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#travel consultant courses
globalskillsacademy · 9 months
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One of the top providers of specialized certificate programs in the ever-evolving travel and tourism industry is Global Skills Academy. We are aware of how crucial flexibility is to your academic goals. Our courses come in a range of learning formats. This curriculum covers the fundamentals of travel and tourism management, such as operations in the travel business, destination knowledge, and customer service.
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a-sketchy · 8 months
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yukiKOOOOOOOOO!! god rank 2. i want that job licence for you so much, i want you to find your agency and independence so fucking bad i’m sorry you’re in persona 4
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bredforloyalty · 4 months
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i wonder if it can be managed that i no longer live in that city but i do a research project during the fall semester
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3 Ways to Reduce Liability for Medical Tourism Facilitators
Protecting your medical tourism business is essential. This video dives into effective ways to safeguard your operations and ensure client safety. Discover the steps to reduce risk and maintain high standards in your services.
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avis-writeshq · 4 months
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hi ! love ur fics <3
can i request reader as being a massive flirt publicly towards spencer but when its Intimate and Private, reader is suddenly Stunned and Speechless and Blushing and spencer kinda gets the confidence to Do Stuff
im sorry if that was the stupidest described ask ever achh but lov u !
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pairing: s9!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, bombshell-ish(?) reader, fluff warnings: 16+ for kind of suggestive? he’s so in love UGH a/n: thank you for requesting !! wc: 1.22k
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Spencer thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the world. He thinks that you’re glowing every time you walk into the room– no matter how upset or disgruntled you may be– and as cliche as it may seem, he’s certain that swarms butterflies fill his stomach and cloud his mind. In fact, he thinks that you have always had that effect on him, ever since he’s met you. You’re touchy, and despite Spencer’s general aversion to physical touch, he finds that he doesn’t mind your germs much. 
Very often he finds himself at your mercy, with the way your fingers brush against his face as if it’s nothing, as if that movement alone was something that you do with everyone (you’ve only ever done it with him). There are other instances where you’ve been very blatant in your attraction towards him, so much so that he ends up with his cheeks hot more often than not. A part of him is grateful that though you work in the FBI, it isn’t his division. He doubts he’d be able to see the end of it.
“Spencer,” you gush, curling your fingers into the ends of his hair. Or rather, lack of hair. “You got a haircut. You’re supposed to consult me first, you know.”
He laughs, looking up at you as you stand over him while he sits at his desk. “Is that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?”
“Yes.” You speak with mock indignation, properly running your fingers through his hair from his fringe to the back of his head. “It’s so short.”
“Do you hate it?” There’s a momentary pang of unease that strikes at his heart. “Maybe I should have consulted you.”
“No, baby, it looks really good.” You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his hairline. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?”
Of course I’m warm, Spencer wants to say while you continue to dote on him, your hands travelling to his collar next and brushing against his throat. You’re touching me in the middle of the bullpen. 
He opts to not say anything when he sees your knowing smile. You’re doing this on purpose. He clicks his tongue, squeezing at your waist lightly as you lean over him to kiss his forehead. He’ll let you win this battle; he’s going to get you back.
***
He doesn’t really know how to get you back. There are a few harmless things he’d thought of doing: sneaking into your department and hiding your mug on the top shelf (he fears that you’d ask someone, a taller more handsome someone, to rescue it for you), not wearing the tie you picked out for him that morning (he can already envision your disappointed frown and his chest aches at the imaginary you getting upset because of him), and putting toothpaste in your Oreos (he doesn’t want to die). 
All of these ideas go down the drain and he ends up not getting back at you for days. It doesn’t help that he’s been gone for a case while you’ve been stuck at home. It isn’t all bad, and a part of him wishes that he can hold himself to the same level of confidence as Derek when Penelope calls him with flirtatious motives. You do virtually the same thing. 
Your words are honey as you shower him with compliments, ending him with a simple “Hey, gorgeous.” 
It is enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks to warm to a pretty pink. There’s not much overlap between the Human Resources Branch and the BAU, especially considering that you assist more on the training and hiring side of things, so there aren’t many opportunities for you to fluster him when he’s out of the office. He finds that you always make an excuse.
“Hi,” he responds softly, avoiding the teasing gazes of Emily and Derek. “Is… are you okay?”
“Do I need to not be okay to talk to my lovely boyfriend?” 
You’re teasing him, poking fun at the way he so easily surrenders to you. He resists the urge to run out the room. 
“Stop,” he warns half-heartedly. He says your name quietly, tapping his fingers at the edge of the table. “Is there something you needed?”
He can practically hear you smile as you respond, the sound of your mouse clicking in the background. “Oh, yeah. My computer says that my storage is full. What do I do?”
“Your storage is full,” he repeats, smiling. “That’s why you called me?”
“It’s lunchtime in Santa Monica, right?”
He relents, cheeks hurting from how hot and stretched out they are. “Yes.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 
He puffs out a breath of air, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re lovely.” He can imagine you batting your eyes, your smile saccharine. “Don’t you wish that you were here, gorgeous?”
He’s definitely going to get you back.
*** 
Spencer goes to your apartment once the case ends, his eyes dreary with sleep and the horrors that he saw only a few hours prior. Your apartment key hangs next to his on his keychain– a limited edition Tardis charm that you got him for his birthday. He huffs out a breath, unlocking your door and stepping inside. He’s met with you dancing around in your kitchen, headphones on whilst holding a wooden spoon. A part of him is concerned with how easily he could slip into your home without being notice, but the other part can’t help but smile at how carefree you look, and he leans against the wall to stare. 
He doesn’t get the opportunity to stare for long. It’s comical, the way you jump upon seeing him, eyes wide as you rip your headphones off. 
“You’re back! You scared me.” A smile stretches across your lips while you press your palm to your chest whilst taking steps towards him. “Don’t do that ever again.”
Spencer laughs, toeing his shoes off and resting his hands on your waist. His head dips down to meet your gaze, peering up at you with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”
Your cheeks glow warm and you break eye contact. “Yeah?”
“Mm.” He hooks his pointer finger under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I missed you.”
He notes the way you don’t respond, in some sort of daze while your lips part in both surprise and flusteredness. He understands your sentiments– it isn’t often that he initiates affection. 
“Did you miss me, too?” Spencer asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 
“Of course I did,” you croak out, heat building in your head. 
Spencer chuckles, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose, flustering you to the point of no return. He kisses you again, one hand holding the base of your head while the other squeezes at the flesh of your waist. It’s dizzying, the taste of coffee on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in your hair. 
“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs once he’s pulled away. His thumb rubs a line from the back of your ear to where your jawline starts, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]
Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 3: Simon
After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.
You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone… 
Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.
And so you did. 
Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right. 
Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.
You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched. 
You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.
The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…
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“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.
“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.
Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.
you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?
Simon: No.
Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.
you: was that a dick joke?
Simon: No.
Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.
You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…
you: ambiguous, i like it.
you: so how tall are you then?
Simon: Does it matter?
you: no. just curious.
Simon: 6ft4.
you: that feels like a lie.
Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.
you: worried people would call you a liar?
Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.
you: that’s fair ig.
you: what’s a traveling consultant?
Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.
you: what kind of businesses?
Simon: That’s need-to-know.
you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.
you: will i ever get to know?
Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.
Simon: Not if I can help it.
you: somehow i can tell.
you: what are you doing here then?
Simon: Curiosity mostly.
you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀
Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.
you: i see.
you: got anything yet?
Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.
you: am i your first then?
Simon: Not my first in anything, love.
Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.
you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?
Simon: Something of the sorts.
you: aw, im really not going to be your first.
Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.
Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.
Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.
you: idk what if you murder me?
Simon: I promise I won’t.
you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨
Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.
you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.
Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.
Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.
you: reassuring. thanks.
Simon: Glad to be of service.
you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.
Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?
you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon
Simon: LOL.
Simon: No.
you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.
Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.
Simon: You’re funny. 
Simon: I like that.
you: thanks. 
Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.
you: probably a mix of both.
Simon: How about we confirm that then? 
Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.
Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.
you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?
Simon: No sweat.
Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.
You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
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Pronti a partire per Milano! Ready to go to Milan! #course #nttdata #italo #train #travel #training #wakeupearly #fun #readytoplay #consulting #motivation (presso Rome, Italy) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkKegyHjqPC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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helen-with-an-a · 6 months
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I am an adult pt 4
Hi. So this is pt 4 of the I am an adult. I really liked writing it and hope you enjoy it too. I definitely want to do a 5th part but I'm not sure about how many more after that I will do (if you get what I mean). Also, all of the German and Spanish is from google/google translate so if it's wrong, I apologise
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue
Description: Lena gets the talk
Word Count: 4.1k
TW: Slight smut (undescribed/suggestive rather than outright)
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You weren’t used to waiting at airports for people. Usually, you were the one who was walking off the plane to visit friends and family. But you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up – just thinking about who would be walking through the door made you smile. You didn’t quite know the protocol for meeting your long-distance girlfriend off a flight. You were nervous about it – wanting to do it right. You may have gotten into a bit of a TikTok wormhole over couples reuniting; most people went with flowers and a sign, but you were staying in an unfamiliar city for both of you, and you did have a match to play. It was something you agonised over for days before the arrival. Having consulted an unhelpful Ona, a laughing Patri and an amused Jana, you settled on asking Alexia. That was an adult thing to talk about, right?
“Um … Ale, can I … can I ask you something?” You said as you curled up on her sofa.
“Of course, pequeña. Esta todo bien?”
“Yeh, um … it’s about Lena, actually” That might have been a bad way to phrase it. Alexia’s face dropped, her gaze becoming a little icy.
“Que hizo ella?” Her voice was just as cold.
“Nothing, nothing, prometo.” You reassured her. “I wanted to ask you what to get her for the airport,” you explained quietly, a little apprehensive over her response.
“Oh, cariño.” Alexia cooed, pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her as she twisted to face you, her hand reaching along the back of the sofa to pick at the corner of the cushion. “Honestly, I don’t think she’d be expecting anything. I certainly wouldn’t if Olga and I met somewhere in the middle.” Her look softened even more as you nodded furiously, eyes locked on her patterned carpet. She could see you sag ever so slightly – clearly, you wanted to get Lena something. “I think, if you really want to get her something,” she continued, smiling as you perked up at her response. “You could do something small – like a … ugh, what’s the word …” She was so fluent in English you often forgot that it was technically her third language. “It’s small and fluffy; you give it to niñas,” she clicked frantically, clearly trying hard to remember. “Un oso de peluche,” she sighed, wracking her brain to remember the English word.
“A teddy bear?” You asked, helping her out slightly.
“Sí, sí, a teddy bear. You could get her one of those? It would be small enough for her to pack away when she travels, and it is something she can keep with her when she’s back in Germany.” You smiled at her suggestion – nodding happily at her words.
The day was finally here. You were finally seeing Lena again. Madrid airport was a little struggle to navigate but you stood, buzzing with excitement, as you waited at arrivals. You looked down at the goodies you had with you – a little bag filled with a very cute and very fluffy teddy bear, some Spanish sweets, and an iced coffee in your hand. You had also packed a few extra jumpers to sneak into Lena’s bag before she left.
L💚: Just got through passport control and stuff
L💚: I’ll be maybe 5/10 more mins
[Initial] ❤️💙: eeeeeeeeeeeeee
[Initial] ❤️💙: ok – I’m like right by the exit
[Initial] ❤️💙: turn left when u walk through it and im by the pillar post thingy
5 to 10 more minutes … you could do that. With every passing minute, your excitement and anticipation grew. It had been a long few months without Lena by your side. Yes, you texted every day; Yes, you Facetimed 5 times a week minimum; but seeing her in person, being able to hug her and hold her and kiss her and smell her and touch her and … you couldn’t be more excited.
“Hola, mi amor.” Very poorly pronounced Spanish whispered to you as strong, familiar arms wrapped around your waist.
“Lena,” you squealed, clearly having missed her walk up – far too much in your own head.
“mmmm, ich habe dich vermisst,” she sighed happily as you twisted in her grip to hug her tightly. She was warm and soft and smelt of cinnamon.
“I’ve mis- no, wait,” you cut yourself off. She tilted her head to the side, drawing back to look at you. “Ich habe dich auch so sehr vermisst,” you stumbled slightly but the big, wide grin on Lena’s face told you, you had said it right.
“Can I kiss you, Schatz?” she asked gently. You blinked slightly, not expecting her to ask you that in such a public space. “I, we, don’t have to. It’s just it’s been so long, and,” she rushed to get out, hating the fact that she had made you even the smallest bit uncomfortable.
“Liebe,” you cut her off, waiting until she looked at you before you continued. When her warm chocolate eyes met yours, you struggled not to float away in them. “Please, kiss me.” You smiled as she let out a breath of relief. You met halfway, and it was just as perfect as all the other kisses you two had shared, if not more so after such a long time apart.
“As …” she cleared her throat as she pulled away slightly. “As much as I want to continue. We should get going … but later, ich verspreche.” She vowed and picked her bag up off the floor. And extending her hand for you to take.
“No, wait, gimme that.” You gestured for her bag, forcing it from her when she hesitated to hand it over. “Also, these are for you,” you said with a proud smile, giving her the now slightly watery coffee and bag of goodies.
“Schatz, you shouldn’t have.” She began, but you shook your head, denying her the chance to complain. You stuck your tongue out at her, intertwined your fingers and pulled her towards the exit.
Taking the metro back to your hotel reminded you a lot of your first date. Lena looking slightly puzzled over the Spanish being spoken all around you. On your first date, you had shyly stood next to her, closer than two friends would be not enough to make her feel uncomfortable, and quietly translated a bit of the conversation between two girls nearby; you added the voices to differentiate between the two girls and jokingly copied any actions they did. This time, you let her lean against you, one arm sneaking around her waist to fiddle with the belt loops on her jeans and the other holding tightly onto the handrail. Her head dropped into your neck, muttering something in German.
“What was that, Liebe?” You asked softly, mindful that your mouth was quite close to her ear despite the busy train.
“Müde,” she said again into your neck. It took you a minute to sift through the German in your head. You pouted when you finally understood what she was saying. She was tired. That you could understand, travelling was difficult when you understood the language, let alone one where you landed in a country where the language was entirely different and almost no familiarity to yours. You pressed a chaste kiss to her hairline, hoping to comfort her a little.
“Naw,” you cooed. "It’s okay. We’re almost back to the hotel. We can have a nap if you want,” you pressed another kiss to her head. "But Alexia says she has to see you at some point tonight,” you reminded her.
“Forgot ‘bout Alexia,” she whined tiredly, her grip tightening on you.
“I’m sorry, Liebe. I promise she won’t be too harsh or scary. I know she can come off a bit..." you struggled for the right word. “Intense? But I promise she’s really sweet.”
You finally made it to your stop, and you filtered off the train, fingers laced together so neither of you got lost (mainly Lena, as she didn’t know a lick of Spanish). Just as you were walking up the steps outside, a flustered woman appeared next to you.
“Lamento mucho molestarte. Pero estoy intentando llegar al aeropuerto y tienes una maleta. Sabes cómo conseguirlos?” The flurry of Spanish through you off for a second as you had been conversing in English almost all day.
“No, no te preocupes en absoluto. Um, sólo necesitas …” As you explained the directions to the woman, Lena couldn’t help but watch in awe. She knew you could speak Spanish – you lived in Spain, you played for Barcelona, and she’d seen you talking in Spanish on the football pitch. Hell, the first time she had met you, you were finishing a conversation in Spanish with the film and media crews. It had done something to her then, and it was doing something to her now, too. She couldn’t understand a word of what you were saying, but the accent, the rapid words, the hand gestures, your kind smile … she suddenly wasn’t as tired as she felt on the train.
“Sorry, Liebe,” you said as you finished, waving to the woman as she sped down the steps towards the platform. She was asking about getting to the airport—she had seen your bag and guessed we had just come from there.” You explained, taking her (now slightly clammy) hand and leading her towards your hotel.
The hotel room was big and welcoming, a large bed in the centre with your things thrown haphazardly across it called to Lena as she walked through the door. She left her stuff by the wall and flopped heavily down, sighing at the softness that surrounded her. You looked at her from your vantage point by the door. Her top had ridden up, exposing her abs slightly, her biceps were on full display, and the veins in her arms rippled slightly as she twisted her fingers in the bedding underneath her. She was doing things to you – maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex a good few months (it was currently the longest you had ever gone without since you started having sex); maybe it was because she looked so at home amongst your things; perhaps it was the fact that your girlfriend was finally within touching distance. You also realised you didn’t quite care enough to figure it out.
“Incoming,” you yelled as you launched yourself at her.
“Oof,” she huffed, her breath leaving her body as your weight settled on top of her, both of you laughing quietly at your behaviour.
“Hi,” you smiled at her, arms either side of her head, legs straddling her hips.
“Hi,” she smiled back, lift her hands to stroke her thumbs across your exposed skin.
“I…” should you say it? “I’ve missed you,” you chicken out from what you really wanted to say. You knew you told her at the airport that you missed her, but you needed her to know just how much her absence affected you.
“I’m sorry.” She knew the distance was difficult for both of you. You shook your head, refusing to let her think that this was her fault.
“No, there’s nothing that can be done at the moment. I’m at Barca; you’re at Wolfsburg. It is what it is.” You shrugged, hoping it would ease her sadness a little. “But … you’re here now, we have this weekend. And that is all that matters.” You smiled, the wide, soft smile full of love and tenderness that only Lena got to see often. You felt rather than saw Lena crane her neck up to try to kiss you; your smile shifted into a cheeky grin as you pulled back just out of her reach. She stopped looking at you offendedly.
“Nuh, uh, uh,” you teased, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I...” You kiss her forehead. This was your chance. “Missed.” You kissed her cheek, backing out again. “You.” You kissed her other cheek.
“And I’ve missed you, Schatz.” Her hands left your waist, coming up to cradle your face, holding to exactly where she wanted. She waited a few moments, letting her eyes scan your face, trying to commit everything to memory (even though she had already done that well before you left Germany at New Year’s). “So much,” she whispered as she finally tugged you down to meet her lips.
