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Smiles and Miracles
It's the Holy Night on the Grandcypher.
The ship is alight with joy, the mess hall filled with the crew celebrating.
Festive colors, fancy gifts, and a delicious feast. Dozens of people from all walks of life all gathered in common joy for the end of the year.
The Captain and her wife are the heart of the party, having planned everything together. The crewmates are all thankful, showering the two in praise and affection.
Everyone is having fun, smiles everywhere.
Almost.
Standing alone with a rather fake smile, is a tall woman, her hair of a silver shade that barely fades into the palest blond. Dressed in a black dress, she's very unfit for the holiday theme, other than a Santa-esque hat lazily worn on her head.
With a tray of food and drink, as well as a collection of medicines, she takes a final look back at the crew, soaking in the laughter and joy for a moment more, before turning and heading into the halls of the airship.
The cacophony of celebration fades into echoing, distant fanfare.
The deeper she descends, the more it feels like she's being haunted...
She prepares her heart, as she reaches the door to her shared cabin.
Passing the tray to a single hand, she gently opens the door enough to ask a question.
"Mireille?" she asks quietly inside.
"C-come in..." a weak sounding voice returns, before letting out a violent sounding cough.
She enters the dim room, lit only by a single, fading candle near the end of its wick, the wax having bled onto the surrounding table.
The room is filled with books, vials, and jars filled with all sorts of materials. It's a mess, clothes strewn about, the floor covered in bunched up rags, and an unfortunately pungent bucket by the bed.
As she closes the door behind her, the echoing of celebration dimming again, it's drowned out by more violent coughing.
"Ahahh..." a pained voice heaves, "R-Risette... please h-hurry..."
Risette does her best to hurry, laying her tray on the desk, and sitting on the bedside.
Mireille occupies her bed, her blonde hair matted to her face with sweat, her pillow damp with it. Her breathing is labored, and she's only able to turn her head slightly to cough away from her caretaker, spilling blood from her mouth.
Her fever is quite bad.
Mireille... has always had a very weak constitution, and she's almost always sick in some way... but this is much worse than usual.
And on such a day too...
Risette frowns as she leans over the smaller woman, lifting her head, and replacing her sweat and blood soaked pillow. Reaching for a warm, damp towel to lay upon her head, she then grabs a small bottle of water, lifting Mireille's head again, pouring just a little water in her mouth, before giving the woman a collection of multi-colored tablets, and bitter medicines.
It's difficult for her to get it down, but the blonde manages, coughing again afterwards.
"Easy... easy... I'm here..." Risette whispers, holding the towel against Mireille's head as she breathes.
"It will act fast. I'm sorry it took so long to get everything, everyone is busy with the festivities," she tries her best to reassure the sick girl, but it doesn't seem to work.
It hurts Risette to see her so pained.
Her pale face, so beautiful, marred by tears, and bloodshot eyes, her lips caked with blood...
She knows the look Mireille is giving her.
It's the gaze that says 'If I was in your body, I'd be healthy right now. I'd be able to celebrate. Run, dance, and jump for joy...'
"But you're stuck... in this body you hate..." the once-homunculus mumbles under her breath.
Picking up the bottle of water again, she gently offers it to the girl, and her weak hand emerges from under the covers to help guide it to her parched lips.
"I'm here for you..." Risette whispers, "always…”
"Always..."
–2–
Mirelle awakens from her hazy sleep in a daze.
Everything hurts.
Breathing, moving, even opening and closing her eyes takes effort.
But... she does feel better than before. The sleep and medication has most definitely helped... as well as...
Laying at her side, Risette seems to be in a peaceful sleep, laying atop the covers in a nightgown. She has an arm protectively laid over Mireille's midsection, her soft breathing compliments her soft, peaceful features.
Slowly turning her head, Mireille lifts her arm from under her thick blankets, doing her best to reach for a cup of water laid on her small night table. It's just frustratingly out of reach, the blonde girl scooching as best as she can without disturbing her bedmate.
Her fingers brush against the cup, if only her arms were longer... if only she was taller, stronger... then this wouldn't ever happen.
She does her best, but it's not enough, as she grunts, and her face tenses, her arm hurting from even this simple act.
"Come on..." the girl mumbles as her fingers brush against the half empty glass.
Her heart sinks, as one brush of her hand pulls the cup at just the wrong angle. It falls from the night table's edge, and disturbs the quiet peace with a loud shattering crash.
Her arm goes limp over the side of the bed, and she cringes.
She wants to cry.
Unable to do even so simple a task...
