#also anon i love you and i am cradling your head in my hands

[shy-writer-999]

I’ve never actually said (written???) this to anyone before but I need to say it. I need to get it out there.

I’m a slut for the idea of somnophilia with Ace. I feel like that’s a fairly common thing (or at least, I’ve seen it a few times?), but I’ve never actually admitted it. I wanna wake him up by sucking on his cock until he comes to and starts face fucking me and calling me his good girl, or riding him until he comes deep inside and I only realize he’s awake when he starts talking about how pretty I look rocking on his dick. I want him to get me even closer to coming myself with his morning voice alone because you know it’s damn good. Just. Hnnngh. I want iiittt.

*reaches for my vibrator*

what a lovely picture you have painted for me. like if ace told you he's really into it, you'd have absolutely noooo problem meeting that need. i'm sure he'd love it. also holy shit I love anything that entails the phrase “good girl." anyways, i came up with around ~1k words based on your prompt, but i'm not sure it is as good as what you came up with! check it out under the cut (≧◡≦) i'll edit this more tomorrow!

**but first, a note! i am here for the somnophilia as long as there's established consent beforehand and DUHHHH ik that's implied but perhaps i ought to state that! so, let that previously established consent stand for the smut below! also, you mentioned that somno is common, and i would like to confirm that, at least in my personal experience, many men eat that shit up. so… feel no shame in admitting that, anon, because its very real and iconic of u to like the idea. 💅💅 (if i do say so myself LOL)

Ace + Somnophilia

It was around 5AM and you couldn’t sleep. Ace took up the entire bed, starfishing it while you were curled up next to him, cheek resting on his chest. Considering the fact that you’d just woken up from a steamy dream, there was one thing on your mind. Heat was blooming at your core and you could feel wetness pooling between your legs already. There was only one solution, which happened to be one of Ace’s favorite things.

You crept your hand towards the bulge in Ace’s boxer briefs and ran a palm over it. He was such a heavy sleeper that it didn’t register. His deep breaths continued, quiet and comforting. You continued to pass your hand over his cock, massaging his balls briefly through the fabric and grinding your palm down. He got hard so fast, but his breathing didn’t change at all—he was sound asleep.

Sitting up slowly, you scooted off the bed so that you could walk around and climb back up, this time positioned between his knees. You knew that one of his favorite things was to wake up with his cock in your mouth—and what a perfect time for it, since you couldn’t sleep. On your knees between his wide-spread thighs, you tugged at the waistband of his boxers until they were low enough to give you access to his cock. It was large and veiny. In the muted morning light trickling in through the half-covered window, you could see just enough to tell that his tip was already pink and enflamed.

You were careful not to wake him as you grasped his shaft and stoked it lazily a couple of times. You licked a long, wet stripe from base to tip and repeated the motion until you started to taste milky white pearls of precum seeping from him.

He was still asleep.

After a few minutes of slowly licking his shaft and sucking the precum from his slit, you reached a hand up to softly cradle his balls. At the same time, you finally took his whole length into your mouth. You could feel and taste his precum at the back of your tongue as you sucked your cheeks in and started to bob up and down on his cock.

You sucked him off for a few minutes, alternating between cradling his balls with one hand and dragging your fingers over his shaft with the other. You were getting lost in it, so focused on the process of sucking him off that you didn’t realize when his hands tangled in your hair and pushed your head down. He bucked his hips up at the same time, making you gag on his length as it poked the back of your throat. He held you like that for a second, taking in the warm, slippery feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth.

Ace groaned, half awake. “Good morning, beautiful.” His voice was scratchy and husky, not warmed up yet from his pleasure-filled awakening. When his voice got like this in the morning it made you feel feral—something about that deep and gravelly sound made you need him more than usual.

He pulled your head up until your lips were wrapped around his head, and then plunged you down on it, eliciting another filthy noise as you gagged on him again. He was fully awake now “Fuckkkk, its so early and you’re already taking it for me like a good girl.”

He proceeded to face fuck you until you were a mess—his precum was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, your hands were covered in your own spit, and every sound he made went straight to your cunt. You were dripping wet and dying for his touch, wishing he’d put his cock in you and fuck you until you couldn’t talk anymore. But instead, he was fucking your face for now.

Your breaths were labored. You used every shred of control to breathe through your nose, but his cock was twitching and his hands didn’t give you any reprieve. “Just like that, baby. ‘M gonna fuck your mouth full, just like you wanted. You gonna swallow my cum, sweetheart? Every last drop?” You attempted to nod but you were unsuccessful, on account of his hands tightly gripping your head. He could tell that you were trying to nod, at least.

His hips jerked upwards every time he pushed your head down. The choking, muffled sounds you made were vibrating his cock. “Hang in there, just a little bit longer. There’s my girl.”

By the time he came down your throat, you were so far gone that you swallowed his seed without a second thought. He pulled you off his cock with a popping noise, and you crawled up his chest and collapsed.

“You can’t give up yet, sugar. Don’t you want to ride me first?”

[quicktosimp]

Little Teeth

Warnings: Birthing, Jake being a slight perv, and excessive use of the word "fuck", otherwise it's pure fluff

Words: 9k

A/N: Finally got around to finsihing this fic! I have had so much fun writing this. Thank you so much @loaksxhoe, for giving us your headcanons on @pandoraslxna, when you were still an anon. I love you so much Roomie 😘

Jake and Neytiri didn’t take long to have a baby, and then right after Neytiri fell pregnant, we found that Grace’s avatar had also become pregnant. No one knows how, but what we do know is that two little babies will be born soon. Jake and Neytiri had already agreed to take in Grace’s baby, and as their third mate, I will be right there with them, helping along the way with two little ones. The firstborn was little Neteyam, a boy, followed quickly by Grace’s baby, a little girl named Kiri. Life with two infants is exhausting in all the best ways. Even though every moment is spent with one of the two little ones, it couldn’t be more perfect.

And then Neytiri announced she was pregnant. I made plenty of jokes about na’vi contraceptives, but I was elated about there being a new member of our family soon. Now, with a third on the way, things have been put into overdrive. Thankfully, with preparing for the first two, we didn’t need much more, but by Eywa’s grace, would Neytiri please slow down! She’s seven months pregnant, Neteyam strapped to her back, and is bow fishing! I demanded her to either sit down or hand me Neteyam…

“Neytiri love, you are heavily pregnant and carrying Neteyam; please let me take some of the load for you!”

Without seeing her face, I know she’s giving me that glare full of fondness, “I am well aware that I am pregnant, but that does not stop my duties.” she draws her bow, and the beautiful yellow and green feathers fan her cheek.

Rolling my eyes, “Oh wow, I didn’t remember seeing any of the other pregnant women hunting or fishing. I also don’t remember seeing anyone hunting or fishing with their babies strapped to their backs at all. Maybe I’m just blind.” I walk up, and Neteyam notices me. I started to play with the little foot that I could reach, “Let me take Neteyam, and you can have your fun fishing to your heart's content.” I bargain, Neteyam’s little giggles doing wonders for my case. 

With a sigh, Neytiri slowly drops her bow and slides Neteyam off her back. I grab him and cradle him to my chest. His big eyes stare up at me with glee.

“Hello, little mister,” I coo as Neteyam babbles happily, “Have you had fun fishing with Sa’nu?” I asked him, knowing he didn’t understand. But enjoying the attention, he continues to babble excitedly and squeal, communicating with me in a language only he understands. His bright green eyes stare into mine with the love and devotion only a child can hold.

A large hand cups my face, and Neytiri gently leads me to look at her, “You are perfect with our kids, and every day, I fall more and more in love with you,” She lays a gentle kiss on my lips.

I smile into our kiss, bringing our lips to meet again until a tiny hand smacked at my face. I looked at Neteyam; he was disgruntled, like I had ruined his little baby life. 

“It seems our ‘Itan is jealous. He doesn’t like Sa’nu taking all of his Mama’s attention,” Neytiri cooed at our son.

“Ma!” 

Neytiri and I turned our heads to look at Neteyam, surprised and joyful.

“Did he just?” I cut myself off.

“Yes, he did, Syulang. See if he’ll do it again!” She exclaimed, her hand covering her smile.

I look at Neteyam excitedly, “Neteyam, are you saying Mama? Mama!” I emphasized to him.

“Ma! Ma! Ma-ma!” His little fists raised in the air as he chants my name.

“Oh my goodness!” I squeal as tears prick at my eyes, excited to hear and be his first word. I kiss his cheek repeatedly, causing him to erupt in giggles.

“Oh my ‘Itan, you have always been a Sa’nu’s boy, yet you say Mama first,” Neytiri teases him, rubbing her nose against his cheek. 

Happy that the attention is back on him, he throws his head back in giggles as he claps his hands.

“I can’t believe it! Neteyam’s first word!” I gush over him.

“He is blessed,” Neytiri muttered, holding the two of us.

A thought suddenly hit me, “Jake’s going to be so upset. He missed Kiri crawling for the first time, too.”

“Ba, I told our Skxawng that she was going to start moving soon, yet he still went on that hunting trip,” She exclaims, rolling her eyes.

“Still, I feel kinda bad,” I worry, continuing to kiss Neteyam’s cheek, not wanting him to be upset after such a big thing.

“Jake will just have to work harder with this one.” Neytiri rubs her taunt stomach. 

“I cannot wait for this little one to join us,” I bring my hand to her stomach, feeling the little one inside.

Looking at the two of us, Neteyam lays his chubby hand on Neytiri’s stomach, “Your tsmukan prrnen is in there,” I explain softly.

Neteyam softly coos as he holds his hand on his Sa’nu’s belly. Suddenly, Neteyam yanks his hand back before angrily babbling, scawolling at her stomach. 

I looked at Neteyam questioningly as Neytiri laughed, “Our youngest just kicked Neteyam’s hand.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing as well, seeing Neteyam scold his unborn brother, unknown babbles and grizzles leaving him, making him sound like an angry bee. 

“Alright, my little buzzing bee, it’s time for us to go home,” I comment to Neteyam, caressing his cheek bringing his attention back to me, “Enjoy your fishing, my love,” I lay a kiss on Neytiri’s lips.

“Thank you, Yawne, you two enjoy your day,” With that, we go our separate ways.

The walk back to the village was long, as Neytiri likes to fish in more remote areas, but Neteyam and I enjoyed our stroll. I showed him many different plants and rocks. If they were safe, then I’d put them in his little hands as he learns to move them properly. Feel the texture in his hands and mouth as he learns.

Nearing the village, I hear the sound of pa’li and their riders nearby, “Do you hear that, Neteyam? Those are pa’li and their riders. The riders are brave warriors who protect the clan,” I explain diligently. 

Neteyam’s ears flicker, his eyes shifting between me and the sounds he hears. Soon, the pa’li riders show themselves, led by Tsu’tey.

“Oel ngati kameie, Tsu’tey,” I greet friendly, doing the movement the best I could with a squirming Neteyam.

Tsu’tey returns the gesture, “Oel ngati kameie, (Y/N), Neteyam,” Tsu’tey turns his attention to the wiggling baby, “He seems active today,” A grin shows on his face.

“I think he woke up from his nap just in time to see me. Gives his Sa’nu peace and quiet, leaving his Mama with a wiggle butt,” I joke.

Neteyam turns his head to me, “Ma! Ma ma ma-ma.” He babbles on.

“Well, he wasn’t doing that yesterday,” Tsu’tey commented, “Does Neytiri and Jake know that you’re Neteyam’s favorite?” He teases.

“I don’t know if I’m his favorite. It’s just easier for babies to use an ‘M’ sound than the ‘S.’” I shrug off, “But yes, Neytiri was there to hear his words. Unfortunately, I have not yet seen Jake today,” I explain.

Tsu’tey slowly shakes his head, “I swear those two wait for Jake to leave before doing something,” 

I laugh at his reasoning, “Neteyam, I believe it is bad timing. Kiri, on the other hand, I see the look in that girl's eyes. She’s doing it on purpose.” I laugh joyfully.

“Is that why Jake takes her with him everywhere? Now, Jake has always been good at caring for the babies, but I feel like I haven't seen him without Kiri attached to his chest for the past two months.” Tsu’tey asks, picking fun of my mate.

“I believe so. Jake had Kiri for 48 hours straight, with plenty of playtime and cuddling. Now Jake had Kiri on her back, playing with her. The moment that he went to go to the bathroom, she rolled herself over and started crawling!” I exclaimed, telling my favorite story.

“No wonder my brother refuses to let go of her! But now he may do the same with this little one,” Tsu’tey comments, laughing at my mate's plight.

“What will he do when our third is born? He can’t carry them all,” I enjoy the mental image that gives me,

“He will try, that is for sure,” Tsu’tey grins as he looks around, “Where is Neytiri? Surely you are not by yourself?” The grin slowly faded from his face.

“Neytiri is restless. She is bow fishing down by her favorite creak.” I shrug.

“She should still not leave you alone. The animals have been restless lately.” He pursed his lips, “Come here and hop on. I will bring you back to the village.” 

I thought to argue, but I was already tired from the walk, and Neteyam was getting restless, “Thank you, Tsu’tey,” I walked towards him, and he easily picked the two of us up, settling us in front of him.

“Of course, I am glad to be of help,” He responds before he urges his pa’li onward at a slow pace.

Neteyam, interested in the pa’li, reached out and patted the fin atop its head, “Yes, Neteyam, this is a pa’li, Tsu’tey’s pa’li. Tsu’tey is your uncle,” I ramble on to Neteyam.