The kiss started out slow, sweet and tender, as your love was poured into it. As you parted, her darkened eyes roamed your body, one hand cementing itself in your hair, tugging lightly as the other moved to trace along the waistband of your shorts. Your kisses weren’t a battle for dominance, but you were falling into a pattern of give and take that was uniquely yours. Your top was the first to come off, hers following not too long afterwards. Buttons were undone, drawstrings loosened and more clothing adding to the mess on the floor. Her hands grasped at any available flesh as your fingers slipped inside. Dark spots were bitten into supple skin, moans were melodies as you rediscovered each other.
“Don’t stop,” You panted into her skin as she guided you to the brink of ecstasy.
“Never,” came her reply, equally as breathless.
“What happened to being tired?” You laughed as she snuggled into your side, her once-eager fingers tracing light shapes into your skin. She groaned at your teasing, pressing more weight onto you. You fiddled with her hair as you waited for an explanation.
“Dein Spanisch. Mit dieser Dame am Bahnhof … Es hat etwas mit mir gemacht” You didn’t understand it fully. Spanish … train station? You were a little confused.
“Sorry, I got something about my Spanish and the lady at the train station. What was the last bit?” You were trying to learn German, but you had started with the most practical things – the greetings, stuff that happened in daily life, cheesy lines you could say to Lena to make her blush.
“Um … it’s a bit embarrassing, really … you were speaking Spanish to that lady at the station,” she blushed profusely. You just smiled, letting your fingers comb through the mess her hair had become. “Es war wirklich sexy.” Your grin doubled in size. So, you speaking Spanish turned her on? That was useful to know.
“Well,” you said after a moment of silence. “If me giving directions to the airport is sexy, you should hear me when I say something truly seductive,” you teased, squeezing her gently as she buried her head in your neck again.
“Mmmm, déjame pensar. Cuando llegue a casa, debo acordarme de llamar al administrador del edificio.” You laughed as you felt her blush, the new heat obvious against your skin. You also couldn’t help but notice the slight shift of Lena’s hips against your thigh. “Liebe, I just said I needed to call my building manager – that is not sexy.” She pulled away from your skin.
“Uh, everything you do is sexy,” she countered. “Say something else? Something that’s actually hot,” she begged, ignoring your teasing smile, and raised eyebrow.
“Hm, vale, vale,” you wracked your brains, trying to think of something that you actually considered sexual. “Quiero que me tengas en todas las formas que quieras. Quiero destrozarte una y otra y otra vez.” You usually weren’t that explicit about your wants, but you were reliant on Lena not really knowing what you were saying.  Lena was gobsmacked. She had not a clue what you had just said but the way you had said it – the slight rasp in your voice, the rosy hue to your skin, the sticky sheen of sweat, the hickeys she had sucked into your skin. She rolled you over, balancing above you as her legs slotted between yours.
“Redonda Dos?” You asked. She knew enough Spanish for that.
Just as things were getting interesting again, your door swung up.
“Y/N? ¿Estás aquí? Ale te ha estado enviando mensajes de texto toda la tar -” Ona cut herself off with a shrill scream.
“Me arden los ojos.” She gagged dramatically. “Ew, mis ojos.”
“Oni, qué carajo en realidad?” You shouted back, dragging the duvet up to cover the both of you.
“Do you want to introduce me?” She grinned evilly.
“No, get out!” You glowered at her. When she made no effort to move, you threw a pillow at her.
“Ale says to come to her room.” You flicked your finger at her, letting her know your displeasure. Turning uour attention was fixed back on Lena, you heard her cackling outside.
“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße. Alexia wird mich töten. Ich bin tot. Ich werde sterben. Ich hatte praktisch Sex mit ihrer kleinen Schwester. Oh, mein Gott. Ich werde sterben. Fuck.” Lena was panicking – real, genuine anxiety spread throughout her chest as she sat up against the pillows.
“Liebe, it’s ok,” you soothed, grabbing one hand in yours and swinging your other arm across her shoulders. “Liebe?” you tried again.
“Alexia is going to kill me.” Lena said, looking into your eyes for what she genuinely thought might be the final time.
“No, she won’t.” You smiled softly, not wanting to laugh at Lena’s ridiculousness. “I won’t let her,” you vowed, squeezing her hand tight in promise. “Now, we should probably get some clothes on and head to Ale’s room.”
As you reached for your hoodie, your world darkened suddenly as fabric landed on your head. You lifted it up to reveal a very familiar Adidas hoodie, turning back to see a sheepish Lena.
“How did that get there?” She asked innocently.
“I don’t know, Liebe. How did it get there?” You played along. “There’s only one Adidas athlete in this room, and it’s not me.” She shrugged, snatching your Barca hoodie out of your reach.
“I don’t know, Schatz. But it looks like it’s your only hoodie, and I want you to stay warm.” She was a terrible actor.
“If you wanted me to wear your clothes, you could have just asked,” you laughed as you slipped on the material, getting slightly lost as you tried to find the head hole. You heard a sigh and footsteps before the fabric was rearranged on you as your head burst through the top.
“Guten Tag,” you beamed at her.
“Hallo, Schatz,” she smiled at you before stealing a kiss. You hummed gently, allowing yourself to melt into her just slightly.
“Vamos, vamos.” You spun her around to face the door. “Let’s not keep Ale waiting,” you laughed and tapped her on the bum to get her moving.
Alexia’s room was exactly the same as yours – a wide, comforting bed with a mountain of pillows dominating the space. You tapped on the door, knowing that she would probably have at least 3 of the other girls in her room with her.
“Schatz, I know I said I would endure this for you … for us,” Lena said when it was clear Alexia was making you wait a little. Was she second guessing this? Was she regretting you? “And I will, I will.” She added when your head snapped back to look at her. “But I’m really freaking out here.” You softened.
“Oh, Liebe. It’s ok,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “I understand, really, I do. This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to meet Ale, but I promise you,” you squeezed her to emphasise your point. “She’s a giant softy with a tendency for affectionate bullying. If she starts speaking in Catalan, just ignore her; that’s what I do,” you joked, trying to lighten her mood a little. “She’s just like Alex and Svenja are to you. She’s just looking out for me – even though I don’t need her to and certainly not in this case,” you were rambling now, unknowingly easing Lena’s anxieties in an instant.
Someone cleared their throat behind you, cutting your talking off. Lucy. You smiled at her, pushing past as you guided Lena to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in both of yours when you sat next to her – providing quiet but noticeable support. There were more people in the room than you were expecting. You knew Alexia would call on Lucy, Irene and probably Paños and Marta to give the talk, but Ingrid’s presence surprised you, as did Ona’s and Patri’s.
“Entonces, quieres presentarnos a Lena?” Alexia asked, leaning against the desk in front of you, Paños on her left, Lucy on her right. Irene and Marta stood blocking the path to the door – all of them with what they thought were tough expressions on their faces. Ingrid looked annoyed to be there, Ona was trying to look hard, and Patri had an amused smile dancing on her lips.
“In English, Alexia. It’s not fair on Lena to speak in a language she doesn’t know.” You said calmly, breathing deeply to keep your emotions in check. They had promised not to treat you like a child.
“Do you want to introduce us to Lena?” She asked again, voice artificially calm.
“Not if you’re going to treat us like children.” You raised an eyebrow, reminding all of them of their promises to treat you more adult-like.
“That was before we found out you were having sex,” Lucy started. She stood up from where she was leaning, you matching her behaviour by squaring your shoulders.
“Suficiente, vosotros dos.” Alexia ordered before you had the chance to comment. As much as she wanted to give a protective big sister talk, she realised that maybe this was what you meant when you said that you wanted to be treated more like an adult. It was silent as she studied you and Lena – sitting so close you were practically on top of each other, your thumb never wavering in its soothing motion against the back of Lena’s hand, the way Lena’s eyes kept flitting back to your face in search of any discomfort. She didn’t need to do the grandiose speech she was planning to give – she didn’t need to let every one of the older girls chime in with their threats. If Lena harmed you, Lena wouldn’t harm you – of that, Alexia was sure. “Everyone out. Not you or Lena,” she said as you shifted to leave. “Ona, quédate también por favor.” Alexia ignored the other’s protests; Lucy’s whining was heard even with the door closed. She had allowed Ona to stay in her role as your best friend – she wasn’t about to deny her this opportunity (especially since she knew you had promised Lucy you would exact a painful revenge if Ona ever came to you crying over something about their relationship).
“Lena. I am going to say this one time,” Alexia began, watching as Lena’s eyes grew wide and gulped noticeably. You just rolled your eyes at her antics. “If you hurt her,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I will hunt you down … and end you.” Alexia was quite pleased with herself – she considered that to be restrained enough to appease you whilst instilling enough fear in Lena to make her slightly nervous. Lena nodded, taking a breath to start making promises of never ever hurting you.
Ona cleared her throat from her perch on the windowsill, drawing all of your attention to her. She took a deep breath before letting out the sentence she had been practising since you first mentioned a German footballer had caught your eye, “Ich werde dir die Beine brechen.” The pronunciation was horrendous, but Lena knew what she meant. It was the worst threat Ona could think of with Lena being a footballer.
“Oni,” you whined, although you had no leg to stand on – your threat to Lucy had been so much worse.
“There, we have said what was needed to be said. Let’s go to dinner, sí?” Alexia smiled at the three of you, the polar opposite of the menacing Captain that stood in her place moments before. Ona laughed, looping her arm through Alexia’s and heading to the door.
“That wasn’t so bad,” You joked, nudging Lena. The tension was still very much in her body, however.
“I need them to know, and you need to know it too. I won’t hurt you, ever, Schatz. I promise, ich verspreche, prometo.” She looked deep into your eyes, willing you to understand how deep her vow went. She made the promise to herself in the shower after your first date; her mind kept replaying your almost-kiss, your bubbly laugh and the feel of your soft hand in hers. She had vowed that day to never let your smile fade, and she wanted … no, needed … you to know that.
“Liebe, I know that. They know that.” You reached up to cradle her face in your hands. You took a deep breath and said the words that had been playing on your mind for weeks now: “I love you.”
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
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traveler-at-heart · 5 days
Text
The Doctor's In - Part 5
Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R
Summary: The evolution of your relationship with Wanda. Includes some smut.
Always late. You’ve learned the lesson, so you don’t even bother with the coffee, because it’s cold by the time you leave the house.
Of course, you didn’t have time to do groceries either so you’re stuck with an almost rotten banana.
As you leave the house, Wanda opens up the door of her own home, calling for the twins.
You smile, while she signals for you to walk over.
“Hey, beautiful” you say, admiring her outfit. You know she has a meeting with her editor. “All ready for today?”
“Yeah, it’s just the kids are late. Boys, come on” she turns back to you, smiling. “Here. I packed you lunch”
“How did you know I have nothing edible?” you swoon, taking the brown paper bag, and leaning to kiss her. She hums against your lips and you feel her little smile. “You’re out of this world, Miss Maximoff”
Wanda wants to prolong the contact, but hears the kids stomping down the stairs and you break apart. Yes, you’ve spent more time with them, basically whenever you’re off work. But there hasn’t been the awkward “what are we” talk and the subsequent chat of how to tell Billy and Tommy. If there’s anything to tell, that is.
“Hey, Y/N” Billy says, throwing his bagpack in the trunk of the car.
“Are you coming for dinner tonight? We just defeated Rypto!” Tommy says excitedly.
“I have to work for the next day and a half, but after that, sure”
The boys nod, disappointed and Wanda rolls her eyes.
“I’m a little jealous of how much they like you. Seems like I’m their second favorite person now” she says in a low voice, your eyes traveling to her lips.
“You are my favorite person, in case that helps” you admit, making her blush.
“Have a good day” Wanda says, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to kiss her.
“Text you later” you promise, squeezing her hand and walking to your own car, hoping your shift goes by soon, eager to have Wanda in your arms again.
The day starts normal enough. It’s more paperwork than consults or any emergency, but you still make your rounds and review the pending discharged patients.
For once, you get to have lunch at a decent time, eager to eat whatever it is Wanda made for you.
There’s a chicken sandwich, from yesterday’s leftovers of that heavenly paprikash dish she made, a couple of cookies and a note.
“Have a nice day. XOXO - W”
“Where’d you get those cookies?” Darcy says, approaching you. Holding the container close to your chest, you growl at her. “No, bad Cujo!”
In spite of your best efforts, she snatches one of the cookies.
“These are fantastic cookies”
“Wanda made them”
“Oh, did Mommy pack you lunch?” Darcy says in a fake baby voice and you glare.
“Keep that up and I’m not sharing any more cookies, Lewis”
“I was kidding. I love you, friend” she bats her eyelashes, sitting next to you. “So, is the sex better than the baked goods?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t done it yet” you admit, avoiding her eyes.
“Because…”
“Because the kids are always around or I’m too tired… I don’t know. We’re just spending time together and seeing where it goes”
“And how does that make you feel?” Darcy says, reaching for another cookie.
“It’s fine… but I guess it’s all new to me. I dated in college, but ever since I started working here all I do is be at the hospital… and be with people from the hospital”
“And now you’re in this potential relationship, where she has two kids. Talk about going from 0 to 100” Darcy pats your back and you nod. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N. All you have to do is talk it out”
“Thanks, Darcy. Here, you earned half of the last cookie”
“Half? That was solid advice” she mumbles, chewing on it.
You laugh, promising you’ll share more cookies the next time Wanda makes some. She leaves to supervise a resident doing an appy, and you go back to the ER.
“Help! Someone!” you see a paramedic with blood all over his shirt.
“Drax, what’s wrong?”
“Peter was turning around the corner, after dropping someone off and a car crashed against the ambulance”
“Ok, let’s go. Bishop, you’re with me. Page Chief Fury” you ask a nurse, the young resident following you closely.
As soon as you turn around the block, you spot the ambulance and make out Quill’s body, hanging upside down.
“Bring stretchers for the other driver and his passenger” you tell Kate. With a sigh, you kneel next to the ambulance, crawling between broken glass. You notice a sharp pain in your elbow, but lean forward until you’re touching Quill’s neck, looking for a pulse.
As soon as you touch him, he jolts awake, screaming.
“Ah, Jesus, Quill” you curse, hitting your head against the dashboard.
“What happened?” he looks around, disoriented.
“Someone crashed into you. Do you feel anything strange?”
“I can’t feel my legs” he says, looking at you. You gulp, not knowing what to say.
Peter is your friend, even if you only see each other at work. He’s the guy that shares his snacks, that cracks a joke when you’re down just to make you laugh. A man that you’ve known for three years, and now you have to tell him he might not make it.
“What do we got?” Fury shows up on the other side.
“Just hanging” Quill jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to even smile. “I can’t breath, there’s pressure in my chest”
“Hold on tight, the firemen are on their way to get you out” Fury asks, signaling for you to meet him around the ambulance while Kate takes his vitals.
“What do you think?”
“It’s not good” you admit in a low voice. “He can’t feel his legs, but I also can’t see anything below his chest. I don’t know what will happen if we move him, Chief”
“But if we don’t…”
“He’s going to die”
“Let’s take care of the pressure on his chest first”
“Should we page cardio?”
“If you can handle it, go ahead. Quill works with you, he trusts you”
You nod, running back to the hospital to get everything you need to treat Quill’s cardiac tamponade. By the time you’re back, Kate is trying to keep him awake.
“He has low blood pressure”
“Come on, Quill, stay with me” you ask, preparing everything. You unbutton his shirt, gloved fingers trying to sense the exact spot to extract the liquid on his chest. It takes you a moment because he is upside down, but you get it and pull the syringe, filling up with dark fluid.
You and Kate sigh with relief as Quill gasps for air, opening his eyes.
“Did I die for a second?” he says, coughing. “Doc, I need you to tell something to Gamora”
“Quill, tell her yourself when you’re out of here” you try to ignore the request, avoiding the conversation.
“Just tell her to look on my old cassettes, please. She needs to know I did get a ring”
A ring. Fuck. You lock eyes and nod.
“Firemen are here” Kate says, waving at the men.
“Clint Barton” the man introduces himself, assessing the mess around Quill. “We’ll do everything we can to help him” he promises, and you nod.
As they begin to work, you go back next to Quill, trying to distract him.
“Got any music?”
“Sure” you pull out your phone, handing it over so he can play whatever he wants.
Come and get your love starts playing and you both sing. Three more songs pass before Barton lets you know they are ready to release him.
“Bishop and Drax, ready with the stretcher” you say, the other paramedic getting ready to drag Peter’s body out as soon as he can.
"Hold on. Promise me you'll tell her" Quill says again and you nod.
“3… 2…”
There’s a loud, metallic bang and then Quill’s body falls forward. It all happens in seconds and by the time you walk around the ambulance, Drax is wheeling him to the ER.
For a split second, you think he’s going to be fine because he’s consciouss, looking around.
And then his mouth is full of blood, choking sounds mixing with the noises of the hospital.
“Crash cart” you ask, starting CPR.
“Charge to 200” Fury asks, and you step aside when it’s time.
“I need a round of Epi” you say, urgency in your voice.
Charge, clear, another round.
You’re at it for ten minutes, and you can’t feel your arms, or hear anything else other than the continuous beep of the monitor. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead, but you keep doing CPR.
Just five more minutes.
“That’s enough” Fury says, pushing you aside. “Call it”
“No, Sir”
“Doctor Y/L/N, step away from the patient” he says, his voice booming across the room. You shake your head no, and then turn to the monitor, hoping something changes.
“He was going to propose to his girlfriend. He has to make it. Come on, come on, come on” you mutter.
Fury stands next to you, a soft look on his face.
“He’s gone, Y/N. I’m sorry”
You break down, tears rolling down your face and mixing with the sweat.
Sitting on the hallway, you catch your breath, unaware of the blood dripping from your elbow until Darcy rushes to your side.