"Mmfmmm... Mireille...?" Risette is roused from her sleep from the loud sound.
...and let her treasured person rest.
Mirelle tries to say something, but a cough escapes her instead, her body failing her in even this. Blood trails down her lips, and then down her neck.
Risette rises from her rest, her protective arm leaving Mireille's side. Another barb in the sick girl's heart.
"Is everything okay? What was that?" she asks, as she scooches around the sick girl to get out of bed. "I'll get you a towel."
"R-Risettte... d-don't..." Mirelle tries her best to warn, but her coughing keeps getting in the way.
She's too late, again. Risette's feet swing over the bedside and touch the ground.
A gasp of pain rings out as the woman steps on a wet, glass-ridden floor, her legs shooting back upwards.
Another failure, Mireille has her hands at her throat to try to calm it, but she feels like she wants to strangle it.
"Oh... you dropped your glass..." Risette mumbles, as she grips her bleeding foot.
"I'm..." Mireille coughs, trying to sit up, but she's too weak, "s-sorry... I d-didn't want you... wake you... are you okay...?" she's finally able to speak, even if in a raspy manner.
"I'm alright, it's a shallow cut. I'll clean things up," Risette returns with a smile, her face illuminated by gentle moonlight from their small window. She reaches to her side, at the foot of the bed to light a small lantern. Wrapping a spare cloth around her cut foot, she gets to her feet, carefully avoiding any glass on the ground.
Mireille stews in silence, watching the woman clean up her mess without a care... even as she limps on a bandaged foot. She lights a candle, sweeps up the broken glass, then cleans up the water with one of the many rags meant for blood they keep in the room.
When she's done, Risette walks to the bedside again, leaning over a sad Mireille to use another cloth to clean the blood on her face.
"There we are," the woman says, "I'm going to go get another pitcher of water, and a bandage for myself. Perhaps a wooden or plastic cup as well. I'll be back in a few minutes, don't exert yourself, alright?"
"...Okay," Mirelle whispers, trying her best to sit up a bit, as Risette turns and leaves the room.
It's just a few minutes, but it's very lonely.
Mireille stares into one of her rags, its center covered with deep red stains.
"How much longer do I even have left...?" she muses to herself.
Things have been better since finding herself on the Grandcypher, with access to some incredible doctors, medicine, and resources. But it's not perfect, every time Mireille feels like she's found her footing, she slips and falls on her own blood.
It's the same thoughts she always has when she's sick, and alone.
‘Will I ever have a healthy body?’
‘Will I ever have children?’
‘Do I even deserve happiness?’
She coughs again, the rag to her face, the smell and taste of her own blood repulsive, even with how used to it she is.
Reaching behind her, to her bed's backboard, having an inbuilt shelf for basic amenities. Given how much time she spends in bed, it's rather needed...
She grabs a small handmirror, and takes a look at herself...
Mireille at least thinks she's cute... when her lips aren't caked with blood, hair messy, and eyes are bloodshot.
She was born a boy, but even from a young age she knew she was a girl.
Even as a child, even as she was sick, her parents believed in her, and supported her. They let her dress how she wanted, they allowed her to change her name, even rewriting her documents to make her their daughter. They did everything for her...
Now, having seen a wide berth of different experiences in her travels with the crew... She knows how rare this treatment of her was, and it's made her both miss, and appreciate them all the more.
Part of her wonders if it was pity, humoring a child on their deathbed to let their dreams come true. Maybe it was because they were wealthy, and they could afford to rewrite their child, knowing the outside world would never know.
But she knows that isn't true, when she's of the right mind at least.
Their love, their support, and their wealth is the only reason she could make it as far as she did.
She wanted to make a healthy body. It being a naturally female body was only a perk. She knew the feminizing medicine she took as soon as she could find out how to mix it, has made having a child extremely unlikely...
That, and she would prefer to be the soil, over being the seed.
It's just another fantasy for now though, but one she still hopes... still prays she can make reality.
Wiping a tear from her eye, she turns and places her mirror back behind her.
She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. She holds back a cough, and shakes. Being cold and sweaty is a nasty combo.
"Risette... please come back..." Mireille mumbles.
–3–
"Drink deep, Mireille," Risette whispers, finding it cute how the smaller girl can down nearly half a pitcher of water in moments.
"Hehe... I'm glad you haven't found joy in alcohol, you would put that little Draph nun to shame, I'm sure..." Risette jokes, Mireille returning a little embarrassed smile.
"Oh, goodness, don't say that... the last time I tried alcohol it made being sick so much worse..." the girl responds.
