inside her pussy. You never forgot how tight and wet Jihyo can get. She never forgot the way your cock stretched her walls, and the way your cock throbs and pulsates is a compliment to Jihyo. She puts her arm on your shoulders, leaning closer to kiss you as she grinds slowly, gradually quickening the pace every second to find a good rhythm. 

Your breath gets heavier, breathing right into each other’s mouth and fighting to be the dominant kisser, to the point where you would be the one. All the problems she told you about disappeared because she got what she had been desperate for. After a long day, Jihyo wanted the night to be long until the morning, and you did the right thing to grant her wish—fucking each other until sunrise. 

And she found the perfect rhythm to ride you. You grabbed her ass, groping it while you wanted to help her ride you without Jihyo being the one putting in the work. She couldn’t be happier than tonight. Because of you, Jihyo smiled, cried happily, and even gotten to talk to you in the most genuine way before sex.

She felt like the only woman in the world.

The atmosphere turned hotter when Jihyo moaned right in your ear to turn you on even more. You gave her ass a couple gentle slaps, firmly grabbing them every second you could. She decides to free you from her hug and grabs onto the side of your face to look at each other. The deadly and lustful stares she gave you made your heart race even faster. 

“Jihyo,” you groaned. Your breathing becomes the heaviest whenever she takes your cock deeper. “Fuck, Jihyo,” and you get a whiff of her neck, kissing and biting it softly to make her moan more seductively.

“Oppa,” she moaned. “Ugh…mhmm, I can feel it throbbing inside.” Jihyo hugs you in right between her tits again. You knew what to do and sucked on her nipple, making her groan seductively in the dark living room. “Let’s go to the room. Fuck me and cum deep inside me. Imagine what we’ll be doing in a couple years, right in the same bed.”

“Such dirty thoughts, Jihyo.” You carry her into the bedroom with your cock still inside. Gently, you fall right onto the bed and penetrate her deeper, pushing onto her thighs the hardest like she wanted. You put her legs together, and she held onto them, assuming that’s what you wanted. With a grin, you penetrated her pussy with each thrust. Your cock in and out of her pussy just to pump and dump the load she will get. Her moans got more erotic, screaming with a visible smile from the corner of her mouth. 

“You’re so fucking deep in me,” she murmured and gasped. Also, Jihyo couldn’t hold her legs any longer because of how deeply you were penetrating her tight walls. Jihyo’s leg became weak as if her body had surrendered to you for the better. “Oppa,” she moaned, bursting into a sudden scream, and starts to cum with her legs tensely shaking as she grabs onto your arm to hold.

You didn’t stop at all but thrust harder and faster, as deep as you could get inside Jihyo, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. You lean closer and push her abdomen down with your hands just to make her scream louder, all while making her feel like your cock reached to her stomach. Jihyo covers her mouth with two of her hands, leaning back into the pillow to feel the sensation of you deep inside her. But when sex became this passionate and words were barely spoken, you couldn’t hold out any longer when Jihyo begged to have it all. She deserved it. 

You grunt, taking a deep breath, knowing that you’re going to cum. And you do so without telling her at all. She already knew. Jihyo got what she wanted tonight. You grab onto her tits and squeezing them to your desires as you dump every drop of cum deep into her with her thighs being pressed onto yours. 

Both of you catch a breath quietly, she holds onto your hand that’s squeezing her tits, and caresses you slowly. “Oppa,” she said, totally exhausted, unable to finish her words.

“Fuck, what time is it?” You wondered, glancing out the window as Jihyo locks you in with her leg around your hip. The sky was no longer as dark, signaling the early stages of dawn. It felt like time had skipped, and you realized you had completely misjudged the hours.

As time distracted you, Jihyo turns you back to her with her hands on your cheek, “how did this turn out so damn passionate?” She laughs cutely and softly with a smile that you can see more clearly. “Oppa,” and she hugs you tightly, squeezing you in, chest against chest. Without completing her intended words, all she can express is gratitude through this heartfelt hug.

Without a doubt, you both were tired from the alcohol and fucking. Jihyo decided to pepper you with kisses, and you thought it was excessive of her. “Your bed is so comfortable, Oppa.” 

“And it’s also where you’re going to sleep for the next few days too. Better not go to sleep. Don’t you want to see the sunrise?”

“Mhmm.”

You get off of her to lay beside her, together facing at the window naked, and slowly see the sunrise in the distance. “Jihyo,” you said silently.

“Yes, Oppa?”

“Sober now?”

“Did I mistakenly say something? Fuck..”

From her response, it became evident that she harbored some kind of feeling that you don’t know. The words that she said when drunk was for sure something she has been thinking about you. It’s always alcohol getting the best out of Jihyo. “You didn’t say anything wrong,” you said, assuring and hiding the words that she may be embarrassed of.

What you were unaware of is that she never saw you merely as Twice's bodyguard; rather, she can envision a future with you. It was only her pride that held her back. The only method she could think of to bring herself closer to you was through her discreet approach of spending several days with you, hoping to witness a different side of you. As the sun continued to rise, she closed her eyes with a pleasant smile.

"Jihyo," you softly whisper, "Jihyo?" And you gently lean in to catch a glimpse of her. She's fast asleep, peacefully resting with your arm wrapped around her, providing a comforting embrace.

Despite you assuming that she was sleeping, she pretended to sleep. Jihyo knew you were busy later and wanted to ensure you had some time to rest. You fell quickly asleep, wrapping your arms around her, and she couldn't help but blush at the warmth of your body gave off after fucking.

After several minutes of you completely knocking out, Jihyo slowly removes your arm off of her and quietly leaves the bedroom all naked to clean up the small mess you both left in the living room. She returns the beer and wine to their original places, disposing of the empty whiskey bottle and extra cans of beer in the recycling bin. The clothes that both of you wore were placed in the laundry, ready for her to wash once you've left the house.

The sun reached its peak, casting a warm glow as Jihyo returned to bed and held you in to her tits as a pillow. “Oppa, I think I like you more than what we currently are.” She confessed quietly, embarrassed to face you knowing that you didn’t feel the same.

[thebrightestwitchofherage]

The UN's Official Mission report on Hamas' Sexual Violence in Israel was published

Please take your time to read this. Israeli \ Jewish victims deserve the same protection as any other women.

The brief version can be read here.

----

***I am not going to include any graphic detailing.

The pattern of Sexual Violence used by Hamas is very clear:

It was one of their key goals and tactics on October 7th.

You cannot say "Female Hostages are treated well. you're lying by saying they're raped" anymore!

Notice how they also said **Children**

Civilians were in fact burned inside their homes

This is also clearly a pattern used by Hamas, as this is just one of many examples they detail. -Hamas has also burned soldiers alive in their dorms and offices. That is also further detailed in the report.

This is not fake or propaganda

I can't believe I have to write this but this report is an official report (finally) made by the UN's Sexual Violence Office, as part of their yearly report.

They had a 2-week delegation that toured the actual Kibbutzim (turned crime scenes), interviewed eyewitnesses, spoke to families of victims, etc...

___

I do have to say I was mistaken in my earlier post, besides their conclusion, they have also written their recommendations:

...." V. Conclusions

Overall, based on the totality of information gathered from multiple and independent sources at the different locations, there are reasonable grounds to believe that conflict-related sexual violence occurred at several locations across the Gaza periphery, including in the form of rape and gang rape, during the 7 October 2023 attacks. Credible circumstantial information, which may be indicative of some forms of sexual violence, including genital mutilation, sexualized torture, or cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment, was also gathered. 22

With regards to the hostages, the mission team found clear and convincing information that some hostages taken to Gaza have been subjected to various forms of conflict-related sexual violence and has reasonable grounds to believe that such violence may be ongoing.

The mission team was unable to establish the prevalence of sexual violence and concludes that the overall magnitude, scope, and specific attribution of these violations would require a fully-fledged investigation. A comprehensive investigation would enable the information base to be expanded in locations which the mission team was not able to visit and to build the required trust with survivors/victims of conflict-related sexual violence who may be reluctant to come forward at this point.

Regarding the occupied Palestinian Territory, while its scope did not extend to verification, the mission team received information from institutional and civil society sources as well as through direct interviews, about some forms of sexual violence against Palestinian men and women in detention settings, during house raids and at checkpoints. Though the mission team did not visit Gaza, the Office of the SRSG-SVC will continue to monitor the situation for any relevant allegations of CRSV in the context of the ongoing hostilities. The relevant UN entities present in the occupied Palestinian Territory will provide UN-verified information for reporting to the Security Council on allegations of CRSV, which will be complemented by the information obtained by the mission team.

VI. Recommendations

The mission team makes the following recommendations: a) Continue to encourage the Government of Israeli to grant, without further delay, access to the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights and the Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem and Israel, to carry-out fully-fledged investigations into all alleged violations that would deepen the preliminary findings contained in the present report. b) Urge Hamas and other armed groups to immediately and unconditionally release all individuals held in captivity and to ensure their protection including from sexual violence, in line with international law. c) Call on all relevant and competent bodies, national and international, to bring all perpetrators, regardless of rank or affiliation, to justice based on individual, superior and command responsibility, in accordance with due process of law and fair trial standards. d) Encourage the Government of Israel to consider signing a Framework of Cooperation with the Office of the SRSG-SVC to strengthen capacity on justice and accountability for CRSV crimes as well as security sector engagement, training, and oversight to prevent and address CRSV. 23 e) Strengthen the capacity of the United Nations to monitor and report on incidents, patterns and trends of CRSV in both Israel and the occupied Palestinian Territory through the establishment of the Monitoring, Analysis and Reporting Arrangements on CRSV (MARA), convened by dedicated technical specialists, namely Women’s Protection Advisors (WPAs), deployed to the region to ensure prevention, protection and coordinated multi-sectoral assistance to survivors/victims. f) Encourage relevant actors to uphold information integrity and ethical, trauma-informed representations of conflict-related sexual violence, including by respecting and safeguarding the dignity and identity of survivors/victims and witnesses of sexual violence, as sensationalizing headlines, media pressure and scrutiny, exposure of identity, political instrumentalization and pressure, and/or fear of reprisal can result in the suppression, silencing and discrediting of survivors/victims and witnesses, further compound trauma and increase the risk of social stigmatization. g) Urge all parties to the conflict to adopt a humanitarian ceasefire, and to ensure that expertise on addressing conflict-related sexual violence informs the design and implementation of all ceasefire and political agreements and that the voices of women and affected communities are heard in all conflict resolution and peacebuilding processes....."

Israelis have been repeatedly saying all of this for months now, while you deny it. I've personally had people tell me it's all "fake propaganda". You should all be ashamed.

I am infuriated at the fact that for 5 months, our evidence and word isn't enough for Anti-Zionists. Here is some undeniable proof for you.

Believe Jewish Women.

[sourpeachsayshi]

(minors / ageless / blank blogs dni)

tags: choso has a stepcest kink (very light); alludes to choso being high; porn watching; nipple play; fingering; squirting; non con (they are being watched); I finally have the courage to post this draft slkdjf don't shame me

regarding yuji's best friend reader and his big brother choso and this idea I wrote a while back: Hmp catching your best friend’s older brother (choso) watching porn, so he invites you into his room to join him - and while you watch he just sucks on your tits and slowly fingers you until you squirt all over is sheets.

you're face is so hot watching this video, the girl is moaning while she's being eaten out. you're not sure if you should focus on her responses or on choso sucking your nipples like his life depends on it.

"is-is this what turns you on?" you stammer, the blaring fact that the actors are playing step siblings sending a shiver all over your body.

your breath hitches, choso's own staggering as he looks up at you with slightly blood shot eyes. "it's kinda hot, right? that they are doing something that they shouldn't..."

he says this as he slides two fingers underneath your underwear, his other hand pinching your erect nipple. he pushes two fingers between your wet folds, hearing you whine as he carefully starts fucking you.

your mouth is dry, your head falling to the pillow where the side of your cheek is illuminated by blue light blaring from his monitor. you're trying not to read so much into his comment about forbidden hook ups, and you're unsure if your heart is racing because of the thrill or if you're overwhelmed.

he sucks on your tit, releasing it with a pop, his fingers working magic between your legs. "The plot is whatever, a cliche I guess," he admits, "but she's hot, and the way he fucks her..." he groans, snagging you tender nipple between his teeth, "it's kinda how I think about fucking you..."

you're gushing down to his knuckles, your body shuddering at the prospect of getting fucked by this sinful man. you don't say anything else then, but you keep your attention focused on the screen. when it gets to the scene where he does fuck her, you only imagine how it would feel with choso instead.

the actors are splayed out on the living room sofa, the girl getting fucked so hard and rough in the middle of the living room. you can't help but wonder if choso is desperate to claim you this heatedly in the sanctuary of his own home for a reason, and if that reason has anything to do with wanting him to make his mark on his brother's best friend.

his mouth is circled over your left breast, sucking and licking over the bud as his fingers move faster. he's grinding into the mattress, his erection making a mess of his jeans, and you know that's he's getting far to into it when his own moans start getting louder and louder.

you know you're going to cum hard when he starts pressing up against the sweet spot that makes everything in you seize up, and he has to use his other hand to clasp over your mouth so that you don't scream as you squirt all over his t-shirt.

you're so dizzy in the aftermath, but as your eyes fall to choso's bedroom door you realize that it's not completely closed. through the sliver of the gap you spot the color of fiery red, and you instantly shoot up which startles the man before you.

"what's wrong?" choso asks, using this as opportunity to turn off the screen of his monitor.

you shake your head, "I-I thought I saw something..."

choso circles his arms around your waist, and drops his weight on top of you as he lays you both back on the mattress.

"yuji isn't even here, baby," he reminds you.

which is true, except sukuna decided to pay his younger brothers a visit and was startled to find out that you're a lot closer to this family than he even thought.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Nightcrawler? yes please

"Charles?"

"Come in," he answered,"I've been expecting you." He turned in his chair and regarded you. And you appreciate him making an effort trying to stay out of your head. It's not a happy place right now and you don't want it meddled with.

"You need to keep the kids close to the house this week," you urge.

He frowned slightly, "This could be a chance to-"

"They beat me with electrical cords, starved me, and told me I was full of demons," you tell him flatly, "And they were supposed to love me. What do you think they would do to some random kid?"

Kurt stepped closer behind you and rubbed your upper arms, reminding you he was there. He'd offered to do this for you. To let you rest. To let you try and calm your mind.

"Y/N I understand-"

"Do you?" You ask, "They told everyone I was dead. And even today they still called me a witch."

"And other things," Kurt added, mouth twisting in disgust. A slut. A whore. Degrading you in public. And for what? Having the gaul to get ice cream? How did they know what happened in your bed room? And why did they care?

Charles looked from you to Kurt and nodded. Seeing the events of the day through Kurt's eyes instead. "We'll monitor the situation," he compromised.

"And I'd expect protestors. Probably unarmed. But they'll make a hell of a racket. And whip up a mess- they have a specific play book."

"One you know well?" Charles asked.