“Hey, let’s clean that up, ok?” she says, helping you up.
“What can I do?” Carol approaches, noticing how your eyes are unfocused.
“I think we should call Wanda” Darcy suggests.
“Her phone number should be on Billy’s record, I’ll go get it” Carol nods.
You don’t even react to Darcy as she cleans up the wound, or when she mentions you’ll need a few stitches. She could have done it without the anesthesia and you wouldn’t have noticed.
“Thanks” you say when she’s cleaning up, and the woman leans forward, squeezing your hand.
“Don’t mention it”
Wanda recognises the hospital’s number and picks up, expecting everything except Carol’s voice.
“Hello, Doctor Danvers” she says, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Hi, Wanda. It’s about Y/N”
Carol didn’t have to tell her twice. Wanda drives from her editor’s office to the hospital in record time. She notices an ambulance and a fire truck; her heart beats faster at the sight of blood, hoping it’s not yours.
“Wanda?” a short brunette with glasses greets the woman. “Darcy Lewis, come with me”
“Is she hurt?” Wanda asks, getting more worried as Darcy leads her through the staff door.
“Only a cut in her arm. She’s just… shaken” Darcy stops at the door. “One of the paramedics died”
“I’m sorry to hear that”
“Chief Fury said she should go home, we just didn’t want her to be alone”
Darcy finally opens the door, Wanda’s heart breaking at the sight before her.
You’re sitting on the floor, head hanging in defeat between your hands. She can see your fingers threading through the loose hairs of your ponytail, something you do when you’re anxious.
“Y/N” she kneels slowly, and you look up, wiping your tears. “It’s ok. I’m here”
“I’m sorry” you say, and you’re not sure what is it you’re apologizing for.
“None of that, my love. Come on” she takes your hand, helping you up.
Before leaving the room, you take Darcy’s hand, smiling.
“Thank you, Darcy”
“Get some rest, pal” she says, as Wanda leads you back to her car.
“Let’s go home” Wanda says against your temple, kissing the spot softly.
You don’t say a word during the entire drive, looking out the window. Wanda’s car stops and with it, the radio. The silence finally snaps you out of your thoughts.
“Sorry for the trouble, I hope I didn’t interrupt your meeting”
“It’s fine. Do you…”
“Thanks for the ride” you say, exiting the car. You’re about to walk to your house when Wanda goes after you.
“You can come over. It’s ok”
“I need to shower” you notice how dirty you feel, blood staining parts of your arms and pants.
“Take a shower in my bathroom, and I’ll lend you some clothes”
“You sure?”
“Yes, darling. Now, come on”
You allow her to guide you upstairs, stepping foot in her room for the first time. Wanda leads you to the ensuite bathroom, handing you a towel.
“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed, ok?”
All you do is nod, and she wishes there was more she could do, but she just silently retreats, giving you space.
The pressure of the water is nice and you feel infinitely better when you step out of the shower, noticing the stitches on your arm with a frown.
“Everything good?” Wanda says as you go down the steps. You nod and she tries to smile. “Did you eat anything? I could prepare something…”
Her words are interrupted by your lips. It’s a short kiss, but you hope it can speak for itself.
“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, eyes closed. Allowing her scent to ground you, you breathe.
“What can I do?” Wanda asks, her hands over yours.
“Can we watch tv?”
“Come here” she smiles, taking your hand. She sits on the couch, motioning for you to lay your head on her lap. You’re not really paying attention to the show, but the way she runs her fingers through your hair relaxes you, and you drift off, fast asleep.
By the time you wake up, Wanda is on top of you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck. You smile, appreciating how peaceful she looks. She must sense you staring, because she stirrs awake, yawning.
“Hi” she says, looking around. You smile, your hands going to her lower back, and something shifts inside you. You’re not thinking at all, just acting on your feelings as you take her lips in yours, your tongue asking for permission. Wanda moans and you pull her closer, one of your hands holding her in place while you kiss down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse until her bra is exposed.
“Y/N” she stutters, and you hum against her neck. Wanda forgets what she was about to say when she feels you sucking on the skin, sure that you will leave a mark. When you place your leg between hers, creating friction she gets lost again, until you speed up.
“What’s wrong?” you say, when she stands up, fixing her hair.
“The kids… uh, I should…”
“Wanda” you plead, looking sadly at her. “Did I do something?”
“No, it’s not you, I…”
“Please talk to me”
Wanda breaths, hoping what she’s about to say won’t push you away.
“I can’t… I feel too much, Y/N. If we do this, if we sleep together, there’s no turning back. Because everyday, I fall in love with you even more. And I’m scared that you’re not going to feel the same”
It’s so stupid of her, to fall in love. You never spoke about the future or expectations. She doesn’t even know if you want kids or marriage, and she comes with two children who are wonderful, but a huge committment.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, please” she starts to ramble again, misinterpreting your silence. “Maybe we should…”
You lean forward, stopping her with a kiss.
“I love you” you say against her lips. As soon as she hears the words, her eyes open.  “Everything about you, everything about the boys you raised and who are so kind and wonderful because they’re like you, Wanda”
“You… I love you too” she laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. She feels relief, happiness, amazement. You kiss the spot where the tear is, leaning your forehead against her temple.
“All these years I’ve been alone and I didn’t realise how lonely it felt until you. I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry”
“It’s ok. I love you” she repeats over and over again, her lips against yours. You smile into the kiss, happy that she feels the same.
After a few minutes of kissing and hugging, she pulls apart, sighing.
“We need to tell the kids” she says. Well, that’s certainly not your area of expertise.
“How do you want to do it?”
“Let’s take them out for pizza and just explain everything? They’ll get distracted with the food” Wanda laughs and you nod.
“Alright. That’s a plan” you kiss her again, but your eyes drift down, her blouse still undone.
“Behave” she warns, sitting up.
“Can you blame me?” you sigh, admiring how beautiful she looks.
“Come on, let’s get the boys from soccer practice” she offers her hand and you take it, smiling.
When you leave the house, the sight of your empty driveway reminds you your car is still in the hospital. You have a promise to keep about a certain ring.
“Everything ok?” Wanda says when you stay silent.
“Yeah, I just gotta do some stuff later”
“Ok”
The boys are ecstatic when they see you climb out of the car, running towards you.
“Mom, we have a match next Friday, can Y/N come?” Tommy says as they put their bags in the trunk.
“If she doesn’t have work, sure” Wanda smiles, taking a breath. Understanding that it’s time, you stand next to her, fidgeting with your hands. “Boys, there’s something we want to tell you. Y/N and I are… together”
“How is that?” Billy tilts his head. “Like a girlfriend?”
“Yes, that would be it” Wanda nods, not knowing what else to say. You step in, kneeling so you can look at Tommy and Billy.
“Hey, kiddos. I just want you to know I love you both very much and I love your mom as well. All I want is to take care of you and make her happy. But if you feel weird about it, or you have questions just tell us, ok? Your Mom’s priority will always be you two”
The boys take a second to think and then nod, laughing when you ruffle their hair. Wanda takes your hand, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.
“Are we going to have a new baby, then?”
“What?” you turn so fast you almost lose your footing.
“Sally said that’s how babies are made and you’re holding hands right now” Tommy explains.
“Oh, that’s not how babies are made” you laugh it off, in spite of Wanda’s warning glare.
“How are babies made, then?” Billy says and you go pale.
Yeap, walked right into that one. Wanda seems to be unwilling to help, as she tried to stop you.
“Who wants pizza?” you say, the kids forgetting about their question and running to the car. “That was the most stressful moment of my life and I’m a trauma surgeon”
You collapse in Wanda’s arms, breathing out.
“Come on, drama queen” she laughs, kissing your temple. “Let’s get some food, and maybe later you can show me how babies are made?”
“Mmhm” you nod, your brain turning to mush. “Tease”
“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” Wanda speaks and you’re half listening, as if her words are from a distant dream.
“Sure” you say against her skin, kissing and licking the column of her neck. She holds on to your shoulders as you go down, and you feel her shake in your lap.
“Wait. I’m asking for a reason”
“Ok” you nod, breaking apart.
“Would you like to do something after the game?” Wanda says and you wonder why she’s so nervous.
“Yeah, like take them to the movies?”
“No, the boys will be at a sleepover. I meant you and me”
“Oh” you say, heart beating faster at the implication. You’ll have the house to yourselves for the first time since you started dating.
“I can make dinner and we’ll stay in” Wanda offers.
“You’re always making dinner, baby”
“It’s just pasta, the easiest thing in the world”
“I wouldn’t know, I’m a terrible cook” you smile against her lips. “My offer for a dinner date somewhere nice stands”
“You can bring a fancy bottle of wine and dessert” she offers.
“I can think of a few things for dessert” you blurt out, eyes going down her body.
The way her eyes darken tells you she got the hint, so you change positions, you on top of her as she giggles.
“I love you” you kiss her, but your pager interrupts you. “And I have to go”
“You sure you have to go?” she asks, her legs around your waist. You’re questioning your choices when the pager goes off again. “Ok, never mind”
“Sorry, love” you kiss her before standing up, admiring how beautiful she looks with those kiss swollen lips.
As soon as you arrive at the hospital, you’re running around between patients and emergencies.
“Hey, pal. No lunch today?” Darcy says when you meet at the cafeteria.
“No, had to leave in a rush” you carry your tray to a nearby table, sitting with your friend.
“Did you tell Peter’s girlfriend?” she asks.
“At the funeral, yeah. Figured it might be better if she had her friends and sister around for support” you sigh, still shaken about what happened earlier in the week.
It was the worst feeling, being in the ER and seeing an ambulance arrive, thinking Quill might come down and tell you a joke or ask about your day, only to remember he was gone.
“Thank you for calling Wanda, by the way”
“Carol did” Darcy says and you choke on your soda, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, they were both playing nice”
“Right, well, I’ll thank her later”
“We want cookies, and by we, I mean me” she demands.
“I’ll see what I can do” you say, eating your burger with a smile. The minute Wanda knows Darcy loves her baked goods she’ll never stop sending her some, that’s how amazing she is.
After eating, Darcy and you find an on-call room to chill, each one in a bed.
Wanda: I’m at the mall.
Y/N: What are you getting, baby?
Wanda: Stuff
Wanda: Which one is better? Red or white?
You frown, not knowing if she’s refering to something in particular. And then she sends two pictures of lingerie sets, making you drop your phone in your face.
“Ew, are you sexting?” Darcy says, laughing as you rub the spot where your phone hit you.
“No. Gotta prep for surgery” you say, leaving in a hurry.
“Freak!” she shouts as you close the door.
Y/N: Both are… wow.
Y/N: But red. Definitely red.
You’re eager to get a reply, but you have a surgery to do.
While in the OR, you briefly forget about your conversation, teaching Kate how to do the procedure.
“Whose phone is ringing?” you say, after several notifications.
“That’s yours, Doc”
“Oh, sorry everyone” you laugh. “Kate, can you check what it is?”
The woman nods, reading from the previews in the lock screen.
“It says “Just got it”, a couple of pictures, and can’t wait for you to…”
“Aaah, that’s enough. Thank you, Doctor Bishop” you say, blushing. “Come back so you can watch the next part of the procedure”
When you finally get to see the photos she sent you’re about to call a crash cart for yourself.
You keep staring at the pictures revealing just a little bit of the top of the set on Wanda’s body.
This is the best day of your life.
You’re even tempted to just meet her at the soccer game and take her back to your car.
But, when the time comes, you behave, parking around the field and waving at the boys, who are warming up.
“Hey, you made it…” Wanda greets, looking adorable with a baseball cap and her hair lose. You don’t let her finish, crashing your lips against hers, hands on her waist.
“Tease” you say with a smile and she laughs.
“Come on, let’s sit over here”
She points to a bench that is under the shade of a tree. Most of the crowd in the field are other moms, cheering for their children.
“Wow, Tommy’s really fast” you say, watching as the kid sprints to get the ball. “Come on!”
You lift Wanda in the air as he scores a goal, yelling like he just won the World Cup.
“Did you see that? He was amazing! Two kids were after him and he managed to get past their defense” you say, standing up and approaching the edge of the field. Wanda laughs at how invested you become in the game, shouting your suggestions to the kids or cheering them on when they get the ball.
Coach Hill notices the new face among the crowd, appreciating the level of committment. Unlike other parents, you seem to know a thing or two about the sport.
As the game is about to end, one kid kicks the ball a little too hard, bouncing on another boy’s head. Everyone gasps and you run to the field.
“Hey, it’s ok” you calm him down as he touches the place where the ball hit him. “What’s your name?”
“Will”
“Will, hi. I’m Y/N”
“Excuse me” a woman kneels next to you. “That’s my son”
“Can I check him? I’m a doctor” you say, trying to ease her nerves.
“Ok”
You nod, helping him up and walking to the bleachers. Kneeling to be at eye level, you check his pupils, and ask him to follow your finger.
“Will, what day is today?”
“Friday”
“Can you repeat after me? Today is a sunny day”
“Today is a sunny day” he says without difficulty.
“And what are you gonna ask your mom for dinner? Because I’m pretty sure she’ll get you anything you want right now”
“McDonald’s!”
You laugh, standing up and turning to his mother.
“He’s fine, just ice the place where he got hit. If he’s nauseous or dizzy, take him to the doctor as soon as possible”
“Thank you so much…”
“Y/N” you offer your hand, and she takes it, making the contact last a little longer.
“Y/N. Could I have your phone number? Just in case I have questions” she says, hand going to squeeze your forearm.
“Sharon, I’m so happy Will is ok” Wanda comes to the rescue, her hand around your arm. “Lucky for you my girlfriend was here”
You smile at the word girlfriend, feeling like a teenager.
“Oh, you two?” Sharon says, gaping. Wanda smiles, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Right! I should take Will home, he needs to rest”
“Ok, you do that. Feel better, sweetheart” Wanda waves at the boy, and then turns to you. “I hate Sharon”
“Don’t be jealous”
“I’m not!” she says too quickly for your liking. You smile and she rolls her eyes. “I have to find the boys, don’t get into more trouble”
“I won’t” you promise, smiling because Wanda is in fact, very jealous. You’re watching her walk away -and admiring how good she looks in a pair of jeans- when someone speaks behind you.
“Very impressive. I’m Coach Hill” the woman introduces herself and you give her your name. “Nice to see some new faces here. Especially people who know the game”
“Oh, I just watch the Women’s World Cup, that’s all”
“It’s better than the men’s” Maria says and you laugh, agreeing. “Would you be interested in helping out? Most parents just want to bring food to fundraising events, but it would be nice to have an assistant coach who also knows first aid”
You blink a few times, watching as Wanda approaches, walking behind Maria.
“Oh, well…”
“We could talk it over dinner”
Too late. Wanda tilts her head in that way that makes her look so dangerous (and hot)
“Y/N works so many hours, I’m not sure she has the bandwith. I can barely get her to myself most days, right baby?” she kisses your cheek, making you blush.
“Yeah, long hours at the hospital”
“My offer stands” the coach says, not backing out from a challenge. You wait until she’s away to turn to Wanda.
“Babe, I didn’t do anything! I promise I was just standing here…”
“There’s something you should know about me” Wanda interrupts, whispering hotly against your ear. “I don’t like to share”
“I…” you stutter when she looks into your eyes. Wanda holds your chin with her thumb and index finger.
“Is that understood?”
“Y-yes”
“Good girl” she smiles, kissing you, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip.
You have a dumb expression as she walks to her car.
“See you at home” she says, making sure everyone in the parking lot hears her.
You blush as Sharon eyes you with a smirk, and you sprint to your car before anyone else gets any crazy ideas. 
When you get home, Wanda is helping the kids set up their overnight bags while they shower.
“Can you drive them to their friend’s house? I have to do a couple of things here. You can take my car”
“Sure. I’ll shower and come back”
To your surprise, they’re both excited about the sleepover. You vividly remember hating those and your mom had to pick you up in the middle of the night more than once.
“Be good, ok? I’ll come get you tomorrow” Wanda asks. You check your phone for the address, noticing it’s a short distance.
“Are you and mom having a sleepover too?” Billy says and you smile.
“Yeah, we’ll probably watch movies and eat lots of candy” you joke, trying not to think about Wanda in lingerie. Not while you’re driving her children and your brain can malfunction in the middle of the road.
“I hope she doesn’t get sad because we’re gone” Tommy says as you wait for their friend to open up the door.
“I’ll take care of her for you. You just worry about having fun”
“Ok” they both nod, and you raise your hands for a high five.
On the way back, you get the wine and some tiramisu from a nice bakery downtown, thinking Wanda might appreciate the time alone to finish her errands.
After stopping at the gas station to fill up her tank, you head back, parking in her driveway and taking the stuff you bought inside.
“I’m back” you say, but are met with silence as you close the door. “Wanda?”
Slightly worried, you go up the stairs, making sure she knows you’re coming.
“Go ahead” she says as you knock on her door.
“Hey, you ok?” you say, stopping as soon as you take in the view before you.
Wanda, sitting at the edge of her bed, wearing the lingerie set she showed you before. The bed has rose petals scattered, and there are some candles lighting up the room.
“Is this too much? I just wanted it to be special” she says, standing up. You take a step forward, and the only thing you can do is kneel, admiring every inch of skin on display.
Wanda gasps, anticipation building up as she watches you run your hands up and down her thighs.
“I knew I was gonna have the best meal of my life tonight” you say, kissing her legs. She holds your shoulders as her knees shake, squeezing harder when your nose nudges her center, eager to taste her.
“Bed” is her only command and you nod, lifting her up in your arms and carrying her the short distance. You try to set her down gently, but she pulls you roughly as soon as her back hits the mattress.
When Wanda moves further down, she groans.