When Risette returned, she took the girl to the baths, and they got cleaned up. The heat and steam, the water and second shot of medicine has had Mireille feeling much better.
And she's glad... she loves to chat with Risette.
"I must have gotten that from you then," the taller of the two smiles, lounging next to Mireille, "I've tried it, and I don't like it at all. I just have juice whenever I spend any time at Raduga."
Mireille pouts, thinking about the few chances she's gotten to visit Ladiva's bar, "They're so nice there, and Ladiva is such a warm presence... I wish I could come more often."
"It is a shame they're only open at night, but that's the appeal, I suppose."
The smaller girl scooches further into bed, and rests her head on Risette's shoulder, the taller girl gladly wrapping her arm around Mireille's arm and snugging her close.
"I still don't understand why the common age of adulthood and the common age of being allowed to purchase alcohol is different..." Mireille muses, "I'm nineteen now... even if I don't look like it..." mumbling the last bit with a puffed up cheek, people still mistaking her for a teen all the time.
'It's not my fault... I'm stunted...' she thinks, and sighs.
"I'm lucky people don't ask me my age, I suppose..." Risette adds.
Mireille brings a hand to Risette's cheek, rubbing her pale, smooth skin. "You're a beautiful, well formed woman. You don't look like you're four, going on five..."
Risette grins, any praise from her dearest person enough to light a fire in her heart.
She puts a hand over Mireille's, before slowly leaning in.
The two close their eyes, and breathe in, as they feel their noses brush past each other.
They kiss, their heads tilted.
It's short, it's soft, but it feels like a healing wind through Mireille's sore body.
Warm breath on each other's faces, Risette's hands wrapping around the shorter woman's head.
Their matching emerald eyes stare deep, their blonde hair mingles. It's the one thing Risette is thankful Mireille was blessed with in comparison to her. Her hair and eyes... are so much more vibrant.
Resting foreheads, the two just enjoy being close together.
"I got my beauty from my mother..." Risette breaks the silence with a joke.
"Risette... don't call me your mother..." Mireille replies quietly, rubbing the back of her bedmate's neck.
"Hehe... I just like to tease you..."
"I know..."
Mireille and Risette have been lovers for years, eloping since the gap between Risette gaining her humanity, and them joining the Grandcypher's ranks.
They keep it rather hush-hush, especially given they tell most people that they are sisters, as it's easier to explain than 'she's my homunculus I made from my blood, given humanity from a philosopher's stone'. Technically, Mireille is her mother in a lot of ways.
They know it's muddy, from a moral standpoint, but Mireille and Risette's entire lives have been defined by muddy morality. What's one more 'sin' in the pile?
But even they have limits to their affections… lines they will not cross…
"I'm sorry for hurting you... earlier..." the shorter girl whispers.
Risette gives her a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, "Oh, my foot? It wasn't your fault. You may kiss it better if you think it will make you feel better, though..."
"Maybe later..." Mireille mumbles, feeling some warmth in her cheeks.
"Not in the mood for some affection? You know I never mind spoiling you... if it makes the fever go away, just a bit."
Risette recognizes the sigh that escapes Mireille's lips.
It's the mopey kind.
And she's used to dealing with it.
"I just wish-" Mireille starts, but trails off as Risette blindsides her.
The taller woman swings her long, slender leg over Mireille's hip, all while holding on around her shoulders. Within seconds, Risette's warm affectionate gaze falls away, for an almost predatory, blank stare. Straddling the smaller girl, both of her hands rest on Mireille's cheeks, and she revels in how flustered she's made her lover.
She knows how to make the girl listen.
"I know you're sad tonight, Mireille. I'm sad for you. That you and I can't be with everyone, laughing, dancing, and partying. That you're sick, that I'm healthy. That it's another year gone by, and we're no closer to finding a solution to your illness. That you hurt me, because of a clumsy mistake."
Risette rubs her cheeks, and shushes her as her eyes start to well.
"We're together. We live another day. And that's all I could ever want on this holy night..." Risette finishes, her smile returning.
Mireille does her best to return the smile, knowing Risette is completely correct.
"I love you, Risette... my smile..."
"I love you, Mireille... my miracle..."
They wrap their arms around each other, even though Risette straddles the smaller girl... she doesn't put much weight onto the sick girl, nor does she embrace too tight.
It's care, it's warmth protecting her from a cold world.
Mireille feels Risette's warm breath on her ear before receiving a holiday miracle.