"Unless they've changed but- the church elders aren't going to let go until they die off and they won't change anything until they have to."

"Then I think we're well situated to handle it," he said.

"Charles," Kurt protested, "It's not-"

"We will protect her," Charles said, remembering the little girl who'd tripped her way out of the woods so many years before. With nothing but scraps of eavesdropped information and change from the couch cushions to get her this far from home.

[nedenacabaki]

ELNOPARQUE - GOLD

Creating a Pet-Friendly Home: Understanding the Relationship Between Houseplants and Pets

As pet owners, creating a safe environment for our furry companions is a top priority. When it comes to selecting houseplants, it's important to be aware of which ones may pose a risk to our beloved pets. Here are some common queries regarding houseplants and their potential toxicity to pets:

Are Snake Plants Toxic to Cats?

Snake plants (Sansevieria) are generally considered safe for cats, but ingestion may result in mild toxicity, leading to symptoms such as vomiting or diarrhea. It's essential to restrict your pet's access to snake plants and seek veterinary advice if ingestion occurs.

Are Snake Plants Toxic to Dogs?

Similar to cats, snake plants are typically safe for dogs, although ingestion can cause mild gastrointestinal discomfort. It's advisable to monitor and limit your pet's exposure to snake plants.

Are Orchids Poisonous to Cats?

Orchids are generally non-toxic to cats, but it's still important to exercise caution. While orchid consumption rarely results in serious toxicity, it may cause mild digestive issues in some sensitive felines.

Ensuring the safety and well-being of our pets involves making informed decisions, especially when it comes to selecting houseplants. At El Noparque, we encourage pet owners to prioritize their furry friends' health and provide informative resources on the effects of plants on pets.

[stepintothelimelight]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ SPITFIRE TITLE POST

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ SPITFIRE [SERIES MASTERLIST]

[SCROLL DOWN FOR EXCLUSIVE CONTENT!]

2017

don’t stop me now! - Abu Dhabi 2017 ╰┈➤ Spitfire’s first F1 race hasn’t every little christmas wish been sent? - xmas 2017 ╰┈➤A blue Christmas in Monaco

2018

i feel alright, i’m gonna take on the world ╰┈➤ in honor of Spitfire’s graduation

she can go home, but she’s not going to ╰┈➤ a home race that doesn’t feel like home anymore

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ THE MAIN CHARACTER

╰┈➤ You are the first female driver to hold a permanent seat in Formula 1. This is a personal documentary on pivotal moments in both your professional and personal lives.

[fem!genz!reader x f1 grid, eventual reader x ln4]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ THE CONCEPT ART

╰┈➤ loading ….

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ FEATURING

╰┈➤ SEBASTIAN VETTEL as ‘MENTOR-SLASH-GRID MOM’

╰┈➤ LEWIS HAMILTON as ‘TEAMMATE-SLASH-GRID DAD’

╰┈➤ CHARLES LECLERC as ‘BOY BSF #1: THE HIMBO AND 1/3 OF F1 GOLDEN TRIO’

╰┈➤MAX VERSTAPPEN as ‘BOY BSF #2: MAD MAX AND 1/3 OF F1 GOLDEN TRIO’

╰┈➤LANDO NORRIS as ‘SLOW BURN LOVE INTEREST’

╰┈➤ DANIEL RICCIARDO as ‘BIG BRO DANIEL’

╰┈➤KIMI RAIKKONEN as ‘EVERYTHING Y/N ASPIRES TO BECOME’

╰┈➤ OSCAR PIASTRI as ‘GRID SON-SLASH-PROTEGE’

╰┈➤ FERNANDO ALONSO as ‘OVERPROTECTIVE GRID UNCLE’

and much much more!

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄THE SOUNDTRACK

2017

╰┈➤ Don’t Stop Me Now - Queen

╰┈➤ Oh Noel - I DONT KNOW HOW THEY FOUND ME

2018

╰┈➤ Take On the World (Theme Song From “Girl Meets World”) - Rowan Blanchard, Sabrina Carpenter

╰┈➤ Graceland Too - Phoebe Bridgers

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄HEADCANONS, REQUESTS AND MORE

╰┈➤ loading ….

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ DIRECTOR’S COMMENTARY

╰┈➤ THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. IN NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM DOES THIS DEPICT ANYTHING OTHER THAN FICTIONAL EVENTS! DON’T READ TOO DEEPLY INTO ANYTHING WRITTEN HERE BECAUSE IT’S FICTIONAL!

╰┈➤ I honestly don’t know how many parts this is going to end up being

╰┈➤ I don’t really have a set updating schedule - it’s just based on when I’m feeling it

╰┈➤ What to expect/ CONTENT WARNINGS: SMAU, written work, cursing, F1 inaccuracies, OOC people, eventual smut or suggestive content, Physical violence, complicated familial relationships, mommy issues, daddy issues, character death, familial death, historical inaccuracies, sexism, implied/ referenced child abuse

╰┈➤ EVERY ENTRY WILL HAVE ITS OWN CONTENT WARNINGS!! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR MONITORING THE CONTENT THAT YOU CONSUME

╰┈➤ sorry for yelling :D

╰┈➤ if you want to be tagged either hmu in the inbox or comment on one of the posts for this series

╰┈➤ requests regarding this series are open!

╰┈➤ tag for this series: #juliette….spitfire

[ddejavvu]

hiiiii mei, how are you??

do you remember that trend on tik tok, where you dont let your partner kiss you/wipe away their kiss?? what about something like that with aaron??

love you and alllllll your writings!!<33

thank you! this ask got me so giddy to write that i got out of bed <3

--

For a profiler, Aaron isn't very observant. Or maybe he just lets his guard down while you're at home, which is why he doesn't notice your phone half-hidden and recording on top of the fridge.

"-and Penelope wants us using some new app," Aaron rambles, knife slicing through the top of a strawberry and butting up to the pad of his thumb, "BeReal? It sounds like an invasion of privacy."

He hands over the sliced strawberry to you where you're perched on the kitchen counter, and you take it eagerly from his hands. He's making a fruit salad, but you're eating your fair share in pieces that don't quite make it to the bowl.

You can tell he's leaning in for a kiss before he begins slicing up a watermelon, so you turn before he can get too close, grabbing his phone that's on the counter beside you and pretending to search for the app.

"It's not that bad," You shrug, "I've heard of it."

He hums in acknowledgement, waiting until your attention is back on him. It's obvious that he's not starting the watermelon until he gets a kiss, and you'd look suspicious if you didn't glance up at him.

"You want me to download it?" You ask, keeping your head down but your eyes on him. He shrugs, plucking a sliced grape out of the mixing bowl, "Sure."

He leans in, keeping the grape between his fingers as you get busy downloading the app. While your eyes are still downturned, he leans forwards to kiss your forehead, and only when that's done does he move the grape to his mouth.

You reach up before he can eat it, though, and wipe the back of your hand over his kiss mark, eyes still glued to his phone screen.

He freezes, grape in hand, mouth half open in anticipation of the snack. Then he slowly lowers his hand, dropping the grape to the counter with no regard for the sticky stain that it'll leave on the granite.

"I'm sorry," He plants his hands on either side of your hips, leaning in until his nose is brushing against yours and you're forced to look up from his phone. You raise your head, brows lifting with it as you stare curiously at him.

"Did I do something?" He asks, leaning into your space so far that it takes all of your willpower not to close the gap and kiss him.

"No," You shake your head simply, leaning back to get a better view of his phone screen, "It's almost downloaded. Then you can-"

"Hey, give me that," He commands, voice low and gentle. He takes his phone, locking it haphazardly and stuffing it in his back pocket. Then he replaces his hand, brown eyes staring imploringly into yours.

"What did I do?" He hums, somewhere between concern and amusement; unsure if he should frown at your actions or smile at your slight pout.

"Nothing!" You insist, pointedly not giving into the urge to kiss him, "What's wrong with you?"

That cements concern into his face. His brows pull down, and his lips settle in that familiar frown as he studies your face, barely an inch away.

"I was talking too much about my day," He guesses, "I should have asked about yours, too."

"No," You feign indifference, shaking your head, "Nothing's wrong, Aaron."

It's very hard to keep your composure like this. He's leaning into your space, you can feel him, you can see him, you can smell him, and you want to taste him. But you stay strong, if only for the video.

"Then let me kiss you." He murmurs, eyes carefully monitoring your reaction. You don't show your usual enthusiasm, only a casual, 'okay'.

His eyes narrow infinitesimally, "No. You kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me," He repeats, "I want a kiss."

"Why can't you just kiss me?" You furrow your brows, trying to ridicule him, "Aaron, are you feeling okay?"

He almost looks offended now, a vein in his neck shifting, "Why won't you kiss me?"

"I never said I wouldn't kiss you!" You huff, "But you said you were gonna kiss me, and then all of a sudden you backed off and insisted that I do it, and you got all up in my business while I was trying to do something! What is your problem?"

"You wiped away my kiss." He finally gives in, and at this point you're having trouble staying upright with how far you have to lean away from him, "I kissed your forehead, and you wiped it away. Am I crazy for thinking that probably means there's something wrong?"

"I didn't wipe away your kiss," You scramble for an excuse, but your facade is slipping, and he sees the faintest hint of a repressed smile on your face. You're glad when he lightens up himself, not wanting him to really get worked up over a joke.

"Yes you did," He laughs incredulously, now more confused than concerned, "You little liar! Alright, spill," He pinches at your hip, shoulders squared as he continues leaning into your personal space, "What's the deal?"

"It's-" You stammer, brain working on overdrive to pump out an excuse you know Aaron will see right through anyways, "It's for a video, Aaron."

He pauses; clearly it wasn't the answer he was expecting.

Your eyes flash to the camera on the fridge and he follows your gaze, then disapprovingly glares back at you. The expression is stern, but there's always a layer of fondness over his features when it comes to you and now is no different.

"I'm sorry," You grin placatingly, kissing his tight frown. Now it's he who ignores you, and you dot kisses around each feature of his face in an attempt to make up for lost time.

"It's a big trend right now," You explain, lips pressing to the bridge of his nose as his eyes almost go crossed trying to keep his glare on you, "I just wanted to try it for fun!"

"That was not fun." He's using his unit chief voice, the one that straightens Morgan's spine and sets Garcia's nerves on edge. But it still has that sweet Aaron lilt, that you wish you could steal like a sea witch to keep it forever.

"It was fun for me," You hum, pecking once more at his frown, "I got a strawberry and you got, like, really really close to me."

"You're lucky I love you too much to make you believe in karma," He grumbles, finally giving in and kissing you back, "Or the first BeReal I posted would be you crying because I wouldn't kiss you all night."

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - postlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the fourth part of this fic, please read the other parts first! It seems that the fairy tale of you and Dottore comes to an end. Follows some of Sumeru's storyline. Warning for death. Angst. Thank you to my mootie @kaixserzz and my all of my dear anons (🎐, 🐓 <3) who kept me inspired to keep writing this fic :3

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”

There had been a buzz around the lab lately. Some of the segments had been ordered to leave for a Fatui mission. Which, would have been a normal occurrence, were it not for the place they were headed to this time.

“Sumeru? You’re going to Sumeru?” Your home country had instantly gotten your attention, not only because you haven’t been back in centuries, but also because the segments were never usually dispatched there, instead causing their usual chaos in other nations.

“Indeed. We will see if the Balladeer is able to become the God he so desires to be,” Omega hummed, moving a hand underneath your shirt to record your heartbeat. Ah, that was right. The puppet had stolen the Electro Gnosis to use as his ascension into godhood… and Dottore would be there to see how his experiment plays out. Well, you already had a feeling about how that would turn out. 

Moving on to a different subject, although Sumeru was the home you and Zandik were chased out of, you still held fond memories of it. Many happy things happened there for you, so the thought of it made you smile.

“You have to bring back lots of stories for me! And souvenirs! Oh, I would love to see how much Sumeru has changed from all those years ago,” you dreamily smiled. Yeah, your favorite cafe was probably gone by now… but you’d love to see what replaced it!

“Of course. I expect there will be much to say with the God of Wisdom and the Traveler intervening as well,” Omega chuckled, scribbling down something on his clipboard after glancing at the monitor, before fixing your shirt back.

“Your vitals have been better lately,” the segment commented and patted your head, which you happily indulged in. It wasn’t too noticeable, but it seemed like your body was getting even a little bit better. Not much, a little. But that was good anyway. “But run along now. There is much preparation to be done regarding the trip to Sumeru.”

“Okayyyy,” you stretched your words a bit disappointedly, not wanting to leave the segment, but you knew he had a lot of work to do. So instead you settled with pecking him on the cheek which he of course returned tenfold before you went off on your way. You had quite a few segments to say goodbye to, after all! You’d miss them a lot, but, you still had the other segments here with you. And your lover of course.

Surely, they would be back in the blink of an eye. Yes, surely, they’d return just as they always did. You had no reason to think otherwise. And so for the next few days, everything was normal. Time passed regularly. You got through the days as you did with any other.

But one day was different.

You were in your room by yourself, enjoying your alone time. Because as much as you loved being around the segments, you still liked being by yourself too. But all of a sudden, your tranquility was interrupted by literally a bang on your door, which made you jump.

The knock on your door was frantic and loud. Immediately you hopped out of bed to see what could possibly be so important that your door was getting pounded, but when you opened the door there was no one there. You were very confused… how was that possible? This was a pretty long hallway. Even with the segments’ abilities, there was no way they could just disappear into thin air like that. 

A bad feeling began to creep up on you, your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t know why, but it just did. But surely you were overreacting. Perhaps… perhaps… actually, you didn’t have any valid reasoning you could think of right now. Maybe though, maybe you should go and check on them. Just in case. You know that they’ll be there, in the lab doing their experiments or perhaps bickering with each other as usual, but there was nothing wrong with double-checking. And then you’ll calm yourself with a nice hug from one of them. It would all be okay. 

But you found that your steps were quicker and longer than usual, your breathing heavier than usual. As you got closer to the main lab’s doors, you strained your ears for their voices, anything, something, but heard nothing. You licked and bit your lip that had gone dry, weak legs walking even faster if that was possible, before you swung open the doors, hoping to see those blue mops of hair you so desired to see.

Nothing. The room was empty.

Your footsteps slowed, walking into the room cautiously. It was strange because it looked as if there were people in here just a few minutes ago. Notes that were left unfinished halfway. Beakers that had broken on the floor, with some mysterious liquids soaking the floor. Strange, very strange. And yet no trace of any segments remained.

The bad feeling had grown into something much worse now. Where else? Where else could they be? 

Their rooms. You should check their rooms. They were usually there if they weren’t in the lab, doing their own respective work (because their office and rooms doubled as one since they didn’t need to sleep.) So despite how your chest burned, and your legs ached, it didn’t matter if it meant your heart would be soothed and relieved.

You ran as fast as you could, more like you tried to because your illness had really kicked in since your mind was stressing out a great amount. As you clung to the walls, catching your breath, you paid no mind to the random agents who were looking at you funny, nor did you manage to catch their words of “Omega” or “erased” or “gone.”