“Ouch, ouch, my ass”
“Your ass is great, baby”
“No” she protests, and you don’t know if she’s laughing or crying. “I have a thorn in my butt. I guess I didn’t remove all of them from the roses”
“Turn around” you ask, inspecting every inch of her delicious behind. “Ah, here it is. This will hurt a bit”
“Son of a bitch” Wanda says as you pull it out. You hold back a laugh, but can’t help yourself when she screams into a pillow. Annoyed at your mood, she throws it blindly behind her, completely missing.
“Babe, it’s ok. Just lay on your stomach for a bit and the pain will pass soon”
“I wanted this to be romantic. There’s nothing romantic about a thorny butt”
“Well, I don’t mind the view” you admit, enjoying how the position is accentuating the curve of her lower back, and the skimpy underwear allows you to admire her ass.
“You’re just trying to make me feel better” she mumbles against the duvet.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you ask, hovering over her, kissing behind her ear, down her neck and the space between her shoulders.
“I suppose not” she admits, holding back a moan.
“Let me take care of you, baby” you say, kissing and licking your way down her body. As you go further down, you kiss the inside of her thighs, around her center and anywhere but the place she needs the most.
Wanda enjoys a little too much the anticipation, her position keeping her from watching your next move. She grabs another pillow, hoping to squeeze it hard enough to keep her from screaming.
“Don’t hold back” you tsk, pushing her underwear aside and moaning at the view in front of you. She’s so wet and ready and how you wished you had some of the toys you enjoy using so much, just to stretch her. But for now, all you need is to taste her, so you dart your tongue out, small licks flicking the bundle of nerves until Wanda whimpers, moving her hips against your face, begging for more.
You hold her hips in place, and give in to her silent request, going deeper and licking up and down, enjoying how erratic her movements get when she’s close to the edge.
“Don’t stop” she pleads when you crawl back up, kissing her back, leaving some of her juices glistening on her beautiful skin.
“Baby, I want to ask you something” you whisper in her ear. “Do you ever touch yourself?”
“I…” she tries to create some friction with her legs.
“Answer me”
“Yes”
“Do you use any toys?” you ask, one of your hands traveling to her center, rubbing gently.
“Yes” she says, this time a little out of breath.
“Want to use one right now?”
“I just want you” she pleads, burying her face between her arms, flushed and taken aback by her own desire.
“You’re doing so good for me. If it’s too much just tell me, promise?”
“Mhm” she nods, her breathing getting faster as she feels your hands pulling down her underwear, the cold air hitting her pussy.
“God, you’re so hot” you say, your thumb going down to gently tease her clit, suspecting Wanda was too sensitive.
After a few minutes of massaging her clit, she begins to sigh and moan, moving her hips. It doesn’t take long for her to ask exactly what she wants.
“More, please”
“Is this ok?” you say, teasing her entrance with one of your fingers. Wanda doesn’t answer, moaning and panting instead. “Lift your legs a little bit for me, can you do that?”
Wanda nods, spreading her legs and leaning on her knees so her ass is slightly elevated. You lay on your back, allowing her to straddle your face and leaving enough room to finger her.
“You taste amazing” you say, pulling her down so she’s almost sitting on your face. You hear Wanda moan, but you’re too focused on the slick that’s dripping down her cunt and all over your chin.
When you feel like she’s ready, you begin to massage her clit, while two of your fingers are swallowed by her pussy. She’s tight, but seems to enjoy it, moaning loudly when you move inside of her.
“Yes, fuck, please keep going” Wanda says, moving her hips faster.
“Look at you, so full and ready. Can’t wait to fuck you with my dick” you say, getting wet at the idea.
“I’m so close” she mumbles, and you feel her pussy clenching around your fingers, making it hard for you to move.
Wanda switches positions when she moves, making you go deeper and you know you’re hitting the right spot when she cries, holding on to the duvet and crying out as she comes around your fingers and your mouth.
You keep her in place, enjoying the feeling of her cunt pulsing around your fingers. Waiting until she relaxes, you pull out, smiling as she complains.
You climb back up, laying next to her. Wanda’s eyes are closed, her breathing erratic as she comes down from her high. Once she opens her eyes, you smile.
“Hey, gorgeous”
“That was…”
“Mhm” you nod, kissing her so she can taste herself. “Told you, just let me take care of you”
“Give me a second and I can… we can do it again. You haven’t come…”
“I’m fine” you shake your head. “That was extremely hot and your pleasure is mine. Just take your time”
“I love you” she says, kissing you once again, her mind still foggy from the orgasm.
“I love you too” you smile against her lips, eager to worship every inch of her body and show her how much more she can feel.
Light seeps through curtains and you open your eyes, looking around. Wanda’s scent is in the sheets, the pillows and the air around you.
Sadly, she’s missing from the bed and you stretch, ready to look for her and talk her into coming back.
Your button up shirt is nowhere to be found, so you take the tank top that was discared the night before and go down the stairs.
The sight that greets you is heavenly.
Wanda is humming along a Sinatra song, pouring some pancake mix in a pan. What makes it so special is how she’s wearing your shirt, that is obviously too big on her.
You’re not sure if she’s wearing panties underneath that, but you’re eager to find out.
“You scared me” she laughs when she feels you against her back.
“And you weren’t in bed when I woke up” you say, kissing her neck.
“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast”
“I am hungry” you mutter against her skin, moving her hair aside to get better access.
“Oh” she says, leaning against you. You make her walk back all the way to the kitchen counter, switching your bodies so she’s in front of you.
As you kiss her lips, your hand goes down her body, checking that she is in fact wearing underwear.
“Mmm, you’re overdressed” you say, pulling them down.
“What are you doing?” Wanda stutters, feeling your fingers teasing softly against her entrance.
“Want me to stop?”
“No. I just don’t want the pancakes to burn” she moans and stutters as you gather some of her slick in your digits.
“I better hurry, then” you say, kneeling before her.
Not wasting any time, you start eating her out like it’s your last meal, tongue flattening against her pussy. Wanda pulls your hair, riding your face and reaching back to hold herself steady against the counter.
“You’re just so fucking delicious” you say, desperate to feel more, placing one of her legs over your shoulder to get better access.  As you dive in again, Wanda holds on to your shoulders and pulls your hair, too lost in her pleasure. Your tongue moves in circles around her clit, and you let her ride your face as her orgasm approaches, until Wanda is moaning and panting, finishing with a whine.
“So good for me” you say, standing up and holding her in your arms as she leans against you, her legs unsteady after coming so hard. “All good, baby?”
“More than good” she says, her head lifting to look into your eyes, and you share a lazy kiss, Wanda moaning as she tastes herself. “I love you”
“Love you too” you say, kissing her nose.
“Still hungry?”
“I could definitely have some of those delicious pancakes”
“Coming right up” she says, walking back to the stove. You look at the sway of her hips and spank her, unable to help yourself.
“Amazing” you sigh after the first bite.
“Did you sleep ok?”
“Yeah, I can sleep anywhere and nothing will wake me up, except the sound of my pager. It’s like a Pavlovian response”
“Glad to hear that” she smiles, and you decide to tease her a little bit.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing because you snore”
“I do not”
“Babe, you do” you laugh, and Wanda glares at you. “It’s ok, I think it’s adorable”
She rolls her eyes, and changes the subject. After breakfast, you both go to pick up the twins, and they’re telling you everything they did.
“I hope you didn’t stay up too late” Wanda says.
“We didn’t. But Adam was so loud, he snores. Like you do, Mama” Billy says and you have to hold back your laughter.
“See? I told you you snore” you say when she pinches your arm.
“How do you know my mom snores?” Tommy says, and you blush, the smug gring leaving your face.
“Yeah, Y/N, how do you know?” Wanda says, giggling when you look back at the twins, eager to change the subject.
“We should go to the movies today!”
“Yeah” they agree.
“Well played” Wanda nods, finally getting back home. “Hey, get your bags” she says as the kids try to sneak back home. “That’s more like it”
Billy plops dow on the couch while Tommy greets every piece of furniture. Wanda leans against the doorframe, enjoying the bit and you join her, kissing her temple.
“It’s nice to be home” he says, laying next to his brother.
“Yeah. It is” you agree, looking at Wanda with complete adoration.
You’re both home.
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homunculus-argument · 1 month
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Come to think of it, I really like doing worldbuilding in common misconceptions caused by survivor/sample bias. I got too gleefully into infodumping about worlds I made up, so I'm going to be merciful and throw a cut-off right here:
(damn, you're still reading? Well, that's on you. Here we go.)
In The Book I Am Not Writing, the fisher folk have very strict concepts of ritual purity, being strict about seemingly arbitrary rules of cleanliness, and they simply don't do extramarital relationships. They are, however, polygamous both ways, so consulting the other spouses about introducing another wife or husband into the marriage is always an option. They also seem to have absurdly large flocks of children. Being both an unusual ethnicity who are commonly considered pretty, and also essentially completely off-limits for casual sex, they are often fetishised, and there's a myth that fisher men are so insanely good in bed that their wives simply cannot resist the temptation of their four sexy husbands even if they're otherwise absolutely done getting pregnant all the time.
The truth is a lot more complicated than that. First of all, in the multiple-spouse marriages, all children are raised between all parents and many clans consider it inappropriate to inquire which kids are biologically whose, so if one or two of the partners has fertility issues, nobody from the outside would know. And the seemingly arbitrary purity rules aren't all that random either - many of them actually ensure a higher standard of hygiene than what other cultures around them have. This, and restrictions about marrying within one's own clan to avoid inbreeding, ensure healthier children. They aren't fucking and getting pregnant more than any other peoples, they have more children because of lower infant mortality.
The Travellers are also "outsiders" living in diaspora, who are - as their name implies - itinerant and never stay in one place for long. Not by choice, though many of them will say they'd rather live this way than to ever settle down, but because almost all towns and cities have discriminatory laws explicitly prohibiting Travellers in particular from staying in the city for too long, or limiting how many of them can be allowed within the city walls at the same time. They don't call themselves Travellers, but refuse to tell outsiders what their own language's name is for their own people, out of fear that the name would be appropriated and turned into a slur. Secrecy is the only privacy that they are allowed to have.
An unusually large number of Travellers also have unusual physical traits, dysmorphic structural features, and congenital disabilities. This is used as xenophobic cannon fodder by citizens of the Empire, treated as proof that the Travellers are so morally crooked that it even deforms their bodies. This, of course, is bullshit. In truth, Travellers do not have any more disabled or deformed babies than anyone else - what they do have is a strong culture of NEVER abandoning one of their own. No matter what. So while people of the Empire associate health and beauty with moral goodness, and consider having "imperfect" babies shameful, Travellers simply don't practice the common peoples' common habit of abandoning or discreetly 'disposing' of children who aren't likely to survive into adulthood, or who will need support their entire lives. "What can be done to one of us, they will do to all of us" is how they live, so nobody gets left behind.
On the opposite end of society there are the Baronesses, the Empire's all-female army of trained magic-wielders. A military class, whose inherent magical powers do not even manifest in every child or even every generation, but when it does, it's always on girls. Daughters are trained for combat, they are the ones to carry on the family name. Since a woman does not need to be married in order to be sure that all her children are hers, sons are not particularly valued even as political tokens for arranged marriages. It is considered common knowledge that there's something in "wielder blood" that makes the male carriers of it weak just as it makes the female ones strong, and that is considered the reason why the male members of wielder families tend to be so dysfunctional, emotionally frail, rampant with substance abuse and more likely to die in the womb or in early infancy.
It is politely never questioned how downright convenient it is that it just happens to be the less wanted sex who are far, far more likely to simply perish away for no apparent reason, especially when it comes to the most harsh, highest-ranking, and most competitive wielder families.
Far across the great ocean, on the opposite corner of the map of the world that the Empire knows of, are the Northlands. Almost mythical mystical lands, that are the source of the various types of thick white pelts and some other exotic goods, commonly supposed to be populated by completely wild, savage people. Northmen are all lumped together, as most people of the Empire would find it hard to believe that the Northmen have even one civilised culture, not to speak of consisting of several cultures and creeds with their own languages and customs. The only few Northmen that the Empire has seen have been foreign sailors in port towns, or perhaps someone's unit of rare exotic bodyguards, undoubtedly a weird flex.
Northmen are considered feral, and the "civilised" ones a strange exception to a supposed rule. It is said that they are exclusively carnivores, eating only meat like tigers and drinking only alcohol. That they are nocturnal, with eyes like cats and wolves that gleam in the dark, and that sunlight hurts them. The sun never rises in their lands, so naturally the people are as pale as cave olms, just like the pelts of their animals are all white. And just like cats and wolves, their infants are all born with blind blue eyes, which either stay blue or turn yellow once they grow.
This, too, is a mishmash of myth and half-truth. Northfolk who venture this far south are more likely to eat meat than any fruit or vegetable they are offered, since they are more familiar with what goat or chicken taste like than any fruit of this strange climate. Northland alcohols are generally bitter ales and dry wines, and the sweet liquors and strong wines of Southlands are a treasured luxury for the ones who are familiar with them, and a very fast way to get shitfaced if one isn't. They aren't nocturnal at home, but having no other protection from the relentless sun, they do prefer to move at dusk to avoid getting sunburn. And The Long Night only lasts a few weeks or months, but that's difficult to explain to people whose common language doesn't have words for "snow" or "winter."
There are no Nothfolk with yellow eyes, but blue eyes are very common, and to Southland people to whom both eye colours are unnatural and associated exclusively with beasts and carnivores, they rarely notice that they've never seen a yellow-eyed one. And being born with blue eyes like wolf pups and kittens isn't a myth, that really is a thing that happens to white people.
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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Both Ways at Once Part 1
wc 868, Masterpost
“You’ve read the dossier?”
The clipped words were in time with their quick steps down the pristine white hall.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Unlike you, Hellblazer, I read my contracts before I sign them.”
“You wound me, Pomp,” John said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’m just trying to protect you from the Big Bad Bat. He’s had a bit of a mare over this case. Hell, as a consultant, you shouldn’t even be seeing this with the access level things are at, but…”
“But you’re stuck and need my pretty baby blues on things to help you out,” Danny said, batting his lashes obnoxiously at John.
“Fuck off,” John said without any heat and shoved Danny away. “But the Bat is anxious about it. All the Bats are. If you can help us solve it sooner, then the better, because when the Bats are on edge, everyone is on edge. And it’s a fucking nightmare around here already with all the bloody do-gooders let alone when they’re all worked up about something…”
“Everyone’s on edge, got it.”
“Nightingale,” John said, voice unusually serious— serious enough to make Danny stop even without the hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this lightly. I like you, like you well enough for a psychopomp and whatever the fuck else you are at least. Tread lightly.”
“Got it, Constantine. I’ll work extra hard not to piss anyone off,” Danny said, patting John’s hand with his own tattooed one. Danny picked back up his same quick pace, but his mind now spun trying to figure out what exactly he was walking into. The dossier hadn’t gone into details, just conditions. Supposedly the risk— some side effect created by a villainous magical spell gone wrong— was presently and thoroughly contained. Danny would be able to observe the risk, the individual originally affected, and the items present at the time. He was not to interact directly with the risk, answer it’s questions, or under any circumstance touch it.
It read as a pretty standard contract magical unknown.
John wouldn’t be this concerned by a standard magical unknown. So what was he about to walk into? It seemed like he might actually want to listen to John this time, even if that was always a fifty-fifty chance of being an absurdly stupid idea.
Danny shifted his grip anxiously on the handle of his kit: an old traveling salesman’s briefcase fitted out with a careful collection of haphazard items. Most of the other occult practitioners mocked Danny’s tendency for used items. Half burned candles, old books wiped and rewritten, estate sale candy dishes— odd choices for most people, but for Danny they sang. They spilled the secrets of the world known and unknown to him. He had to trust that between his tools and his skills (let them believe he was a mere psychopomp), he would come out of this at least safe, if not with answers.
Didn’t mean that a few of his tattoos didn’t crawl in warning.
(Who knew what spot of skin that damn ink moth would wander to now.)
“Justice Leaguers,” Danny greeted with a nod as they finally finished winding through repetitive hallways and stopped outside a room.
“Nightingale, thank you for being able to attend to this so promptly,” Wonder Woman greeted him. Of the Justice League members (outside of the Darks) that Danny had interacted with on other consulting gigs she might be Danny’s favorite, so he offered her a smile.
“Of course, it sounded like things were possibly on a time table from the contract, so I’m glad I was between pressing matters,” Danny said. Right then his most pressing matter was a need to find a laundry mat, but the Justice League certainly didn’t need to know that.
“Right, well,” John jumped in when no one else said anything, not that Danny had expected much from Batman with how he was lurking like a shadow. “Er, this way.”
Danny glanced at the room label of ‘containment cells’ as the door unlocked with a clank and hissed open. After John’s warning, he wasn’t surprised that they were taking whatever this was seriously.
There was more white and gleaming metal behind the door. A neat row of spartan cells were set behind thick acrylic glass and metal. Danny’s eyes locked on the figure in the third cell. He stumbled.
He might be sick.
“What the fuck are you all doing?!” The words ripped from Danny in a snarl.
That was a protector spirit.
He brushed past Wonder Woman and through John’s reaching arm.
They had a protector spirit in a cell.
Intangibility washed over Danny, cold as always, as he stepped through the glass wall of the cell.
The spirit stopped in their pacing, the opaque red helmet tilting.
John screamed something at him.
The flashing red of alarms glinted off gleaming surfaces.
Danny reached out and rested his hand over the spirit’s sternum, and they practically crumpled around the touch. Gloved hands clung desperately to Danny’s arm.
A low growl rumbled in Danny’s chest. “They’re hurting you.”
They had a protector spirit in a cell.
How dare they.
----
AN: So, um, yeah. Still sick. Not a cold or allergies at all and not easy to clear up and prob a new life long thing. Which is great. Super cool. I needed more ways to be sick.
But have the start of this thing that I used to take my mind off things! My, what could be going on?? (Also why do I apparently have a tattooed Danny agenda?)
Stay delightful (and well), darlings!
I no longer tag people for various reasons. You can instead be notified by subscribing to the masterpost!