"I was... going to give you your gift in the morning, but... I feel you need it now..." Risette whispers, soft as a cloud.
The girl hums in curiosity, already feeling like she got her gift. She loves the feeling of being surrounded, the weight just enough to be warm without being suffocating.
"What is it, Risette?"
Mireille shudders with a long, warm breath on her ear. Risette straddles her a tad tighter, rubbing her crotch against her lover’s.
"If... it's... affection I don't think I'm in the mood, I'm still sore..." the sick girl mumbles apologetically.
Risette reveals her secret; one she's been dying to tell.
"Last month... I was curious..." she begins to whisper, "I brought a bit of your blood and mine to Master Cagliostro... I wanted... to see just how similar we were."
The two had assumed they were more or less identical genetically, given Risette was a homunculus made from Mireille's blood.
That may have very well been the case at one time, but...
"Mireille... aside from our hair and eyes... we're almost entirely different..."
The alchemist gasps, "b-but... how? You were made from my-"
"Cagliostro theorizes... it was from... either the philosopher's stone, or more likely... all the other genetic material I ingested while I was still a homunculus..." Risette tries to explain, but her voice trails off as she gets reminded of her sins.
But, her sins seem like a blessing today.
"We only share slightly more genetic make up than the average human does to another... We're... s-safe, Mireille..." she delivers the news reverently like the miracle it is.
Mireille starts to shake, feeling her eyes well up again.
"So that means... w-we...?" she asks with a quaking voice.
"I could bear your child, Mireille..." Risette confirms, hugging her love closer.
The emotions overtake them. Years of dreams come true.
They had always wanted to make a family together, but their genetic link made that a near impossibility. Even if Mireille was healthy, even if she had a new body, it was just impossible.
Is it even okay for them to entertain such thoughts? The fact that all the death Risette, and by extension, Mireille, inflicted upon others... be the reason they can bear a new life now?
At this moment, for once, it doesn’t matter. They simply focus on their own happiness.
They focus on the fact that they can be closer than ever before.
They gently sob, and embrace tightly.
Even as Mireille coughs, and her body reminds her of her mortality.
She's happy.
"R-Risette?"
"Yes, Mireille?"
The alchemist takes a deep breath, "...C-could you help me undress?"
"Are we going to try right now?" Risette whispers an honest question.
"Y-yes... I..." she sniffles, "want to believe... that any day could bear a miracle for us… So better to start trying early, right?"
Risette feels herself warm up, feeling an urge of hunger. She hums in Mireille's ear, and smiles.
"I can already feel you getting excited..." Risette murmurs, wiggling in the smaller girl's lap.
Mireille's hands rub down Risette's back, to her waist, and her hips, rubbing through her nightgown...
"R-Risette... I... want you..." Mireille mumbles, feeling herself getting hotter.
Her mind circulates with fantasy... bearing new life... making sweet love with Mireille without a single barrier in place...
...and all without the weight of feeling dirty and immoral.
"You put something in my medicine, didn't you?" Mireille asks, unsure if it's just the news that has her feeling so aroused.
"I only upped the dosage to give you a bit more strength... because I expected this outcome..." she replies honestly, punctuating it with a warm smooch to the smaller girl's neck.
She takes a deep breath, before pleading, "T-then get me out of my clothes already..."
–4–
The two girls sit upright against each other, free of the confines of clothing or restraint.
Their bosoms pushed together, Risette takes the lead, holding the back of Mireille's head while they press in for deep, hazy kisses.
Mireille has always been shy in the bedroom, letting Risette take control... either for her lack of strength, or her shame in herself.
But, immediately, she can tell things are different this time. The smaller woman holds Risette's head close with both hands, making sure she can't escape... not that she would ever want to.
"Mmf... ahhahh..." Mireille squeals between close, wet kisses. Her face is red, her breathing is heavy, but her emerald eyes stay focused on Risette's.
Risette is no less flustered, but manages to stay balanced. "Y-you... usually don't get... excited this fast..." she whispers, before pressing her lips and tongue against Mireille's once more.
The two women are fairly similar, understandably. While Risette is tall, well-built, and perfect by most definitions, mostly in terms of beauty... Mireille could easily be mistaken as a younger version of her. The same pale skin, breasts that should grow with age, less muscle, and a cuter overall complexion. They most likely would look similar in more regards if it weren't for the sickly girls' constitution stunting growth, as well as...
"Hah... R-Risette... easy... easy..." Mireille pleads, her thighs quaking as the other girl squeezes the life from her.