“Uncle? I am not familiar with that word.” Tsu’tey inquired.

“It is an English word, an honorific; it is what children call the brother of their parents. I explain to him.

“And you are teaching Neteyam to call me that?” His tail swished joyfully.

“Yes, you were a brother to Neytiri first, growing up alongside her. Then you became a brother to Jake and me. We all proved ourselves during the war. You are our brother, and we agreed we like the name and want you to be called that by our kids,” I offered.

“This is a great honor, thank you,” Tsu’tey reaches around, placing a hand on Neteyam’s head.

“It is an honor for us to have you as a brother. I am always thankful to call you brother, and I am honored for my children to grow up with you around.” I explain heartfully.

“I promise to always live up to that name,” He responds dutifully.

“I know you will, Brother,” Looking back, I smile at him.

The rest of the ride back to the village was filled with idle chatter, Neteyam babbling along with us, believing he was adding to the conversation. Tsu’tey and I indulged him; every time he babbled, we would respond to him with wows or agreements, encouraging him to babble more.

Tsu’tey brought us to the village entrance before helping us down, “You two enjoy your day. I will be back later, hopefully with one of your run-away mates,” He explains, turning his pa’li around.

I give a small laugh at his choice of words, “Thank you, Tsu’tey; however, I will enjoy my time with Neteyam. It has been a while since he has had one one-on-one with his Mama,” I explain cheekily. 

“Got it. I will not look for them too hard,” He agrees, matching my grin. 

“Stay safe, Tsu’tey.” I nod before heading to my kelku.

Being mated to the Olo’eyktan meant our kelku was in the center of the village. It was also larger than the average, but that is fine as we will have three kids in under a year. It was decorated with beautiful tapestries, woven garments, and pillows. It had taken some convincing with Neytiri, but she ended up loving the pillows and the many uses they have, especially the one made to wrap around her front, helping hold the babies and letting her rest her arms.

Looking down, I hear Neteyam grizzling, with it being time for a feed and a nap. 

“I know Teyam, Mama’s going,” I soothe, preparing his bottle, another human invention I had to convince Neytiri of. 

Warming his milk, I check it on my wrist before pouring it into his bottle. I walk over to the pillows, situating myself and Neteyam as his whines increase in volume, “Shh, lovey, I got it right here,” I coo, placing the tip in his mouth. 

Neteyam eagerly latches on, suckling the milk into his mouth and swallowing greedily. He rests his arms on his stomach as his eyes grow heavy. I rest Neteyam on a pillow, angling him towards me, as I use my now free hand to rub over his head. He continues to suck at his bottle like it’s his last meal until it’s finished. Sitting him up, I hold him under his chin before patting his back gently, forcing the trapped wind out. After the wind came up, I brought him back to my chest, cradling him close to me as he readied himself for a nap. Smoothing his hair and running a finger over his face, Neteyam’s eyes droop further as sleep calls him. I chuckle softly as I watch him drift to sleep. With nothing else to do, I sit there watching his beautiful face as he rests peacefully, his chest rising and falling with every breath. I can’t help but reflect on everything that brought me here, and despite the losses, I wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. Knowing that I will be here for a while, I grab my last weaving project, another sling, as we’ll need it with the new little one, as they’ll be here any day.

Jake named Neteyam, wanting to honor Neytiri’s side of the family, and with Neteyam being a mini Neytiri, it worked perfectly. Neytiri named Kiri, naming her after her biological mother. I am unsure of who will name the newest one, but thoughts have circled in my head. One particular name stays around, refusing to leave.

“Darling, why must you look at me like that?” I hear Jake as he enters our kelku.

I turn to see him wearing the Olo’eyktan ornaments, with Kiri strapped to his chest, staring at her father without blinking.

“Please, baby girl, just blink,” Jake’s voice turns to pleading.

I laugh quietly at Jake losing a fight with his infant daughter, grabbing his attention.

“Hey, Sweetheart, how has your day been?” Jake asks, lowering his voice when he notices Neteyam sleeping.

I smile at him, bemused, as Kiri has yet to blink, “It’s been good. Got some time with Neteyam, saw Tsu’tey, now what is this about Kiri and not blinking?” I ask, giggling softly.

A groan escaped Jake, “I swear to you, she hasn’t blinked in over five minutes. She just stares at me blankly.” Truth be told, I still haven’t seen Kiri blink yet.

I have to restrain myself from laughing, “Gosh, I love that girl,”

“You say that like she hasn’t been purposely tormenting me,” Jake exaggerated.

“While that may be true, you did miss something important today.” I tease him.

Curiously, Jake’s face furrows as he smiles hesitantly, “And what did I miss?”

“Well, you see, I went to go and force Neytiri to chill out because I found her bow fishing with Neteyam again. After convincing her to hand over to Neteyam, she gave me a quick parting kiss.” I pause for dramatic effect, “Now Neteyam didn’t like that the attention was off of him, and Neytiri pointed out that he didn’t like that his Sa’nu and Mama were getting more attention than him. Apparently, Neteyam needed to get his point across, and he did that by saying ‘Mama,’” I grin triumphantly. 

“Neteyam, Neteyam said his first word? He said, Mama!” Jake’s ears and tail flickered in glee as he fought to keep his voice down. “I can’t believe it!” Jake paused briefly, his tail drooping, “I can’t believe I missed it!” Realizing he missed another milestone. 

I chuckle at his actions; poor Jake kept missing things, “Well, if you want to switch, maybe Neteyam will speak for you when he wakes, and our little miss will finally blink.” I reach my free arm out.

Grumbling, he unwraps Kiri from her sling, and we switch babies; Neteyam snuffles a little before settling in Jake’s arms, while Kiri finally blinks, realizing that she’s with her Mama a gummy smile stretched over her face, two little white spots on top of her gums.

I laugh, realizing that Jake missed something else, “Jake, my love,” I look at him, grinning.

He looks at me, concerned, “What is it this time?” 

“Our daughter has two teeth coming in,” I grin triumphantly.

“What? No way!” He rushes over the best he can with a sleeping Neteyam.

I turn Kiri around, moving her top lip to show the two white spots, “Looks like her fangs are coming in first. Is that normal for na’vi?” I ask while feeling the spots, seeing how far along they are.

“I don’t even know what human baby teeth come in first, let alone na’vi,” He admitted sheepishly.

“I’ll have to ask Neytiri or Mo’at, depending on how long Neytiri decides to stay out. Kiri’s teeth are coming along.” I mention.

Jake feels Kiri’s gums, much to her ire, “I’d probably do it sooner than later. Those teeth aren’t waiting for anyone,” He explains, removing his finger as Kiri goes to chomp down.

I laugh as Jake looks at our daughter fearfully, “Alright, scaredy cat,” I sit up and move towards the door.

I struggle to put on the sling for Kiri, but after successfully trying it, I wave back at Jake before heading back out.

The healing tent, thankfully, isn’t far from our marui, a brisk walk. The longest part of it was when I stopped digging up a plant for Kiri to hold. The plant seemed to react to her presence, but that was a topic for another day.

The healing tent isn't really a tent. It’s underground, beneath the roots of a tree, giving a warm and cozy vibe when you walk in, bringing warmth and peace as the scents of herbs and tinctures brush my nose. Mo’at stands in the middle of the undergrowth, grinding petals into her mortar. 

“Oel ngati kameie, Mo’at,” I call out respectfully. 

Her head swivels to look at me. A soft smile brushes her face as she spots Kiri and I, “Oel ngati kameie. I trust that you two are alright?” She asks, eyeing us for injuries.

“We are fine. Just came to show you Kiri’s new teeth,” I return her smile.

Mo’at’s ears and tail flickered in joy as her face lit up, “Bring her here! I must see,” She quickly abandons her work.

Laughing, I untangle the sling, happily handing over Kiri to her grandmother. Mo’at eagerly took her granddaughter, placing a finger inside Kiri’s mouth, feeling at the emerging teeth. 

“Two little fangs; it seems they’re coming in just fine!” She spoke excitedly, her voice soft to not bother Kiri.

“Jake and I  were wondering, is it normal for na’vi babies' fangs to come in first?” I ask, seeing that Mo’at is happy with the progress.

Removing her finger from Kiri’s mouth, she explains, “Hmm, yes, one or two top fangs come in at a time, then the bottom ones. After that, the front teeth fill in.”

I nod my head, happy with her words, “That’s a little different than what I am used to, but I am glad that everything is normal.”

“Is that not how humans work?” She asks curiously.

“Actually-”

“Sa’nok! Do you know where Jake and (Y/N) are?” I hear Neytiri call.

“I am here, Love!” I called back to her.

“What is the matter ‘Ite?” Mo’at answers as Neytiri comes into sight, Tsu’tey at her side.

“I am in labor; our newest one is early,” She explains calmly as she shuffles her way into the healing tent.

Looking at Tsu’tey, I grab Kiri from Mo’at and hand her to him, “Ready?” I ask him.

“I have been waiting. We knew the day would be soon.” Tsu’tey accepts Kiri from me.

“Jake is at our kelku with Neteyam. If you could, please send him our way, that would be amazing,” I comment as I go through the mental birthing plan. 

“Do not worry. I will send Jake your way and care for the little ones,” He calmly states, noticing my incoming panic. 

“Thank you, Tsu’tey,” I give one last kiss to Kiri’s cheek before turning and joining Neytiri and Mo’at further into the tree roots. 

The deeper underground is only illuminated by the surrounding plants. As I walked down, it became warmer as steam poured upward, and the healing pools were heated, creating the perfect place for birthing. The area brings a natural peace, helping calm me.

Neytiri was already resting in a pool, her garments folded neatly off to the side, as she relaxed with her mother next to her. I sit next to the pool, grabbing Neytiri’s hand and placing it on my face.

“Are you calm now, ‘Ite?” Mo’at asks me.

Sighing, I reply, “Much better now. I’m sorry for panicking,” I mutter to Neytiri.

She laughs softly at me, “Jake was much worse when Neteyam was born. I thought he was going to pass out on me,” Her large thumb caresses my face.

“In our defense, human births are an ordeal. Sometimes it takes several days, and surgery is still needed to remove the baby,” I mumble, eased as I remember na’vi births are relatively simple.

“Several days? That seems excessive,” Mo’at questioned.

“Human births are not easy. It's excruciating. I know my mother was in labor with me for 29 hours before the doctor agreed to remove me surgically.” I explain, grimacing.

“Surgically?” Mo’at mutter aghast.

“Yes, my mother didn’t dilate enough for me to pass through, so instead, they cut open through several layers of flesh and into the womb to remove me.”  I wince at the idea, “The only other option would be to attempt to force me out, which would have either gotten me stuck, most likely killing both of us or my mother would have torn, causing her to bleed out.”

The two women looked at me fearfully, unable to process what I explained to them.

“And this is common for humans?” Mo’at asked softly, slightly pale.

“Yeah, around 1 million births a year are c-sections,” I struggled to remember the average number.

“Would you be at risk for those?” Neytiri asked concernedly.

I look at her earnestly, “Oh, definitely, that’s why Jake and I are so careful because a na’vi baby would be so large that I would be on bed rest from about the 4th month and would need a c-section. Although we do have several human doctors who can perform the surgery, it’s really just the pregnancy that has us concerned.” 

Neytiri goes to speak, but a wince cuts her off. I look down and notice her slit is swollen, symbolizing that her cervix is moving forward slowly. I place my hand into the water, gently rubbing at the side of her slit, trying to help ease the tension building there.

“After hearing that, this seems easy,” She groans.

“Hey, don’t play down your pain. Your body is literally rearranging itself for birth; you get to complain, groan, and moan, and I will personally help you if you threaten Jake, and Jake will as well.” I scold her gently but firmly.

“Threaten? Is that normal for human births? Neytiri’s giggles were infectious.

“Yeah, just the standard things though, ‘You’re never touching me again!’, ‘I’m cutting off your balls and feeding them to the dog!’ you know the normal things.” I comment, remembering some of the things I had heard before.

Mo’at and Neytiri burst into laughter, their giggles echoing to the top of the healing pod.

Jake walked into the birthing room smiling, “It seems I’m missing out.”

“Oh, you know, just threatening humankind by castrating men,” I smile sweetly.

Jake winces, pushing his legs together at the thought, “Babe, I don’t have those anymore, and that’s still terrifying.”

“I still find it odd that human sex are outside the body, males in particular. It literally sways as they move,” Neytiri muses, furrowing her brow.

My head tilts back in laughter, amused by her disgust, “Love, I was terrified when Jake showed me his slit and a giant dick covered in spikes came out! Human genitals are tame compared.”

I quickly shut my mouth, remembering that Mo’at was in the room. I sent her an apologetic look, apologizing for my language. She merely chuckles, shaking her head.

“Now that your mates are here, I will go upstairs. I’ll come back after you are finished together.” With that, she left up the stairs.

Jake takes her spot, kneeling on the other side of the pool, his hand rubbing at Neytiri’s neck, easing her muscles, “How are you feeling?”

“Sore and uncomfortable, this one is ready to leave,” She mutters, and I can feel her inner muscles contracting and moving around.

“I can feel it. Baby wants out now,” I chuckle lightly, realizing something, “All of our kids are eager today: Neteyam’s first word, Kiri’s first teeth, and now baby three is rushing their own birth.”