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whispereons · 1 year
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Oracle!Reader Part 14
Masterlist - Part 1, Part 13, Part 15
Warning as usual. There is blood and gore in this chapter!
Staring up at the Archon parading around in human form, you lick your lips and note how even those minor injuries were healed. Your body aches with phantom pain, some wounds healed too rapidly. 
"I don't mind answering some questions, can I get your name first?"
A small smile plays at his lips as his hand is held out in front of you. "My name is Zhongli, I'm the Funeral Parlors consultant. It would be a pleasure to hear yours, outlander."
So he is aware of your origin, well at least partly aware. If he's not going to pull any punches then why should you? Besides if it all goes wrong, you can blame it on the bloodloss that you're still recovering from.
"I'm Y/N, and you're correct that I do not originate from this world. You must not be a normal person either, in fact you look identical to this statue. This one portrays Morax the Geo Archon, but I'm sure you know that, Rex Lapis."
Getting a good look at the statue from your proximity, it was obvious that Zhongli was Morax. You could make the excuse of it being game logic on why no one makes the connection, but that wouldn't work anymore. Maybe the statues are imbued with power that prevents anyone from this world to recognize the similarities?
"So it seems you are more knowledgeable than the traveler was when they arrived here. I should have known considering how the Electro and Geo particles surround you with zeal. Perhaps Teyvat is charmed by the features you share with the Holy One."
His step forward and angled head to look you in the eyes have you staring at glowing amber hues. The red eyeliner and outlined iris make it uncomfortably clear how intensely he's examining you.
"The curve of your lips, a stature so familiar, you resemble the creator so much. Teyvat must be bewitched and awed by an individual so alike as you. If only I could see your face in it's full visage, only then would I know for sure..."
Anyone would feel flattered or embarrassed with how seriously Zhongli studies you, but dread is the only thing you feel. You know that behind those honey-coated words is a trap just waiting for you to spring.
Too bad for him; the last thing you plan to be is predictable.
"My, my what a compliment! A devout and faithful follower like yourself is comparing me to the creator? You should pray for forgiveness to the merciful creator. I'm a servant for them, just in a different league than you. My connection with them is strong enough that Teyvat graces me with qualities alike yet inferior to the Everlasting One."
Zhongli returned to his perfect posture at your words, the flash of envy couldn't hide. "Oh?" Narrowed eyes and a lofty tone that encourages you to smile wider. "And what position could an outsider like you hold?"
"Well, as an Oracle of course! Really, just how dumb are you? An outlander that is incredibly knowledgeable of the Creator? It's painfully obvious." There's no reaction to your test insults, which is fine that wasn't the last you had in store.
"I'm from the world that the Creator is recuperating in. It's due to that, that I can speak to them much more freely than everyone here. Even Teyvat pales in comparison. That's why Teyvat is so attached to me, my aura is overwhelmed by the creators."
Honestly, you had Chongyun to thank for that one. You weren't sure how you were supposed to explain the whole Teyvat clinging to you without sounding repetitive. But if Zhongli was that easily fooled, he wouldn't be one of the victors of the Archon war.
"Then enlighten me on why the glorious creator would need an Oracle of your caliber to spread their word. Surely that's the least you can do." He's fully dropped that faux-polite tone in contrast to the technically proper speech. 
"Gladly! It's become common knowledge that the elemental monsters and animals have started to act strangely. Add in the leylines that change from out of control to perfectly calm in a matter of minutes or weeks. These are all signs of the Creator's upcoming appearance! They need to be sure of who in this vast land they can properly trust."
"That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen. A wily and fresh child like you wouldn't do the best job." Hard like stone, Zhongli refused to even blink at your words. A god like himself would never falter after thousands of years spent perfecting his worship. 
But did he really have to insult you at the same time?
"So you refuse to believe it because of my supposed inability to properly carry out any duties assigned to me? You don't even know all that I had done to arrive here! Surely you should know just how rough the waters were..."
The hand that covers your mouth does a poor job of covering the sly smile. Zhongli stares at you in silence, the wind swaying around the floating chunk of rock that you both stand on.
"Just what are you trying to imply?" His voice is as soft as a whisper but cutting like the sharpest steel.
"Why explain it when I can show it?" Silently rejoicing at such a convenient set up, you peer into your bag and grab the item you've been saving.
Shimmering brightly in the harsh glares of the sun is Beisht's scale, still in pristine condition despite your perilous journey since that day you got it from the sea-leviathan.
It feels like ages ago. Just how much time has passed since you arrived on Teyvat? How much more time will you spend in situations like this? Weeks? Months? YEARS?
The existential dread is quickly pushed away by your beaming smile at Zhongli's reaction to the singular item. The rocky exterior finally breaks at the proof of your 'abilities'. His lips part at the bright teal color and he blinks incredulously at it.
Really, how could you pass up the chance to rub it in?
"Surely a human of my caliber would be capable of this much. I mean, a perfectly intact scale from a leviathan that managed to avoid the whole Qixing that isn't dyed in blood? Child's play for a servant specifically chosen by the Creator. I never doubted the creators' choices!" 
Holding the scale in front of you, you smirk at the man with as much snark as you hold in your heart. "The same can't be said for you, Mr. 'That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen.' Because the Creator is capable of choosing anyone they want, for whatever reason they desire."
Silence envelopes the area as you stare at him, a beat passes with no movement until a gruff chuckle leaves him.
"The more you speak, the closer I come to a conclusion." Recovering quickly, Zhongli's gloved hand rises to tap his mouth contemplatively. "You're either something far worse than I've seen in a long time, or a hope for the Creator's return."
That white outline around his iris seems to spin with the malicious joy that he refuses to show. It's like his body screams that he'll either enjoy your presence or your destruction. Nerves and anxiety grip your heart but ignoring it has always worked better for you.
"Maybe I can say the same thing about you considering your past, but I see you still aren't convinced. And how could I ever let you, one of the longest standing worshippers, have doubts about me? So tell me, were Beisht and her husband devout or sacrilegious beings?"
The answer he'll say is obvious, not only because you hold such a confident stance showing that you know the answer but because of Zhongli himself. A noble dragon that willingly bows to someone would feel ashamed at the thought of resorting to lying to boost his own pride.
Quite ironic how you hold so much trust in his answer due to the acolytes' faith in the creator. The same faith that led you to this position, and the same thing that'll keep you from ever exposing the truth of your identity. A constant force preventing them from meeting their 'beloved' creator.
"You met Beisht in the flesh, there's no doubt that she is solemn and serious in her worship. The same can be said for Osial, it was one of the few things I could agree with the leviathan. Even still, I'm the superior believer. After all, I'm the one who is left after all this time." 
"Yet I met Beisht before you."
The scoff and know-it-all tone he used pricked at your nerves long enough to cause an annoyed response to slip out. Unfortunately, that seems to be what Zhongli was baiting for as he laughs, the low sound making the rock platform tremble.
"That's if you're even an Oracle. You may be from that world and even heard about Teyvat from the Creator, but for all I know, you could have been banished here for us acolytes to execute. Whether it be for avenging the Creator or entertaining them."
Damn, it was almost scary how fast he turned the situation around. But how could you falter now? Getting tongue-tied at such a crucial moment would be a pathetic way to lose your life.
"And what will you do if I truly am an Oracle? When the creator's return is delayed months, years or even decades due to your rash actions, what will you tell the creator when confronted with the consequences of your own actions?"
"Then you should work hard enough to prove to skeptics like myself. To put blind faith in whatever is dubbed the creator's is a fool's belief. Temptation and sin ravage Teyvat from the long drought of the Creator's presence."
For a split second, sorrow clouded his eyes. He's hiding something. It’s important and you can feel it in your soul. The only thing that really stains his and Venti's reputation is their war with Khaenri'ah. It must be connected to that. 
But it's too early to try digging in for information on that. He doesn't even believe you to be the Oracle, how could you possibly get that out of him? What if he's under a contract and must stay silent on the matter?
Lost in his memories, Zhongli doesn't realize how your face pinches in frustration. You'll have to get his approval as the Oracle before you can even- 
Oh.
Oh, why didn't you realize this before?
A grin spreads across your face as you circle in on the heart of the problem and the perfect way to fix it.
It's not that Zhongli doesn't believe you to be the creator's Oracle, he just doesn't want to believe it! He's envious: envious of why a random outlander like you got such a nice position in comparison to him who probably spent most of his life molding himself to the creators standards.
All that's left is to reel him in and you know the perfect way how.
"Prove myself? I've done plenty to prove myself, but what about you?" Mockingly, you tilt your head as your empty gaze peers into Zhongli's eyes, digging deep into him. He focuses back on the conversation at your shift in tone.
"If anyone should have to prove themselves, it should be you." This time it's you who takes the bold step forward. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? And try to keep in that temper too so that I can finish my words. A dragon your age should know such simple things."
"As Morax you were quite powerful, though a brute to be completely honest. Still, you knew your limits well and paired up with the Lord of Dust before the Archon War, who served as the 'brain'. Tell me, just how did it feel when you found her as nothing more than a statue that day?"
Your words have a strong effect on the imposing man, his fist trembling at the mention of such a beloved god, one whose death still pains him. Paying no mind to his pain you ask the monumental question.
"Just how much resentment do you hold against the Creator for her death?"
A hand slams you against the Statue hard enough to bruise your skin. It doesn't squeeze around your throat but there's no need to as the Geo begins to petrify your legs, locking you in place. The Statue is in a constant state of healing in defense to the bruises on your neck.
"Just what are you trying to imply by saying that?" Cold and apathetic is the voice that flows from the stoic man. It's what you would imagine Morax would sound like before Guizhong taught him how to care for humans.
"C'mon, that's the second time you've asked me that. Don't make me speak the obvious-" A shuddering gasp leaves you as he tightens his grip. But it's gone just as fast; a flock of birds tackle Zhongli.
You can only watch in shock as what was only 4 to 5 birds grow to become at least 15 birds of all kinds attacking him. The throbbing of your neck being healed as the Geo instantly releases you is overshadowed by Zhongli swatting at the birds as he takes continuous steps back.
But that's all it took for Zhongli to fall off the edge as the birds flew away cawing happily. Standing and staring at the spot where Zhongli fell off in shock, you begin to chuckle. It grows to a giggle before you're laughing hysterically as you buckle to the ground. Loud peels of laughter ring around the area as you hold your stomach from the ache of laughing so much.
To think Teyvat took the initiative to help you out for once. Why couldn't it do it sooner? Was it only after gaining some power from activating a new nations statue of the seven that it could? You couldn't focus on the question anymore as the look on Zhongli's face when he fell came to mind again.
The sight of his eyes blown wide and a split second of pure panic sent you straight back into a fit of laughter. The ground far below you shakes as a Geo pillar constructs a bridge high enough to reach the stone you sat on. 
The sound of footsteps make you open your eyes and giggle at the sight of a disheveled and annoyed Zhongli. Annoyed is still an improvement compared to his enraged state earlier. With giggles slipping out, you stand back up and laugh louder at his appearance in full view.
His hair was pulled out of his rattail with his earrings nowhere to be seen. Bits and pieces of the weaker cloth of his suit were missing, giving him a poor look that didn't match his flawless posture. The red marks and light cuts only added to the joy you feel at his expense.
"Are you finished laughing, Y/N?"
"For now at least. I would suggest buying a new set of clothes but I don't think you have the mora for it!" Zhongli only lets out a long-suffering sigh as you crack up again.
You would be scolding yourself for not taking the chance to escape while he was away but it was better this way. You didn't need the information about Khaenri'ah, it was nice to know but the information wouldn't help you live.
The main reason you stayed was because running away would prove Zhongli right to be suspicious about you. It would let him know that you're scared and have something to hide. Plus, that would mean having to escape Liyue the same way you did Ei, just in a worse situation.
That's not something you want to repeat.
"Alright I'm done laughing." You say while wiping off the budding tears from the corner of your eyes. Zhongli sends you a look that screams that he doesn't believe you but you shrug it off.
"Really, that question was more of a test if you will. My main job is simply to see who the Creator can trust. Your relationship with the Creator beyond that is between you and them." 
The calm and peaceful tone you use is such a contrast to the one you used earlier that Zhongli is clearly apprehensive. Paying it no mind you continue to speak. 
"If you truly want a reason to at least try and believe me to be the oracle even if you don't fully believe me, then I'll give you one. I'm sure you still have the stone dumbbell from Guizhong that you've never been able to open. I know how to open it."
Those last words have Zhongli staring at you intensely as you gaze off into the distance. The Dragon-Queller tree is visible through the fog with its glowing blue branches and yellow leaves.
"How?" He breathes out, scared to trust but scared to lose this opportunity too.
"It requires a naturally grown glaze lily cultivated by the Creator. That's because it requires a 'pure' glaze lily and the only one who can grow such a thing at this day and age is the Creator. All the natural glaze lilies have died after all."
Zhongli's shoulders slump at your words. It seems he started to let his guard down after he fell off. He must no longer view you as a threat or, at most, an annoyance. That's okay with you, underestimation is the most useful viewpoint they could have for you.
"Should I even make an attempt to ask you why it can only be unlocked with that? You're only telling me this as a last resort to keep you alive, correct? Even if I told you that I would keep you alive without that information, you wouldn't believe me. As childish as you may be, foolishness does not seem to be a quality you hold."
"That may be true, but if you really want an answer to that first question then I'll tell you." You look over to lock eyes with him and smile. It conceals every sneaky and vicious thought you hold. "I have no clue. The Creator instructed me to use it as a last resort, if you want that answer then try praying. Perhaps you'll get an answer."
You would like to know the answer to the stone dumbbell too. After all, you only made up the solution! Seeing as Zhongli spent all these years after Guizhong's death, failing to unlock it, it's a good bet that it'll never open. 
It's silent as you both get lost in your own thoughts. Unlike before it wasn't tense, it was more comparable to the silence you would spend alone in your apartment. The nights you would only be accompanied by the thoughts of the 'what-if' situations. Thoughts that would only stay thoughts just as the past would be just that, the past.
Wanderer learned that the hard way too. You wouldn't let yourself hold so many regrets before your inevitable death. Even in Liyue you weren't truly safe, so wouldn't it be best to speak to Zhongli while you still could?
"I have questions about Khaenri'ah… Well, the better way to put it is that the Creator has questions about them. It's one of the few things that they mourn the most. A whole nation devoted to worshiping solely the creator, destroyed by the Archons that swore their life and loyalty to the creator. So will you explain it to me?"
His eyes fill with the same sorrow you saw in him earlier. It seems you were right in guessing that his line on blindly trusting things labeled with the creator was connected to Khaenri'ah.
"I have spent all my years after that day asking for forgiveness, for some way to atone. It was one of the few contracts that I did not properly balance in equivalent exchange. I regret signing it, not for myself but for my beloved God."
"So it's a no."
"It's an agreement not to speak of it."
"Then don't speak about it." Zhongli seeds you a questioning glance as you mischievously smile at him. "Just listen to my words and don't look away. I'm quite sure nodding and shaking your head doesn't count as breaking your silence."
A huff of amusement leaves him at your solution. His eyes close with his lips curling into a small smile. He nods his head in acceptance, not having the drive to poke holes into your stubbornness.
You were quite confident in the conclusions you've drawn so far. Genshin Impact was nearly the sole reason you were living back on Earth. Family and friends were nonexistent, you had given up hope on making any new connections as well. The only thing you did when you weren't home was work and your work made you be everything but yourself. So combining everything you know from the game with everything of the cult that you've learned thus far shouldn't be too hard.
"When the Archon War broke out, I'm sure most of you were merely looking to keep your people and nation alive. The original design of having the gods powered solely on their people's worship paled in comparison to Celestia's offer of power by obtaining a spot in a group of seven. At the end, you all had a choice. Accept your spot by accepting a Gnosis, or go against them similar to how the Dragon King once did."
Zhongli perks up at the mention of the Dragon King. Not many people know about the original Dragon King. Most people assume it's Azhdaha when in reality, the original was a far greater dragon.
"You all must have been quite against it. The only God you would all bow under would be the Creator who had left before those events to sleep in my world, yet Celestia probably whispered to you all that it was allowed on Teyvat because it was approved by the Creator. That the Gnosis was a reward for all your hard work and as Celestia was the first descender, all of you accepted it.”
The way he begins to stare at you is invasive, like he's just dying to jump you to get every bit of knowledge you hold on the topic. He's starting to suspect you.
"Yet when Khaenri'ah was revealed to exist years afterwards, everything was thrown into confusion. I'm sure you and the other Archons were fine with their presence as Khaenri'ah worshiped the Creator, but was Celestia?" 
A sly smile creeps upon your face at the memory of when it was revealed that Khaenri'ah  wasn't the first civilization to be turned into hilichurls. No one liked Celestia so you had no problem pinning almost all the blame onto it.
"I'm sure they were enraged, especially as Khaenri'ah grew more and more bold with their inventions. Gold in particular was quite dangerous seeing as she not only created life but also Durin and the Golden Wolflord. And even that was unintentional!"
You laugh cheerfully as Zhongli chuckles in surprise at your words. Had you successfully deterred him? Probably not, but he hasn't stopped you so you'll keep going till the end.
"Celestia ordered you all to aid them in destroying Khaenri'ah but you all refused. How could any of you harm a nation so devoted to the creator even if they refused to worship Celestia or the Seven? But that Gnosis you all accepted comes with a price. A price that serves as leverage and a control device."
The thoughts of what Beisht told you on how Celestia had caused them to forget the original way of worship resurfaced. Celestia was just too suspicious for that to be the only thing they had done. It would take a lot more than that to force the Archons to listen to them.
"That Gnosis was like a drug. It gave you all so much power, tasting and making you feel like you're on top of the world! Just for it to come crashing down when the unpleasant side effects hit you. It corrupted you all like poison forcing you to wage war against Khaenri'ah. My best bet is that it was like mind control. What do you say?"