The alchemist, despite her tiny stature, is gifted... or cursed... with a very large endowment. Long and veiny, with a bright pink tip surrounded by a hood of sensitive skin. Not all too girthy, but impressive nonetheless.
There was a time when it was a source of hatred for herself, a reminder of that she'd 'never be a woman', but it's become increasingly irrelevant over time.
She needs a new body to escape her sickness first and foremost, having a 'naturally female body' is just the icing on top.
That doesn't mean she can't enjoy it for now...
...and as of tonight, it may even be the blessing she's always desired.
Between them, with her free hand snaked between their stomachs, the former homunculus has her fingers wrapped around Mireille's stiff erection. It's at full mast, and leaking fair bits of watery pre down its length, and all over Risette's hand.
"Don't worry... I want every drop of you... inside me..." A deep voice, almost predatory, but loving at the same time.
Risette rubs her thumb over Mireille's throbbing crown, making the small woman squeal.
"Every little chance... I'll wring it from you..." her voice dripping with lust.
Mireille shakes and huffs, "Ris... R-Risette..."
Covered in sweat, pale skin rosy with arousal, and a deep aching in both women. Risette releases her lover's shaft, the erect length drooping and falling against the taller girl's belly button, a wet dripping pooling and dripping down her tummy, down to her blonde haired navel. Perhaps it's a shared trait, as Risette drips just as much, making a wet patch in the bedding she sits upon.
"Mireille?" Risette asks, looking deep into her lover's eyes.
Mireille's thighs quiver, even the feeling of herself throbbing against Risette's belly is enough to have her on edge. Her desire to pounce, to love, to procreate, is all too overwhelming... it holds her back. She can't even give a response other than a deep, raspy breath.
And even though their goal is very clear on that holy night, Risette can’t help herself but want to drag it out just a little while longer.
She leans away from Mireille, who looks at her through the haze of lust, confusion on her face.
“R-Risette…?” she asks, quietly.
Risette does not answer, but instead guides her with her touch, her hand still resting against the back of Mireille’s head. She gently lowers her down into the soft bedding, and lets her lean back, propped up against the pillows. Brushing away a strand of beautiful blonde hair from her strained face, Risette stares at Mireille with utmost affection, her eyes full of dedication.
“Let me appreciate you a little bit… My miracle…” she whispered salaciously, holding back the desire building up in her chest. She cherishes the burn, reminding her that she is alive and thriving. The faint memory of ecstasy she experienced when devouring flesh absolutely pales in comparison to the dizzying heights of pleasure she feels wash over her when she only but gazes at Mireille.
Mireille, for her part, shies away from the intense and loving gaze, but Risette understands it as being just a sign of her being self-conscious, and not any rebuke of her affections. They understand one another so well, after all. They are unique individuals, but in some weird, perhaps slightly twisted way, they are one and the same.
A small nod follows, and Risette takes it as a full leave to turn her worshipping gaze into something more tangible and real. She leans in and plants the softest of gentle kisses on Mireille’s cheek, soft lips brushing against her pale, sweat-coated skin. Others might have considered the smaller woman a mess, but Risette appreciates every single aspect of Mireille, no matter how repulsive it might be to others.
Then, her lips move lower, tracing along the faint outline of bite marks which remained from their sordid past. If it was anyone else, anything else, Mireille would have recoiled immediately. But it is her precious Risette. The one whom she was willing to give her entire body for the sake of, to nourish her previously unsteady, ephemeral existence.
In a strange way, she finds the thought thrilling. Shouldn’t she be repulsed at the thought of those perfect, pearly white teeth sinking into her flesh and carving out a piece of her? But, in the heat of desire and affection, it feels exciting. Just another way for the both of them to become one.
Risette does not do anything remotely as intense, simply resting affectionate, loving kisses along Mireille’s skin, her touches careful as she brushes against the smaller woman’s shoulders.
Mireille’s breath hitches as Risette’s trail of appreciation reaches her humble bosom. Just another thing she felt extremely self-conscious about, but judging by Risette’s reverence with which she kissed upon her lover’s breast, one might expect it to be the most shapely, gorgeous pair in the entire Sky Realm.
This is how Risette’s affection makes Mireille feel. Each kiss a silent prayer of worship, which feels delightfully fitting considering the usual outfit Risette chooses to hold onto after all these years when she’s out and about, invoking an image of a dutiful nun. To this day Mireille isn’t sure why she chose to dress her creation in such a way; especially considering she originally meant to wear the garb herself. In the end, however, it fits their dynamic perfectly.