It took longer than it should have taken you, but at last, you made it to the corridor with the segments’ rooms. You didn’t bother to knock, swinging open the door to Alpha’s room.

Empty.

Beta’s room.

Empty.

Every single room was empty. Fuck, even Zandy’s room was empty. And he was always in there if he wasn’t with you. Your head was throbbing with unease now, your heavy, troubled breathing sounding throughout the whole hallway. Where? Where? Where did they go…?!

“[Name].” A voice sounded from behind you. Spinning around, it was Dottore. Your Dottore! Okay, at least he was still here!

“Dottore,” you breathed a sigh of relief. He would have an explanation for this. “Dottore, where are all the segments? I-I can’t find them anywhere. I mean, I know the lab is really big, but it’s strange for them not to be in these areas,” you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart, trying to calm it, not noticing your husband’s expression.

“...” The scientist was unsure of how to break the news to you because he knew of the bond you shared with the segments.

“Dottore? Why aren’t you answering me?” He opened his mouth to respond, but paused, seemingly trying to determine the best way to phrase his words. That only worried you more, because he was never one to sugarcoat his words. Your nervousness had returned once more, burning heat from fear creeping up your shoulders. “Zandik, answer me.”

“They’re gone, [Name].” The words took a few moments to settle in, silence overtaking the area for a little bit. But only for a little bit, as your nervous laughter rang out interrupting it.

“Gone?” You repeated. “What do you mean gone? They just can’t be gone. Right? Right, Dottore?” The nervous smile that had etched its way onto your face hurt badly, the laughter mixed with wheezing was painful, but it was all you could do to convince yourself this was a lie.

“Omega has… deleted them in exchange for the Electro Gnosis.” You looked at him blankly, the former emotion on your face gone.

“Deleted? Deleted from this world? From existence?” Your tone got higher and higher as you continued speaking. You didn’t even know Omega had the ability to do that. Or that the segments could be erased in the first place. Dottore just nodded in response. 

“But- but why? Surely t-there was another way?” Your voice was on the verge of breaking into tears.

“He wanted to show respect to the God of-”

“Respect? To a God, of all people?” You hissed, bubbles of anger surfacing now through your agony. “He’s a Harbinger, is he not? And he’s stronger than that God! He- he could have easily found another way! He didn’t have to DELETE the segments! Another method HAD to have been possible! Did he even try to negotiate?!” Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you raised your voice at him. It took everything it had in you not to fully scream. You began to pace back and forth, hand covering your already tear-streaked face, whole body shaking. Your husband could only watch.

Dottore wasn’t thrilled with Omega deleting all his segments either, with the endless resources that went into creating them, but what’s done was done. And both the Electro and Dendro Gnoses were acquired. But you? You were on the verge of hysterics. He had never, not once, seen you like this. 

You had come to a stop, head buried into your arm as you braced against the wall. Oh, the segments were gone forever. They were never coming back. You could only imagine how they must have been in their last moments. That they only had a few more moments to live. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about what Zandy must have thought in his last few seconds.

And what’s more, the segments had disappeared into… nothingness. There was no trace, no remains of their bodies whatsoever. And although seeing their bodies on the floor would have certainly destroyed you, perhaps this was even a worse fate. Because it was as if they never existed at all. You couldn’t even hold their bodies one last time, or give them a proper farewell. They were just… gone. Oh, how you wished you could have at least been there in their last moments, to provide some comfort, some love, some sense of peace. The more you thought about it, the countless memories with them flowing through your mind, the weaker your violently shaking body became as you struggled to hold yourself up. Dottore instantly noticed and, worrying about your frail condition, walked up to you before you spat out at him.

“Do not come near me.” Out of all the centuries Zandik has spent with you, he has never been on the receiving end of much anger from you. Rather, it was you who dealt with that from him. But this wasn’t just anger. It felt like venom.

“Why…” You pulled yourself up once again before glaring at him with teary eyes. “Why didn’t you stop him, Zandik? You could have, couldn’t you? They didn’t have to die…!”

There was only one answer the Harbinger could provide, even though he knew you would not like it. “It was necessary to obtain the Electro and Dendro Gnoses for the Fatui.” To this, you could only laugh again once more before digging your nails into your palms so hard it hurt.

“I see. I see…” You mumbled brokenly before stepping off to the side, your steps still unsteady and wobbly as you nearly tripped. Dottore once again tensed up, body wanting to move to support you, but the look on your face made him decide against it. You then walked past him, not sparing another look at him before exiting the corridor, tears still silently running down your face. He could only watch you as you left him standing, wondering about many things yet nothing at all.

—

“From that day, there was a drastic shift in the butterfly and raven’s relationship. The butterfly was indescribably hurt by the loss of the other ravens, and could not bear the pain. It was the first time the raven had ever been subjected to such cold treatment by his lover. Usually, it was the other way around. And it seemed like fixing this would not be easy.”

Dottore thought that if he gave you some space, you’d cool off soon enough.

He thought wrong.

You had flat-out been ignoring Dottore since the day the segments were erased. And not just refusing to talk to him. You didn’t even want to be in the same space as him. If he came into your room, you would just leave. As soon as he opened his mouth, you were gone. In order to give you your meds, he had to wait until you were sleeping to slip in, because of the way you were acting. When it was time to eat, he had to leave the meal outside your door, otherwise, you wouldn’t eat. That is if you even took it. The grief made it hard for you to do a lot of things, which made it imperative for him to help, but you didn’t want it. You were distraught, but you were angry too. Why? 

Because you truly loved the segments.

Dottore did not. He did not feel the same connection as you did. So he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do to resolve this. Apologize? No, he suspected even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything, because you’d know he didn’t fully mean it, and it wouldn’t bring the segments back anyway. Comfort you? You wouldn’t allow him to hold you or talk to you. Il Dottore did not know what should be done.

Omega received similar treatment when finally returned from Sumeru, the Gnoses in hand. Normally, you would be waiting at the entrance whenever he returned from expeditions. This time, however, you were not, which he supposed he should have expected. You didn’t want his stories. His gifts. No, all you needed to know was that he deleted the segments. They were gone because of him, and you didn’t want to see him right now.

Omega was not a human. He was a segment. Though, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel emotions. He did - when it came to you. But Omega was a selfish segment. Selfish when it came to a lot of things, you included. And selfishness and emotions do not bode very well, as it becomes… a convoluted mixture.

The segment thinks of himself as a patient man. He knows how to wait, and wait, and wait until it pays off. He can do that for you, too. Wait for you to come back to your senses. After all, they were just segments, right? And the superior one, the best one of them all was still here - him. So surely you won’t be like this for too long.

Just like his creator, he was proven wrong. He learned the depth of your anger a day he tried reaching out to you, wanting to put this whole situation behind. But you certainly didn’t share the same sentiment. It was like any other day, him talking to you and you walking away, but this time he reached out for you. The segment unconsciously longed for your touch, your affection, that was once so commonplace.

But as soon as you felt his fingers brush yours, you slapped Omega’s hand away with a scowl. You didn’t need to say anything. That one action spoke everything you wanted to.

You would never view him the same ever again.

—

“And so the butterfly found themselves drowning and suffocating in grief. Their whole life had been changed, the creatures who helped them through so much were now gone. But that would not be the last of the butterfly’s sorrow.”

You had been giving the cold shoulder to Zandik and Omega for a long time. Considering how clingy and affectionate you were before, they didn’t even know you had it in you. But now, it was as different as night and day. However, it wasn’t as much as it was before, because you still had to rely on them in order to live. Despite how much you didn’t want to, without them, you’d be dead. They were the ones who had to administer your medicine and give you check-ups so your condition wouldn’t get worse (although it already happened after the segments were deleted.) It was funny how easily progress could be reversed. How one thing, one random day, could change everything.

So eventually you had to let them in a bit. Most of the time you just ignored them and rarely spoke. Even during the checkups and shots, you had your head turned the other way the whole time. They would still attempt to talk to you, in hopes you would even grace them with a “yes” or “no” rather than the rare nod of your head. But it wasn’t very fruitful. 

Another habit of yours now was that if you weren’t in your room, you were most likely in a segment’s room crying. Especially Zandy’s. Clutching his plushies. Or maybe Alpha’s. Trying to fix up the parts he left lying on his desk. Or Beta’s. Going into his closet to wear his coat. Dottore knew better than to clean out their rooms because you would most likely snap at him again.

You didn’t have much energy to do anything else but lay in your room, blankly staring at the ceiling all day, your head a foggy, grief-filled mess. It did not feel good… you hated the feeling… but what else should you do…? You just wished you could feel the warmth of your segments… the seemingly annoyed but secretly delighted posture of Alpha as you held him from behind. The bitey nature of Beta that didn’t let you go once you were in his clutches. The small, clingy body of Zandy as he cuddled into your body, sweet dreams blessing him instead of the nightmares. But you could only dream about those things now.

Even the regular Fatui agents had noticed this development. The lovey-dovey nature of Il Dottore’s spouse was now reduced to this. You heard them speak about it.

“Have you noticed? Lord Dottore has been far more irritable lately.”

“Oh yeah, both Omega and Prime! I feel bad for those who have to work directly with them…. At least my job is just standing at this door all day.”

“I know. They always were terrifying, but it seems even worse now. Ugh, and now there’s even more work for us since all the segments are gone.”

“Do you know why? Has Lord Pantalone decreased his budget again?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of obvious…” The agent lowered his voice to a whisper. “His spouse, [Name], has been giving them the silent treatment for ages now. Don’t tell anyone this but, I believe that our great Harbinger, Lord Il Dottore… is feeling the effects of this. I’ve never seen them act like this!”

“Is that so? Speaking of, I don’t think I’ve seen them around here very much.”

“Well yes… if you were here for as long as I have been, you’d normally see them all over the lab but, they tend to stay locked up in their room nowadays. And Lord Dottore as well, he doesn’t leave his office much either. Omega seems to take care of much of the outward responsibilities.”

So that was what it was like. You got your answer to if Dottore missed you. You wondered how many people accidentally became his test subjects due to his rising temper because of you. But though it may not have looked like it, not speaking to your husband was hurting you tremendously as well. Because at the end of the day… he was your love, your life. He was your Zandik, the one who meant everything to you. The one who went through everything and anything with you. He was the only one you had… you still loved him, terribly so. Maybe that was a bigger weakness than your illness.

But that didn’t mean you were any less mad at him.

Omega, on the other hand… ah, you didn’t even know what to think anymore… you were so conflicted, it was so hard to even think… when you said you loved all the segments, that included him too. But he deleted all of them… you hated him… but did you love him too? No, you should continue to hate him, he was the selfish one… Zandy was gone because of him… you couldn’t forgive him! So you didn’t forgive him. The days continued the same as always. 

Until one fateful day.

Omega was set to head out on a mission. Which was quite unusual nowadays, because ever since the clones were deleted, he couldn’t afford to leave Snezhnaya with all the work that had to be done. All you had heard was that the blonde-haired traveler would be there too, from all the whispering around the lab.

But what did it matter to you? Whether the segment was here or not, it was the same to you. His whereabouts were surely not of concern to you, so you had no feelings on this. Though the night before he was set to leave, he knocked on your door anyway. You immediately pulled the blankets over your face and curled to the side of the bed so you wouldn’t see Omega. The door shut with a click and his boots sounded against the floor.

“Hello, [Name]. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I am leaving soon. It is another critical mission for the Fatui, and I suspect the Traveler will be there once again.” He didn’t receive a response from you, which he expected. “But I’m sure this is of no interest to you, anyway.” He guessed right, you thought, you didn’t care. However, even after saying what he had to say, he did not leave. A silence overtook the room as neither of you moved or spoke. But then Omega called your name, with another short silence coming after it before he spoke once more.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness, because I know I will not receive it, nor will I apologize, because I believe I took the right course of action. But…” Omega paused, “I still hold you fondly. I still…” He reached his hand out to your covered body but drew it back before his fingertips could brush you.

“I hope we will be able to talk more once I return.” He seemed to wait a few more seconds, perhaps hoping you would stay something, hoping he could at least see your face before he left, but to no avail. All you heard was the retreating footsteps and the click of your door shutting once more. You pulled the blankets off so you could breathe properly again, as you thought about his words.

What should you do? You didn’t know. The segments had passed quite a while ago, and the pain was still fresh in your heart, but Omega… ugh… perhaps, maybe, just maybe, you could try talking to him once more. Only an attempt. If you didn’t like how it felt, you’d stop. And he wasn’t returning from the mission for a few months, so you had ample time to make your decision anyway.

But Omega never returned.

The next few months flew by quickly, and though Omega had not returned yet, you thought nothing of it. Something must have come up that delayed his return. It’s happened before, it probably happened again. That was until you noticed groups of Fatui huddled together murmuring in the lab. As soon as they saw you, they went back to work and shut up their little gossip quickly, which was very strange. Now you really needed to know what was going on, so you decided to silently eavesdrop on the next pair you found. But you would have never thought of the words you heard next.

Omega had been killed by the Traveler. 

Omega was dead.

Omega wasn’t coming back.

You would never see him ever again. The realization made your body weak as you stumbled back, having to cling to the wall for support. He was gone… the tears immediately sprang to your eyes, as you covered your mouth to keep your sobs down. Omega killed the other segments. Maybe a part of you should feel glad. But no, all you felt was red-hot grief and pain, as you crashed into the nearest random room, and cried, and cried, and cried.

If you knew that was the last time you would see him, you wouldn’t have acted like that…

You wonder why things had to turn out like this.

—

“The butterfly never truly recovered from their loss, but as they say, time heals all wounds.”

After Omega died, you didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore. You were just tired. Tired of everything. Everything felt like a chore. Though you saw your husband more often now. Since there were no more segments, and Dottore obviously wouldn’t trust even the best Fatui doctors with you, he was the one who did all the usual medical stuff for you now.

Admittedly, his touch felt nice. It felt good. It felt like exactly what you needed right now. Comfort. So you gave in. When he had finished the usual procedure, as he turned his back on you, you reached out and wouldn’t let go of his hand. Dottore stiffened from the contact - it had been a while since you’d touched him so intimately - but you didn’t let go, and only weakly tugged him closer, which he complied to. You couldn’t bring your eyes to meet his, instead blankly staring at his shoes, but he seemed to get the message anyway. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you to gauge your reaction, and when he saw no resistance, he pulled you into his chest and held you. You missed this feeling. You missed Zandik.

And maybe you were scared he would leave you too.

Things continued like that for a while. You’d seek your husband out for his touch. His presence. His voice. Anything that would bring you some peace. Though you still remained mostly silent during these times. You just didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wondered if he was mad at you. Annoyed. Disappointed. You didn’t want to know though. You were content with the fact that Zandik would hold you in his lap even at the wildest hours of the night.

But now, it had been some time since Omega’s death and even longer since the other segments were erased.