He looks at you with a blank expression, as if trying to see the secrets you hid in your soul through your eyes. But there's no response from him, not even the occasional nods that he was giving before.
"Well if it was mind control, perhaps it made you believe that Khaenri'ah had plans to overrule the Creator and create their own human god. Or maybe it made them out to be traitors to the creator. Perhaps both? That doesn't really matter, what does matter is that only after the war was in full throttle were you all brought back to your senses."
You didn't have any proof of that last part, it just seemed like something Celestia would do. Not only to prove their superiority but also force the Archons to put their best effort in defeating the people of Khaenri'ah to save their nations.
"After the war ended, you all wanted to get rid of it but Celestia wouldn't allow such a thing. Even if you most likely tried to find some loophole, Celestia doesn't play nice. It would make sense if they threatened to give a punishment similar to what they had done to Khaenri'ah. So long as none of you destroy or throw it away, they'll leave you all be,”
Venti was a god, no matter what fans said, there was no way he would lose to Signora. It made more sense if that was his way of 'handing' it over to the Tsaritsa. There was also Nahida who threatened to break her Gnosis to one-up Dottore. That was always funny, you would kill to have witnessed that in person. 
"Of course none of you would actually use it or even desire it in your vicinity. Everyone wins when the Tsaritsa uses her various methods to acquire the gnosis'. And thanks to the traveler appearing during that time, Celestia was probably too busy freaking out over that to pay too much attention. For a while at least."
Finally looking back to Zhongli, you smiled proudly. "I must be pretty close right? At no point did you laugh at me like you did with Alice so I'll take that as a good sign. And even if I'm wrong, everything will be solved when the Creator descends."
Stretching to loosen the tension in your back, you applaud yourself for the brilliant thinking. It's not like anyone can actually fake gold blood for long when even hair dye didn't exist yet. You're basically leaving all these loose ends to the you that would be believed to be the Creator. Which is never going to happen!
"Would the Creator scorn me for asking you once again if you're truly an oracle?"
"I'm sure the glorious creator would be fully justified in doing so, but I'll scorn you in their stead.. And don't get it twisted, it's not because of your feelings concerning Guizhong's death. It's how you, by your own negligence, offended the Creator!"
An utterly baffled expression paints his face at your accusation. Unrelenting, you point your finger at him with a serious face that you haven't shown him till now.
"Did you really believe that the creator wouldn't realize? Just how little you changed from that brute of a dragon that saw humans as plentiful yet insignificant as dust? To think that you believed yourself to be comparable to the primordial dragons."
Zhongli stiffens at the mention of the primordial dragons. After all he is the prime of the Adepti who's exuvia is a dragon, not a primordial dragon. Wouldn't it be fun if he held some sense of inferiority when compared to the primordial ones?
Zhongli sits on the ledge of the rock with his elbows on his legs and his hands covering his face. It was time. He would question just what you were talking about and you'll explain the elemental sacrificing that he forgot. That'll be the end and he'll have no choice but to support you! 
Smiling knowingly you approach him and lean down to see behind the shadow casting over his eyes. Your eyes twinkle victoriously as his breath leaves a cloud from the crisp air.
"I should have known that the creator would not forgive me for failing to arrive on time."
What? 
"How could I have been beaten to that shooting star by that astrologist? No matter who may have been her master, I failed to arrive on time."
Zhongli sulks there as he continues rambling to himself on 'missing' the shooting star due to his old age. Was he seriously talking about how you lost him the first time to Mona?!
Memories come back of you using the last of your wishes on his banner and being greeted with Mona instead. The first 50/50 you lost and was forced to use nearly all your primogems to get him. A fact that you never let Zhongli forget through your adventures.
Just what would he do if he knew how you always switched to a different character whenever his idle starts to play? Would he sew his lips together in repentance? That must be the difference between a true believer and a fake believer...
Holding back a sigh you begin brainstorming on how you were supposed to bring the conversation back to the sacrificing. Zhongli is too lost in his own head as he begins to continuously blame himself for any mistake he could have made.
"Being unable to answer the travelers' questions must have worsened their view on me too."
"That and how you were willing to let Liyue flood if they couldn't defeat Osial."
"Human life may be precious but they're as numerous as the dust that make up stone. I would rebuild Liyue for the rest of this long life until I cultivate a nation that I could humbly present the creator with."
"Then shouldn't the creator just grind you down and raise a different Adepti to their exact liking? You should work hard to be exactly what they desire to be truly loved."
"Are you saying that the Creator loathes me?" He finally looks away from the sea of clouds to stare at you. Sparing him a glance, you listen to him grow more panicked by your silence.
"Do they wish to see me crumble and be reabsorbed into the earth for my mistakes, for my sins? Was it the way I mechanically went through the motions of worship for the few years after Guizhong's death? Or does my benevolent god crave me and my nation to fall for aiding in the destruction of Kh-?"
Abruptly Zhongli grasps at his chest where his heart lays as he coughs. More out of politeness than concern you rub his back as fluid flies from his lips to his closed fist.
The thick inky plum colored fluid stained his fist with droplets of crimson swirling within it. His coughing fit slows to a halt as his hand slowly releases the clothing over his heart. Harsh breathing and a shallow pained groan is all that can be heard as he cleans himself up.
“Pardon me-” 
“Was that a warning from Celestia or a side effect if you get too close to speaking?"
"The implication is the same no matter what it may be from." He whispers as you begin to move back to return his personal space. Yet his now ungloved hand is what wraps around your grass stained sleeve.
"Now answer my question." Determination and a barely concealed unruly emotion simmer beneath his composed surface as he asks. "As an oracle, tell me what I have to do to earn their forgiveness. What must I reap to begin repenting for the sins I sowed?" 
Eyes widening at the sight of the disheveled man, you stare at him quietly. The messy hair, cut up clothing and grip tight enough to keep you still all while being careful not to bruise.
Hook, line and sinker.
"Is that a question for me to answer? Am I the god that you wronged? If you wish to communicate with the creator yourself, then there is a way. A method to begin regaining the pebbles that make up the mountain of trust you once shared with them."
You grab the arm that connects to his hand wrapped around your own and pull him up. He obeys the silent command and stands up, his gaze never faltering from your form. Silent and towering like the mountains he's created, he simply listens.
"Celestia has hidden more from you than you originally thought. But I'm sure you already know that. Offer yourself to the merciful creator and they'll surely hear your pleas of forgiveness. Whether they forgive you or not is up to them."
Releasing your hold on him, you turn to survey the area. Now where could you have him perform the sacrifice? His free hand comes to rest on your shoulder for your attention.
"What must I offer of myself? My blood? My body? If need be, I'll even be willing to offer my life. My life is worthless without them. I'm nothing more than a grain of mineral if not for them."
"There's so many things you can offer, but if you want to make the most impact, then you'll offer up your body parts. Your life may be precious but just how much longer do you have left?"
"Then will the private temple I have built for them work? We can head there immediately." He points south to the sole unnamed mountain in Minlin. You vividly remember unlocking the teleport waypoint there.
"The only way I'll know is when I see the interior. I'll meet you there Zhongli!"
Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you close your eyes and calmly imagine what the scenery around the waypoint looks like. The rocky feel of the floating stone changes to a lush green beneath your feet. Opening your eyes you're greeted with a valley of viridescent brustles with degraded stone ruins at the edges. 
"To think that the Creator even allowed you access to the waypoints. They must treasure you greatly." He appears at your side in a matter of minutes. His tone has a hint of longing and bitterness.
It's sweet like the flavor of a childhood candy that you would sneak behind your parents backs. Almost sweet enough to make up for the starvation you would face later on as punishment.
"Instead of focusing on that, why don't you show me that private temple you created? As the Geo Archon, I hold high expectations for you."
"This temple is the one I created for me. If you want the glamorous shrine built for the mass and appearance then you're better off viewing the public one that the Qixing now control."
He walks down the hill until the grass is tall enough to cover his calves. You follow behind him and stare blankly at the plain that is covered with a healthy amount of tall marigolds. Just as you're about to repeat the question, the earth begins to rumble.
It starts with just one stone rising from the ground, until it multiplies into a roof like structure. You watch in awe as a temple surges out of the mountain with the slightest bits of dirt falling off it.
Stone of high quality and clearly careful upkeep shines with small cracks from the passage of time. Gold, silver, and bronze layer the nooks and crannies of the pillars that keep a roof over the doorway.
Marveling at it, you follow Zhongli into the temple... He couldn't kill you in it, right? Surely you could still teleport even if he locked you in it… Teleporting without using the map might not work due to the focus and effort it required, but doing it with the map has never failed you yet.
The inside was even more impressive; statues of all kinds surrounded the hallway. It was you, always you, just in different poses, clothing and materials. From thin robes crafted entirely from Cor Lapis, to suits made of Noctilucous Jade.
Arriving at what seemed to be the main room, you're greeted with a huge statue comparable to the public one in Inazuma's plaza. Sunlight bathed your statue from the skylight above it.
Your body was made of Cor Lapis decorated in an Archon-like robe made from Noctilucous Jade. A fresh Glaze Lily sat in your palm as Silk Flowers adorned your head in a crown like structure. You sat on a blue stone throne that seemed to grow brighter as you approached it. The sleek yet dense mineral looked like the magical crystal chunks you would give to the blacksmiths. 
"Be careful to not venture too close to that one, the elemental energy may leave it to join you." Zhongli warns as he steps into the middle of the room. Smiling casually to hide your amazement, you head back to him.
"What an impressive statue, the Creator is feeling quite pleased with the display but still wishes to see your true remorse." Digging into your bag, you brought out the ceremonial knife and the handbook you took notes on.
"Go get the softest cloth and lay it on the ground. This ritual is simple, you'll cut off whatever part of your body you wish to offer, pray, and wait for a response. If 10 to 20 minutes pass with no response, then you can leave it at that or offer more in hopes of a response."
Closing the book and shoving it back into your bag you offer the knife to Zhongli. He looks up from where he laid the gilded gold fabric to stare at the knife before letting out a drawl laugh.
"That knife will do little to my scales, Y/N. A ceremonial item is to be bathed in liquid gold to be used so I have more than enough weapons that can actually cut my skin."
Scoffing, you stuff the knife back in as he leaves and returns with a variety of weapons. The largest was an ax that smelled faintly of blood. Was it used to sacrifice someone not too long ago? The thought makes you uncomfortable, yet you're no longer alarmed at the thought.
My, have you changed.
You move to stand away from the center closer to the exit. Zhongli's bare hand turns to a pattern of black and amber hues. Shedding his thick coat, his flexed muscles in draconic form are left in full view.
If you were back on Earth, you would have killed to view this. An Archon’s skin was something the majority of the players wished for, for quite a while. Even now, you would love to see his true Archon form, but the thought of actually living was far more tantalizing.
Rolling up his sleeves, he chooses a sword and examines it carefully. Without fear he raises it high and slices downwards cutting his hand off cleanly. The ruby liquid sprays onto the floor as the droplets drip off his sword and dismembered limb simultaneously.
It doesn't matter how many times you witness or smell blood, it still disgusts you. The only blood you truly cherished in shedding was the one that left that man's body when you stabbed him in that cold alleyway.
His hand lands onto the expensive textile with a wet thud as the ivory bone sticks out. Zhongli lays the sword down gently resisting the urge to groan in pain. Gritting his teeth he returned his attention and gaze back to you. You, who stayed in perfect position ahead of him, clad in gems and minerals carved by his own hand.
Closing his eyes, his lips followed the adored pass time of praying with intensity. Too lost in his regret, joy, and infatuation his words slipped out clear like the perfectly carved jewels he’s crafted for you.
"My god, my god. For I have sinned against you so. The mistakes I cannot fix or change, I pray for your forgiveness." Your unmoving, unchangeable eyes stared at him with an expression so familiar to him, one who worshiped you in this temple for centuries.
"From allowing myself to be tricked, to the lack of devotion I felt to you in Guizhong's death and finally with how I treated a servant of yours with disdain. Envious, I am envious to an extent that I shouldn't hold to my righteous god like you. Even now I still haven't broken the habit of referring to you as 'my' god."
Once again, just like the first time, Teyvat seems to overwhelm you with his feelings. You stare at his back as his lips murmur the words of devotion without an end in sight. Silently, you accept his offering, this first one was only to put the last nail in the coffin of you being an oracle. 
The sky darkens as Zhongli's hand crumbles into a pile of primogems that dissolve into the air. Blue and purple stars dance across the sky as a lone gold star makes its way closer. 
You didn't plan to always accept his offerings. After all you did lose a 50/50 to him and was forced to put up with his paranoid possessiveness in regards to your creator self. Shouldn't you make him lose a few times to even the score?
The gold star shines brighter and bigger as Zhongli gazes at it with a smile purer than anything he's ever felt since his creation at your hands. It flies through the window enveloping him and the whole room with a beaming light.
--------------
When his eyes open, the skylight shows the sunny sky but he can already feel his connection to you stronger. The brilliance you bore shines beautifully in him like a star he wished to keep hidden for only him to see.
It worked, it worked! There is no need for him to be wary or envious of you for claiming to be so close to the creator anymore. In fact, you were a sign specifically designed for someone like him. A sign that the creator had not grown complacent in simply watching Teyvat, you were now showing interest in coming back soon. And through you, he can find out details about the creator that were kept secret all these millennia.
A wide and joyful grin is bared with obsession tangling within it. He turns his head to where you stood and his smile drops abruptly when all he's greeted with is an empty spot. 
He built this temple for him and the creator to enjoy in privacy due to his possessive nature born from his dragon lineage, yet the sight of Y/N who up and vanished after fulfilling their duty struck his core like the abyssal gunk that used to constantly corrupt his body.
You may have left, you may think that he wouldn't treat you, a fellow devoted servant well due to his earlier behavior. And he understands that, he truly does but that simply means he has to rectify his mistake before it's too late. You were a mere human while him, a god. 
Finding you before any terrible consequences from his mistakes won't take too long.
-------------------
Unaware of the dragon's changing tune, you eye the Dragon-Queller tree from outside the temple with interest. After all the work you've done thus far, indulging yourself with a nice close up of the magnificent landmark would be a good treat for yourself.
This one took a while and it was edited by the same jerk. I really hope all the work was worth it and that the next part can be done faster. But as my college is starting this early Sep, it might be even longer. Genshin's lore is a hot mess so I tried my best to keep it simple while touching on the important parts. All the lore I put in is almost completely accurate. If you don't include the sagau parts. If your name is italic then that means I couldn't tag you. I manually put everyone so hopefully this fixes the notifications problems. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0
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jhuzen · 1 year
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married life [m.reader]
this is me taking the first step in creating the househusband hcs of our tall hsr men for us gays and bi kings. happy pride ansismdkf (i mean to say that also in haitham’s post bUT OH WELL). anyway, i still hate luocha. otto trauma so true so real (honestly, his only saving grace in mhy games is ayato because he’s not blond). today, we have ourselves some househusbands.
𖦹 househusband hcs with gepard, sampo, jing yuan, blade, dan heng, caelus and old man welt, no luocha but i’m open to be convinced why i should start loving him, mostly fluff, domestic stuff, modern au though… aren’t they more modern if they can travel the space? huh. normal world au then. forgot to add that ceo reader is implied
GEPARD LANDAU
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He’s a very reluctant househusband at first, actually. He’s one who firmly believes that relationships are a team effort (and they are and should be), and thinks that it wouldn’t hurt for the both of you to work together. Of course, you encourage him regardless, and with both of your career-oriented selves, you were basically the couple that could foster a ten or so children and still be financially sound.
Serval is the one who convinced Gepard to lay low a little in his job and relax for once. You’re making a decent income a month — enough for you to be the only one working and still have a comfortable life together.
You have to thank your sister-in-law and her craftiness. She wasn’t Gepard’s sister for nothing. She knew your husband more than anyone and knew that he was too down bad to even refuse in entertaining the thought of not taking care of you. All she had to do was do a little convincing.
“If I were [Name], I sure wouldn’t mind coming home to a nice meal like this every night,” she’d muse with a hum while she ate off of Gepard’s cooking. He came home early that one night and thought to surprise you. Of course, Serval just had to taste test since she’s looking out for you, her beloved brother-in-law. “Also wouldn’t mind being taken care of by my own spouse…”
Gepard quickly folded. What if his sister was right and you wanted that kind of life? But it’s not like he also wants to quit his job just like that. So he made a gradual decrease in work until he can finally have a schedule that can commit as a househusband and occasionally help when he’s needed at work as a consultant.
Your beloved husband is a bit mid from the start — basic in cooking, in chores, but it’s his perseverance that pushes him up to S-tier househusband status. He will really go out of his way to learn recipes that you suddenly brought up in the middle of a conversation and will execute it to the highest standards. He will become a lot more meticulous in his chores around the house.
If he can, he’s definitely the type to drop by and join you in lunch. He’s a lot more free now, and if there’s nothing else to do in the house, he’ll take some lunch and go to where you work and just eat lunch together. Everyone is looking at the windows of your own office in envy while they watched you get spoon fed by your cute husband (they don’t know how embarrassed Gepard is since you technically just coerced him to feed you so people can see you on purpose).
So very attentive to you. He wakes you up early (even earlier if you have meetings where you have to discuss things to be extra prepared) for work. Your lunch is just top tier, but the plating is too cute — with the slightly uneven shapes to create cute animals. He’s the kind to even put a note in your packed lunch every time without fail.
He knows how hard you work and only wants the best for you. And when you recognize his efforts, he’s quick to get flustered from your compliments. He will fold like a wet cardboard. He’s too weak.
“Dear, please,” you could only laugh at your beloved’s winsome attitude. Currently pressed against the marbled counter of the kitchen, you can only shower him in a plethora of love-filled kisses as you expressed your unending gratitude. Your lips left tiny pecks from his cheeks down to his neck, only serving to fluster him even more.