At the moment, however, Risette is wearing not a nun’s habit, but a reverent smile on her face, as her kisses continue down every inch of Mireille’s body, each brush of lips like a pulse rekindling her desire and making her throb with renewed vigor.
“R-Risette… This is… Aaah…” Mireille weakly pleads. Whether she wants for release or for the sweet worship to continue further, she doesn’t even know herself.
Risette, though, is not done yet, and she finally arrives at Mireille’s stomach, and the length twitching against it. With a playful smirk, she appreciates the way Mireille’s impressive womanhood stands tall and proud, completely covered in almost clear liquid dripping from the tip.
“You’re beautiful…” Another prayer leaves her lips as she leans in and graces the desperate crown with a warm breath and a fleeting kiss, steadily moving down the length with kiss after kiss, the scent of Mireille’s heat making her dizzy with her own desire. She wants to finish what she started, however, and she continues on.
Ever so carefully cradling the base of Mireille’s endowment as if it was a pair of precious jewels, Risette kisses it gently, making the smaller woman twitch. A small gesture, but a very telling one. The hungry stare which Risette gives Mireille basically all but screams a wish for the seed within to prove itself to be potent, a prayer for fertility.
The dutiful servant of her goddess does not linger, however, and her pilgrimage continues lower and lower, through the curves of Mireille’s thighs, across her knees, and down her shins. Even her dainty feet are not spared the affection, Risette cradling them gently in her hands as she presses her lips against them. The parallel to her earlier injury and tease is clear, and it makes Mireille twitch all the more.
Finally having her fill of this devoted ritual, Risette sits back and spreads her legs, the scent of her own desire hitting Mireille’s overwhelmed senses like a crashing wave. She can see how much the process was affecting Risette as well, her thighs completely covered in slick wetness and her petals absolutely dripping.
With that gesture, Risette exposing herself for Mirelle’s hungry gaze, one final prayer leaves her lips, her voice trembling with the weight of it. Simple, but to the point.
"Give me a child... your child... our child..."
That's enough to rekindle the sickly girl’s hunger to give her love everything she wants.
Mireille dives in and pushes Risette forward with renewed vigor, the taller woman groaning as she does. She lays back, raising her legs to expose her slick womanhood, dripping down between her pale cheeks. She spreads her arms much the same, gladly inviting Mireille further in.
She doesn't have to wait long, the smaller girl meeting their waists together, remaining just a bit higher up. Her breath grows heavier, feeling her lengthy shaft sliding against her lover's flower. The two have never connected without a layer of rubber, and even then, Mireille was never able to put her heart into it in fear of some failure of their layers of birth protection. Now...
All she wants is that bare connection; not a worry of failure, only the hope of success.
A perfect view of her lover, of her welcoming smile.
Her bosom, she lays her hands upon them to gently grope and squeeze them if only for a few moments, her small fingers brushing over her erect buds. She wonders how they would change with a child inside of her...
Her beautiful face, with rosy cheeks, her faded emerald eyes staring deep into her own. She brings her hands upon her, gently rubbing her cheeks, and over her lips, Risette's warm breath ever comforting. She patiently waits for Mireille to begin, even with her gentle grin, the small girl can still tell she is filled with lust. The feeling of her strong legs around herself, telling her that Risette isn't going to let her free until she has a full belly...
Mireille wishes she was taller, so she could have their heads meet... but the most she can do is have her face between Risette's breasts, which isn't bad by any means, but how she wishes she could kiss and whisper in her ears...
Risette's arms lift, and lazily hang around Mireille's neck. Her pale, beautiful neck that she so loves to kiss… to apologize for the faint scars upon it, from a time she twice fed on her blood…
The alchemist feels her hips idly hump, the base of her shaft slick with Risette's arousal.
Being rubbed against feels good for Risette... but it's not what she actually wants. What she needs.
"Mireille... W-what are you waiting for?" She asks, seemingly out of breath. She wants to pull the small girl tight, feel her thrust with vigor... but as always, she's patient and accepting.
"I'm... hah..." Mireille whimpers, giving her a lazy smile, her messy blonde hair trailing about her cute face, "just c-counting my blessings..."
"Please... I want to feel you... so d-deep within me..." Risette pleads, feeling her lust overtaking her patience.
The short girl nods, backing up her hips... and needing to do so quite a bit, to line up her length with Risette's entrance. While one arm keeps her up, her other snakes to her shaft to help it find purchase. She's too long -and much too impatient- to wing it anymore, not after the long preamble.