You weren’t quite ready to move on, no, not yet, but it was inevitable. Or perhaps you would never truly move on, instead, they would always be a part of you. You’d always carry them with you. But regardless, you needed to try, at least for Zandy. You think he’d want you to try and smile more often. You were speaking a bit more to your Harbinger friends again, and finding some enjoyment in your hobbies. Not to mention your relationship with Zandik was becoming better again. He had still been there, even when your illness and grief had you at your worst, with no complaints. Even though he had nothing to gain from this relationship. Even though you had become someone different. He had always loved you.

But there was still a rift caused by everything that had happened, that you wanted to fix. Because at the end of the day, in this world, you two only had each other. So you decided to talk to him about it. You had a habit of this, just waltzing into his office without knocking, and came upon Dottore who had a small box in his hand, appearing to gaze at whatever was in it, before he quickly snapped it shut at your sudden arrival. You recognized that box. It was the one where he kept his wedding ring in. So he still had it like that after all these years. You pretended like you didn’t see it as he swiftly put it away.

“[Name].”

“Zandik. Are you busy right now?”

“No.” Both of you knew that was a lie. The Second Harbinger was always busy. You knew for a fact he was stretched thin, especially since he wasted so much time taking care of you along with his Fatui duties, which piled up quickly with no more segments.

“Alright… can we talk?”

“Of course.” Zandik had been especially attentive to your words lately. Perhaps because he missed the times you would talk his ear off.

“I want to make something clear.” Zandik looked at you curiously as you took a deep breath. Many possibilities raced through his head.

“I still love you, Zandik.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that, and you could tell, even though his expression did not betray his thoughts.

“You already know the reason I’m…” Your voice trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud, but you continued. “But I… appreciate you for staying by me. For all these centuries, through everything. It’s been a… very long time. And although things are different now, I want us to be… happy again. It might not be immediately but… it’s because I love you, Zandik.” You swallowed, at the end, your voice growing a bit softer. Ah, you hoped that wasn’t too sentimental. Zandik’s expression was blank so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“So yeah, that’s all… I guess.” All of a sudden, the silence that followed made you embarrassed, and you wanted to leave there as quickly as possible. “Okay, I-I’ll let you do your work now.” And then you hastily made your exit and left the Harbinger alone, before he started chuckling to himself. He’d expect nothing less from you, his dear, darling spouse.

Though he wonders if you realize time is irrelevant for him. He’ll wait for you as long as it takes.

—

“One thing about the raven and the butterfly that would never change was that they were wholly intertwined with each other. Their fates were one. So even if they happened to go their separate ways, they would inevitably return to one another again.”

It was actually quite scary how fast time flew. From the time you woke up, to marrying Dottore, to the segments passing, to right now… it felt like a blur. You guess, now that your life span was no longer that of a regular human’s, time was starting to skew a bit for you. Well, you were just excited to spend decades more, even centuries with him.

Throughout all the years that had passed since that day, you found yourself falling more and more in love with Zandik again. You suppose that should be normal for a married couple but, it never ceased to amaze you how one man could make you feel like this.

Something that had become somewhat of a habit for the two of you was dancing. Yes, dancing. It had come up during one of your wedding anniversaries. To be honest, neither of you really did or planned anything special for the day. Perhaps there was a bit more kissing along with other affectionate activities, but you two didn’t look at it as something that big. First, because you didn’t want to waste his already precious time, but also because you knew from the beginning the wedding anniversaries would be countless. So every anniversary was more of something you expected, so it was nothing too big to celebrate, especially as people who lived this long… if that made sense. And Dottore… was Dottore after all. Never one to care much for dates.

But on one anniversary you were reminded of how you two danced during the wedding. Your clumsy steps as Dottore guided you through it all, and you wanted to relive that, so he indulged you. And funnily enough, you were a lot better! Your steps weren’t as unsteady and your body didn’t ache as much. Dottore’s feet didn’t get assaulted by yours too much. Even Dottore was pleasantly surprised. It probably had to do with the fact that although you weren’t cured yet, your health had been up on an upward curve. Of course, never the best but, much better than you first were. You were proud of yourself for making it this far.

So now, when you had time, you found yourself rehearsing your steps with him and your husband twirling you around. Perhaps one day you could reach his level.

You found that there were days that reminded you of the Akademiya. Where you could help him with his notes and research like a real assistant would. Obviously, it still wasn’t the best but it was something, and you could see that Dottore liked it. These days often came with you teasing him with embarrassing memories from the Akademiya.

“I still remember when you got motion sickness from piloting that ruin golem, Zandik.”

“For the last time, I did not get motion sickness, [Name].”

“Mhm, sure. If I didn’t drag you out, you would have-”

“That is enough from you.”

You found that there were more days he would take you out into the Snezhnayan winters (you were bundled up to the max) so you could finally see the snow. You found yourself attending your first balls at the Tsaritsa’s palace, as Dottore was now forced to attend himself rather than his segments. He didn’t want to leave you by yourself in the dreary lab so… you were often his plus one, where you spent the evening poking fun at him with Columbina. (You also were the one who publicly took sweets to-go from the parties for him so he wouldn’t get judged.)

And perhaps your favorite memory was when he took you back to Sumeru - yes, to another country - so you could witness the Akademiya Extravaganza festival. He, of course, had no interest in it, but you being you and loving fun things absolutely did. Many things happened, including meeting the Traveler… but that story was for another day.

All in all, you always knew this but, you found that no matter how many years passed, no matter what Il Dottore has done, no matter the amount of sins and wrongfulness he has committed… you were hopelessly in love with him. From the time he was that perpetually irritated but in love student from the Akademiya to his current self, the Harbinger that was a stark contrast to his former self but still possessed you for himself.

Sure, it was a bit lonely at times compared to before, but all the tender moments throughout the years made you happy to have Zandik in your life. Which is why you foolishly thought these times would last forever.

When Dottore told you he was leaving Snezhnaya, and therefore the lab, and therefore you, it jolted you right up from your sleepy daze on his lap.

“What?!” The word came out as a half yell, half-whisper. “What do you mean you’re leaving Snezhnaya?”

“It means I’m leaving Snezhnaya, dear,” he continued on his paperwork (which never seemed to end) as if this was common knowledge. “The mission needs a Harbinger to oversee it, and the task falls to me this time.” 

You were devastated. There were times when Dottore only had to leave the lab for a few days to attend to matters in different parts of Snezhnaya. (You spent the time at Columbina’s mansion because oddly enough, she always seemed to be there… how did she manage to shirk her duties so often?) But this was completely different. He would be so far out of reach, for a long time probably too. Foreign missions always took a while. You remember how long you had to wait for the segments to return from them.

“Okay, then I’ll come with you!”

“No, you’re not,” he immediately shut down your proposition. “Missions are still far too dangerous with your current state. You will stay in Snezhnaya, and wait for me to come back.” You knew when he used that tone, things were final, and you hung your head low, all sleepiness gone at the fact you wouldn’t be seeing him for months. Sure, you would be staying with Bina as usual but, you had a feeling it’d be hard to replace the rush of emotions Dottore gave you on a daily basis. 

Dottore noticed your dour expression, which he obviously expected, and sighed, setting down his pen. At this point, it was a sort of routine that he had memorized, comforting you and all. Although comfort would never be something he was adept in, years of doing it had let him become somewhat proficient. 

“[Name],” he moved his hand to guide your chin up so you could look at him. You were pouting. “These few months, or even less, depending on how quickly the work gets done, will only be a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I’ll be back before you know it,” he hummed. Although he certainly was not pleased about leaving you by yourself for so long, such was the life of a Fatui Harbinger. It was at times like these he missed his segments. (Did that sound selfish? Well, he was a selfish man when it came to you.)

A drop in eternity, huh? Well, when he puts it like that, then maybe it would be just a bit bearable. And, when you think about it, he’s waited over four hundred years for you, all alone. So this little challenge couldn’t be too hard, right?

“Alright… I’ll wait for you, Zandik.”

“Good,” he chuckled at how easy it was to win you over sometimes and stroked your cheek. “In the meantime, you can work on the recipe you’ve been vehemently hiding from me and show me when I’m back.” You immediately brightened at that.

“Oh yeah! I promise you’re going to like these sweets better than the ones at the bakery!” You proudly declared.

“Oh? Now that’s a high standard you’ve set yourself to, dear. Are you sure you’re going to be able to live up to it?”

“Hmph, don’t underestimate me. My baking skills have improved over the years!”

The banter always made you two feel like regular humans, despite what you two really were.

—

“The days went by peacefully for the lonely butterfly, but soon that feeling was shattered when they learned of a golden comet’s presence near their raven.”

The days in Columbina’s mansion went by rather uneventfully. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t home as often as usual. It seemed like the Fatui were really stepping up their business now. You’d have to ask Dottore about that. Maybe the day Celestia is defeated was closer than you thought. But today was a day Bina had some time to indulge in cakes and conversation with you. The chit-chat was mundane but brought a sense of comfort until the conversation somehow ended up with Dottore as the topic. Your friend always liked teasing you about him. Everything was lighthearted and sweet until she idly mentioned his mission.

“I wonder how your Doctor is doing on the mission~”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Dottore after all.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I do wonder how he plans to deal with the Traveler though.” The mention of the blonde’s name nearly made you drop your teacup.

“W-What?” Your voice cracked as you implored your friend to tell you more. You were now realizing that you neglected to ask Dottore what the mission exactly was, and he did not reveal the contents as well, probably because he knew you’d freak even more if you knew he was most likely going to confront the Traveler. Columbina looked confused.

“Dear, did he not tell you?”

“No! I- ah, he only told me he has a mission in another nation, I guess it slipped my mind to ask him the details!” You now had your hand clutched to your head and another one trying to soothe your now rapidly beating heart. A naive and very stupid part of you thought it wouldn’t have to come to this, but it already did, so quickly too. 

Why were you so particularly scared? It was because all you could think of was Omega’s death by the Traveler’s hand, as well as your fellow colleagues. You knew that Dottore was far stronger than any of them but… you were in a panic. All the worst possible scenarios began invading your mind relentlessly.

“[Name], calm down. Dottore is strong. We do not even know if it will end in a battle or not, but regardless of the outcome, he is smart enough to-” Bina attempted to comfort you before you interrupted her and abruptly stood up.

“I need to go.”

“Go? Go to Dottore, dear?”

“Yes. Yes, I need to see him. I need-” Your words were becoming a jumbled mess from the anxiety this piece of news caused. “I need to see him in person if he’s okay.”

“You do not think you should think about this some more? I suspect the Doctor will not be happy if he sees you there, even if it’s you of all people.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I stay here, all I’ll be able to think about is him.” You could already see yourself losing sleep and appetite over this. “But as long as I can see him okay… even if he’s angry, I can deal with it. Anything is better than being over here helpless!” Columbina watched you silently.

“Alright. Be ready in a few days.” You looked at her in surprise.

“Bina? You’re helping me? You’re not going to… stop me?”

“Dear [Name], I will not get in the way of a decision you’ve made for yourself. If this is what you’ve decided, then it is my duty as your friend to assist you as I’ve done in the past. And perhaps this will teach the Doctor a lesson to stop withholding information from you,” the Harbinger sighed.

“…Thank you, Columbina.” You’d have to repay her sometime later.

—

“The raven and the butterfly found themselves reunited again at long last, and would stay together like that forever.”

It was funny you found yourself back here, your home country. It seems like you two were always drawn back here, despite no longer being welcomed. But that didn’t really matter too much, because as soon as the boat you were on pulled into the port, it was clear that today was not a normal day in Sumeru City.

You were too late. 

The fight had clearly already begun, probably only recently too, by the chaotic state of Sumeru. Obviously, it’d be out of order if there were two immensely powerful beings in battle with each other. Maybe, if you were just a bit sooner… but you already had your mind set. Although the Fatui agent entrusted with your safety was ready to head back already, his orders to not let you come to any danger, you just tranquilized him. (It was a courtesy device from Dottore in case he wasn’t near.)

And you ran. Was that a good idea considering your illness? Absolutely not, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Was it a good idea to walk into the middle of a battle? Also no, but you couldn’t shake the bad feeling you had this whole time. 

Although it was far away, it was easy to spot the place, as for one there were Fatui swarming the area and also regular citizens running in the opposite direction. Though your lungs were absolutely burning, your knees weak and scraped from tripping, tired from bumping into others, illness flaring up even worse from the added stress and exertion, you continued ahead with only one goal. To see your husband.

Throughout your haggard walking, you thought of the future. You thought of how great it would be to see Teyvat change in the next four hundred years just as he did. And this time, Dottore would not have to witness it by himself. He would have you. It would be amazing, just thinking of all the variety of new inventions and such that would be created! You two would surely dissect them and put them back together for fun. You two would do a lot of things, you think, as you finally made it to the door of the grand building the fight was in. It was already rather damaged, but the door managed to remain mostly intact, so you pushed it open.

Just in time to see the Traveler land the final fatal hit to Zandik, his body landing on the floor with a painful thud.

Your worst nightmare had become reality. But… Zandik told you he’d return to you in no time…

Suddenly, all the will you had before was gone in an instant. You didn’t have the energy or focus to call out his name. All you could do was blankly stare at his defeated body while taking some hesitant steps forward, all while mumbling something incoherent under your breath. The Traveler, despite their exhaustion, noticed you and immediately readied their sword again. But, they soon realized that there was no need for that from the exceedingly dull look in your eyes and the way you tripped over yourself again, landing on the floor, reaching out your hand towards the Doctor. You had to make it to him.

You pathetically dragged your body closer to Zandik, every part of it screaming out in part for you to stop. But you didn’t care. You could take it. After all, you knew the pain would soon be over. The Traveler merely watched you, still a bit on edge for what you could do, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything besides Zandik, so you continued inching your body to your husband before you finally reached him. His body was practically motionless, his face revealed as his mask was destroyed to the side somewhere. When you came into view, a flicker of surprise came across his face but it quickly morphed into one of acceptance.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You half-laughed at that.

“I could say the same to you…” Your voice had dropped to a soft, defeated one. Huffing and panting, you used your last remaining strength to pull yourself up and kneel, tenderly bringing your husband’s head onto your lap. He did not resist. It wasn’t like he had the strength to anyway. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here, either.”

“It was not necessary… at the time,” Zandik said, looking right at you the whole time with those red eyes of his. “But I suppose I should have expected this. You never do as you are told, do you?”

“Of course not. But you should remember that whenever I break the rules, things turn out fine for us.” You smiled, and you had a feeling both of you were thinking of the same memories. That time you helped him break into the Akademiya’s library when it was closed, or the time you threw a book at someone for him, or the time you two helped each other on what was supposed to be solo assignments. Or the times you ran away from his needles and medicine, or the times you went behind his back and befriended the others. Those times ended out okay, so this time would be okay too.

Then, the building began to rumble, most likely about to collapse. The battle must have been quite fierce. Although the Traveler felt no remorse for the two of you, their kind heart still couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of pity. After all, the blonde had read the notes the two of you left scattered around Sumeru. To think that a relationship could last so long, especially one with the mad Doctor… You noticed their expression before you rasped out a mixture of a plea and demand.