Neytiri’s face lit up, “Kiri has a fang now?” She asked excitedly.

“Two little teeth are pushing through, two little white spots on her gums,” Jake explains, cupping warm water and trailing it over her shoulders.

“Ahhh, I can not wait to see them,” Her face is aglow.

“And despite Jake having her all day, he still managed to miss them. I spotted her teeth,” I giggle at Jake’s luck.

“Ma Jake, what is with our children and avoiding you,” Neytiri’s laugh brought joy to us as we successfully distracted her.

“I held her all day! There is no way I could have missed that!” Jake whines.

“You also held a staring contest with her and lost,” I pointed out.

“She wouldn’t blink! Five minutes!” He exclaimed.

Neytiri’s head fell back as her laughter rang through the underground. 

“Our ‘Ite will walk all over you when she is older,” Her giggles trail off.

“I can’t fight an eight-month-old baby,” Jake’s pout was evident.

Neytiri and I look at each other, smiling, knowing that our husband was thoroughly whipped for his daughter. 

“Oh!” Neytiri exclaimed.

I press around the sides of her slit, feeling the baby's head was close, “I’m going to start prepping you, Love,” I explain to her.

I wait for her nod of consent before gently rubbing at her slit. The opening is swollen from the moving blood. I press down with easy pressure, moving my fingers from top to bottom, urging her slit to open. A sharp hiss leaves Neytiri’s mouth as she grabs Jake’s hand.

“Easy, it’s okay baby, we got you,” I can hear Jake hold back a wince of his own from her firm grip on his hand.

“Is this where humans would start to threaten their male mate?” Neytiri asked through clenched teeth.

“Yes, Love, this is typically that time,” I send a knowing grin to Jake, excited to hear the explicit that will fall from her mouth. 

Jake gives me a dark look but otherwise doesn’t say anything.

“Jake! You bastard!” She starts off strong, “If I didn’t like it so much, I would cut off your dick and feed it to the Ikran’s!���

With that, I had to duck my head, hiding the smile that couldn’t stop. I focus back on my task, feeling her muscles giving in to my touch. I push a little harder, needing to break the seal that her pregnancy caused.

“Fuck you, Jake! I’m trying your dick to an Ikran and having it take flight!” Her scream was shrill as I broke the seal.

“You’re doing such a good job, Love. The seal’s broken. The worst of it is over.” I coo to her.

“By Eywa, that seal is horrible,” Neytiri mutters breathlessly, the sharp pain of the seal breaking causing her to lose her breath.

Now that her slit is open, I can see the fluid from her womb flow out, tainting the pool in a soft blue glow. I dip my fingers inside, feeling for the baby’s head. Their crown was near but not properly aligned yet. 

“Almost there, Love. Just a couple more minutes, and we can get them out,” I explain softly, my fingers never leaving the baby’s head.

Neytiri chuckles through her groans, “This one is eager, a week early, and not even an hour in labor.”

“Neteyam was average, right? Three hours?” He questions.

I look up at Neytiri’s face, wondering what the answer is, “Yes, three to four hours is average. And I now know why. I can feel this one moving my organs at their whim.” She hisses as the baby moves again.

Their fuzzy head is beneath my fingertips as their crown aligns some more. I shot Jake a pointed look, so I could continue to ease the rest of her slit open. 

“So what are the names we had listed?” He asked lamely.

“Well, for a girl, we all agreed on Mi’niri or Tuktirey,” Neytiri reminded him.

“If she’s named Tuktirey, the kids may have a hard time with her name until they are older,” I warned as I used the warm water to gently ease away the remains of the seal.

“Mhm,” She groaned as more the seal was parted, “I don’t think any of us agreed on a boy name,” Wincing as more of her slit parted.

Noticing that the baby was trying to push itself out early, I placed a bit of pressure on their head, needing to open Neytiri’s slit fully; otherwise, it could hurt both Neytiri and the baby.

“Jake, this is 100% your child,” I mutter, trying to hurry but not wanting to hurt Neytiri anymore.

Sputtering, Jake managed out, “What did I do?”

“Your child likes to finish early,” I muttered blankly.

“I do not finish early!” Jake protested.

“Then why do I always make our, Paskalin cum?” Neytiri joins in.

Using Jake’s bruised ego as a distraction, I finish peeling apart the bottom of Neytiri’s slit, allowing our baby to come out.

“Ready, Tiri? Our baby is ready to come out now,” I explain to her softly, my joy barely contained.

I remove my hand from her slit; instead, I place both my hands outside and around, ready to catch our baby. Neytiri grips onto Jake’s hand, takes a deep breath, and pushes. As she strains, her slit parts wide, showing us the baby’s head.

“You’re doing so good; they’re almost here,” Jake cooed into her ear.

I look and see Neytiri struggling. I pat her hip and say, “Breathe, my love, you need to breathe.” I rub at her hip as she follows my words, “There you go, good job, just breathe,” I praise her.

I watch as her breathing regulates itself and that she’s ready to try again, “Ready, baby? They’re almost here; I can see their head. Just give me another push.” I explain softly, readying myself again.

One more breath, and she started to push, grunting as our baby’s head slowly went past her slit, letting us see their head to the top of their eyes.

“Almost there, Love!” I exclaimed as their head finally popped through, “That their head, good job, Lovie, one more push for the shoulders, and then our baby is here.” 

With that, Neytiri pushed as hard as she could, forcing the shoulders out, and the rest of our baby slid out. I grabbed the baby, bringing its face above the water as I cleaned the membrane off its face. 

Their little face scrunched up as they took their first breath before crying out their displeasure. I coo at them as I finish cleaning them off, looking for any abnormalities or injuries. As I washed them, their slit that hides their internal genitals didn’t have the strength to close and won't for many months. 

I slowly had them over to Neytiri, “Say hello to our son,” I whispered over his cries.

The three of us crowd together, our arms all coiled around each other, each touching one another and our new son. Tears were in all of our eyes as Neytiri brought our son to her teat, and his cries died off as he quickly latched on and began to drink. 

“He’s got a good appetite,” Jake softly chuckled, not wanting to startle the baby.

“He just wants his Sa’nu,” I chuckle back.

Slowly, I reach around and grab Neytiri’s kuru, bringing it forward as Jake goes for our son’s, the bare neural whip, tiny in his large hands. We both look at Neytiri, waiting for her to say something, but her eyes could leave our son's face. He was content where he was, laying snuggly against his Sa’nu, eating his first meal. 

Jake clears his throat, trying to grab her attention. Neytiri is slow to look away but eventually meets his eyes. Recognition faces through her face as she sees the kurus in our grasp.

“Please,” She whispers. 

And we obey slowly; we bring them together, the glowing strands wrapping around each other as Tsaheylu was formed. Slowly, Neytiri’s eyes closed as she relaxed into the bond, feeling everything that our son felt, the first bond being made.

Jake and I looked at each other, knowing that everything we had gone through was worth it for these moments. We slowly brought our faces together, and our lips met softly just over our baby’s head. It was sweet and passionate, full of love.

“I love you two, but do that somewhere else,” Neytiri gripped at us, her eyes remaining closed.

We part quickly, like teens caught by their parents, before we laughed quietly. I go back to finishing my job, cleaning Neytiri, and clamping the umbilical cord, severing one of the internal bonds. 

We all sat there quietly, Jake and I watching our son eat his fill, snuffling as he suckled. By the time he was finished, his little tummy was rounded full from his meal. I reached over and placed my hand on his stomach.

“Look at his tummy, Jake,” I coo, loving the feel of a newborn.

“Our little one is a good eater,” He responds, smiling, his hand rubbing at our son's head. 

“He enjoys your attentions,” Neytiri mumbles, a soft smile on her face. 

“He knows who his parents are,” Jake comments, his voice deep rumbling in a purr. 

A little squeaky sound follows, a little chirping noise that our son is making, the purr of an infant. The continued squeaking purr filled the underground, mixing with Jake’s comforting rumbles. Slowly and slightly reluctantly, Neytiri disconnects from our baby, handing him over to Jake. He grabs him and cradles our son to his chest, their purrs syncing. I grabbed Neytiri’s hand, linking our fingers together. 

We stayed down there for what seemed like hours, simply holding the baby and comforting each other. It was once again my turn with our son. He lay curled with his head resting above my heart. I smoothed a hand down his fuzzy head and down his back before doing it again, memorizing the sanhì that covers his body. This time, he was asleep, so it was quiet in the underground once again.

“Ma Yawne,” Neytiri called, “Jake and I have been discussing, and we agree it’s your turn to choose the name,” Her smile was soft as tears stung my eyes.  

“We’ve both named a child. This time, it's yours,” Jake added as he wrapped an arm around me.

“I-I never-I haven’t.” I stuttered out as tears poured out of my eyes, trailing down and dropping on my son's head.

Neytiri crawled out of the pool, sitting herself next to me. She grabbed my face and placed a gentle kiss on my lips, “You are one of us, Yawntutsyìp; you are our Syulang, never doubt that.” Her voice was full of passion as I leaned into her touch.

I have never doubted they loved me, but being the only human in this relationship comes with hardships and worries—fears of never being enough for them. But this was real and couldn’t be taken back.

Choking back my tears, I look at my son's face again, wondering which name to go with, even though I already knew the answer.

“Lo’ak,” I whispered, “His name is Lo’ak,”

“Like Lo’akur Toruk Makto Amulet, it’s perfect, Yawne,” Her voice wobbled as she held me closer.

I lean up and lay my lips on the underside of her jaw as Jake wraps himself around my other side. 

“I think it’s a perfect name,” But then he whispers quietly enough that Neytiri can’t hear, “It is Lo’ak and not LOAC, right?” 

I refused to respond to that with words. Instead, I leaned to the side and bit his ear.

“Hey! Let go. I was just asking,” Jake whined quietly, trying not to wake Lo’ak.

I continue with my hold on Jake’s ear, laughing as he attempts to get away from my teeth. 

On my other side, I can feel rumbling, Neytiri’s laughter, “Children, I’m mated to two children,” A grin overtook her face.

I quickly let go of Jake’s ear and turned to her, “You love us this way,” I smiled cheekily. 

She said nothing as she kissed my lips before doing the same to a pouting Jake.

And I know that this moment couldn’t be better.

“Ma Syulang, I will be patrolling today. Jake should be back soon, but if I see Tsu’tey, I will send him to help you,” Neytiri rambles as she places her ionar.

I picked up Neteyam before he climbed onto our cooking spot. 

I turned and put on my best smile, “Don’t worry, Love, I’ll be fine until Jake gets back,” With that, Lo’ak started crying; growing in four fangs at once was painful.

Based on Neytiri’s face, I don’t think I did a good job in convincing her I was indeed fine, “I think I will wait for Jake to return before leaving,” She explains as she stops Kiri from putting a random leaf in her mouth, causing her to cry. 

I quickly placed Neteyam into the front of the sling, as Lo’ak was tied to my back, before moving over to Kiri, grabbing her wooden Ikran toy. Showing Kiri the toy, she quieted down, and I went to take her from Neytiri as Neteyam wiggled, becoming frustrated from the lack of mobility. 

“I’ve got them. You go on patrol,” I demand, as Netyeam grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked.

“Neteyam!” I scolded, a burning, sharp pain radiating through my skull. 

My shout scared the babies, causing all three to tear up and cry. Lo’ak’s cries turned into squeals, even more upset on top of the pain. Neteyam pulled again in his frustration, and I quickly put him down into the gated play area, “Neteyam, that is not okay. I know you’re upset, but you hurt Mama. You’re going to sit in here until you can use gentle hands. Mama loves you, but you can not hurt people,” I scolded softly but firmly. 

I sat down near the gate but left it out of reach; I pulled Lo’ak to my front, setting him next to Kiri as I shooshed them, trying to calm the two of them.

Neytiri walks urgently to my side, “Here, let me take one,” As she goes to grab one of the kids.

“No, Neytiri, I’m the one that scared them. I need to be the one to calm them and reassure them. I will do the same once Neteyam is out of timeout.” I sighed as Kiri’s cries trailed off into sniffles.

“I’m sorry, babies, Mama shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry for scaring you. Mama loves you,” I coo to them, apologizing for my actions. 

I continued to coo and rock them as Neteyam’s time came up. I walked over and stepped over the gate, sitting next to Neteyam. I pulled him into my arms, and he wrapped his chubby baby arms around my neck.

I kiss his head gently, “Neteyam, I love you so much, but you can not hurt people. Can you tell Mama you’re sorry?” I ask him gently.

“Sorry, Mama,” He sniffles, his little fingers clawing in distress.

“You’re forgiven, baby. Mama loves you so much,” I curled Neteyam closer to me as I leaned back against some pillows against the gate. 

“Love Mama,” He grizzles, rubbing his face in my neck.

“Mama loves you too, Teyam,” I whisper, noticing that the three of them are starting to settle down. 

Seeing that Neytiri was still standing there watching us, I used my face to gesture to the blanket nearby. Understanding what I wanted, she grabbed the soft blanket, covering the four of us in the soft fur. 

“Mama loves all of you so much,” I whisper again, kissing each of their heads.

Noticing that the situation was handled, Neytiri blew me a kiss before strapping her quiver on, her bow in hand, “Do you need anything, Yawne?” She asked one last time.

“Thank you, Love, but I’m good,” I whisper as I hear Kiri’s little snores. 