Soon enough, Risette sighs as she feels herself pierced, her lover's crown burying inside her. The feeling of her bare, spongy skin... it's enough to make her quake in an instant.
Her arms drape down from Mireille's neck, down her smooth back, to the small of it, trailing through her hair and sweat. She wraps her arms around her waist, and takes a deep breath.
"Give it to me... I want it all... let me be selfish..." Risette whispers, "please... my mother... my creator..."
With a flustered smile, unable to hold herself back, and with hands guiding her waist, she starts to push forward.
The two exhale, as it begins. They both get to enjoy the feeling of their sensitive skin slipping against the other's. Mireille's long, sensitive shaft feels as if it's home, deep into Risette's tight, silken passage. Warm... wet... like an embrace.
Though Risette would never admit it, she had practiced with toys over years so she could take the full length of her lover without a problem. It didn't take too long, but the two almost never have sex like this, so she's always felt nervous about it.
So to feel her so eager, so... hard... and determined... It's a dream come true, and it's written on her smile.
"R-Risette..." Mireille gasps as she pushes, and pushes, finally hilting herself fully. Her sack rests cozy against Risette's well formed rump, just as her crown pokes her lover's deepest place.
"Mireille..." Risette returns, staring at the smaller girl's labored face, "please... make me a mother too..." she begs, putting her entire being into pleading to the small girl. She needs to set her off, to push her, to show her just how much she wants this.
The girl on top gives a shaky nod, suckling on her bottom lip, before dragging back her hips just a bit, keeping herself half-hilted... and letting herself fall forward.
The two’s moans mingle together in the otherwise quiet chamber, the sounds of revelry on the ship a distant, and unimportant, background hum. Mireille’s voice is shrill and girly, contrasted by Risette’s deeper, but no less pleased one. The small girl's arms shake, doing their best to keep her afloat above Risette.
She knows she doesn't have the strength to keep this up for long, but she needs to do this, she needs to fulfill their dreams.
Risette only pushes her forward. "Please... Mireilleee..." she groans, keeping her mouth wide open, and giving her the most lustful stare she can.
Mireille grits her teeth, and summons all the strength in her weak body.
She draws back, and thrusts again, just barely holding back a moan.
Again, again, again, again again again...
The pair’s room fills with the sounds of love, moaning, groaning, chanting of names, affirmations of affection, and wet slick skin smacking against skin.
Their sweaty skin glides together, Risette takes great pleasure in seeing Mireille give herself a work out. The sight of her tired, sweaty face is a guilty pleasure, just as the way her perky breasts swing back and forth.
Mireille feels she has no strength, but she keeps finding more. Maybe it's the sight of her lover's pleasured face, her beautiful moans, her perfect large bosom jiggling with each thrust. Her ministrations are not strong, but they are earnest, and she puts her everything into every movement.
"Risss...ahahah... Risette!" Mireille stammers, as her arms finally give out, her body falling atop Risette's. "I'm s-so close... I can't d-do it though..." her body is on fire, even just a few minutes of sex enough to totally wind her.
Risette's hands leave her waist, trailing up to her back.
"Mireille... you're s-so close... I'm s-so close... I'm begging you... g-give me a baby... I want one so bad..." she pleads, looking into the smaller girl’s tired emerald eyes, trying to polish them for one last stint.
The taller girl starts to gyrate her hips, flex her thighs around Mireille's hips, anything to get just that little bit more.
She's so comfortable though, hilted within her love... feeling their combined arousals trailing down her sack, easing her sore thighs. But she needs to keep going... She can't give up now.
And so she does, only able to withdraw herself just enough to swing herself forward, using Risette's body as a pendulum to give her the strength she needs.
"Yes... y-yes... y-yes!" Risette nearly chants, hugging her love tight.
It's sudden, but she knows as soon as Mireille begins to shudder and shake... that the time has finally come, along with her lover.
"Risettteee... I'm... c-c--" the small girl stammers, but Risette gently shushes her, tightening her legs and hugging her to keep Mireille as close as she can.
For the first time, Mireille climaxes without a hint of guilt. All the better, it's deep within Risette. Filling her love with her love.
Just as Risette feels a foreign, warm feeling within herself.
The two both pray for just a moment, for a small miracle.
"Shh... shh..." Risette whispers, smiling at Mireille's face smooshed between her boobs.
It's silent for a time, the two enjoying only the sound of their heavy breathing, and the distant echoes of holiday cheer.
Mireille's hands wrap under Risette, to hug her just as tight.
"I'm..." she stammers, before a light raspy breath, "out... of s-strength..."