You pulled back but not before leaving another quick kiss on his nose, “What’s got you all knotted up, love? No one’s watching.” You cooed, leaving your poor husband whining at the thought of earlier — when you so cruelly asked him to feed you in front of your subordinates while you busily ‘worked’ on your projects.
But somehow even with the unbridled embarrassment that you brought to him, Gepard couldn’t help but feel the elation engulf his entirety at the prospect of you showing him off in your own mischievous ways. Even with your busy schedule, you were more than willing to let him come inside your work and take the time off just to let him join you for lunch. He’d already heard enough drama around the neighborhood to be grateful that you can still balance your work with your marriage.
He was grateful to have you as his partner for life. And even then, he wouldn’t mind having to visit you just to feed you. It was certainly a rare thing that he’s heard partners would suggest, so to be given a privilege as seeing you everyday at work was something he would cherish more than ever.
A kiss on his temple knocked his fleeting thoughts off the rail and pulled him back to reality, blinking at your curious smile, “…Shield for your thoughts?” You inquired with a gentle tone, eager to pry just what has got your husband so spacey all of a sudden.
He only grinned before pulling you in for a proper kiss and murmured against your lips, “Just thanking my lucky stars for having you as my husband.”
Now it was your turn to be flustered.
𐂂
SAMPO KOSKI
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Your friends still think you’re a legend for even managing to wife up the untamable Sampo. But somehow, you pulled him in and he was more than willing to be a househusband. For more reasons than one.
But let’s get out the pinnacle of his reasons out of the way — it being, him living so comfortably? Financially supported by a handsome guy like you? Sign him up. He’s more than willing to take care of you while you take care of him. He’s a sleazy guy, after all. Wouldn’t wanna get married to a broke man. Kidding.
Anyway, he mostly sells the story of getting married just for benefits for laughs. But really, you’ve somehow managed to actually trap him as a prisoner of love. He’s a huge simp for you and actually considers your high-end job a bonus. A really good bonus. But other than that, you’ve got Sampo completely wrapped around your finger. And he’s a very eager househusband.
A surprisingly good househusband. He’s meticulous in his work and can cook. But what really sells him is how well he can budget and actively get discounts just by smooth talking the vendors in the market. You once went with him, telling him to go nuts and buy everything that he needs, and you came home with only just a good half of your money spent. He was scarily good and from then on, you made an oath to take notes from your husband’s amazing haggling skills.
He’s a very resourceful man. If you need anything, he’s there to lend a hand. He’s always there to fix equipments that break down. Really, you rarely get issues with the things at home, because the moment he senses that there’s something wrong, he’s already on the case. Your husband is a jack of all trades.
All he requires is a small fee of some attention and loving from you. Seriously, he will mope around and will let you know that he’s upset that you forgot to give him a goodbye kiss earlier when you left for work.
You wake up much earlier than he does, but please wake him up. He wants to cook you breakfast and see you off like a loving househusband that he is. He will sulk if you so much as even think of leaving him without waking him up. He’s a big drama queen and unless you make up for it once you get home, he will continue to walk around the house with a pout on his face.
The only way to make this man completely crumble underneath you is to spoil him. He’s working so hard with the upkeep of your shared home! If you take him out on surprise date nights, he will melt. Shower him with lavish gifts from all the money you saved up, courtesy of Sampo’s extreme bargaining. He will latch onto your arm the entire night like your pretty little arm candy (even if he’s taller than you).
Oh, right. You will get sudden visits from Natasha or even Seele and Oleg, just to check up on your married life. They’re mostly just there to whack some sense into Sampo if he’s being difficult to you. Suffice to say, they’re always surprised when they come visit your homely abode that’s clean and has a refreshing atmosphere. Seele plugs her ears every time you say it’s all because of Sampo that your house is even remotely presentable. She’s in denial.
It was a grueling day, leaving you completely vulnerable to the throes of exhaustion. You ought to take some vacation days, maybe go on a different country with your husband for a treat. Surely, he’d like that. You noticed he’s been working just as hard as you at home. Speaking of which — the reason for your home’s unfamiliar silence was in fact the lack of singing from your lively husband. You were so used to hearing his voice that the silence felt incredibly deafening when you were alone.
“Love? You home?” You called out, glancing at the shoe rack by the door to see his outdoor shoes in the same place and the indoor shoes missing. He’s here. You pursed your lips, brushing off the peculiarity and headed to the joint dining room and kitchen, seeing a nice still hot meal sitting on a nice plate. But it was the only thing on the table, no other plates or even a husband waiting on you with a smile. You peered at the food to see a card beside the plate, scribbled with a sad face.
“…What.” You sat the card back down before finally poking your head in the living room, seeing your husband watching another sad show while screwing in some panel from what you can only guess a part of your heater. You sauntered up from behind him, before grabbing his face and tilting his head up to meet your gaze.
He made no noise and had it not been for his evident pout, you would’ve only been left wondering what you did to make him so sulky again. You sighed before leaning to press a kiss against your lips. You could feel him finally smile against the kiss.
“So you still love me?” He asked, insinuating that you felt otherwise for not even giving him a kiss goodbye earlier.
“Not like I have a choice,” was your only cheeky response.
“Wha— Hey!”
𐂂
JING YUAN
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Out of everyone, he is probably the most eager one to be a househusband. He is so ready to retire. He’s been moaning about it at work constantly, about how he’s just ready to settle in somewhere nice and be taken care of. And when you decided to finally tie the knot with him, you didn’t even have to ask twice, that man is already turning in his resignation and is already making your shared home even cozier than ever.
He’s a very languid man, but that does not mean he’s going to flake out on chores. He can do them all efficiently just for the sake of getting them out of the way so he can keep relaxing after. That, and of course making sure that you come home to a clean home. Aeons know how stressful it is to come home from work and seeing your own home completely cluttered. Jing Yuan has suffered the same thing before he met you.
Jing Yuan loves you through his cooking other than sleeping in with you. He creates the greatest dishes for you. Often are you eating your lunch with so much pride. Your subordinates would come inside your office during lunchtime to pass some papers and they would see you just completely enjoying life with your husband’s cooking.
He likes to greet you with a nice warm meal after your work. And he’d just watch you eat his meals with a fond smile while you continue to talk about each of your days with each other. Of course, occasionally, he’d open his mouth and you would have to feed him as well. Yanqing would sometimes come home to such a sight and never has he seen a more domestic scene than before.
Another one of his much favored ways to show his love is through after work massages. You’d come home and be completely smothered with love just by his touches. Sometimes he’d give you a nice neck and shoulder massage while you’re eating and talking about your day. Or you could both be lounging on the sofa and he would absentmindedly massage your overworked hands.
However his most favored time spent with you is when you’re on a day off and that he would successfully persuade you into staying a little bit longer in bed with him. Just sleep until the afternoon, with limbs tangled against one another. He loves spooning his husband that takes care of him so dearly. Just feeling your back pressed against his chest while he’s nuzzling his nose into the nape of your neck. Bliss. Utter bliss.
The two of you scream old married couple. Just two old geezers enjoying their lives. It’s really such a relaxing relationship. Being married to Jing Yuan is like a vacation from your problems and him being married to you is an adventure without the nauseating exhaustion.
Yanqing is inadvertently your child the moment you got married to your husband. And suffice to say, you were far more content in your life than you could ever imagine. Never have you felt the genuine happiness swell within you the moment you came home to the two of them cooking together. You still have a slightly motion blurred picture in your phone and neither of them know about it.
Overall the most chill househusband. But even in his passivity, you can feel the radiating warmth of love for you. He just… loves you so much that he’s more than willing to take care of you and the little family that you and him have created. He will wait for you by the door with his half-lidded gaze completely fixated on you with so much adoration. He’s lucky to have you.
You were used to the hectic mornings you often faced upon waking up. It was always a rush job in the morning, speeding through all your morning routine before finally leaving for work. But today was not that day. You could tell from the way the sunlight hit your eyelids. You always left just before the sun could even come up, but right now, you had other plans.
You wanted to prepare a nice breakfast for your husband. He had been working so hard all the time, taking care of you and Yanqing with no days off unlike you. You figured you could get the day started and surprise the both of them with some of your cooking prowess. Suddenly filled with the motivation, you sat up, ready to face the first hour of your time off work for a few days.
However, your plans were soon foiled when a strong arm hooked around your waist and immediately pulled you back down on the bed without even breaking a sweat. You sighed, looking off to the side to see one golden eye peering at you sleepily. Lips turning up into a smile, you shifted to fully face him.
“Can’t even let me make you some breakfast in bed, huh?” You teased with the same fondness as the very first day you and him got married.
A quiet grunt was all your lover gave, only to follow it up with his own gruff response a minute later, “While that sounds nice, I believe I can also reap benefits just from canoodling with my husband for let’s say… until the afternoon.”
Your hands were tied at that point, and with one last charming smile from your dozing husband, you dove into his arms, letting him press some kisses on your face before falling asleep, with you following after.
𐂂
BLADE
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No one in this world knows how you managed to charm and marry Blade in the first place. Even his family considers you a miracle worker for bagging the hard to get man. You could only reminisce of the times he would give you the cold shoulder when you tried to ask him out. You were cringe but Blade somehow liked it.
Regardless, he’s one of the reluctant househusbands at first. Blade doesn’t like the feeling of not going out and making money like you. He believes that as long as he can, he will contribute to this relationship. It’s really adorable. And you were supportive of what he wants, but when he realized no one can take care of you while you’re busy being the breadwinner, he decided that he’ll take one for the team and take care of everything in the house instead.
He is meticulous in cleaning. Your house is always sparkling clean the moment you arrive at home. He’s constantly on the hunt for any dust that could taint your shared humble abode. He once read that an unclean house can cause sickness to the occupants, and he has never let a single dust touch a furniture ever since then. Your health is his priority and he will do everything in his power to keep you healthy.
You know what? Screw it, he wears his apron without a care too. He goes out of the house in a pink frilly apron you gifted him as a silly little joke and he’s not ashamed of it. Even Kafka’s incessant teasing isn’t enough to deter him from wearing it. You gave it to him and he loves it. That’s all that matters.
Surprisingly loved by your neighbors. In contrast to his gloomy disposition, he’s always seen around the market and with people’s tendency to draw closer to mysterious handsome men like him, let’s just say he’s managed to unintentionally charm your neighbors. Everyone calls you lucky for getting him, everyone calls him lucky for having a good husband that provides.
Really, he cares so little about the money you make. All he needs is your love and attention. It is imperative that you give him calls on certain times of the day, let him know that you’re still alive at the very least. It’s not like you can’t make do on such a promise either, you loved calling him just to take a break from work for a little while. Even just hearing his quiet grunts of agreement while you gossiped about your subordinates was enough.
He wakes you up… like really early. Super early. Like at least a few hours before you call in for work. His reason? To get enough time with you before you go to work. It’s adorable. You two could be just lounging at the balcony, sipping coffee or tea while you both watch the sunrise.
Speaking of which, with him comes a package. His aforementioned family. Kafka and Silver Wolf’s visits are a must. They are a part of him and now they are a part of you. Kafka could be dropping by just to chat and gossip with you (somehow both of you know a lot about people’s own businesses) or Silver Wolf would just barge in and hog all your game systems (she says no one plays them since you’re both old men so she gets the privilege). Either way you’re already used to it, and one guest room is always at the ready.
Getting married to Blade is honestly the best thing you’ve ever done in your life. You still don’t know how you pulled him, but with him resting on you while the both of you watched shows, showing you his vulnerability tells you that doing so is not an accident or a mistake.
“…Would it kill you to step back a little? It’s hard to cook.”
“But you’re so warm. So soft… so…”
Quite possibly out of all the forms of affections that you’ve expressed towards him, Blade finds your nosy hands cupping around his chest from under his clothes the least practical. Especially when you’re doing it while he’s cooking your breakfast before you’re off for work.
He flipped the omelet with ease despite his claims of difficulty just seconds ago. Of course, it wasn’t as hard when he’s standing still. But on times where he had to go get some things, you in your sleepy daze had to trudge behind him like a shadow just to persistently warm your incredibly cold hands.
Regardless, other than the difficulty in moving, Blade finds it even harder not to burn the kitchen down as his concentration dwindled with every kiss you pressed against his neck, unrelenting and incredibly soft, so filled with love in every individual peck that met his skin. His face turned a rather dark shade of scarlet while you busied yourself with him.
“Keep this up and you’re going to be late.”
“At least it’s extra time with you~” you cooed.
Blade only sighed before leaning against your back, using his free hand to softly knock into the side of your head as his form of half-assed discipline.
Well. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that extra time too.
𐂂
DAN HENG
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He’s not so much as a reluctant househusband. In fact, he relishes in the idea of just staying home and doing his work there. He likes the comfort of being able to sit things out for once after having to look after his two gremlins for friends. However, he does want to make sure that you’re always safe when you’re working.
After a lot of reassurances, he finally decides that you can handle your own. He will compensate for it by taking an extremely good care of you and your shared home. And this man does not play around. He’s sort of like Blade, excelling at everything that needs to be done not just because, but it’s to keep you safe. He cooks you healthy meals and scrubs any dirt off the face of the world.
Easily one of the greatest househusbands in the list. Dan Heng has the right temperament and while he’s often aloof to most people, when it comes to you, you could already feel how he seems more lenient, a little softer on you.
He does all his work efficiently to get them over with as fast and as best as he can so he can have time to visit you in your work. If he knows he has time, count on your beloved husband to come and bring you some freshly cooked lunch in your office. Almost everyone in your company already knows who he is. He’s the elusive husband of the big boss, coming in just to bring you some lunch.
Speaking of which, might wanna keep your subordinates in check. Dan Heng is a looker, and the fact that he’s just as considerate, combined with his mysterious nature, people are bound to be more attracted to him. Though honestly, none of their little admiration could measure up to Dan Heng’s love for you.
In his eyes, you are the only one important, right next to his own family with Himeko and the rest. And he will do all that he can to make sure that you’re alright in any aspect of your life. However even with that dedication, it’s also your job to keep him intact. He focuses so much on you that he sometimes forgets to wind down.
Taking him out on something with a serene atmosphere usually does the trick. Bring tons of books to entertain yourselves, and if the stories get too old, you chat about things you have yet to tell each other. Dan Heng really appreciates the effort you put in, investing your time in him despite the fact that you’re running a conglomerate, but even then just a little gesture from you is enough for him to know how grateful you are for his own efforts as well.
Old married couple 2.0. March said so herself when she decided to barge into your home to show you her pictures from her recent travels. She and the raccoon are tied at the tally of visits. Often they just crash just to make sure Dan Heng hasn’t driven you insane yet with his very… unromantic nature. Safe to say March still couldn’t believe that dear old Dan Heng was the first to pop the question in tying the knot.
Speaking of unromantic, your husband does come off as one, often giving you practical solutions than giving you any words of comfort when you’re stressed. And perhaps it’s because you understood that’s his way of romancing you that you and him ended up married in the first place.
Exhaustion was more of a friend than a foe after having to bury yourself in the tower stacks of paperwork. It’s times like these that you had to wonder if running the family company is even worth it.
“I’m too tired to driiiiive,” you whined, looking at the spreadsheets in exasperation.
And as if he had a sixth sense, a knock on your door was heard and you gave the green light with little regard for the person behind the door. You then looked up and almost cried at the sight of your beautiful husband, with two coffees in hand.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” it was all he had to say to prompt what little motivation you had left in your system, letting your sluggish self spring back to life. You bound to him with a grateful smile on your face and greeted him with an embrace.
You took one cup from him and graced him with a kiss on his cheek, “Hang on, let me get some take home work. I need to at least finish a good third of this.”
Your poor husband was a lot more worried than he could let on with his stoic face — seeing you on the ropes, completely hard at work and barely functioning at the sheer exhaustion was almost enough to tempt him into stopping you from bringing home your work. Alas, he supported you regardless and only thought to compensate for your extra work with an even better dinner.
“Anything you want for tonight?” He asked, thoughtful as always.
“Mmm… chicken fried rice?”
“Chicken fried rice it is.”
𐂂
CAELUS
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Not a single soul expected for this man to get married. Everyone thought he’d just end up on the streets willingly, constantly rummaging through trash can after trash can, falling in love with one and settling down with it in his own odd way. Surprise surprise, he is now a househusband that digs through the high end trash cans placed inside your shared home.
Quite frankly, if Caelus was being honest, he also did not expect to trip into you and quite literally fall in love. And for you to reciprocate it. He always thought you two were just the best of friends, with you supporting his hobbies with little to no judgment. So imagine his surprise that he keeps feeling every time he wakes up right next to you (and right next to his five foot pillow of a trashcan, but it’s a separate affair on its own).
Moving aside your husband’s very odd addiction of living the life of a trash panda, Caelus is actually a pretty decent househusband. His specialities are mostly the meals he makes for you. They’re always so delicious and is often the highlight of your day even without him around.
He’s very active around the neighborhood and is always armed with the latest news around town. The other stay at home spouses love him. And you were quite surprised to find out that he’s far more connected in the very place you both live in than you could ever be. When you’re free, you’d sometimes accompany him to the market and somehow end up staying very late because a lot of people recognize him and seem to want to chat with him.
Caelus parades you around as his beloved husband and people are just dropping jaws when they realize you have definitely been interviewed in one of those famous magazines about businesses and all that jazz.
Surprisingly, just like Sampo, Caelus is your man when it comes to spending wisely and learning how to haggle. He knows his way around almost everything and even you couldn’t help but be proud of yourself of fishing out such a dashing man that is wise in finances. Good man, honestly.
One fact about him that you like are his skills in caring for children. There’s something so wonderfully domestic whenever you would come home early and see him playing with the children — Hook and Clara, if you can recall. He’s mostly just babysitting for them on days that he’s not completely hammered to death with housework.
His favorite thing to do with you is grocery shopping at night. Just the two of you cruising around every aisle, more often than not, you’d push the cart with him in it getting gradually buried by every item you decided to purchase. It’s a good way to spend some time together while getting something productive done. And perhaps coax you into buying a little more food than you and him intended in the first place. Dan Heng always advices you not to be too swayed by your husband antics… but it’s clearly not working.