Giving us one last soft look, she left the kelku, leaving me with a snoring baby, a dozing baby, and a grizzly baby. I mentally curse at myself, realizing I should have asked for one of the baby sleeping mats to be placed next to me instead of where I spot it on the other side of the gated area. 

Accepting my fate as a baby bed for the time being, I slouch a bit more, getting myself comfortable. 

“Mama?” Neteyam asked drowsily.

“Yes, baby?” I hum, petting his hair.

“Mama?” He asks again, slower than the last time.

“Mama loves you, Netyeam,” I whisper again.

Slowly, his breathing eases out as he falls into a deep sleep.

Now that two of the three kids were sleeping, I turned to the third baby. Lo’ak was lying there resting, chewing on the strap to the sling, grizzling sleepily as he fights sleep and the pain of the emerging teeth. I kiss his forehead, bringing his attention to me.

“Mama loves you, Lo’ak, just as Mama loves Neteyam, and how Mama loves Kiri. I wish I could take the pain from you and help you rest, just as I wished I could do it for your siblings.” I ramble on, holding eye contact with Lo’ak, “Your Sempu is getting something to help with your teeth from your grandma, but he’s taking a long time, isn’t he? I love your Sempu, too, but he can be such a skxawng sometimes,” I smiled at Lo’ak, and in return, he gave me a watery smile before returning to gnawing on the straps of the sling.

He turned his head left to right, switching sides to alleviate the pressure. Using my not-so-free hand, I place my hand on his head, rubbing his cheek with my thumb, trying to give him the comfort he needs as he grizzles. Feeling something on his face, Lo’ak turns, sucking my finger into his mouth and gnawing on my thumb. He grinds his teeth and gums into my thumb, and I can feel my thumbnail crunching under the strength. I maneuver my thumb out of his mouth, trying not to curse at the pain. Looking at the offended limb, I see cracks in my nail from where he bit.

“You got a strong jaw there, baby. Gotta make sure nothing breakable goes in your mouth,” I laugh at Lo’ak’s disgruntled look, “Now, don’t give me that look. I like my thumb in one piece,” I say, wiggling my thumb, trying to ease the pain. 

Lo’ak’s eyes filled with tears as his new teething toy disappeared. I quickly leave small kisses all over Lo’ak’s face, distracting him from the loss of my thumb. Soft little baby giggles fill the kelku as the onslaught of kisses amuses him.

“Now that’s one of my favorite sounds. My other favorite is when you and Neytiri scream my name,” Jake’s face was stretched in a smirk.

Without looking away from Lo’ak, I calmly mentioned, “If you like us yelling your name, I’ll make sure to tell Neytiri it was you who lost the feathers she gathered for her arrows.” I quickly blow a raspberry on Lo’ak’s face, bringing forth more of his giggles.

“Easy baby, it was just a joke; please don’t sign my death warrant,” I hear him plead as he kneels next to the gated area.

“See, Lo’ak, I told you he’s such a Skxawng,” I explain to Lo’ak, his eyes attentive to me.

“Is this what you do while I’m gone? Teach them propaganda against me?” Jake teases, baffled.

“Yes, I’m staging a coup. Neytiri is my bodyguard, Neteyam is my recruiter, Kiri is my lookout, and Lo’ak is my second. Fear me, Jake Sully, your time is limited.” I drawl.

“Ha! You forgot Mo’at! She won't betray the Olo’eyktan!” Jake exclaimed quietly. 

“She will if her daughter is on my side, idiot,” I snark back at him, a smile threatening to cover my face. 

“Hmm, that is true, but I also have the numbing paste for Lo’ak,” He teases, hanging the bag over my head.

Interested in his father's actions, Lo’ak tries to reach for the bag above us.

“You would stoop so low as to threaten your own son's comfort?” I gasped dramatically. If my hands weren't full, I would place a hand over my heart.

“Anything to keep my lovely mates by my side. Now kiss me,” Jake demands, smiling at me, leaning down.

“You’re such a tease. We should role-play this some night,” I comment, leaning up to meet him. 

“I love that idea. You think Neytiri would be on board?” Jake asks concernedly, stepping over the gate, taking the two sleeping babies from me and cuddling them to his chest.

“Well, first, we would have to explain what role-playing is, but I have heard her say she wished you would command her in bed more often. As long as she knows that it won't change in our day-to-day life, I think she’ll love it,” I reply, explaining what I had heard.

“I hope she likes it,” He smiles, his tale swishing happily behind him.

I sat there thinking for a moment as I rubbed the paste into Lo’ak’s gums, careful not to let his jaws clamp on my finger again, “Gosh, I don’t think we’ve been intimate since before Lo’ak was born. It has been what, ten months now?” I ask Jake, really wondering if it had been that long. 

“324 days, to be exact,” He replied in a snap.

“Babe, have you wanted it that long?” I asked him concernedly.

Jake slowly shakes his head, “It’s alright, I have a working hand. We were all so tired, three babies right back to back. I didn’t want either of you two to feel stressed or pressured, so I kept my mouth shut,” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

Tears sprung to my eyes hearing this, wishing that Jake understood how much this truly meant. I stand to my feet, shifting Lo’ak so he is lying against my chest as he drifts to sleep now that the pain is gone. I cradle Jake's face in my hand as I kiss him passionately, pouring my love for him into the kiss. 

Parting slowly, I rest my forehead against his, “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Jake smiles softly, “The first time we met, I was in a wheelchair and got pushed down a hall. The force of the push caused me to hit you, and you fell into my lap. You could have yelled at me, blamed me, and so many others had.” Jake’s voice breaks as he licks his lips, “But instead, you took one look at the situation, and you apologized to me, even though you were the victim too before you hunted down the bastard and broke their nose, before chewing them out in front of everyone around. I knew right then and there that you were the one for me.” Jake rubbed his nose on mine as he couldn’t hold me with the two babies in his arms.

I curl into Jake’s arms the best I can, tears trailing down my face from the mixed emotions swirling inside me. 

“That long? And you didn’t say anything?” I whispered, my voice cracked. 

“You were so pretty and firey, way out of my league. I was just a dumb jarhead stuck in a wheelchair. I was just happy to be in your presence.” Jake wrapped his tail around, laying it on my lap. 

“You were always so much more than that. You were my first friend there, so kind and funny. I always had to stop myself from laughing when you snarked at Grace. You were always so strong and never took any shit. I knew I was falling in love with you, but the day you chose the na’vi over the humans, the day you betrayed your own species for the greater good, I knew I wasn’t going to let you slip away.” I explained to him, kissing him again softly. 

“Who would have thought we were both such simps,” Jake smiled into our kiss.

I giggled a bit, “Neytiri did. If it weren't for her, I doubt any of this would have happened,” I gestured to our kids. 

“That is tru-AHHHHHHHH!!!” Jake screamed, waking the babies and filling the air with their screams.

Panicking, I back away, trying to see what’s wrong.

“Don’t do that!” Jake yelled again.

“Don’t do what?” I scream in return.

Both the babies in Jake’s arms were squealing, terrified of the noise, as they waved their fists in the air. But Lo’ak was quiet. Looking down, I see the culprit of Jake’s pain. Right in Lo’ak’s little mouth lay Jake’s tail, clenched between those strong jaws and little teeth.

“Lo’ak’s biting your tail!” I screamed, trying to pull Jake’s tail out of Lo’ak’s mouth.

“I see that! Now stop pulling!” Jake's teeth were bared in a natural defense to the pain.

“Well then, how would you like to handle this?” I yelled back, barely hearing anything over the screaming babies.

“I don't know! Just do something!” He yells, trying to pull his tail out of Lo’ak’s mouth.

“Stop yelling! You’re scaring the babies!” I screamed back, trying to push on Lo’ak’s jaw to get him to let go.

Lo’ak’s squeaky growls add to the mix of screaming and whiling. Lo’ak does not want his new chew toy taken away, and he learned the last time to not let go.

“Fuck! Lo’ak! Let go!” Jake’s voice started to slip into a growl, fighting the challenge that Lo’ak started.

“I love you, but don’t you dare growl at the baby,” I hissed at him while still trying to pry Lo’ak’s jaw open.

“He started it!” He hissed back.

Kiri, either from fear or simply being done with shit, reached out and sunk her teeth into Jake’s shoulder, her growls adding to the mix.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kiri, let go!” Jake yelled out.

“Da fuck? Why Kiri?” I asked no one in particular. 

“Is everything alright in here,” I hear Tsu’tey call.

Jake and I snap our heads over to him, “NO!” We yell in tandem.

“What is going on?” Tsu’tey’s deep voice asked over the chaos.

“Lo’ak bit Jake’s tail, and Kiri bit his shoulder, and we can’t get them to let go!” I rushed to explain while my hand started to cramp.

“Tsu’tey, seriously, help us get them off!” Jake demanded as nicely as he was able to.

“Have you scruffed them? That usually works,” Tsu’tey asked, baffled.

“Why would we scruff a baby?” I asked, bewildered and slightly hostile. 

“Be-because it calms them and will make them let go?” He answered, questioning us and himself.

“You know what, I don’t care, as long as it gets them off!” Jake hissed again.

Slow Tsu’tey walked over as if we were aggressive animals waiting to ponce. Spotting Kiri first, he slowly moved his hand over the back of her neck, gently rubbing before holding onto the skin there. A confused noise left her as she let go. Quickly, Tsu’tey grabbed her and held her properly. 

“You scruff them,” He explained calmly.

Looking down at Lo’ak, I move my hand from his jaw and copy the same movements that Tsu’tey did, and with a bated breath, Lo’ak let go. Jake grabbed his tail in relief as we all started to soothe the distressed babies. All of us are now mindful of the little teeth in their mouths.

“Brother, I thank you for your help in this, but if Neytiri ever finds out about this, I will personally make sure you and Ninat cannot have children,” Jake murmured while rocking Neteyam.

“No need for that, JakeSully. It is a right of passage in parenthood. Neytiri will be thrilled to see those scars!” Tsu’tey laughed, “Eytukan wore the scars Neytiri and Sylwanin gave him with pride. He would decorate the marks on the day of their birth.”

I look at Jake, bewildered that this is normal here, and based on the look that he gave me, he was thinking the same thing. 

“How-how often does this happen?” I asked tentatively.

“About once or twice a child,” Tsu’tey shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I’m going to tap out of this tradition as a human who is highly susceptible to infections, and I know that those teeth can and will do severe damage to me. For my safety, that isn’t gonna happen,” I deadpan.

I hear them both wince at the thought.

“That may be a good idea,” Tsu’tey, the biggest stickler for traditions, admitted. 

“Fuck!”

All eyes turned to the shouted curse.

“Please tell me-”

“Fuck!” Followed by little giggles.

“We’re so dead,” Jake muttered, all the color draining from his face.

“We have to hide this from Neytiri,” I whispered back.

Neteyam looked at Kiri from across the room, “Fuck!” He shouted at his sister, followed by giggles.

Kiri waved her arms excitedly, “Fuck!” She giggled back.

Tsu’tey slowly stood up, gently passing me Kiri like she was an atomic bomb, “You two seem to have a handle on this. I will take my leave now,” With that, he ran away with his tail between his legs, like a coward. 

“Did we ever finish writing our wills?” I ask, as Neteyam’s responding ‘fuck’ travels through the air.

“The na’vi don’t have wills,” Jake answered, accepting his fate.

“Maybe she’ll kill us quickly,” I whispered hopefully.

“Uck!” Lo’ak shouted his first word.

Slowly, we looked at Lo’ak before looking back at each other, dread filling our souls. Neteyam and Kiri were thrilled at their baby brother joining them. Their laughter and shouts of ‘fuck’ echo through the room, all three of them filled with glee. Not understanding that they were going to be raised by a single mother soon.

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

[kyberblade]

Just Need You (Din x Reader)

A/N: Okay. This turned into waaayyyyyy more than I expected but once it started it just kept coming, and I…. I kinda love it? Like for real? These two are a mess and I’m kind of obsessed with them. (Also, thank you, Anon, for being my first Mando request and for sending a request at all! You made me happy dance, you have no idea.)

Anon asked: “Hey babes, can you do a Mando x reader where the reader is a bounty hunter and leaves the ship to complete a mission and is only supposed to be gone a few hours but they’re gone all night and Din starts to panic and the next morning they show up slightly injured sand Din completely loses it and he was so scared then feels guilty? (fluff and ANGST) (sorry this is long!)”

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Space swearing. Arguing? Mentions of injury, brief mention of blood, stitches. Mando’a.

Word count: 4,014 (I’m this person now, okay?)

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex​, @grippingbeskar​, and @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis​ for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy.

Masterlist

Xxx

“It’ll only be a few hours,” you grumbled, shoving another blaster in your belt from the weapons locker.

“Do you know anything about this planet?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a vibroblade to tuck into your boot. “I know it’s hot.” Reaching for a thermal detonator, a gloved hand came out to grab your wrist, stopping you just short, your fingers barely scraping along its surface. With a sigh you turned your head to your left to find the Mandalorian’s helmet inches from your face.

“I’m serious,” he said in a low voice, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly.

“So am I,” you whispered. “Mando, I’m fine. I’ve done this a few times.” He scoffed at your sarcastic remark, making you smirk. When he released your wrist, you grabbed the detonator, fixing it to the back of your belt. “Besides, like I said, this’ll be easy. In and out. This guy’s not particularly dangerous, just a bail jumper. Probably won’t even get a scratch.”