"Oh, Mireille... my love... that's alright..." Risette returns, a hand trailing up to her head to brush her hair with her fingers.
With a grin, Risette shows that she has more than enough strength in her.
In a flash, and a squeal from Mireille, she flips their bodies over next to them, so that she's on top.
"Hah..." Risette exhales, her bosom pushing Mireille's red face into the bedding, before she lifts herself.
Straddling over Mireille's thighs, she looks down upon the girl. Tired, sore, and red... but her eyes still have that spark of desire in them. They look upon her in a splendor she can’t help but revel in.
"Every..." Risette whispers, before taking a finger to her lips, then slowly dragging it down to her chin, down her neck, between her bust, circling around her tummy, before ending at her matted, slick patch of hair at her navel. She lifts the slick, wet finger, and makes a show of licking it, to a very heated Mireille.
"...drop." she finishes after suckling on her finger.
Mireille feels herself throb and shake. She’s never seen Risette like this.
Her mind cleared from the immediate haze of lust, for a moment, the intensity of Risette’s gaze scares her a bit. It reminds her of the hunger for blood she and their victims once had… and with her mind less unfocused, it brings some more uneasy feelings to mind.
All it takes, though, is a single, caring rub from Risette against her sore arm, the one that she was using to hold herself up…
That care, that love that seeps through even her lustiest hunger…
It’s everything.
"It's my turn to be a mommy... alright?" she asks, tilting her head.
Mireille simply nods a few times, too stunned to even say anything.
"I'll do all the work..." she continues, lifting herself off of Mireille's sore thighs, using her own strong legs.
She loves how far she has to lift herself, she loves her long sensitive cock, she loves making the smaller girl into a blushing moaning mess, but most of all...
"R-R-Risette!!!" the girl moans loudly, her neck craning back, lifting her back, her hands gripping the sheets.
Most of all... she just loves Mireille.
Putting her hands on either side of the girl's head to keep her aloft, she looks down upon her, with nothing but a loving, but lusty smile.
"Now be a good girl... and give mommy a full tummy..." she asks, before lifting her hips again, and dropping them, feeling the slick drill within her trailing with her excess seed.
"Y-y-yes! I w-will!!!" Mireille assures, looking up at the beauty above her. How she'll do anything for her.
Anything.
Even as the echoes of holiday cheer calm through the halls of the Grandcypher, the strange noises from the room of the apprentice alchemists' room continue. Mireille only has the strength for just a while longer, leaving her exhausted, and sleeping in the comfort of her lover’s bosom. Risette is as happy as she’s ever been. Feeling the warmth in her belly, she dreams of a healthy child, living a long, happy life. Mireille… living a long, happy life. With her.
Mireille is as happy as she’s ever been. Knowing that even if her time is running out, they’ll find a solution, and that they have a path to happiness together. She dreams of a small home in a small village, with a full loving family… having given penance for her sins.
They still have a long road in front of them. One with pain, suffering, hardship, and assuredly, loss.
But the light at the end of their tunnel has grown brighter.
A holy night indeed.
–5–
"Sick on the holy day huh? Shame..." the genius founder of alchemy, Cagliostro, says.
"Mhm. Yes, thankfully it's mostly just exhaustion," Risette replies, standing still with a plain face.
The two of them stand around in Cagliostro's lab, the small girl hopping about her lab in a festive outfit.
"Well, you can tell her~" the cute girl says, her voice raising, "that her master wishes her well, and has a gift for her!"
Grabbing a small, wrapped box from one of her shelves of trinkets, Cagliostro hands it to Risette with a wide smile.
"...Master?" Risette asks, looking at the small box in her hands, the red ribbon and blue wrapping very typical of Cagliostro.
"Yes, my deft apprentice?"
"You're still willing to help test me for signs of pregnancy?" the former homunculus asks.
Cag rolls her eyes.
"Yes, yes..." her voice lowers, both in tone and in volume, "of course..."
"Thank you," Risette returns, still just standing still, her arms respectfully crossed low.
The smaller girl sighs, clicking her fingers and alchemising a spinning chair next to her, which she sits in.
"...You know the chances she'll have viable seed are very, very low, right?" the alchemist asks. "Mireille's body is a mess of illness and long-term medicinal abuse, especially with her hormones. You could be trying for years without success," Cag spins as her chair, trying to look cute even as she talks seriously.
"I know, but..."
Risette's near emotionless face finally relaxes, and she smiles.
"...I believe in miracles."
Cagliostro smiles back, without a hint of falsehood.
"As both of you should."