Caelus is a silly little man, with his weird eccentric jokes and his equally strange fascination for all things related to trash cans. But it’s probably because of this that you found yourself enamored. He is your respite in the suffocating world of your workforce. He pushes you in situations you never thought would be fun unless he was with you.
“If you loved me, you would’ve gotten ten more boxes of cookies.”
“And if you loved me, you wouldn’t be willingly burying yourself in that cart instead of helping me pick between chocolate or strawberry milk.” You quipped back with a snarky grin, not even bothering to look at your childish husband who continued to be sprawled out in the cart at ten in the evening while you shopped.
Caelus pouted, you always did make good points. It’s why he could never win an argument against you. Or maybe he could… if he wasn’t so completely smitten at the sight of you. You were always seen as the dignified boss of your company, dressed in three piece suits that could suffocate anyone and their wallet.
But here you were, dressed in a loose shirt (likely one of his just judging from the fit) and some pair of joggers that you haphazardly threw on.
Absolutely breathtaking.
He lent out a hand to reach for the carton of flavored milk that you finally chose, adding it onto the pile. He waited until you were at the end of the cart, getting ready to muscle your way through pushing an incredibly heavy cart, courtesy of your husband.
Caelus looked up at you, “Don’t I at least get a kiss for helping out?”
“Cae, I’m dying from pushing you. How ‘bout we entertain that incentive once you got out of the cart and started helping me, hm?”
Maybe he’s just a simp, but how could he deny his demanding husband’s whims?
𐂂
WELT YANG
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This old man is the definition of a reluctant retiree. Well, it’s not actually a retirement for him. He still gets to be the voice of reason, only that he won’t actually personally animating. Who’s to blame? You. To be accurate, this old man officially decided to step down from his hands-on job as an animator so he can be a househusband. You’re a priority after all, and only the heavens know how bad you need to be taken care of.
Welt joins the ranks of a godly househusband. He knows his way around almost every single thing that needs to get fixed. His cooking? Top tier. His housework game? Absolute perfection. Floors are swept, counters are wiped and dusted, sheets and clothes are washed and pressed. He is perfect.
And on top of that, he still manages to balance his work from home as the consultant for any new anime that is about to be produced and can still care for you without even breaking a sweat. Old man Welt is always pulling through.
So let’s get this out of the way — actual old married couple. Not just vibes. You two are old men who look at the screen with squinted eyes. Well, only Welt does that while you laugh at him and then proceed to forget where you placed your own phone despite being on it just a few minutes ago.
Regardless, you live a much more balanced life, just two husbands cruising through life with little worries. You live on a good neighborhood, living comfortably and get a lot of visits from yours and Welt’s friends/family. Most of which are from the trio and Himeko. You and Welt always host these family dinners on weekends where everyone is free. Life is good.
However despite all the glamour of living a comfortable life in this marriage, there is one glaring difference between you and Welt — mostly it’s the fact that you have worse time management than he does and often gets the short end of the stick, always pummeled to death with your paperwork that could leave anyone in a fit of raw despair. Welt looked at your work the one time you left to answer a phone call from office and shuddered at the heavy load.
Welt is essentially your clock when it’s time to unwind from work. You have a tendency to overwork at times and it’s something that Welt always makes sure to keep an eye out for. He just wants what’s best for you, and oftentimes, what’s best is for you is to finally get some shuteye after suffering through another overnight that you pulled.
Also, there is an unspoken rule of not letting any man with long blonde hair inside your home. It’s just a house rule. The top of all other house rules in fact, as it takes the most priority in fulfilling.
Regardless, Welt is so… househusband-shaped. He knows what to do as one and does a damn good execution of it all. Maybe it’s because of his compassionate self that you were quick to fall for the old man. He didn’t even have to try and show off, all he had to do was be himself and you’d still give him the world with every penny you’ve earned from your job.
A taut frown tugged onto Welt’s lips as he squinted on the labels from the spices that Himeko sent from her recent overseas trip. Not that he didn’t trust his good friend’s tastes in any form of flavor, it’s only that he wanted to make sure none of it had any ingredient that could probably send you into an anaphylactic shock. Yes, he is this meticulous when it comes to you.
Alas, his cautiousness grants no extra clear sight in viewing the labels and he struggled, holding them in different proximities. Are the characters really that small intentionally or are they so incoherent because they manufacturers made an error in the sizing the font before printing it on the packaging.
Fortunately for him, you came into the rescue as you plucked the packaging from his hands. Welt didn’t need to look up to see the same smug smile plastered on your face whenever you’d catch him doing the same thing to his phone. Well, he loved looking at you so he did it nonetheless.
“Having trouble again, old man?” You teased and Welt only had to sigh in response. “Is this from Himeko’s package?”
Your endeared husband nodded, “Of course. I had to see what else she gave us. And I’m looking over the ingredients so I can keep you out of the hospital as best as I can.” He turned to the stove and lowered the heat. “Now kindly read it for me, dear.”
You only nodded, flipping over the packet, “Sure thing.”
There was a silence that followed, with Welt expecting you to run your mouth about the ingredients already. He looked back to you…
…And saw you squinting at the same bundle of text that he’s been staring at.
Welt scoffed, playful and light in nature, “And you call me old.”
“It’s the manufacturer’s fault…!!”
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m1d-45 · 1 year
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second chances
summary: baizhu knows he isn’t your favorite, but he still finds himself hoping for the impossible. maybe, with enough prayer, he’ll get it.
word count: ~2k
-> warnings: major spoilers for baizhu story quest + lore + liyue archon quest, based on me and my experience (vaguely disliked baizhu at first due to partial information, immediately changed my mind w his quest and now adores him, doesn’t have kirara)
-> gn reader (you/yours) and unspecified traveller (they/them)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr
< masterlist >
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baizhu knows he isn’t the most favored.
from the first moment the traveller set foot in his office, he knew. he wasn’t met with anything special, no big flair from his god when you first saw him. it was to be expected, with how much time he spent praying—could gods have regulars?
it was simple. a quick ‘oh, the snake talks?’ thrown his way, a comment or two about his choice of outfit or the jade pendant hanging off his vision, and that was that. mostly, you seemed preoccupied with qiqi and the funeral parlor’s consultant, something to be expected. he was a quick stop on your journey, a note in the margins about the doctor you met at the pharmacy. it made sense, of course, that you’d be occupied with the death of rex lapis during the failed rite of descension, and the return of osial and beisht surely took priority over him. he offered little, only a dialogue or two actually shared between him and the traveller when you were present. he’d gathered as much of his energy, saved it for your arrival to make a good impression, so… it made sense you’d fret over qiqi, constantly forgetful as she was.
it made sense. he’d… made his peace. he had more to worry about, surely, what with orders to fulfill and his own condition to manage. maybe not more important—never, not maybe, what was he thinking?—but certainly more.
when your attention on qiqi flared, spurred by some unknown whim, he delighted a bit in being close to her, even if your thoughts on him weren’t entirely positive.
it was fair. you liked qiqi, and were concerned. it made sense you didn’t know every detail of teyvat, and since he’s never had the chance to come to you and spell out his story directly, it made sense you’d make some assumptions.
“i guess that makes sense, but still… qiqi deserves better.”
she probably did, in truth, but hearing it from you…
he’s had his vision for years by this point. he’s hd it for as long as he’d had changsheng, to be exact, and she was always able to remind him of exactly how long that had been.
“ssseven yearsss, four monthsss, thirteen daysss, and counting…”
“ah… thank you, changsheng.”
he knew he wasn’t special. out of the thousands of vision wielders across teyvat, only a handful have started having their constellations appear in the sky. just under a hundred, by his approximation, but he tried not to count. if he sought out the proper numbers, tried to pin down a percentage of those with a vision that had a chance to hold their god’s attention, then he’d start trying to find patterns. he was a doctor, patterns and rhythms were his literal job, but he knew that wouldn’t end well.
(a librarian, an alchemist, a lawyer: did you perhaps favor more studious types? a bartender, an exorcist, a detective: or those with a drive in their lives? a nobody, a traveller, a wandering samurai: or those seeking one out for themselves?)
there wasn’t a pattern. it was random. and part of him hated it.
baizhu had had his vision for seven years, eight months, and thirteen (was it fourteen? the sky was growing dark) days, and had never once seen his stars in the sky.
he had one. he had a constellation, something he knew was rare among vision wielders, but it didn’t guarantee him a spot in the sky any time soon. kirara had hers long before she had her chance in the heavens—they’d spoken about that, both hesitant to show the other their divine gift, but willing to speak of its existence.
and now kirara’s turn had passed. though her vision didn’t shine any brighter, he could see the pride in her smile when she dropped off another delivery at the pharmacy. sign here, check these, make sure this is what you ordered, goodbye have a good day, pretend like yours doesn’t weigh more after seeing hers.
it wasn’t as if he was unremarkable. a perfectly healthy man who had thrown himself into illness to find the cure for all of them? surely that was interesting, wasn’t it? but it wasn’t his time, he was being impatient, slipping back to the same mindset he condemned his patients for.
“patience. medicine doesn’t work in an instant, and you’ll need to be taking this for the next week at minimum.”
“but it’s so bitter!”
“then tell me, what tastes worse: bile, or this pill? if you want to stop being sick, you need to take it.”
patience.
qiqi was blessed with a place in the stars near instantly after she’d gotten her vision, but she was not the norm. perhaps his expectations were weighted, then? or maybe you disliked his work entirely? he didn’t like entertaining what ifs, but when various aches kept him up, there was little else he could do while he waited for his medication to take effect. patience, he tried to remind himself, counting his breaths. be patient. wait, be calm, don’t agitate yourself. count in, count out, are your breaths getting shorter? just stay calm, be patient…
the first time he saw you, he knew you were coming. he’d saved as much energy as he could, doing his best to make a good impression. but now, with changsheng nudging him awake urgently, pushing him into his shoes and putting his glasses on for him, the first thing he’d expected was the millelith, maybe, or perhaps the ministry of civil affairs. maybe he was needed urgently, maybe something had happened to qiqi, maybe he was late for his medication and he’d get terrible headaches if he wasn’t quick- oh, but then why would she bother to coil around his shoulders?
and yet, out of all those possibilities, none were correct.
“hey! who’s talking about me behind my back?”
“changsheng, qiqi meant that as a compliment. there’s no need to be upset.”
it had been so long since he’d felt your light, far longer since he’d been properly healthy. he’d forgotten how it felt to walk without the dull ache in his joints, and yet here he was. standing by gui and a familiar looking child, speaking with your traveller. it was easy to say words he didn’t choose, his throat not getting dry despite the lack of his morning tea.
the quest was long, and by the end he should have been exhausted. between taking on jialiang’s sickness to turning him into a zombie, he should have been out of commission for the next few days. as it was he had a nasty cough, his breath coming shorter than typical… but that was it. he took his regular medication at the dinner with your traveller, the linger of your aura on them still seeming to dull his pains. how curious, that you could cure ailments even he couldn’t name anymore…
“baizhu, are you alright?” idly, he wondered if the traveller noticed the change in their voice when they were speaking for you. it always sounded a bit lighter, a bit of your emotions bleeding through… a pity he’d never know why. “today must have been taxing for you…”
all eyes were on him now, even qiqi’s. “i’m doing fine,” he said simply, taking another sip of his tea. “better than normal, if anything, which i have to owe to our guest.”
paimon still seemed nervous. “but what about when we leave? what if everything hits you all at once? normally you stay at the pharmacy, and using your power so much…”
a fair assessment. while he was no stranger to combat, to be thrown in the middle of a pack of such vicious hilichurls was a shock. still, he had made it through—even if, privately, he doubted it would have been so clean without you there. “i will be fine. even if my condition declines, i am well equipped to handle flare ups.”
it seemed the whole group was hesitant to let him go. changsheng insisted he stay up until three hours had past since the traveller left, when his limbs again felt heavy and his head began to hurt. something odd was stirring in his chest, and he was eager to get to bed before it sparked into anything more. it was reasonable, he knew, but there were only so many prescriptions to prepare before he had nothing left to do. gui had long since went to bed, leaving just him in the lobby of the pharmacy, quietly double checking his stock of herbs.
eventually, he stood from his seat, returning the sweet flowers to their proper place. he held up an hand to let changsheng climb up his arm, closing up the pharmacy. she curled around his shoulders twice, a familiar weight. the night was cool, a slight breeze bumping the chain of his glasses against his cheek. it had been a long few days, and he was happy that everything was settled. he’d done all he could for jialiang, and he and his family hopefully wouldn’t be coming back for quite some time. back to routine…
“…baizhu?”
he checked the lock with a quick tug, “yes? what is it?”
“the ssstarsss… they’re due, aren’t they?”
ah. the cycles of constellations, switching through the sky. if he thought about it.. yes, they were, weren’t they?
“by my memory, they are. why?”
her head was turned, looking off to the part of the sky not obscured by the roof of the pharmacy.
“…changsheng-“
“look.”
“it’s late.” his heart began to pick up, false hopes being raised. patience, he chided himself, but what follower did not wish for acknowledgment from their god? “we should go to sleep before we fall too far out of schedule.”
“baizhu! i know you have better sssenses than that.”
perhaps he did. his vision burned where it was clipped to his side, invisible vines creeping up toward his heart. “don’t be too hasty,” he said quietly, the words tasting as bitter as his pills.
don’t be too hasty. you could still be wrong. don’t get your hopes up. be patient.
one hand went to his hip, undoing the clasp of his vision, the other settling on the railing. a few clouds dotted the sky, but he lifted his vision anyway, searching for any stars tinted green.
everything happened at once. the terrace was replaced with an ocean of skies, the slight mumble of “i do have a guaranteed…” getting lost in the whirlwind around him. he was weightless, trapped in by an invisible box, only dimly aware of the fact that his pain had once again disappeared. he was floating, dressed in the attire he normally saved for formal events—dressed in what he’d put on when you’d first arrived—with no sight of the pharmacy below him. it was just him and changsheng, him and changsheng and the bright light that came from everywhere, lifting him from his unseen prison.
a laugh, a smile, a rush of power flooding through him, and when he next set foot in front of the pharmacy, he did so with a new gleam to his vision. he could hear a door open behind him—qiqi, if he had to guess, as why wouldn’t she be drawn to the power the adepti could only hope to imitate?—but couldn’t turn, breathless.
“welcome home, doc.. it’s good to see you.”
it had taken seven years, four months, and 25 days, but he was here. and it was more than he could have ever asked for.
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Tap into a Fast Growing Market | Gilliam Elliott
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honey-milk-depresso · 8 months
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dating HCs for Clotted Cream and Stardust Cookie?
CRK Dating HCS with Clotted Cream and Stardust!
Clotted Cream Cookie
He’s a sucker for classy, candlelit dinner dates, so he would definitely do that with you.
He’d probably sneak the two of you out of the convocation building to the garden outside, to the place he usually goes to have time for himself.
Clotted Cream hopes you like it, he consulted with Financier to set up a nice spot with crisp white tablecloth with gold linen and fancy blue cushioned chairs to keep you comfy there. The waterfalls that forms streams of burbles as it travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches behind you, the cream white pillars standing in peaceful silence and blue birds that fly around and watch the two of you on your date as the warm candles around you create the romantic atmosphere that he wants to create.
Of course being the gentleman he is, he pulls your chair for you and lets you sit down first with that charming and charismatic smile of his. His heart however is thumping so fast out of anxiety. He knows he’s got nothing to fear, but he just doesn’t want to screw up anything.
The date is quiet and peaceful, with playful banter between you two, Clotted Cream sliding a little flirty and respectful compliment here and there as the two of you laugh gently and quietly into the night, his hand on top of yours.
Top quality food is what you deserve! Clotted Cream prepared a wide variety of food for you both: with a high tea set, served on fancy plates and made by the top chefs of the Creme Republic. It’s only natural, after all.
Clotted Cream can’t help but smile warmly (or like a lovestruck idiot-) as you laughed at his joke quietly and sweetly with that beautiful smile of yours, the candles illuminating your presence in a warm glow like the angelic being you are to him. <3
Stardust Cookie
He planned a date with you across the cosmos, no surprise, but with a twist.
Stardust wanted to impress you (or at least show that he’s trying his best here) and took time to learn about Earthbread-bound concepts into the date, to make it more ✨romantic✨.
Obviously, it’s his first time even having any sort of outing with one cookie, and you’re just so important to him he’s nervous maybe he’ll flunk it. He’s foreign to this concepts and he’s scared but he wants to show he loves you dearly.
With the help of Milky Way, Space Doughnut, Gingerbrave and Friends, Stardust managed to put together a picnic for you outer space on a planet he used to find solitude in, but now he has someone to be with him and that somebody is you. He’s pretty much only got Earthbread snacks (and stuff Space Doughnut likes) and was pretty nervous whether you’ll judge him for his choices, or that they are even good in the first place. Of course, you reassure him that you’re having a wonderful time, it’s true! As the two of you enjoy the cosmos from your view, leaning your head on his shoulder and in a warm embrace.
Alternatively, it’s another candlelit dinner date but in Milky Way’s Express Train! She decided to go off duty for the day, just for you two! Stardust is immensely grateful for her help, and she and Space Doughnut acts as his two wingmen for the whole date as caterer and also the driver, Milky Way we still need you to operate this train-
Space Doughnut serves you every Earthbread food Gingerbrave and friends recommend, and just for you two they resist eating any of them although you two definitely gave them some food to share which they were happy about.
You and Spacedust look out to the window, the moving train showing breathtaking landscapes of the cosmos, galaxies swirling with such sparkle and glamour as he holds your hand in his. He briefly turns back to you, seeing you face the window with a peaceful smile before you turned to face him when you felt him staring and smiled back at him sweetly. His heart melts as he smiled back. <3
Reblogs help! ^^
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