He grunted. “And when you come back limping, what do I get? Hmmm?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leveling a flat glare on him. “That’s just rude.”

“What?” He asked innocently, holding his hands out to the sides. “I’m not saying he would hurt you. I’m saying you’re known to…. Trip. A lot.”

After a loaded moment where you two just stared in silence, the only sound the child ambling down the ladder from the cockpit, you turned to the ramp, grumbling, “I’m going now.”

Pulling the lever to release the ramp, you stood at the top as it lowered, feeling the wall of beskar hovering closer and closer behind you until finally the modulated voice taunted by your ear, “Good luck.”

A wave of hot air rolled up into the Crest, making Grogu scrunch his face and babble as he tried to scale his guardian's armor.

Din bent down and scooped up the child, cradling him in his arms and shaking his head as the little green ward squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in the now open hull. Bringing his visor back up to meet your gaze as you made last minute adjustments to your belt, he tilted his head to the side just slightly before he added, “You’re gonna need it.”

With a roll of your head to face back toward the unforgiving landscape, you began down the ramp, disappearing in the glare of the sun beating down on the barren tundra.

Tugging the lever to close the ship back up, the Mandalorian turned to the child in his arms as he cooed softly. Letting out a sigh, his shoulders rolling forward slightly as he still held on to the lever with one hand, he let his head fall forward toward the kid. “I know. I know, I miss her already too, little guy. But don’t worry. She’s gonna be okay.” Bringing the hand down from the lever to rest comfortingly on the child’s front, Din patted it distractedly. “And she’ll be right back.”

Xxx

A few hours had come and passed while Din worked on a handful of odd repairs around the ship. He was currently under the control panel in the cockpit, laying on his back as he fiddled with the wiring under the console. 

Grogu was playing with his ball in the copilot's chair, chittering happily about something or other. 

Looking down toward the child, Din sighed, pulling Grogu’s attention to him. “Don’t worry. She’s just running a little late. That’s all.”

The kid tilted his head as he hummed questioningly at the Mandalorian. “She’s just a little late,” Din repeated, a bit more forcefully. “That’s all.” Looking back up at the mess of wiring overhead, he stared at it absently, his voice quiet. “Don’t worry.”

Xxx

More time had passed, it was the middle of the night, and Din began to pace. There wasn’t anything left on the ship to fix to occupy his time. Well, there was, but it would take hours, and you’d be back soon, probably needing to take off as soon as possible, so he didn’t want to get tied up in that.

The kid blinked blearily from a nearby crate, watching his protector pace back and forth as he ate from a ration pack. He paused his snacking, offering a warm, “Patu!” when the Mandalorian stopped for a moment. Grogu grinned when the shiny visor turned toward him soundlessly, beginning to babble aimlessly as he reached back into the ration pack to pull out a piece to offer to his friend, extending it as far as his little arms could go.

“Thanks, kid,” Din mumbled, taking the dried whatever it was and lifting his helmet just enough to take a small bite. He hummed in satisfaction once the modulator was back in place, the child grinning like he’d solved a dire problem for a world at war.

And in a way, Din guessed he had. It offered him peace, if only for a moment. His mind found rest, some silence for a beat, long enough to get some perspective, long enough to take a breath, and tamp down the worry niggling away at him under his armor. 

It was an unfamiliar feeling to him, worry. Something he’d not really experienced until the child, and something he didn’t altogether quite understand. He’d been in worrying situations before, but this was different. It was removed from him. It was for something outside of himself, his control, and it drove him crazy. 

You drove him crazy. 

Absolutely insane.

….and he loved it.

With you gone, something was missing. Some part of him, some piece that made up the rest of him was lost, and it was like he couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any semblance of peace until you were…. Home.

He didn’t know when or how the Crest had become home, much less when you had joined that picture, but there it was.

He needed you home.

He needed you back.

He needed you….

Just needed you.

Xxx

The child was asleep in the bunk, sealed away as Din rearranged the weapons locker for probably the seventy fifth time, or something near there, it felt like. The open spots for the weapons you’d taken out yesterday glaringly obvious no matter how he rearranged things.

With another long sigh, he moved to open the ramp, and he watched as a brilliant sunrise peeked through, streaking the reflective surfaces of the Crest in shades of pink and orange.

He’d sighed enough to sail a ship across the seas on Kamino, he thought bitterly. Every huff of air an attempt to release pent up emotions, something longing in his chest, but all it did was fog up the inside of his visor. ….Which made him sigh in frustration, doing it again, and it was a whole cycle.

A figure appeared on the horizon, and his spine straightened, attention on full alert. He hoped it was you, but since it was well past when you’d said, there was no telling at this point.

The outline looked closer much faster than anticipated, and it was then he heard the hum of a speeder engine begin to whir closer. Hand going to rest on his blaster, he drew it slowly, aiming at the rapidly approaching stranger as he pressed a button on the side of his helmet to zoom in with his display.

A fog had rolled in, concealing the features of the person atop the speeder, but something in his chest began to constrict when he thought it looked a lot like you.

As the speeder swooped to a stop in front of the ramp, Din took a cautious step forward, blaster raised and aimed as he switched the safety off. 

The figure astride the vehicle hopped off, stumbling slightly before pushing themselves up using the seat of the bike for leverage, grunting as they went. Taking a few wobbling steps toward the ramp, finally the figure stepped out of the fog enough for Din to see who it was, and his throat was suddenly so dry, he could barely croak out your name.

You huffed out a breathy laugh before grimacing and grabbing your right side with your hand. “I know I’m late, but, kriff, it’s no reason to shoot me, Mando.” Moaning, you slumped with your back against the speeder, head tilted back as you winced. “Actually, go ahead. It might be better than this.” With a hiss through your teeth, you slid to the ground, landing with a plop onto the dusty earth, barely registering the rapid holstering of a blaster, the heavy footfalls of beskar quickly making their way down to you, or his hurried questions over your tight lipped groans as you were lifted from the ground.

“What’s wrong? What happened? No, kid. Get back. Go to your- kid, no.”

Opening your eyes as much as you could muster, you peeked at the kid standing at the top of the ramp, his expression drawn in concern. “I’m fine, tiny. Do what he says.” The last part of the word came out on a strangled hiss as a wave of pain jolted through you, the Mandalorian adjusting his hold under your knees and behind your back with a soft apology. 

“I must be dying. Did Mando just apologize to me?” Reaching out, you ran your hand exaggeratedly over his helmet, patting it down like it held something you’d lost. “Is this real? Am I dreaming? I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”

“Be quiet, mesh’la,” he rumbled, setting you on the floor of the Crest before pressing a button on his vambrace to close the ramp. 

“No! No wait!” You said as strongly as you could. Reaching out you smashed the buttons on his vambrace until you found the right one, ignoring his protests, halting the ramp's upward movement. “My bag. On the speeder. The quarry…. What’s left of him….” You relaxed back onto the floor, closing your eyes.

Din shook your shoulders, making you sit up abruptly, wincing before you turned to him. “What does mesh’la mean?”

Din hesitated only a moment. “The quarry?”

You pointed at the speeder, your eyes shutting tight in pain. “He grabbed the thermal detonator. Idiot. All that I could find left of him is in that bag. I’m never using those again. The clean up isn’t worth the credits.” Turning back up to his visor with knit eyebrows, you peeked up at him. “Can we put him on ice?” You shuddered. “I don’t want to look at that bag ever again.”

Nodding, Din ran over and jumped off the ramp, grabbing your stuff off the speeder, and freezing the bag in carbonite as the ramp sealed shut behind him. You carelessly tossed your weapons to the side, mumbling about feeling heavy, so heavy….

When Din turned back from the chamber, you were slumped back against some crates, jaw hanging open limply. As he took a cautious step toward you, he realized your chest was barely moving with your shallow breaths. 

Yelling your name with no response, Din closed the last few feet left between you in seconds, sliding the last foot or so on his knees, numb to anything besides the pain in his chest at the thought of you leaving him. Not like this. 

Not today. 

No. 

“Kid!” He said determinedly, looking across your body to find Grogu already reaching out, a few inches from you. That’s all that would come out. Tilting his head to the side pleadingly, Din turned his visor back down toward your face, smoothing some hair back away from your eyes. 

Grogu understood. He always did. Putting one clawed hand on your shoulder, he closed his eyes in concentration, his already wrinkled face crinkling further. 

Din watched in amazement as color returned to your face, a dull lifeless mask having settled over it before, your eyes fluttering open as you took a deep breath.

Your eyes darted over to Din before landing on the child, wide in wonder, but you didn’t say anything. 

Reaching out, Din nudged him off of you with a gentle push of his finger. “Thanks, ad’ika.” Grogu blinked up at him in confusion. “I’ll take it from here. You rest.” Turning back to look down at you, he wagged a finger close to your face. “Don’t move.” (“Little one.”)

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you mumbled, smiling softly when he chuckled.

Getting to his feet with a quiet groan, Din got the med kit before settling back beside you. Peeling your blood soaked shirt up just enough to see the sear from the blaster shot along your side, he apologized quietly before he got to work cleaning and stitching the wound.

“You’re lucky. They just grazed you.”

“I know,” you mumbled, looking up at the ceiling of the Crest as he worked on the side of your abdomen, wincing every now and then. “Thank you. For not saying anything. I know, you warned me, I just….”

“You just….” He repeated your words back at you questioningly when you never attempted to finish the statement.

Blinking up at him a few times, you changed the subject. “You never told me what mesh’la means.”

Din just went back to sewing you up carefully, his head tilted to the side at an odd angle to see properly. Silence settled between you, and you’d accepted that’s how it would be - this was normal for him, after all - until he spoke so quietly you almost missed it.

“Beautiful.”

“Wha-”

“It means beautiful.”

Smiling softly, you winced when he pulled the thread taught. “And adi- ad- the kid? What you called him?” Stumbling over the word, you pointed to the little green face in his hammock for reference.

The Mandalorian chuckled, his voice a little louder now, but only slightly. “Little one.”

Looking at the little one, you smiled, nodding. “It fits. Speaking of,” you turned back to face your reflection in his visor. “What the hell did he do to me?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Din paused in his work for a moment, bringing his gaze up to look at you straight on. “He’s…. Special.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” you snorted, turning back to face the child, finding him peeking over the edge of the hammock, only from his nose up showing, and of course, his ears. Smiling, you tilted your head at him affectionately. “You could open a sideshow. Make some nice credits between quarry’s.”

“You sound like Peli,” Din grumbled. 

“Hey, that woman has wisdom, you should listen to her.” You held up a finger while speaking, sitting up straighter, only to collapse in on yourself as Din tugged the stitches tight with a grunt and began working on them again.

Another silence settled in between you, filling the spaces between breaths with something comfortable and familiar.

“Well, Mando,” you finally decided to break it. “Have you eaten?”

“The…. The child fed me.”

You hesitated. “I…. I’m sorry?”

“Yes,” he said instead, tying off the stitches as he cleared his throat, reaching for a gauze pad to cover them. “And it’s Din.”

You blinked at him, your mind failing to keep up with the last few topics, especially still struggling with the image of the tiny baby feeding the giant beskar warrior. Amusing as it was. “I’m so lost.”

The Mandalorian stayed silent as he used some adhesive to keep the pad on your side, smoothing it down gently with a gloved hand. He fumbled in the kit for something else, but you couldn’t see, your pant leg being tugged by impossibly small green hands drawing your attention away.

The child ambled up into your lap and settled, giggling when you yelped at a sharp pain in your side. Looking down you saw the Mandalorian withdrawing a bacta shot and letting your shirt fall back down to cover it before turning your fury up toward his visor. 

“My name,” he explained simply. “It’s Din.”

“That hurt!” Your face crumpled from anger to nothing. “Wait. What?”

“You heard me,” he said tiredly, but amused, as he collected the used items and the kit, taking them back over to the corner they came from. 

“I did,” you nodded, staring at the floor. “And…. Wait. What?” Looking back over at him, you groaned as you pushed yourself up with the help of some crates at your back. 

Grogu’s hand resting on your cheek instantly relieved some of the pain, pulling your focus down to him. “That will never not be amazing,” you breathed with a smile.

Din rushed over, helping you to sit on top of the boxes you’d just used as leverage.

“Sit,” you demanded, finger pointed at him. 

With a sigh, he obliged, plopping on the crate next to you gracelessly.

“Explain.”

“When I was born, my parents had to give me a moniker-”

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

With the heaviest sigh you’d heard yet, he leaned back against the hull of the Crest. He looked so tired.

When he began speaking, it was the softest voice you’d ever heard him use, and somehow that made you pay more attention than anytime he’d yelled at you in the middle of a firefight.

“When you were gone…. I realized something.”

“….Be more cryptic. Please.” You sassed when he didn’t continue after a long moment, only raising your eyebrows at him when he rolled his visor toward you with as much attitude as you had just voiced. The kid squeaked something as his own contribution, pulling your eyes down to him, and you pointed at him, nodding in agreement before looking back at Man- Din. “Yeah!”

Din couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped as he turned his head back to look across the lower level of the Crest at nothing in particular.

“I don’t know what I would do…. If I lost you. If I really lost you.” He looked down at his hands as he fiddled with the ends of his gloves needlessly. “I’ve…. I’ve only ever felt that way about the kid, and- and I honestly don’t know what to do with this.” He looked at you again, and somehow this time you could feel his eyes on you, not just the weight of his visor. “Don’t know how.”