“Why are you still here? Leave us now. I want to be alone with him.” Your words were empty of emotion towards them. There was no point in any hostility anymore, not when you had to treasure the last moments with your beloved. The Traveler didn’t seem surprised by your words, as they nodded and threw the bloodied Harbinger one last glance, before running away with the little fairy. It seemed they knew… you’d rather die here along with him than live without him.

You looked back at Zandik’s face, his once brightly colored red eyes now a darkened hue.

“I’ve failed you, [Name].” Since it was the end of the line now, even a genius scholar such as him had to admit defeat. Dottore thought back to all the times he swore to cure you. He swore he would do it so that you could be who you used to be once more. But he failed. He let you lose centuries of your life and left you in pain for your conscious ones. But you didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

“Failed me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the tears that began to run down your cheeks. “Oh darling, you have never failed me. Not once in over four hundred years.” Zandik continued to stare at you because that was all the strength he had to do, so you reached for his hand and brought it to your cheek.

“You’ve loved me continuously for so many centuries, haven’t you? How could that ever be a failure?” You nuzzled into his hand, his own blood beginning to smear on your face, but you didn’t care. 

“Your love has changed so much over time. From your prickly and thorny yet beautiful love from the Akademiya. To your smooth and unabashed love now. But your love was unfaltering, to me at least. Perhaps I may be delusional, and I overthink how much you love me. But I think it was real, even though you may never admit it, that is what matters to me. So if you’re thinking about the cure, forget it.” Your hands were shaking and struggling to hold his to your cheek for this long, energy spent, but you continued anyway, even as a piece of the infrastructure suddenly caved in and collapsed on the opposite side of the room with a loud crash. “The cure isn’t what mattered. It was you.”

Zandik thinks you are the only person who has forgiven him. Not even he has. He knows he does not deserve it, but he shouldn’t say that to you now. But he thinks, even at this moment, perhaps it may seem sick or morbid, your beauty still manages to surpass that of any other being in Teyvat.

You thought about the Tsaritsa, who had shown you much love and kindness. You hoped she would finally achieve her goals. You thought about the other Harbingers, the ones who were still alive at least. You would miss them. You looked at your wedding ring. It was still intact. How lovely. Lastly, you thought about Zandik as you looked at him, and he seemed to realize something.

“[Name], reach into my pocket.” You were confused but you complied, wincing in pain a bit but successfully reached it and pulled out a box. It was the box he kept his wedding wing in. Popping it open, you were correct, and still couldn’t help but be a bit incredulous.

“You brought it with you?” You were surprised because a part of you still believed he thought the whole thing was a bit dumb.

“I normally do not but, with the length of the mission, I believed it would be a simple and easy way to be reminded of you.” That was cute.

“Sorry. I guess the good luck charm didn’t work,” you smiled apologetically as you slipped the band onto his finger, to which Zandik scoffed.

“You know very well I do not believe in luck.” You only laughed, though it was mostly drowned out by multiple crashes and rocks falling all around you. Being buried was a fitting end, to be honest. No one else needed to know about the two of you. No one else needed to know your stories. It would be best if the two of you ended up forgotten, lost to time. Then, no one would be able to misunderstand or twist your relationship.

Despite all of the pains that had befallen you, the suffering and hardships, you could happily say you lived a good life. You were happy, so happy, thanks to Zandik. Zandik was what made this life worth living… so this was okay. You would have loved to have been cured and lived out many more happy memories with him but… this was alright. But the time was limited, so this conversation needed to be wrapped up in a way that would satisfy you.

“I love you, Zandik.” You don’t expect any response back because of your husband’s poor track record with saying those words. 

The times Zandik has said the words ‘I love you’ have admittedly been scarce and in-between despite the centuries he’s spent with you. It was a grand total of… two times. And both had been said when he thought you were sleeping. 

The first time had been in the Akademiya. It had been a while since you two were a couple, and he had yet to say it. You expected that obviously. But one random night, when you two were cuddling and drifting off into dreamland, you heard the three words mumbled into the crook of your neck. It took everything in you not to react.

The second time had been when you had recently woken up from your coma. Dottore was around you constantly, taking so many tests that it made your head spin, and you had to take naps more often than not. And once again, as you were just about to slip off into slumber, you heard the three words whispered as he gently bit your ear.

Surprisingly enough, the third time would be now. Perhaps because he had nothing to lose anymore, as it was the end.

“I love you as well, [Name].” Your eyes go wide for a few seconds before you grin widely one last time, and you give him a look that says ‘I know.’ Zandik watched your eyes flutter shut as you leaned down to his face, and he let himself be enveloped in your final kiss, neither of you paying attention to the shadows cast by the multitude of broken architecture about to fall on top of you.

Let the fairy tale come to a close.

—

“In his last moments, the raven was taken back to a memory from centuries ago. It was a memory where he was truly happy with his lovely sparrow.”

Zandik awoke to a blue sky and a gentle breeze. He blinked, immediately trying to gauge where he was. But then the sound of a familiar voice flooded his senses.

“And you know what this professor had the audacity to say to me, Zandik? ‘Figure it out!’ Like, you’re supposed to be helping me, not writing me off! You’re getting paid for this!” You were lying down on the grass next to him, hands folded as you huffed. “At least I have you, Zandik. Way better than any damn professor.” He blinks at you. 

Zandik remembers this moment. It was the day when exams and classes were finally over, and you wanted to relax before helping him with his experiments. And you also thought it was the perfect time to rant about all the professors you had to deal with over the last few months. But soon, you just started bringing up random things that occurred over the term. Zandik couldn’t remember the last time he saw you like this. Donning the Akademiya uniform, so happy and carefree… healthy, strong, like nothing in the world bothered you.

He found himself slightly smiling at how stupidly happy you looked, before reaching out to you. But as soon as merely his fingernails came into contact with you, you began to dissolve right in front of his eyes. Immediately, he stiffened and sat up, again trying to take hold of you but you were no longer there. Zandik’s hands began to shake, and that’s when he realized his surroundings were changing.

The blue sky was now fading away, becoming pitch black along with everything else that was chipping away, ready to swallow him whole into the darkness.

Ah, he understood now.

This was the end.

—

“Finally, the twisted raven met his fate.”

Or so he thought. Zandik woke up once more. Everything seemed normal at first, the blue sky was once again there and the Sumerian breeze caressed his hair. Until he realized there was a sticky substance coated all over his hands.

Blood.

This wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence for him, after all, he would usually get hands-on with his experiments, but he had an… odd feeling about this. Zandik blinked and all of a sudden, there you were lying on the ground in front of him.

Dead. Coated with blood.

Did he… kill you?

All too quickly, before he could reach out to hold your body or begin to process what happened, he was suddenly somewhere else. The desert.

Zandik laid eyes upon you. What he would usually see was you complaining about the heat while you dug through the ruins. What he saw instead was an Eremite plunging a sword through you.

And again. This time he awoke to you being completely cold and limp in his arms. And again. It didn’t take his brain long for him to understand what was happening.

His victims and test subjects could torture him for eternity, yet Dottore would not feel bothered or a shred of remorse. It would be a useless endeavor. But this? This was the perfect punishment. 

His beloved being killed in front of him, by the world, by other people, by natural forces, by his own hands. And for all of the power and knowledge he once had, he was powerless to do anything yet again.

… How ironic, Zandik thought.

—

At last, the tiny Archon closed the storybook.

It had been ages since the events in this tale had taken place. The Fatui were no more, Celestia was gone, the Traveler had long left this world, and Teyvat was at peace. So much time, that the Outcast’s name no longer floated around the Akademiya, now long forgotten. The God of Wisdom herself had gained a tremendous amount of knowledge from all the years that had flown by. And even still, she has not forgotten this story.

Yet, in all of her wisdom, she still cannot hope to fully understand the raven and the sparrow. The Dendro Archon found herself coming back to this tale, trying to comprehend their actions and thoughts. She reads it aloud to herself, draws pictures, and crafts the tale with her own words, yet it only leaves her more lost. Perhaps one day she will understand. But perhaps she won’t. Perhaps no one ever will.

After all, there were only two people who would ever truly understand the bond between the raven and the sparrow. 

Zandik and [Name]. 

An unfriendly and cold scholar and a sweet and caring one.

An immoral villain and an accomplice.

A violator of this world’s laws and a supporter.

A Harbinger and an assistant.

Regardless of those titles, perhaps at the end of the day, they only saw themselves as one thing to each other.

Two people who loved each other as if nothing else mattered.

[jymwahuwu]

tis i! wingweaver anon again back from the livestream with a vengeance XD.

https://honkai-star-rail.fandom.com/wiki/Transcript_of_Ten-Lords_Commission_Interrogation_With_the_Wingweaver_Xili

but i found this transcript and i realized that some wingweavers have come under the watch of the luofu. imagine a wingweaver reader from xili's clan being left behind on this strange ship. maybe you'd known xili as well, something of a mother to you perhaps, or a rather stern aunt.

even so, you are a proud little thing with your own biases and you are not fond of the xianzhou at all. but you're not one who specializes in any combat or military genius ( perhaps you are a labourer or servant class? ) so you cannot stir up trouble or run your mouth. you can no longer fly either because of the strict watch placed upon you and your clansmen, and you must content yourself with working odd jobs for a living with people who dislike you in equal measure.

but then there is a strange white haired man who comes and meets you sometimes. he likes pulling on your wings and feeding into your curious mind with stories and yummy food. and you can't say you're not impressed by him, xianzhou native or not. maybe at some point you slowly shed away that anger because it's so exhausting.

jing yuan had grown to have his own guilty pleasures, with your company exclusive to him and no one else. you're bright eyes, a little snarky, a little witty and you're such an adorable little birdie to him. surely he's allowed to be selfish, yes? and seeing you soften up and let him hold you, press soft kisses down your neck, he has an air of smug satisfaction.

but now you're trying to be civil with other people? he can't help but feel that bite of possessiveness. perhaps you've been a bit too brave in that regard, a bad little bird who has wandered too close to the bars of her cage.

he coaxes you to his home, to the coziness of his room when he finds out you're slowly going into heat. there were clear orders given to you and your clan that you were not allowed to proliferate...but really now, that was with each other, yes? you should be fine with him? and your mind and instincts do see jing yuan as a good mate. he is strong and he's proven a good companion, so you're more than happy to present yourself to him.

jing yuan does not stop till every bit of you if full with his seed. you'll bear his children soon enough and he's giddy at the thought, keeping you locked up for him to fuss, spoil and fuck. you could try to run but you learn rather quick that he's terribly good at finding you.

soon enough you do slowly give up a little and have him touch you all over, on your belly and breasts, cooing. he's so soft and kind to you and he keeps this nest you've made nice and warm. maybe you did belong here in the end, just for him. so you stay, with his ribbon tied round your neck like a pretty collar.

Thank you wingweaver anon, I absolutely love this series!! This sounds so cute <3<3

tw: dub-con/non-con, forced breeding, bird's estrus, harassment

As you were working part-time and waving your wings, attracting curious attention from the people of Xianzhou, Jing Yuan was also attracted. He's always loved furry and adorable things - kittens, puppies, birds - and now, you, with wings and feathers falling to the ground? Real wings? His heart seemed to be tickled by your feathers. Maybe this is the cuteness attack. The general couldn't help but tug at your wings, which were softer than velvet.

You screamed softly, stepped back, and turned to look at him, your shy blood rushing to your ears and heating up. "Sir, please don't touch other people's wings at will!" Jing Yuan apologized casually, "I'm sorry, I'm just curious about your wings. Are you-" The words stopped. He realizes what planet you are from. You are an enemy being monitored by Xianzhou. A little bird in captivity. So he took time to come to your place of work almost every day. Stories, tips, sweet words. There's no point in getting angry at him, you feel like an ungrateful brat - considering he is Xianzhou's general and allows you guys limited freedom here.

Some occasional display of bird habits is also nice. It felt so good to him. Jing Yuan tentatively picked up some shiny necklaces and shook them in front of you, not missing your eyes lighting up (but then, you looked away and snorted).

Some Xianzhou people, as well as your kind, want to pursue you. You are so popular, you just didn’t notice it. Most people want birdie girls like you. Chirpy, smart, sharp and cute. Jing Yuan decided to take the initiative. He was convinced that given you a chance you would fly to a safe and comfortable nest. He can provide one. On the day when you were particularly grumpy and showing off your feathers, he slowly lured you into the general's palace. Under the influence of estrus (or do you just like him? You don't know.), you can't help but stare at his broad shoulders and chest, suspecting that those are so warm and sure to keep you safe and comfortable. He's huge, too.

There were soft chains on your hands, and you were being penetrated and creampied, the feathers then scattered on his bed. It was a bed specially purchased by Jing Yuan to simulate the space and environment of a nest. "…Jing Yuan-" With the high-speed and deep thrusting frequency, you tried to form words other than moaning. "Maybe-maybe that's enough? I-I'm going back to the nest-" His hands lifted both of your thighs up. And that giggle. The cock presses deeper against your cervix. "No, you're not pregnant yet."

"Pregnant?" You opened your mouth and widened your eyes, but your reproductive instinct inspired you, and you unconsciously wrapped your body tighter around his cock, milking him. He closed his eyes in enjoyment. You rolled your eyes, "mm ah-!"

"Yes. I'm going to be the father of the baby birds," he announced during the creampie.

[pastanest]

Eleventh Doctor x she/her!reader

AN: this is an ANGSTY one which is usually not the vibe for me but I got lost in this idea and completely fell in love with it so I really hope you like it!! this is the ost piece I was listening to while writing -

Set Things Right

With a sigh, the Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places his palms flat against the console of the Tardis. She wheezes halfheartedly, seeming to wince in pain.

“Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong?” The Time Lord pleads with her, desperate for any sign, any handy hint on what he can possibly do to help her. 

The two of them have been drifting aimlessly through deep space for a time that even a lord of such a thing has been unable to truly focus on. Hours, days, weeks - he doesn’t know, all of it has been lost to the worry over his oldest and truest companion. The one piece of home he has left. 

Closing his eyes tightly in a pained blink, the Doctor takes a deep breath in an attempt to tune himself into the Tardis further, to understand her, just enough to help. In focussing as hard as he possibly can, his subconscious grabs at the first sound it finds, no more than an unidentifiable flicker, but the Doctor hones his thoughts to the spark that the Tardis has sent him, whatever it may be. The very moment the sound becomes clear to him, though, the Doctor flinches away from the console, feeling a physical tear through his hearts and rubbing against his shirt to soothe the ache that resides there. Has resided there, and been ignored for another time that he dares not address.

“Don’t. Just…don’t, please. She’s….” The Doctor shakes his head, refusing to say the words as he falls against the railing, gripping it with one hand at his back while the other still holds his chest, as though shielding his hearts from another fatal blow. “She can’t help us, not anymore.”