Holding his gaze in silence, you let his words sink in. It’s a lot to process. In reality, it’s not much, but emotionally, you need a minute. Everything you thought you knew about this man has just been turned on its head, and you just…. Need a minute. 

When you didn’t say anything, Din nodded silently, going to rise from the crate when you reached out to stop him, hand resting over his. Opening your mouth, you stared at your reflection in his visor, then turned your face to look at the floor as if it held the words you needed.

From the corner of your eye you saw Din’s shoulders deflate, roll forward in defeat, but you put a stop to that with a squeeze of his hand in yours. Weaseling your fingers into his clenched fist to open it, you threaded them with his, holding tight while you searched for the words, using the grip as an anchor while you took a leap.

“Din,” you tried, smiling at the way it felt rolling off your tongue, enjoying the way he squeezed your hand at the sound, and his breath stuttered through the modulator.

“Din,” you said more confidently, unable to shake the smile as you go on. “There is nothing I can think of that would make me happier in the entire galaxy than anything you just told me.” Pulling your eyes up toward his visor, you looked at him through your lashes, face still down towards the floor. “When I’m here, on this piece of shit ship-”

“Watch it,” Din mumbled good-naturedly.

“-I have never felt safer or more at home anywhere in my life.” Lifting your face up to him in some insane wave of courage, you squeezed his hand again. “And whether that’s as your friend, or…. Whatever,” you tucked your face into your chest for a moment to hide the smile that’s not going anywhere. “I’m just honored to get to be a part of…. This.” You gestured around the ship then between the two of you and a sleeping Grogu in your arms with your joined hands before resting them back on his knee softly. “Din,” you mumbled around another grin, unable to shake the renewed pull of your lips no matter how you tried. “I’m honored to know you.”

After staring at one another for a long moment, Din finally shook his head in amusement, gently tugging you closer by your joined hands. “Well that’s all nice, but…. I was thinking of something a little more…. Personal.”

“Oh, thank the Force,” you said in relief, letting your eyes flutter shut as he rested his forehead against yours. “Ner cyare.” (“My beloved.”)

Din pulled away slightly, tilting his head at you in question. 

You just kept grinning. “Elek, Ni jorhaa'i Mando'a.” (“Yes, I speak Mando'a.”)

Shaking his head at you, he began to chuckle. “Mir'sheb,” he mumbled. “Then why ask me all about what I said?” (“Smartass.”)

“I just wanted to see if you would tell me. You’re always so secretive.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Plus, it also seemed kind of important to you, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Din tilted his head to the side as he stared at you, shaking it in disbelief and amusement. “Well, way to go with that.”

The smile wasn’t going anywhere, and you didn’t mind. “I also know Huttese, Jawaese, and- oh, what else? What would you like to hear, I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

Tilting his beskar back against your soft skin, he watched as your lashes fluttered to look up at him. Despite being so close, and not truly being able to see him through the visor, he felt like you really could. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to hide from that feeling. 

“I just want to hear about your hunt while we get off this hellhole,” he mumbled, standing and lifting the child from your arms. Tucking him into his hammock before sealing him in, he turned back to find you standing at the ladder to the cockpit, looking at it like it’d wronged you. “What’s wrong?”

Looking up into his visor, you pouted. “I don’t think I can get up there with these stitches pulling against me the whole way up.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, touching his forehead to yours one more time briefly simply because he could now, then turning you to face the ladder and mumbling right into your ear as he crowded in behind you. “You just got shot today, and you’re complaining about stitches?”

“I’m not complaining, it’s a genuine concern,” you mumbled, fighting another grin trying to tug up the corners of your lips.

“Well, don’t be concerned,” he lilted, taking a step closer and making you begin up the ladder with nowhere left to go but up. “I’m right behind you, the whole way. I won’t let you fall.” His voice softened as you began climbing the ladder, and true to his word, he stayed behind you, almost caging you in the whole way. “Don’t worry.”

“I can see that,” you mused, climbing up into the cockpit with a soft smile. “I’m not.”

Din brushed past you, settling into the pilot’s seat, beginning the take off sequence. “Now. Tell me about this quarry.”

You sighed, plopping into the copilot seat with a roll of your eyes. “Oh, you would not believe the chaos that started from the moment- the moment-” you held up your finger, pausing for emphasis as you closed your eyes for dramatic effect, “I was off this ship.”

Din spun in his seat to face you as the ship began to lift off, his voice smug. “Try me.”

Xxx

My everything taglist: @lam-ila​, @oliviajdjarin​, @peonyophelia​, @Itsavicf, @jxvipike​, @momc95​ What’s this?

[padfootagain]

Silly Love

Hello!!! Here we go with a request from an anon for my Comeback Event!! Thank you so much for your request anon! It was such a delight to write!

Here is the request: “AAAAH i'm so excited for this event!!!! I wanted to request Ben Barnes with the Idiots In love trope!! like maybe they do interview together or we spot them publicly and they're so blushing and happy together that they forget to stay low in the public eye !! thank you so much Carole for giving us some fan content i love and appreciate your work so much ❤️”

This is so adorable, honestly…

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: so much fluff your teeth will rot

Summary: you and Ben are giving a series of interviews for a project you’ve filmed together. But as the day goes by, it’s harder and harder for the two of you to remain serious and not act like the two fools in love that you are…

Word count: 3447

There was something in the way you spoke that always felt so reassuring to him.

Ben wasn’t certain of what it was exactly. The sound, the tone, the octave, the rhythm… He didn’t know what it was about your voice that simply… soothed him. He merely had to listen to you, close his eyes, and everything else would disappear.

He remembered the first time he heard it. It was through his TV screen. It didn’t feel the same then. It lacked the gentle imperfections your voice carried in real life. Still, he remembered watching the whole show you were playing in simply to listen to your voice.

One of these magic tricks of yours.

He should have been paying attention to what you were saying, to what the journalist was asking too. But as he stared at you, he simply forgot about anything else in the room but you. He stared at your eyelashes as they moved with each of your small blinking movements. He studied the curve of your nose, the line of your jaw, the colour of your lips. He knew how soft they felt against his. He fought against the sudden urge to simply cradle your neck, turn your head towards him, and kiss you until none of you could breathe…

You turned to him, and he fell into your eyes. Impossible to look away. Impossible to breathe at all. It felt like drowning, but in a wonderful way. Like falling forever and never wanting to hit the ground.

He didn’t even notice the way a dreamy smile formed on his lips. He was resting his chin in his palm, his elbow resting on the wooden armrest of his chair, set right next to yours.

He saw you tilting your head slightly, frowning a little…

He recognized those signs. It meant that you were waiting for an answer to something he had not been listening to…

“Ben? What do you think?” you repeated.

He shook himself, straightening up again, and blushing terribly.

“I… I am terribly sorry. I did not listen to the question,” he apologised, letting out an embarrassed laugh.

You soon joined him, chuckling while the interviewer repeated her question. You hid your embarrassment behind your hands…

You knew perfectly well why Ben had not been listening. He wasn’t paying attention.

You could hear his excuse, he gave it to you every time he wasn’t listening to you.

It’s not my fault if you’re too gorgeous to look at for me to focus on anything else.

And sometimes, you wondered if he truly meant that. Of course, you took it as a charming and flirty excuse. But there were moments when he would just stare at you the way he just did… maybe he was merely gawking at you, for real.

“Well, I was very happy to work with Y/N,” he answered, and you realized that, this time, you had been the one who wasn’t paying attention to the journalist sitting before you. “I had been admiring her work for a while so… huh… I was very curious to learn how she built her character’s presence, how she approached her roles. And it… it turns out that she is also an amazing human being so… I am a very happy man, indeed.”

You struggled to refrain a smile at his words. You knew perfectly well that you made him a happy man because of your blossoming relationship, not because of your talents as an actor.

You noticed the smirk that appeared on his lips, and knew that you were not doing a great job at hiding your emotions. A mix of satisfaction and embarrassment and shyness…

He adored it. He was so proud of himself for making you look like this. You were so adorable then…

You had not made your relationship official. Ben and you were both adamant in keeping your private lives private. Besides, you had met while working on this movie, and you didn’t want your relationship in your real lives to become a tool to promote the film. So, you were both determined to keep your relationship secret, for now.

You had to admit though that sitting next to Ben all day long, in a rather dark room, made it very difficult for you to act like the two of you were mere friends.

“What did you take home with you from set at the end of filming?” the interviewer asked, apparently oblivious of your inner battles.

“I took home some… small things that were on set… I don’t think I should tell you in details,” Ben laughed. “But I have one of my suits. Let’s… let’s say that.”

“What about you, Y/N?”

You thought for a second, but couldn’t stop yourself from answering as honestly as you could.

“Wonderful people.”

Ben and you exchanged a tender smile.

You were both resting your arms on the armrests of your chairs, and Ben used your proximity to brush his pinky finger against yours, ever so slightly, so no one in the room would notice.

The gesture was there though, tender and intimate, and you grinned at each other. Ben was blushing fiercely again.

“How nice!” commented the journalist.

“See? Told you. She’s amazing,” Ben nodded, making you roll your eyes.

“You have such an amazing chemistry on screen. I think it’s one of the biggest charms about this film, to be honest. And it must be hard to navigate through a love story between two characters. How did you manage that? How did you establish this connection?”

Ben cleared his throat and you saw him looking up at the ceiling, looking for a lie.

After all, he couldn’t answer with the truth. He couldn’t answer with: well, we both genuinely fell in love with each other off-screen, so it wasn’t hard to pretend to be madly in love on-screen. No, that couldn’t work…

You wanted to help him, find your own answer, but you were quite taken aback by the question as well. You were thinking about all these long evenings spent together in his apartment, drinking tea, or sometimes whiskey, and talking for hours and hours; failing to notice that the night was flying by. All those mornings laughing with him in make-up. Listening to his sweet voice as he sang on his piano during the weekend. The long walks on Sunday afternoons. And this feeling that kept on growing and growing, but you couldn’t possibly imagine that he felt the same…

And then, the comments of your friends about the two of you. The fact that you had become so close so quickly, that you wanted to spend so much time with him, that you didn’t think about dating anymore. The realization that struck you like a punch in the stomach that you were not having a mere crush, but were falling desperately, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with your co-star. The doubts, the long days spent thinking that he could never feel the same.

Until that Sunday afternoon when he sang this bloody song he had written, and you sat next to him while he played on his piano and… you just couldn’t stop yourself.

Your first kiss. It tasted like sunlight, tea and soft music.

You were brought back to the real world when Ben finally spoke.

“We talked a lot about the most intimate scenes, and the most emotional scenes too. Huh… we… we really wanted to be on the same page, and to be sure that we were both comfortable and able to express in the best way what our characters were feeling. And I think that level of understanding was very important. And… you know just… trusting each other. Huh… and then we simply became very good friends so it made everything pretty easy.”

You couldn’t refrain your tender smile as you stared at him while he spoke. You drank every word. You studied his dark hair you loved messing up with your fingers so much, his short beard you adored against your skin, the angle of his jaw, the corner of these lips you wanted to kiss all the damn time…

You shook yourself, trying to pay attention to the interview again.

“Alright a few fun questions now,” the interviewer said, a smile on her lips. “I’ll ask you some questions and you have to answer with the first thing that comes to your minds, at the same time, on the count of three. Sounds good for you?”

“Sure, sounds fun,” you answered, smiling as well.

“Alright. Tea or coffee? One, two, three…”

“Tea.”

“Coffee.”

You rolled your eyes at Ben’s answer, and he did the same because of you.

“That bloody, tasteless hot water,” you complained.

“I love coffee too.”

“But you prefer tea.”

“I do prefer tea.”

“Very cliché for a Brit.”

“True… I’m not going to try to deny that.”

The two of you exchanged a teasing smile, before focusing on the journalist again, waiting for her next question.

“Your favourite thing about each other. One, two, three…”

“His kindness.”

“Her kindness.”

You both gasped at your matching answers.

“You are extremely kind, like… too kind, honestly. Very patient as well,” you nodded, and Ben was grinning at your words.

It was the kind of radiant smiles that were almost blinding.

“You are way too sweet. And just so… so genuinely nice. In the best way,” Ben added, his grin turning into something softer as he stared at you. “You’re always trying to make sure everyone around you is happy and well. You have a very generous soul. I love that about you.”

“Aww…” you couldn’t help it when you reached for his hand and gave it a tender squeeze.

“Now, what is the thing you dislike the most about each other?” the journalist asked once you were looking at her again. “One, two, three…”

“Nothing.”

“He’s so distracting.”

Ben looked at you in shock while you and the interviewer were laughing so much.

“Wow… I was not expecting that one,” Ben admitted. “I was being so nice to you, I said ‘nothing’! Did you hear that?” he added, turning to the interviewer. “I can’t believe it...”

“You really are so distracting though.”

“I’m very focused when I work,” he argued.

“You have the whole shouting-to-get-into-character thing,” you started, counting on your fingers.

“Oh… yeah… that’s right. I see how that can be quite distracting…” he admitted, and you saw him starting to blush again.

“You’re always in people’s face, or touching me, or hugging me…”

“That’s nice though!”

“It’s nice, but still distracting.”

You raised a third finger.

“And you’re very handsome. It doesn’t help.”

His smile turned tender again, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Thank you, that’s nice.”

“Do you want to change your answer?” the journalist asked Ben with humour.

“I think I’ll say that she’s too honest sometimes.”

You all laughed.