And he feels it, the judgemental gaze of the Tardis on him at every angle, even in her weakened state. Loosening his bowtie to escape some of the pressure, the Doctor speeds from the control room, past a door that he knows was not previously so close to the main control room but he will not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it, past the swimming pool, and towards the library. There must be something in here, he thinks to himself, haphazardly throwing books from the shelves on which they previously sat and creating a disheveled pile in the center of the room behind him, hoping one of them may contain the secret to healing his sickly time machine.

Quite suddenly, the Tardis jolts to the right, sending the Doctor falling into the pile of books he had unintentionally used to form his own landing pad. Jumping back to his feet with a firm frown on his face, the Doctor straightens his shirt and huffs.

“Now, I know you aren’t very well, but there is no need-”

Interrupting him, the Tardis throws him back to the ground with another fierce jolt, and then she bursts to life in what the Doctor can only describe as a fit of rage. She is taking flight, furiously, to a destination of her own choosing, with no regard for the Time Lord that is crawling his way back to the main control room through corridors that she turns on their heads, walls that she shrinks and enlarges, floors that she shakes and cracks with the sheer force of her determination.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The Doctor shouts into the main control room, over her screeches, as glass panels splinter at his feet.

Flinging himself at the console, he grabs the monitor with both hands and tries to read the Gallifreyan text, the co-ordinates, anything, but she is flying too fast for his eyes to keep up with her train of thought as it blazes across the screen.

And with a final, deafening crash that sends the Doctor hurtling into the railing, the Tardis halts to a sudden stop. She wheezes again, but this time it almost sounds…relieved? As though wherever she has landed, it has brought her a sense of peace. This place can heal her wounds, the Doctor recognises her feelings towards it, and his ever curious mind is buzzing with excitement at the thought of such an incredible, new place. 

“Oh, where have you brought me this time, old girl?” Having already forgiven her for the bumpy ride, the ancient god is giddy, rubbing his hands together and retying his bowtie, grabbing his tweed jacket as he races for the door. 

He braces himself as he reaches for the wooden panel, hand trembling with excitement. With a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and steps out into the brand new world. Except it isn’t, and it is. 

The street is one he would recognise even if he had never set foot there, because he knows this planet almost as well as he had known his own. Earth, the planet to have given him the greatest friends and adventures he’d ever known. But this street is not one he has never set foot on. The Doctor is a man who cannot look back because he dares not, there are many streets on this planet that he avoids for fear of the pain he would revisit on seeing them again, in the absence of those he once knew occupied them. And this street is no different, except in that it is the most recent of the streets he never wanted to see again, and in the way that he has been forced to do exactly that. He wants to run and hide, more than anything, but he is frozen to the spot, because something isn’t right. The air tastes different, the gravity feels slightly askew, and he can’t tell what year it is amidst the emotional tidal wave of it all. As fundamentally wrong as all of those aspects are, the Doctor cannot deny that they point to one possibility amongst a million others, but that one - regardless of the agony - he cannot live with the regret of denying. 

And then he hears it again. The same sound he had heard when inside the Tardis, the sound she had told him would help her, and now again, in the place she has taken him to heal her. Time seems to slow as the Doctor turns to his left, his eyes immediately locking onto and blurring a perfect vision he never thought he would see again. You.

Laughing so hard you are throwing your head back, eyes crinkled and tears spilling at their creases, your mobile phone to your ear only mildly distorting the view of you. Completely oblivious to the big, sad eyes that watch over you, a trembling smile of pure anguish choking out a disbelieving laugh with you, though he has no idea what you are laughing at. 

Clutching at his chest and feeling the world around him beginning to spin, the Time Lord stumbles back through the doors of his time machine and falls to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden panels in an effort to lock himself away. 

For the briefest second, all he feels is pain. Wound after wound tearing through his very being, bleeding him dry and crushing him into dust. And then that second ends, and the oncoming storm rises to his feet, a darkened frown etched into his brow.

“Why.” He mutters, approaching the console. “Why. WHY!” He throws his arms in the air and slams them against either side of the monitor, watching as you disappear down the street and then shoving the monitor away from him. “WHY would you bring me here?! What kind of cruel trick is this?! How DARE you! How…could you? How could you take me back to a time when she was…when you know that I can’t…” 

The Doctor trails off, defeated, and collapses onto the jump seat with his head in his hands.

Sensing his anguish, the Tardis groans at him, exasperated by the way in which he continues to miss the obvious. Sending the monitor flying back over to the side of the console that the Doctor is facing, the Tardis displays the exact time and date beyond her doors and waits. It takes the solemn, lonely man several seconds to lift his sorrowful gaze from his hands and read the Gallifreyan text she has written for him. 

He blinks, and blinks again. Then stands, closing the distance between himself and the monitor. 

“But, this can’t be right, that means…” The cogs begin to turn inside the mind of a genius, knowing for a reason he cannot come to terms with that he could not have possibly seen you on this date, in this time.

And as the realization hits him, his eyes widen, the Tardis seeming to screech in pure glee as her masterful plan is revealed to him. 

“You…” He whispers in disbelief. “You punctured a hole in the fabric of the universe…to bring us to a parallel world, where…” 

A soft knock at the door interrupts his bewildered and undecidedly disapproving train of thought. Leaning around the console, he frowns in confusion and, in a daze, strolls over to the door. Opening it just enough to show himself and not the bigger-on-the-inside majesty of his time machine, the Doctor unintentionally finds himself very nearly nose to nose, with you.

Jumping back in surprise, you chuckle. “Oh, hello! Blimey, talk about up close and personal!”

And the Doctor cannot say a word. In all his hundreds of years, you are the one thing to render him completely and utterly speechless. 

“Anyway, sorry to disturb you and your…policey business? I’m guessing this is a new thing or I just never noticed this blue box on the corner of my street, but, is this somewhere that I can raise concerns?” You ask him, staring up at him with the most clueless and curious expression. The pain caused by the lack of recognition in your eyes is nothing compared to the bliss of seeing the life within them.

Without a word, the Doctor nods.

“Oh, perfect! There’s this guy that’s been following me home from work in the evenings and it’s really starting to freak me out. I’m not sure if I just report it to you and you keep an eye out, since he hasn’t done anything and the law for creeps is lenient at the best of times, but if you’re stationed here I just wanted to give you a heads up, I guess.” You glance to either side, as though fearful the man you are reporting could overhear, but then your eyes meet the Doctor’s again and you smile so kindly. “Anyway, that was all. Hope you have a good night and don’t get too cramped in there! See ya!”

And, like what you’ve done hasn’t just altered the course of history, you spin on your heel and walk away without a care in the world. 

The Doctor closes the Tardis doors again and turns to face the console. 

“We can’t be here. She doesn’t recognise me, this version of her has never met me- well, she has now, I suppose, and that is entirely your fault! But she doesn’t know me, she’s lived the days on this planet that another version of her spent traveling through time and space with me, she has stayed safe here and I cannot do anything to jeopardize that, not again, so we have to-” He stops himself, mid-ramble and mid-walk to the center console.

“Except…the other version of her, the version that we knew, she mentioned a man that followed her home, just once.” His blood runs cold. “She said that had we not met when we did, she feared what he would have ended up doing to her, and in this timeline…” The Doctor’s fists clench at his sides as the reality of the situation dawns on him. “You have given me an impossible choice. To choose between the very fabric of the universe, and saving her just one more time.” He straightens his bowtie and heads for the door, casting a flirtatious smirk over his shoulder. 

“And you knew exactly what I would choose, you sexy thing.”

The next morning, you all but stumble into your office in a half-asleep state, having stayed awake far too late the previous night watching youtube videos about conspiracy theories to distract yourself from the curious, bowtie-wearing policeman you had met. Falling into the spinny chair behind your desk, you open your laptop and start tapping away to log yourself in for the day, tuning out the background noise of your coworkers doing the same. 

“Ahh, (Y/N)!” Your manager’s voice makes you jump, your life flashing before your suddenly wide eyes as you sit up straight and turn to face him.

“I wanted to introduce you to John Smith, he’s a detective in the area that’s been assigned to watch over this part of town due to some unsightly folks being reported on the streets!” He grimaces at the thought, but you hardly notice, your eyes having already gravitated towards the tall, slim man with the dopey smile on his face as he watches the tiniest spark of recognition ignite in your eyes. 

Standing from your chair, you hold a hand out to him. “We’ve met, actually, but I didn’t think it’d amount to this! Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

If possible, the warm smile on his face brightens to challenge even the sun outside. “Duty calls! Pleasure’s all mine, but please, call me the Doctor.” He pretends to very dramatically whisper “It’s my code name.” 

Unable to stop yourself, you giggle and shake your head at his antics, making the young man with ancient eyes beam. 

“I’ll be surveying the area today, but this evening I wondered if you could take me on your route home, so that I can evaluate any…unsightly folks.” He says, referencing your report the day before and your manager’s choice of words.

You nod at him, smiling gratefully. “That’d be wonderful, thanks…Doctor.” 

And oh, how his hearts both skip a beat at hearing you say that.

For the rest of the day, you sit at your laptop and work away, while occasionally casting glances out of the window and at the carpark below, where the curious bowtie-wearing Doctor-policeman “surveys the area”. Now, you don’t pride yourself on being knowledgeable about police work, but you are quite confident that it doesn’t usually entail climbing trees simply to sit in them or getting bored enough to begin peeping in people’s parked cars and accidentally setting several car alarms off. All the same, every glance from the window leaves you with a smile that you truly struggle to wipe from your face, even in the wake of your desk job. 

At the end of your working day, you practically skip out of your office in search of the sweet fool that has offered to walk you home. You find him waiting beneath a streetlamp, surrounded by its golden glow, casting a halo over him that you can’t help to find somewhat metaphorical.

“Evening Doctor, had a good day?” You tease, knowing as well as he does that you have seen the majority of his antics.

“Good evening! I did have quite a good day, yes, did get a bit dull towards the middle, but as long as it helps keep the community safe, I will do it! How was your day?” He kindly returns your question, the two of you subconsciously starting to walk in step with each other.

“It was alright, bit dull, like you say, but we got through it!” You change the subject. “Before I entrust you with my route home, do you have a badge to prove your position, detective?”

Something twinkles in his eye at your sensibility, your desire to protect yourself, and the opportunity for him to show off one of his favorite party tricks. “Ah, of course! Here.” 

Digging into his tweed jacket, he retrieves a leather bound wallet and opens it out to you. The second you have digested the words on the small piece of paper within it, you are laughing so hard you are throwing your head back.

The Doctor, in a state of pure confusion, rapidly looks between you and the psychic paper. “What? What does it say?!”

Wiping your eyes, you try to calm yourself down. “It’s safe to say your flirting is much appreciated after a long day, Doctor.”

With wide eyes, the Time Lord reads over the piece of psychic paper that has never been more accurately named than when it answered your question of his professional title with a few, simple words. 

The love of your life.

And the Doctor has never flushed a more violent shade of red in all his years. With a disgruntled cough, he shoves the wallet back in his jacket.

“I am so sorry, that was not at all appropriate, please forgive-”

Nudging him playfully, you cut him off. “Nothing to forgive! As I said, I appreciated it. I know a creep when I see one, as proven, so I can tell when someone isn’t one. Translation: you can flirt with me as much as you like, pretty boy.”

He expects your flirting to fluster him even more, having not heard it in some time, but the sentiment is so familiar and by extension, comforting to him, the Doctor finds himself relaxing into your presence again, like nothing has changed.

“Pretty boy?” He chuckles.

You shrug. “Yeah, I’d definitely say you’re pretty. I suppose I’d have to, if you’re the love of my life.”

Playing along, the Doctor smiles at you, perhaps a little too adoringly. “Well, yes, it would be quite a shame if one of those statements were false.”

“Either one, in fact.” You give him a cheeky grin, the two of you sharing a comfortable laugh as you pass beneath another streetlight along your walk home that you have memorized so completely, you have all the time in the world to memorize an entirely new part of it.

By the time the Doctor walks you to your front door that evening, both of your faces ache from smiling as much as you have. 

“I regret to inform, I didn’t look behind us to see if we were being followed at any point.” You say, feigning disappointment in yourself that the Time Lord very quickly catches onto.

“Ah, well, in that case, I regret to inform the same- and it’s my job! I am rubbish at this.” 

His response brings another warm laugh from you. “I wouldn’t say you’re rubbish, but I think it is only fair we reconvene tomorrow evening and ensure we do keep our wits about us. What do you think?”

And the Doctor is grinning at you like you’re a tree with silver leaves, standing tall in deep red grass, beneath twin suns. A piece of home he truly never thought he would find again.

“I think I owe it to you, after my poor show today.”

With that, you’re smiling right back at him. “Wonderful! See you tomorrow then, Doctor.”

He raises his hand without really thinking about it and gives a very awkward wave, considering how close the two of you are standing, but it seems you are already accustomed to his clumsy social skills and have found the charm in them that speaks to your heart in the same way it does across every version of you. Sharing one final laugh, the two of you part ways, the Doctor beginning to retrace his steps from your house to his Tardis. 

When casting one last look over his shoulder, he sees you still standing in your half-open doorway, watching after him with a lingering smile that is so beautifully familiar to him. With a more socially acceptable distance now between you, he waves again, and you wave back, stepping into your house and closing your door behind you. And with a spring in his step that was previously long forgotten, the Doctor returns to his time machine.

She is in wonderful spirits, of course, seeing her Time Lord return with such a dopey smile plastered between rosey cheeks as he recounts the day he’s had, everything you said, everything you did. The Tardis makes what can only be described as mechanical noises of approval with every new piece of information about you. 

Knowing he can’t risk trying to time travel to the next morning when already breaking the rules by being in this parallel world to begin with, the Doctor decides to spend the rest of the evening and night tidying up. Something he doesn’t often do, as the Tardis will usually default to clean settings whenever he leaves a room in a mess, but she watches endearingly as he tidies away the books he’d thrown into to the library floor, polishes the railings of the main control room, and strangely, tidies away the fairy lights that you had wrapped around the bannister what feels like a lifetime ago, because you had insisted the Tardis could use a little more ‘dolling up’, as you put it. A classy girl, you had called her. No wonder she is still so fond of you.

But the Doctor had been unable to merely focus his gaze on the little glowing orbs that decorated the main control room, ever since you had last set foot in there. The reminder of your physical presence and the agony of the absence that followed was too much for him to confront, and yet here he is, wrapping them up and tidying them away like Christmas decorations that have been left up just a little too long. It is curious, the Tardis thinks. Does this mean he is ready to start processing his grief? Is he simply on an emotional high from seeing you again, to the point where he can touch the tangible reminders of you that were previously forbidden to trembling hands? Or, does he wish for you to set foot in here again and make the request for fairy lights that he will already have waiting for you? The Tardis does not know, but she knows very well what she hopes to be the truth.

The next morning, the Doctor actually decides to go on a stroll to the local shops. He had visited them only a handful of times with you before and often found them to be incredibly boring, which they once again proved themselves to be when he arrived at 5am to find none of them were open yet. Naturally, he spun around the carpark in shopping trolleys until the doors opened hours later. 