“You never think before speaking,” Ben went on, still laughing. “It’s hilarious.”

“I am hilarious.”

“You truly are. But it gets you into so much trouble sometimes. Do you remember when we were at this restaurant and you thought the couple at the table next to ours were father and daughter?”

You doubled with laughter, hiding your face in your hands.

“That was so embarrassing.”

“You’re so loud…”

“I was tipsy!”

“Drunk. You were full-on drunk.”

“No, I wasn’t! I was very tipsy but I was not drunk.”

“Anyway, you said this so loudly and the look they sent us!”

You were both laughing so much, both of you forgetting all about the interview.

“I just wanted to disappear.”

“You really get us into so much trouble sometimes…”

“But you like it. You would be bored otherwise.”

“Just like I bet you love it when I distract you.”

“That’s quite true.”

You and Ben intertwined your fingers together, holding hands, and Ben brushed tenderly the back of your hand with his thumb. You didn’t think about what the gesture could mean for the rest of the world. You were too busy getting lost in his dark eyes.

The journalist interrupted your thoughts though as she spoke again. You separated your two hands, movements made slow by reluctance.

“What’s the last emoji you sent to the other? One, two, three.”

“Laughing face.”

“Kiss emoji.”

You frowned hard at Ben.

“Your last emoji was a heart, not a laughing f…”

But you saw the look in his eyes and stopped talking.

He was lying on purpose… shoot…

“Yes, you’re right, it was a laughing face,” you lied, but you were pretty certain that you were not convincing.

Ben tried to keep a straight face, but it was difficult.

The interview was (thankfully) over though, so the journalist left, and you bid her a good day with a handshake and a warm smile.

Ben asked for a two-minutes break before welcoming the next interviewer, pretexting that he needed to go to the bathroom, and you followed his lead.

Actually, you found refuge in the deserted staircase of the building, and both exploded with laughter in the empty space, your laughs amplified by their echoes.

“We really need to be more careful, my love,” Ben argued, trying to be more serious again.

“You’re right,” you nodded, letting him wrap his arms around you to draw you closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

“I am not fully innocent either…”

“But that emoji… and I said I sent you a kissing face!”

You buried your face in your hands and rested your forehead against his shoulder. Ben merely laughed.

“I don’t think that was enough to start a rumour about us being together, though,” he reassured you. “But I was right. You really need to learn to think before speaking…”

You swatted him playfully on his upper arm, and he doubled with laughter.

“Now, we should go back. We still have many interviews to give. And no more hand-touching, mister!” you scolded him.

“I can’t help it,” he complained. “Besides, before we go back, I really need to do something first. Something I’ve been dying to do ever since we entered this room, because… you are so beautiful like this, love…”

You gave him a flirtatious smile, knowing perfectly where this conversation was heading.

“And what could that be, honey?”

“This.”

He leaned down to kiss you tenderly on the lips, a hand climbing up your body to rest gently against your cheek, cupping your jaw to guide your face towards his again when you tried to break the kiss. You lost your fingers in his hair, messing with the dark locks, but none of you cared.

Kissing him felt too amazing for you to care about anything but his lips.

“Honey? What are you doing? Hurry up, I want to watch the movie!”

You wore your most annoyed tone, but heard Ben chuckling from the corridor anyway. You couldn’t refrain a smile at the sound, even if you were trying to act like you were annoyed. It was too warm, too reassuring for you to feel anything but happy whenever you heard his laughter.

You rearranged the covers of Ben’s bed, waiting patiently for him to finally join you so you could start watching a cute romantic comedy you had found on Netflix. But he seemed to be taking forever…

He finally appeared, wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers, and you couldn’t help it when you let your gaze roam the length of his body. His hair was dishevelled from the shower he had taken after dinner, and you loved it. He was staring at his phone as he walked in the room, but looked up to catch the sight of you lying there, cosy and warm in his bed.

Best sight on Earth, he reckoned…

He slipped in the bed with you, and you greeted him with a grin and a peck on the lips. But you frowned as he focused on his phone again.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, snuggling in his side as he raised his arm for you to settle in his embrace.

“Yeah, just… was checking on some comments on a couple of interviews we did together the other day, you remember?”

“When it was just the two of us?”

Ben nodded, eyes still fixed on his screen.

His hand was drawing mindless patterns across the small of your back. It was comforting, soothing… it reminded you that he truly was there, by your side.

It had been a few weeks now since you had recorded these interviews, but of course you remembered. It had been proper torture to seat next to Ben all day without being able to touch him, to speak your mind, to remind him that you loved him…

“Sure, what about them?” you asked dropping a kiss on his chest, and you smirked at the sight of the smile that formed on his lips under your touch.

“Well… a couple of friends have warned me that some comments are… quite… accurate…”

You frowned hard, leaning closer to look at his phone, and he turned the screen in your direction so you could read the comments too.

Your eyes grew round.

I bet Ben and Y/N are more than friends… have you seen that chemistry?

The way Ben just gawked at Y/N for two full minutes, not listening to anything she or the interviewer said, is a big mood. Also, they’re in love.

Lol, when they held hands at 6:30, I’m dead, thx!

Not the type to start rumours but… are these two together? Like… irl?! Because they seem like a real couple trying their absolute best to hide how infatuated they are with each other… and failing.

Ben and you exchanged a glance.

“Oh…” you breathed.

“I think we… have blown our cover, love,” Ben joked.

You were afraid he would be mad, but he seemed amused by the situation, more than anything else…

“You’re not panicking? Or annoyed? Or angry?” you carefully asked.

He noticed your wary tone, and looked down at you, before dropping a kiss in your hair.

“No, I don’t care, to be honest.”

“I thought we had decided to keep all this a secret.”

“Yes, well… I don’t mind. I love you, that’s all that matters.”

You tightened your hold on him, making him chuckle.

“I love you too,” you whispered against the skin of his neck, closing your eyes as you deeply breathed in the sugary scents of his soap and shampoo.

“Do you mind terribly that everyone is figuring things out about us?” he asked, and this time he was the one wearing a cautious tone.

“Not really, actually. I thought it would stress me out, but I don’t really care.”

You exchanged a loving smile, and he brushed his nose and his cheek against your forehead, making you heave a content sigh.

“By the way… I want to watch these two full minutes where you are… how did they say that? Oh, yes… gawking at me,” you teased him, a cheeky grin on your lips, while he exploded with laughter.

“I’ve watched it,” he confessed, his eyes tightly closed and his head thrown back in embarrassment, trying to hide from you, but you could still see that he was fiercely blushing. “I’ve watched it and I can’t believe I’ve stared at you like that in public…”

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes, it is.”

“You’re so sweet… so cheesy…”

“Oh, shut up!” he grumbled, making you laugh.

“I want to watch it, give me your phone.”

“Absolutely not!” he protested, extending his arm so the device would remain out of reach.

“Ben! Give it to me!”

“No!”

“I can also just use my own phone…”

“No… no…”

He grabbed you by the waist when you reached for your phone on your bedside table, pulling you towards him and making you both fall on the mattress.

You were both laughing so much by now.

“No! Don’t watch it!”

“If you start tickling me, I swear to God, you will soon be a dead man…”

“I’ll find another way to distract you, that’s alright…”

“Stop kissing me like that…”

“Really? You want me to stop?”

“No… not really…”

“Hmmm… thought so… Y/N!”

“I got the phone! When is it? WHEN IS IT?”

“NOOOO!”

Ben kept on attacking you with waves of kisses and tickles, but you held his phone in hostage, and he ended up losing the war, as you watched the full video together. He expected you to laugh at him, but you didn’t. You simply kissed him hard and tender on the lips, and snuggled into his arms.

It was a happy evening, in a life full of love…

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hey ha! saw requests are open so i take the chance and may request something also sorry for the english 👉🏿👈🏿 soooo the thing is im obsessed with lucifer from sandman in an unhealty way and there is this idea in my head that lives rentfree so luci saves f/reader that is trapped "in" a demon that shows them there bigges fear and all the things and people that they did something to they regret so we are crying and fearing but luci comes like " T_T...you shouldnt be here" grabs over our shoulder puts there wing protectiv around our back und guids us to the illusion that the demon is creating at a point where the illusion brings us to hesitate the next steps luci push us forward and be like the lightbringer angel they are and we are like 🥲🥲🥲 mhmhm thanks and fluff stuff

i know its kinda specific and its ok if your not up to this but want to drop here im a fan of your writhing so im looking forward to everything you post xD

so have a good one ans thanks for your time 🌚❤️

Hiiii anon!! Thank you for the request! It’s detailed, and I love that 🥰 I tried to follow your request as best as I could. Hope you Enjoy!! 💞💞

Shadow Shadow ~Soft!Lucifer Morningstar xGN!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, happy ending fluff, demonic possession, crying, anxiety, implied anxiety attack, greatest fears, comforting, pet names, fluff ending, etc.

Enjoy (:

The dishes had piled up in your kitchen sink. They had been bothering you all day, so with a sigh, you got up and went over to address them. You started cleaning the dishes one by one…

Your ears perked up when you thought you heard the door move. You looked back at the kitchen door, but it hadn’t moved. Odd, you thought.

Suddenly, you felt something invade you.

The feeling was hard to explain… Your eyes rolled back and you started levitating off the ground slightly, as a sharp, yet un-uniform, non-physical shape pierced and entered you. You let out a strangled scream as you started to feel your body go numb. You were sucked into yourself, having no control over your body anymore, somebody else was now at the wheel.

Everything around you was dark. You could still vaguely see through your eyes, but you were being pulled into the darkness more and more.

Suddenly you were pulled into a memory filled with true fear and terror. You started to shake as you were forced to relive these twisted thoughts and memories. They were warped, having heightened fear and fright. You started crying, falling to the ground and shaking uncontrollably.

You didn’t know how long you were in those state, but you were cradling yourself on the ground, scared to death and sobbing uncontrollably.

Suddenly, you heard a voice, not one of your own.

“You should not be here…!” The booming voice exclaimed.

You then felt the invasion start to be pulled out of you.

The feeling was still hard to explain… Your eyes rolled back and you started levitating off the ground slightly, as a sharp, yet un-uniform, non-physical shape pierced you once more, but this time exiting you. You let out a strangled scream as you started to feel your body come back to you. You were sucked back out of your depths, having finally control over your body again, the somebody else at the wheel now gone.

When your vision came back to you, you saw a tall figure with strong wings standing in front of you. You were still shaken and scared for your life. Your lip trembled and you immediately put your hands in front of your face to protect yourself.

“My name is Lucifer.” The large being spoke softly, bringing one of their wings around you, “What’s your name, little thing?”

The wing around you made you oddly calmer. You felt protected. And you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I… Y/N…” you whispered, wiping the tears away for your eyes.

Lucifer nodded slowly in understanding.

“That is a lovely name.” They cooe, “I am sorry that you had to experience that, my sweet…”

“What… W-what was that…?” You whispered.

Lucifer sighed.

“One of my more roudy demons who got away from me.” They admitted, “It won’t happen again. You need not worry.” They reassured you.

“No but what was that…?” Your voice trembled as you thought back to the horrific feeling that you had felt in every bone of your body for that time.

You winced and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks once more. Lucifer sighed in sympathy.

“You see, Demons like to thrive off of the human mind… And this demon specialized in fear” They explained gently, “So the demon pulled out your biggest fears to feed off of and survive inside you. Humans call this possession.”

Tears began to flow down your face once more. You nodded at their words.

“It was so awful…” you choked out, your voice cracking.

Lucifer’s wings held you closer and their hand came behind you to rub your back.

“I know, little one…” they cooed lovingly, “But the demon is gone now. It will never bother you again.”

“Ok…” you whispered, looking up at the Lightbringer with watery eyes.

“Thank you” you choked out.

“Anytime, little one…” Lucifer gently spoke, “I’ll come back to check on you soon, alright…?”