At work, you sit at your desk tapping your shoes against the carpet beneath it impatiently, glancing out of the window every few seconds with a frown that you truly cannot believe is there. Are you really this disturbed by the lack of presence of a man you have known no more than 48 hours?

But when he hobbles into the carpark, very awkwardly carrying a foldable ping-pong set, you struggle to contain the howling laughter that brings tears to your eyes. You watch in absolute wonder as the strange man sets the table up against a tree he had climbed the previous day, in perfect view of the window by your desk, and then turns to wave at you, ping-pong paddle in hand and a goofy grin on his face as he points at it and the table, in case you hadn’t noticed it. Waving back and miming that yes, you acknowledge the ping-pong table he has brought with him, you shake your head in disbelief and finally allow yourself to focus on your work. Meanwhile, in the distance there is the occasional, disdainful yell of a Time Lord playing ping-pong against a tree and losing.

That evening, the Doctor is once again waiting for you under the same streetlamp, illuminated by the same angelic glow as the evening before, and you can’t help feeling that each time you see him standing under it, that becomes more and more fitting.

“Evening Doctor, what’s the final score?” You ask, gesturing to the ping-pong table that he has left in the carpark.

Scoffing and pouting dramatically, the Doctor replies. “I don’t want to talk about it, but good evening.”

In an instant, the two of you are chuckling again, like old friends that have known each other far longer than you two have. Or rather, far longer than you have known him. The walk to your home continues in much the same way as it did the previous day, except the Doctor is more aware of your surroundings this time.

“So, I said to her, y’know, that’s totally unreasonable, and then she-”

The Doctor interrupts you by gently tapping your hand with his own as they swing between you. 

“I don’t want to alarm you, but we are being followed. Carry on as you were, I’ll keep watch.” He whispers, your arm immediately going rigid with fear beside him, but nodding along with his reassurances. “You are completely safe. I won’t let anything harm you.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “Sorry, just remembered I forgot to save a file at work and made a mental note to sort that tomorrow. Anyway, as I was saying-”

Listening dutifully to your stories, as he always has, the Doctor only occasionally casts sideways glances to the opposite side of the street, where a shadowed figure is walking ever so slightly behind the two of you.

Once safely at your door, the two of you share a small smile, but your nervousness is obvious.

“Please, dont worry. After tonight, you won’t ever have to feel this way again. I will deal with him.” The Doctor tells you, voice soft but words firm in their meaning.

And you don’t know why, but you trust him completely. “Thank you. Goodnight, Doctor.”

With that, he gives you a warm smile, one that you will hold onto for the rest of the night. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

He waits until you have stepped inside your home, closed and locked the front door, before he takes his leave. There is no skip in his step this time, his shoes thud against the concrete road with a determination and fury like no other.

Walking over to his Tardis, the Doctor rests his back against the doors and crosses his arms. 

“I know you’re hiding over there, I know you like to follow her. Just tell me why.” He speaks into the street that appears empty, but in his peripheral vision, he can see the same hooded shadow that had been following you earlier, hiding around the corner of someone else’s house.

For a moment, the stalker says nothing and the Doctor is tempted to speak again, but then a voice greets him from the dark.

“None of your business.”

The Doctor laughs coldly. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. By choosing to subject her to the fear that you have, you have made this my business. So, I’ll ask again, just once: why?”

The hooded figure considers the words and the obvious confidence of the bowtie-wearing man that leans against a police box. Based on this, he evidently tries to choose his words carefully, but not carefully enough.

“I like the way she walks faster when she sees me behind her.”

The Doctor’s blood boils in his veins. “You like to scare her?”

When no voice replies to correct him, the Time Lord stands up from leaning against the Tardis and walks over to the monster of a man that thinks himself hidden. 

“Does it make you feel powerful, scaring her? Like you’re making some impact on the world?” The Doctor seethes. “Let me make myself very clear: she is one world that will forever be out of your reach, both in who she is and the fact I will make sure of it. She is under my protection, do you want to know what that means?”

Without giving the monster time to answer, the Doctor grabs him by a tuft of his hair and slams his forehead into his, sending him a shockwave compilation of the Time Lord’s most formidable and incredible moments. The paper man crumbles to the floor, a shaking mess, and the Doctor stands tall over him. 

“If I ever see your face again, it will be your last day on this planet.” The Doctor threatens, voice eerily soft given the weight of his words.

Nodding frantically, the stalker scrambles to his feet and sprints as fast as he can away from the ancient god. 

Rubbing his face tiredly, the Doctor returns to his time machine and collapses on the jump seat. 

“He won't bother her again, she’s safe now.” He tells his oldest companion.

She whirrs pleasantly at him, grateful for him having saved you, but reiterating a question that already nags at his mind.

“After seeing my list of atrocities, it’s highly likely he’ll ever come back. We should…” He trails off, exhausted by the task of sharing his own history with another mind in such a way. Sighing deeply, he sits back in the chair. “But highly likely still isn’t definite. I should probably stay, just one more day, to be certain.”

And the next day, after another wonderful walk home with you, the Time Lord comes skipping through the Tardis doors with another beaming grin. 

“Well, there’s no way he would come back the day after I threatened to remove him from the planet, and I can't leave her so suddenly without an explanation! I owe her that, at least.”

But he is only justifying the continuation down this path to himself, the Tardis holds no opposition to what would usually cause her and the fabric of reality a great deal of stress.

Before he knows it, the Doctor has done the impossible: he has lived a normal week in normal human time. He knows that without you, he never could have done such a thing. To be honest, even if he had been with you as he was before, he would have struggled with this. Having lost you and lived without you in the way that he has, he has never wished more for the most mundane parts of a life with you. All the time spent running with you at his side, facing varying degrees of danger head on, running on adrenaline and saving planet after planet - it was only when he lost you that he realized in doing all of that, he barely had the time to just walk with you. Talk about your day, the weather, your friends, the gossip about town, the slow passing of an evening instead of cramming a month’s worth of adventures into a week of traveling and then dropping you back into your normal life on the same day you’d left it. How you adjusted to both, how you effectively gave up on the life you had here, the one he has now been blessed enough to live with you, he will never know.

And on the last night of the working week, when the two of you share a look that acknowledges the fact you won’t see each other again until Monday, and you invite him into your home for a cup of tea, the Doctor feels a piece of his hearts slot back into place.

Stepping into your home, without the souvenirs and paintings from your travels with the Doctor filling every empty space, only seeing pieces of you everywhere, your ornaments and trinkets and chosen wall art - all of it sings your name to him like a prayer. It is strange, to step into someone’s home for the first time and feel a sense of nostalgia. Something feels wrong, still, but the Time Lord allows himself to be blinded by everything that feels right, the constant comfort that he feels in your presence, the peace you bring his ancient mind. Just once, he feels he is allowed to ignore the nagging in his brain. The universe can let him have this, just for a little while longer.

Having made the Doctor the best cup of tea he has ever had - simply because it is you that has made it - you inform him it is against your code of conduct to stay in your work clothes once you have returned home, and rapidly ascend the stairs, leaving the Time Lord sitting in your living room in a lovesick daze. And when you re-enter the room in the coziest looking pajamas he has ever seen, the Doctor is absolutely certain that the look in his eyes tells you loud and clear, he would do anything for you. 

Flopping down on the sofa beside him, you kick your feet up on the plush footstool ahead of you. “So, Friday night, what are we saying - takeaway and a film?”

You could have asked him to marry you and the question would have sounded just as heavenly. The Doctor nods frantically, grinning after you as you briefly exit the room again and return with a box full of paper menus for various takeaway places, asking him to pick while you choose a film that you say he has to see at least once in his life. He pretends to deliberate, his eyes fixed on you as you dig through your stacks of DVD’s, but he knows that he’s going to choose your favorite takeaway and you’re going to put on your favorite film, which he has watched with you a number of times before, but cannot wait to watch again for the first time.

In the post-takeaway bloat, the Doctor has discarded his tweed jacket and bowtie, and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, while you have simply shifted your position to be snuggled into his side with your head against his chest. The two of you are snuggled under a fluffy blanket, watching your favorite movie in silence, save for your choice commentary over your favorite scenes. With your ear pressed against his chest, the Doctor wonders how you haven’t made a point of his irregular sounding heartbeats. While you have acknowledged it in your own head, something about it feels normal to you, preventing you from having any kind of reaction beyond being comforted by its sound. 

And never before has the Time Lord wished to be stuck in a time loop more. If the only way he could live this day, everyday, for the rest of time, would be to play it out over and over again, he would never complain about a thing. If his moral compass had a gray area that was just a little larger, he could let his Tardis being here cause a fracture in the fabric of reality with any number of consequences, if it meant he could stay here with you. But above all else, the Doctor wishes he could have a silly little job to complain about, that everyday he could come home to your little house, cook and eat dinner with you at your dining table, laugh about the days you’ve had and yours plans for the next ones, then snuggle up on the sofa in your pajamas to watch your favorite shows until you were tired enough to go to sleep. And every night, he would carry you up to bed, looking down at your sleeping face and planning each and every night how he’d ask you to marry him someday soon.

It isn’t until you feel a droplet against your head and sit up to face him that the Doctor realizes he desires that life so strongly it has reduced him to tears. 

“Doctor? What’s wrong?!” 

The care in your voice, the way he can tell you already feel for him, the bond you have automatically slipped back into without even trying. He has made an imprint on your life again, he couldn’t help it. He was here to save you just one more time, to set things right so that he and his time machine could grieve and carry on, that was his purpose here, but he has gone too far. There is no logical way that he can leave unnoticed and in any which way he left you now, he would hurt you. While it would only be a fraction of the agony he has lived in without you, he cannot bring himself to hurt you in any capacity, not again. 

“I have to show you something.” The Doctor tells you, standing up from the sofa and taking your hand, grabbing his jacket with the other and leading you to your front door. 

It is silent as you step into a pair of slippers big enough to fit your fluffy socks in, staring up at the Doctor in confusion and concern, and it is silent as the two of you walk the short distance between your house and his police box. 

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and gently tugs you inside. Your legs falter behind him and he turns to face you, seeing an exact replay of the shock and wonder in your eyes as he did on the first occasion he brought you here. But there isn’t time, not anymore.

“Not a policeman, a time traveller. This is my ship, it’s bigger on the inside.” With your hand still in his, the ancient god rushes through the necessary clarifications as he leads you through the main control room, down a flight of stairs, and to the door that he previously couldn’t bear looking at, that the Tardis had moved closer to the main control room than it had ever been before.

The Doctor’s other hand is shaking as he reaches for the handle, but he cannot delay this any longer. He has gone too far.

Turning the handle dowards, he pushes the door open, the gesture weak but taking everything from him, his arm falling limp at his side. The room glows at your arrival, the Tardis sensing your return and greeting you in a warm smile. And despite the overwhelming strangeness of it all, you manage a small smile back at her. 

The Doctor feels your hand slip away from his as you cautiously step into the room, while he feels an invisible barrier denying him entry. After everything, he does not deserve the right to stand in there with you.

“This universe is not the only one.” He begins, voice light as he focuses on telling you a story, providing an explanation of what came first, forcing himself to forget what came after until he has no choice but to tell you that, too. “There is an ever expanding number of galaxies and worlds out there in this universe and others, and time is like…a cabinet, with folders pressed together that are so similar, only those who know them well enough could tear them apart. Parallel worlds.” 

His eyes are fixed to you as you seem to glide around the room, gaze lingering on every trinket you see, until you reach the fireplace to the left of the door. It bursts to life at your presence, flames roaring and firewood crackling, warming your slippers, but you neglect to notice that, otherwise entranced by the photographs that decorate the mantelpiece. Frame after frame, all different sizes, some photographs not framed yet, but placed there still, waiting to be stood with pride amongst the rest. Your own face, and the Doctor’s, smiling back at you in each and every one, with backgrounds of countless different places.

“I was lucky enough to meet you in a world parallel to this one. We…traveled together.” He takes a deep breath, watching you pick up some of the photographs to examine them closer, a confused frown on your face as you stare at them with such intensity. “There are planets safe in the sky, stars that sing songs of that version of you for saving them, even just for visiting them. That version of you was like…a sun, to many a planet, spreading an infectious joy wherever you went…to none more than me.” With a sad smile, his gaze drops to the floor, the line of your doorway that he cannot cross. “I took you from the planet that created you, the stardust from which you were born, and because of me, that world is now without you.” All light drains from the Doctor’s voice then, the weight of his crimes crushing the flicker of his spirit that only you could bring back. “What should have been an easy pit stop on an asteroid became the worst day in existence. It was your birthday- not that you remembered, you hadn’t been living earth days for some time, but you had mentioned how much you enjoyed celebrating and I couldn’t strip you of that human right along with everything else.” As kind as his gesture had been at the time, on reflection it is morbid, cynical and cruel. Everything he did that led you there had grown sour in the absence of you. “I took you to the largest asteroid belt in history, so that we could have a picnic there and you could take another photograph for your collection. But when we arrived…” The Time Lord swallows the lump in his throat, remembering every agonizing second as though it was happening all over again. “Colonizers, that was what they called themselves. A disorganized group of criminals; a broken cyberman and discharged jadoon, among them. They had stolen a vortex tunnel, which in itself was a terrible crime- they thought they could control one but not even Time Lords managed to master them. My history and their anger towards me for it was waiting outside the Tardis doors but because it had been clear when I’d set the picnic up, I didn’t think to scan the perimeter again. I sent you out there first to surprise you, and they-” Trembling fists clench at his sides, closing his eyes in a pained blink before opening them to a grave frown. “They’d already grabbed you and before I could say anything, they’d thrown you inside.”

Having already placed the photographs back on the mantelpiece, you watch the wonder of a man you’ve come to know crumble with shame. 

“What does a vortex tunnel do?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper so as to not upset him further by verbalizing such painful memories for him too loudly.

“Vortex tunnels are a risky means of escape. They pluck you from where you’re standing and send you hurtling across space and time with no definite destination. They could send someone to random coordinates, floating in space, to certain death- there is no way to predict them.” The Doctor answers, keeping his words factual and objective to regain some composure.

“Why would anyone want to use one?” You question gently.

“Desperation. Based on their unpredictability, they are illegal and kept in stasis, but there have been cases of criminals that use them to avoid trial and execution.” He replies.

“Couldn’t outer space police track them down, or something?” You aren’t quite sure you understand the full extent of the events, feeling that certain aspects are missing and it is down to you to piece together what you can while trying to save the Doctor from reliving such pain.

“Vortex tunnels don’t just send you across time and space, they erase your mind entirely. In the highly unlikely case of someone being tracked to where the tunnel had spat them out, they have no memory of their crimes, so cannot be charged for them. The creature that they were, all but ceases to be.” His voice is light again, fragile this time at the thought of the person he had known being erased from existence and left stranded. “There was no way for me to trace you, not even with a psychic link in the Tardis, because the psychic link with you was gone, your mind as we knew it, was gone. The Colonizers jumped into it afterwards, of course, to escape me.” The Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places a palm against the doorframe. “She’s the reason I’m here. She mourned you so deeply that she ripped a hole in the fabric of reality to bring me to a parallel world, just to save you one last time, to make our last memory something better.” His hand falls to his side. “But I went too far, again. I stayed too long, made too much of an impression on this version of you, your life here. Now, leaving will hurt you, but I can’t take you with me. Not only do I refuse to take you away from the world, the family that is yours a second time, but I cannot replace her. As similar as you are, you are not her, and I know it. Something has felt wrong from the moment I arrived and as much as I’ve tried to ignore it, I can’t anymore-“

“What family?” You interrupt him, stunning him into silence for a moment.

He is so shocked by your question, he manages to meet your eyes for the first time since opening your bedroom door. “Your family, your parents.”

Your brow furrows, expression lost. “I…don’t have parents, Doctor.”

The Time Lord stares at you, dumbfounded. 

And then he’s walking towards you, stepping across the invisible barrier and breaking the distance to stare into your eyes, read what lies beyond them, a stern frown etched in his features. “Yes, you do. As different as parallel worlds can be, if you did not have parents, you would be a very different person. Your mother picked out your living room curtains, your father built the coffee table in there-”

You shake your head, interrupting him again. “Those were both part of the house, they were there when I arrived.”

Too perplexed to continue this interrogation manually, the Doctor takes your hand and all but drags you back to the main control room. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket, he scans your brain and then transfers the data to his monitor, eyes reading the Gallifreyan data displayed over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

“Is there something wrong with me, Doctor?” You ask, beginning to worry based on his expansive knowledge and lack of ability to give you an explanation.

Looking from his monitor to you, he scowls. “Arrived.”

“What?” You question.

“You didn’t say the furniture was there when you moved in, you said it was there when you arrived.” His eyes slowly start to widen. “You saw the Tardis. When we first landed here- she automatically blends in with the world around her, but you saw her. And when I told you to call me the Doctor, you didn’t question it, not once. Despite being introduced to you as John Smith, you never called me that, even in private.” Slow, hesitant steps towards you, as though he’s scared to approach what you could be. “You didn’t question anything, throughout my explanation. Not the time travel, not the Tardis or referring to her as ‘she’, not parallel worlds, not the alien species I referenced, not how we met, the places we’d been- you only started asking questions in the end, about the only things that - out of everything I told you - you didn’t already know.”

His words sink into your skin slowly, your mind finding it much more difficult to digest this information than it had everything else the Doctor has previously told you, and he’s right, all of that should have raised more questions from you.

The Doctor reaches for your hand so slowly, and you don’t know why, but you accept it, instinctively. A small smile blooms on his face, the tiniest glimmer of hope as he looks between you and the Tardis console.

“She wasn’t sick, oh, you sexy thing- that’s how she brought us here, she was tracking you across time and space, pinpointing the anomaly of you, thrown from your own timestream and into another.” He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a kiss against your knuckles. “If we fly away from here, if we go back to your Earth, the timeline will correct itself and you should remember everything- we can’t let this anomaly continue or it could tear apart time and space in some grandiose butterfly effect!” 

And he lets go of your hand to run around the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers with an exhilarated grin on his face, the Tardis whirring with excitement, while you just stand there.

“All this time, I thought she couldn't find you, silly old Doctor! I was slow on the uptake, as usual- I hope the Shadow Proclamation can forgive any ripples in the continuum that follow this, but-”

“Doctor, wait.”

He stops suddenly, the wondrous time machine collapsing into silence. 

“The fact I already trust you as much as I do and don’t feel terrified by this frankly alarming turn of events, suggests you and the Tardis are right, but…remembering an entire life that, as of now, I don’t fully recognise I’ve lived, how will that feel?” For the first time since meeting the Doctor in this world, you are scared at the thought of what comes next.

Understanding your concern, the Doctor returns to you and takes your hands in his. “Quite honestly, I have no idea, I’ve never seen the recovery process from a vortex tunnel. I can only guess that it will feel overwhelming, it could send you to sleep, but whatever happens, I will be right here, and you will be fine. I promise you. I will never risk you again.”

He holds your face in his hands, gaze locked with yours.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “Okay.”

The Doctor smiles at you. “Keep your eyes on me and reach for the lever on your left, you know the one.”

And like it’s second nature, your hand grabs the very lever he’s referring to, bringing a beaming grin from the Time Lord as you tug it down. 

With a wheeze and a groan, the wonderful time machine lifts into the sky and drags herself out of the parallel world, beginning the journey back to the one you came from. Through the time vortex, your knees buckle, winding you and forcing you to collapse into the Doctor, who holds you against him so tightly, slowly lowering the two of you to the floor to hold you on his lap, arms keeping your body safe as your mind races a mile a minute.

“You can do this, we’re almost there. Come on (Y/N), hold on, for me.” He murmurs into your ear, comforting you through the tears that wrack your body, memories attacking you from every angle. 

Regardless of how happy the majority of those memories are, to experience them all at once and at the same time as all of the sad ones, the painful ones; to feel every emotion you are capable of feeling simultaneously and remembering every instance in which you have felt every one, in a microsecond; a human mind can only cope with so much.

The memories of his smile and laugh overlay every flashing image of every place you’ve been together, every species you’ve encountered, friend you’ve made, planet you’ve explored, until it all fades to black and you are empty again.

Only this time, instead of waking up in a simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar house with a mental block on how you had arrived there and no understanding of who you were beyond the corporate life you led amongst billions of your kind, your eyes flutter open to your home. Sitting in a chair beside your bed, he watches over you, your guardian angel. The delirium with which you scan the room around you, acknowledging the crackling fire and the familiarity of your bedroom on the Tardis, makes you feel as though you have slept a thousand years.

“Doctor? What-”

He interrupts you, gently shushing you. “Rest, (Y/N), you need to rest, please. Recovering and reliving your entire life all at once and in under a minute is not a normal process for anyone, you need to let your mind recover.”

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you nod at him. “How long have I slept for?”

“Three days.” 

With eyes like a deer in headlights, you sit bolt upright in bed, immediately starting to feel dizzy and the Doctor jumping from his chair to steady you, propping your pillows up behind you.

“Three days?!” 

The Doctor nods. “Yes. Had I thought about this recovery process, I probably would have picked a more comfortable chair.”

Your jaw drops. “Tell me you have not been sitting there for three days straight.”

And the ancient god is silent.

You sigh. “Doctor!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “If I told you I hadn’t been sitting here for three days, that would have been a lie, so I thought it best not to say anything!”

Shaking your head in disbelief at him, you shuffle to the side of your bed that is pressed against the wall. “For goodness’ sake, you ridiculous fool.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed. “Get in here.”

The Doctor’s eyes widen. “Y-You need the space to rest!”

You hold his gaze. “Before getting to the parallel world, how long had it been since you last saw me?”

He avoids your eyes. “I wasn’t keeping count, we were just drifting while she tracked you- it doesn’t matter.”

Frowning, you look up at the ceiling. “Tardis? On the monitor above my bed, can you tell me how much time had passed between my disappearance and the two of you arriving on the parallel world, in Earth days?”

And as always, she is ever so happy to listen to you. The monitor above your bed flickers on, displaying a black screen with a single line of text. 

1096 days, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

Having never been particularly mathematically gifted, you turn back to the Doctor. “...How many years is that?”

But he doesn’t have it in his hearts to tell you, to admit how long he was alone for, how long he and the Tardis grieved for, how long they drifted in space while she searched for you and he tortured himself with the guilt of losing you, the hopelessness of never being able to find you again. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket again, he zaps the monitor above your bed and then returns the tool to his pocket, hanging his head.

Looking back up at the monitor, your eyes fill with tears at the change of text.

3 Years, 1 Day, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

One hand lifts to cover your trembling bottom lip, while the other reaches for his hand.

“Three years?! Doctor, that’s-”

He cuts you off. “If the Tardis hadn't taken flight when she did, it would have been an eternity, I can assure you.”

The Doctor’s words hit you like a train, so suddenly and stopping your heart with a screech before it starts again, spluttering frantically in your chest at the impact. Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you chuckle, in complete disbelief.

“Well, daft old man, you know what that means, don’t you?”

Unable to resist the urge to lift his head and see your smile again, the Doctor meets your eyes. Without realizing it, he starts to smile back at you, silently asking you to continue.

And you do, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go of it to tap the empty space on the mattress beside you again, with a tearful smile that sets both his hearts ablaze.

“I think you need a cuddle just as much as I do.”

[merakiui]

victorian era doctor riddle rosehearts and his darling patient suffering from hanahaki disease.

dr. rosehearts who is the finest medical practitioner in town, renowned for his expertise and intelligence in the field. so it's only fitting that, as a noble and only child hailing from a wealthy set of parents, you are given the best treatment available. riddle sees so many affluent families and so you're no different. this disease, however, is an oddity. it's very scarcely documented in old texts, and most of the information regarding it has been lost to time. supposedly, the cure to this flowery ailment remains unknown. for riddle, this is as much of a challenge as it is an inspiration. he will cure you; that's his promise as a proud doctor.

so to better monitor you and keep track of your condition, riddle suggests you be moved into his home. a temporary arrangement, of course. it's not nearly as grand as what you're used to, but it is quite spacious. it's half hospital and half home, a place in which patients come to him. for isolation purposes, if their illness is particularly dangerous, amongst other reasons. and what reason would anyone have to doubt the great dr. rosehearts?

your parents are desperate. they'll do anything if it means you'll stop coughing up petals or complaining of a throat scratched sore by persistent thorns. riddle collects samples of the petals in hopes that the town's botanist rollo flamme can identify the exact species, where it commonly grows, how to safely manage it, and so on. it's a peculiar case, one riddle has only ever spied remnants of in old notes.

you rely so heavily on dr. rosehearts, your way of life compromised. you beg him to help you, to get rid of whatever's causing this. it takes time, but rollo identifies the flower. it's a curious finding. such a flower is not native to this part of the country. in fact, there should be no reason for it to be here, for it cannot thrive in this type of environment. riddle is left puzzled. just how did such a flower find its way into your system? what is sustaining it? is it sapping your life away? so many questions arise, yet none can be answered in full.

most importantly, what does the timeline look like if death looms on the horizon? how long does he have before the worst strikes?

it has been some time and, though he knows he ought to remain impartial, dr. rosehearts has found himself infatuated with his poor patient. he tends to you like one might a rose in a garden, diligently and ever so carefully, pruning away signs of sickness in order to keep you somewhat healthy. it feels inevitable, even more so when your legs give out and, much to your horror, little branches with tiny leaves begin to poke through your ankles.

so now you're placed in a wheelchair, and that is that. most days he thinks you're more doll than human, especially since your spirits seem far more dampened than they once were. you wither in your chair, quiet and wistful, longing for good health. though it's in his profession to save, he's never seen you in a more beautiful state. like a statue doomed to exist in stiff silence. like a single flower struggling to brave harsh conditions. like a doll destined to be taken care of by his gentle, capable hands.

he was never allowed dolls as a child. such toys were distracting according to his mother. but now he has one for himself and, even if he thinks himself too old to play with dolls, you're one he just can't put down.

perhaps it's for the best that your legs are broken and your lungs are weak and your entire body is supported by this parasitic plant. with this, he's given the chance to finally indulge in one of the many things he was denied as a child.

the appeal of a doll is that they are versatile. they can wear an entire wardrobe of clothes. they can be bent into various positions. they can look upon you with glass eyes and smile with rosebud lips. and they can't speak. never speak!

riddle doesn't need to be traditional for something so unethical. weddings and rings and courtship mean everything in his dreams, but he is a man watered with logic and sensibility. and you are just a quiet, fragile rose drowning in unwanted, suffocating affection.

[gatheringbones]

[“Later in the day, while Heather and I were making the bed and talking about the chores we needed to get through the next morning, she used a male pronoun in regard to me. “Well that’s gonna be weird, huh?” I said. “Not saying ‘he’ for me anymore.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “I mean I want to transition. I want to become a woman… fully.” She paused and fell silent. I think the revelation that I was a transsexual truly hit her in this moment. She slowly started to comprehend that this didn’t mean I’d simply be cross-dressing around the house. It started to hit me, too. I wanted to transition genders, and there was a lot more to that than just hormones and surgery. Neither of us fully understood what it meant yet, or where to start.

The next day Andrew and James met me at the studio to talk about plans around the album and the future of the band. Jordan came, too, as he was again filling in as our manager. Until then, I’d been telling them that I was writing a concept album about a transsexual prostitute—the metaphor behind the feeling of having whored myself out to a record label was thinly transparent since James, Andrew, and I were all processing our own post-traumatic stress disorder from the past couple years of music industry hell. Previously, I’d been able to sneak a few subtle metaphors about my dysphoria in here and there. But an album focused entirely on it? I didn’t know how to explain that, and the new songs were not sticking with the guys.

James could make out a few lyrics to the title track through his in-ear monitors: “You want them to see you like they see every other girl / But they just see a faggot.” “Hey, man,” he said between takes. “Are you saying ‘faggot’ on this song? It sounds like you’re saying it a lot. Are people gonna be cool with that?”

I realized that the reason the words weren’t connecting with them was that they didn’t have the context. So I came out with it. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted them to understand. I couldn’t hold back the momentum of the day before. Once the truth was spoken, it could be contained no longer.

“It’s about me, and how I’m a transsexual. This is something I’ve been dealing with for a long time,” I told them. Once I started explaining it, I couldn’t stop. It was like an out-of-body experience where I saw myself, but was powerless to hold back the flood of words. “I want to start living as a woman, and to be referred to as Laura. This is something I’ve thought about a lot and isn’t going away, so I might as well embrace it.”

No one knew what to say once I finally stopped rambling. The three of them just sat there in the studio control room, looking down at their feet or at whatever lit-up piece of audio equipment their eyes could find, focusing anywhere but on me. We’d had some heavy conversations over the years—emotional moments where we’d told each other off or outright quit the band—but nothing compared to this. Andrew’s usually warm smile was locked in since I started talking, and it looked like it was going to melt off his face. His skin flushed red, trying not to flinch. There was nothing any of them could say. I broke the silence by asking them to come smoke a joint with me. We got high standing in a circle in the open back doorway. “OK, well,” I said. “I guess that’s all we’ll do today. How about we try again tomorrow?”

We shared the most comically awkward group hug, a horrible mess of pats on the back and overly extended stiff arms. They left, and I locked the door behind them. Oh fuck, I thought. I called Heather and told her that I had just come out to them. It felt unreal to speak these secrets aloud, hearing myself verbalize thoughts that had only ever existed in my head.

The guys had an hour and a half back to Gainesville to think about all that had just been unloaded on them. James has since told me that as he sat there stoned on that long drive home, a lot of memories over the past 15 years suddenly started to make sense for him. My lyrics, my behavior on tour; one by one, he had tiny flashes of realization about me in this new light.”]

laura jane grace, from tranny: confessions of punk rock’s most infamous anarchist sellout, 2016