You hiccuped and nodded. Then Lucifer left and you were back in your kitchen. With your dishes.

~~~

Lucifer Morningstar Masterlist

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Goldenheart choices

1. Pirate or surfer Ambro and mermaid Bal au

2. Tinker fairy bal and human ambro childhood friends au

3. Fae Bal and Hunter ambro, (if you want smut? Top ambro, bottom bal with vines as bondage)

4. Riririkinzi's little mermaid au drabble (angst, fluff, or smut)

Ok so I chose Pirate/Mermaid (movie ver.) And let me tell you this was SO much fun to write!!!! I might continue it into something more long-form on my AO3, is that something anyone is interested in?? Thank you for the request anon! I hope you don't mind all the creative liberties I took ❤️

--

Ballister lifted himself up onto the rocks and sang, his brilliant black tail flicking the water beneath. It was the curse of the sirens that they should be forced to sing, forced to lure the sailors who would linger among them, enraptured, until succumbing to starvation on the barren seabanks of their island. The sirens did not wish to see their beloved muses suffer for them, but if any ship was able to resist their call and pass them by, or if any sailor managed to leave their island, they would all dissolve into the salt of the ocean. So he sang with his brothers and sisters, as beautifully as he could, desperate to lure any ship that came within earshot of their island, to preserve his family. Siren voices carry for well over a mile.

Just as usual, the ship crashed on the rocks and the surviving sailors were thrown to the sea below. They would need to retrieve them. Of course it would be easier to just allow the sailors to drown, but just as the sailors were enraptured by the sirens, so too were the sirens captivated by the sailors. It was nice, sometimes, to have their company, but in addition to that, sirens could not reproduce with one another. To keep their island alive, they needed to rescue the humans.

Diving below the sea, Ballister saw what appeared to be the Captain, based on his attire. He was young to be a captain, with blond hair that whipped and floated in the water. Ballister wrapped his arm around him and carried him to the surface, ushering him to the rocky shore.

Canals ran through this island of boulders, allowing the merfolk to interact with their human pets for however long they had. There was some freshwater springs, but no food. Sirens didn't need to eat.

He rested his hand on the Captain's chest and pressed until all the water was out of him. The man coughed and sputtered. He met Ballister's eyes. "You. Were you the one singing, with the beautiful voice?"

Ballister cradled his head and smiled. "I was singing with my brothers and sisters. We each have our own song. They harmonize when we sing together, but each one is a melody on its own."

The captain blinked. "What was your song?"

Ballister opened his mouth to sing softly. The man's eyes widened. "That's it! Your song is the one that I heard!"

Ballister blushed. "You only heard mine? We were all singing."

"I heard the harmony when we got closer. You all sounded lovely. Are you a mermaid? Or a siren?"

"I'm a merman," Ballister said with an annoyed albeit amused lilt. "But I am also a siren. They're the same thing, you know."

"Oh." The man looked over the stones and into the water, his eyes widening as he caught a glimpse of Ballister's tail. "You don't look like you'll try to eat me."

Ballister laughed. "We don't eat sailors! We don't need to eat. We live forever, unless we are killed or captured. I am a Guardian, I protect the island. You seem to be a pirate, but you don't look like you're going to brutally pillage me."

"Heavens no!" The Captain laughed nervously. "We aren't those kinds of pirates. I was the heir to a corrupt, powerful fishing company. They were exploiting their sailors and stealing from the public, so I rounded up some sailors and now we take down their fishing boats. We don't hurt anyone, we recruit those who want to join us and bring the rest home. Anyway, do you all have names?"

Ballister snorted. "Yes, and mine is Ballister."

"My name is Ambrosius. Hello, Ballister." Ballister just smiled and nodded. They weren't supposed to remember the humans' names. It made things too hard.

The siren's eyes widened when a warm hand, with a skin far more textured than his own cupped his face. "Has anyone told you that you are so beautiful, Ballister?"

He blushed and sank a bit deeper into the water. "I am frequently told I have a lovely voice."

"No," said the human-- the Captain-- Ambrosius. "That's not what I mean. Your voice is beautiful, but that's not what I mean. Something about your eyes. You're just the most gorgeous person I've ever seen. Not something I thought I'd ever say washed up on a boulder to a half-fish man, but I mean it."

Ballister laughed, but something inside him twisted. The siren's seductive magic lies solely in his song. He cannot keep a human captivated unless he is singing. He wasn't singing, but this man still looked at him with that look in his beautiful almond eyes.

Ballister had already decided that this human was going to be his. But now, he was starting to feel sure that he didn't want to let this one go.

[cyberllfe]

you replied so quickly i got excited. 😭 also, i totally understand! please perceive my request only when you are able to! there's a veeery big reread factor in your fics so they will busy me for a while. 😤

with that, erm, i spun the wheel and i kid you not,,, it landed on the 1500. 😭 i am also, admittedly, a nines simp and would love to see him with the "nurse me" prompt as someone studying a health allied program. 😖 again, thank you so much for your writing, i would genuinely love anything you put out. lots of love!

— anon from the italian mob <3

thanks for waiting, anon. make sure you listen to nines and get some rest, hm? (ao3 link)

1500 words, rated G.

want a turn? prompt me.

“I’m fine.”

You’re not. Anyone with eyes could tell you’re not, and Nines sees more than most.

True to form, he wastes no processing power arguing with you, just presses a cold compress to your head and watches with amusement as you make an embarrassing sigh of delight.

When you’re calm and a little warmer in the face, Nines presses a glass of water into your hand with a pointed look that says, very clearly, drink up. You accept the glass, savouring the delicious cool against your skin but fighting the urge to rest it against your face, and peer up at him, impish.

“You’re analysing me, aren’t you?”

Nines’ lip twitches. “Your temperature is 103°F.” He pushes the covers higher over you. “You need rest.”

“I know I’m hot.” You thrust the glass back towards him, mostly empty, and try to ignore how your hand shakes sends the water sloshing. “What’s new?”

Nimble fingers take the glass from your hand and you let your arm fall, since it feels so damn heavy. The covers cradle you so nicely. Your brain sits with that thought, and the cosy softness under your arm, until you feel firm pressure against your chest, pushing you back. It’s stronger than anything you can resist, even under regular circumstances, and leaves you nestled amongst a column of pillows that envelop you just like the covers.

It feels so soothing—sharp change in altitude aside—that you forget to be annoyed that Nines is manhandling you in such a mundane way.

“Hey.” The hand doesn’t move from your chest. “I need to breathe, Nines.”

Leaning in so close that your breath tickles his cheek, Nines’ mouth twitches again.

“I’m not stopping you.”

You’re wandering in a familiar grey, too lost to respond—but of course, that’s the intention.

A part of you that expects him to leave, and it’s why you’re hanging on. When the fight slowly leaks from your body and you deflate gradually, letting the bed take you, Nines tucks the sheet around you closely. You realise that despite your head being on fire, the rest of your body feels pretty cold. It’s nicer with the covers close.

He refreshes the compress on your head, applying gentle pressure. A single bead of water runs from your temple to your jaw; the cold makes you shiver. Nines catches it with a deft swipe of cloth before it can go any further, then sets a fresh glass of water on the table next to the bed.

When he’s done, he slides into bed beside you.

For a considerable time, you drift in and out of consciousness. Not dreaming, not really, but you’re wandering through a fever-warped imaginary world. More than once, you could have sworn you were conscious; your brain fills the space between thoughts with nonsensical sounds and images while your body rages against infection.

Nines is there every time you wake up. He looks down at you when you stir in your plush cocoon, and you’re struck by how casual it is—it’s not the clinical, sharp android eye that watches you, but. something far softer. He brushes away the stray mess of hair obscuring your eyes but they’re already half-closed, and soon after, the abyss takes you again.

*

Hours later—it has to be, it’s dark outside now—he brings you food. You’d wondered where he was, why he’d left you with nothing but a Nines-shaped impression in your mountain of blankets, until you smell something delicious that you can’t place. Somehow despite his many skills—and perfect willingness to show them off—you hadn’t expected that he’d cook for you in the middle of the night.

It’s sweet, and to your half-awake brain, it’s funny. Nines, delicately carrying a bowl of soup, garnished beautifully with a swirl of cream and a light sprinkle of herbs, while dressed in your apron. It’s a good deal too short for him, and it makes you laugh, then cough, then hastily reach for the water he left you.

With a slightly clearer head, you notice a few more things. His arms, bare to the elbows with his shirt rolled back and folded crisply; a little of his hair has fallen out of place, probably from the heat of the stove.

You’re watching him with too much intensity for a little too long. By the time your gaze meets his eyes you find mingled consternation and amusement, but he doesn’t chastise you—especially when you accept the offered spoon without protest.

Your open hands take the soup without argument, too; ravenous hunger has hit you from what seems like nowhere, so you sit up, prop yourself against your pillows, and cradle the bowl as if it’s precious.

It’s perfect, of course. Nines tells you that he’s taken care of some basics around the house—he’s cleaned your kitchen, for example. There’s more soup, for later, after you’ve rested some more, and he’s fixed the malfunctioning dial on your stove. Just because, with that unspoken loftiness—except it’s just because it helps you.

Not really giving him your full attention, you glare at him, a heavily laden spoon already in your mouth, and he laughs. It breaks the tension left in your body. Between the warmth of the food and the company, you feel soothed—aches and all.

While you eat, Nines reads to you. To your surprise he’s expressive—entertaining, even. It’s a calm choice of story, and he pauses when you laugh to watch your face, sometimes so intently that he chases your eyes back to your food.

He’s still reading when you’re done. You don’t want to interrupt him with thanks, and in any case, you don’t really have the words for your appreciation, so you cosy up beside him. When he looks at you his expression changes—softens, as if in acknowledgement, and you get the feeling he notices it in you anyway, the way he notices everything else.

With one wide, smooth motion he grabs your cold compress—refreshed and ready for you—and repositions it against your forehead, before brushing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. They’re cool but not cold against your skin, and you close your eyes, savouring the small relief, the calm of mutual understanding, before pushing closer to him, into his touch.

“Please keep going,” you mumble, muffled by the covers.

You can’t see, but Nines smiles down at you as he does.

*

You wake in the very small hours of the morning. There are birds merrily chirping in the trees that line the street.

In the stillness you’d assumed you were alone; Nines makes you jump when he shifts to lay parallel beside you.

“Thank you.”

You don’t quite know what else to say. The words aren’t enough, but your mind is still fuzzy and stalling any means of finding better ones.

Nines reaches out to touch your face and gives you one long, serious look, in lieu of accepting your thanks. You see something in him, the way he watches you, appreciation of an obscure kind—he considers your thanks unnecessary, but he can’t seem to say so, nor does he accept them.

“Your fever’s broken.” He touches your chin. “How do you feel?”

“Better.”

The cool morning air feels pleasant against your skin for the first time in days. You don’t shiver, just lay in your spot, savouring the contrast with the toasty bedsheets.

“Good.”

Now your discomfort is receding, you’re sharply aware of how bad you must have looked. You stifle a groan. How untidy it is, to be human.

“I… you’re lucky, you know.” Nines frowns. “Androids don’t have… this.”

“What?”

“All the human stuff. The mess.” You break eye contact for a beat, but look back, determined let appreciation override the gnawing self-consciousness, despite how gross you must have seemed.

“You are a mess,” he laughs when you express immediate indignation, and you realise you fell for his trap—your comical anger, the hand raised to slap at his shoulder, is a wanted response from calculated provocation. Nines is teasing you to draw you out of your own head. He knows you.

A moment of quiet falls on you both, where Nines catches your hand and rests it against the bedsheets, nestled in his.

“Don’t you think that, if I preferred to avoid human problems, I simply... would?

“It might have occurred to me,” you murmur, following the thumb you rub against his soft fingertips where they’re intertwined with yours. “Sometimes it’s just… very obvious that we’re very different.”

“I know,” he says, as if you missed the point. “Difference isn’t a flaw.”

Nines shifts his arm to lay his palm beside yours, skin receding to show smooth white accented in glowing blue. It’s gone seconds later, but you feel his hand against your chest, then your neck.

“I don’t mind the mess.” A dart of pink tongue behind parted lips. “In fact, I think I’ll make it worse.”

[chvoswxtch]

hahaha i’ve been sending you silly little anon messages every now and then for weeks! but i decided i wanna come off anon for the celebration!! <3 so huge congratulations on 2k miss court 💘 you deserve it so much.

i would looove a margarita based on the lyric “i loved you in spite of the deep fears that the world would divide us” (from dancing with our hands tied hehe) with the one and only frank castle <3

you deserve every single one, and more, of your 2000 followers!!! thank you for writing, thank you for indulging us in our fantasies, and thank you for being so unwaveringly kind through it all 🌷cheers to many more 🥂

my marvelous mia 💚,

thank you so much for your kind & lovely words, and thank you so much for joining me at the bar. cheers to you, darling. 🥂

also sorry this is super angsty I don't know what happened but when I read that lyric and re-listened to the song, this is what my gremlin brain came up with

blurb below the cut

dancing with our hands tied

i loved you in spite of the deep fears that the world would divide us

“You…you don’t know what you’re sayin’.”

Frank couldn’t look at you. It would be easier to walk away if he couldn’t see the look in your eyes; a broken reflection of his own disappointment and disgust. 

“Frank-“

“I am what they say I am. I did all those things. Hell, did more than they even know ‘bout.”

Frank wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more right now that him leaving was the best idea; himself or you. The world knew the Punisher was alive. That meant that everyone who ever wanted their own vengeance against him knew he was no longer a ghost to be whispered about, but a monster to be foolishly hunted. 

If his head was the prize, your heart was collateral damage.

This was what was best. It would keep you safe. 

But fuck if it didn’t hurt. All he wanted to do was hold you, but how could he do that with his hands still stained red? How could he taint your skin with someone else’s blood that lingered beneath his blunt nails? 

Sooner or later, you’d realize what he really was, and he’d rather you walk away than run. 

“Frank, will you please look at me?”

He couldn’t look at you, because then he would want to stay. He’d want to be selfish, and give into his own delusions of a second chance. A livelihood that wasn’t so violent. Four walls filled with nothing but you and him. A sacred promise around your left finger. Maybe even a goddamn dog. 

You had appeared out of nowhere, like a mirage of an oasis in the desert, and Frank didn’t want to remove his cup from your heavy handed pour of love and affection. You were the sun in the center of his universe, radiating pure warmth that melted the layers of frost surrounding his abandoned heart, and now he was helplessly trying to shove it back into the freezer.

Frank closed his eyes when he caught you moving out of his peripheral vision, letting his head hang in shame between his shoulders as your delicate palm cradled the back of his head. Your other hand gently caressed his cheek, pulling him in closer so that you could touch your foreheads together, and Frank fought like hell to keep the floodgates from bursting open as he gripped onto your waist like a lifeline.

“I want you to listen to me. I know exactly who you are, Frank. And I still love you all the same. There is nothing you could ever do that would change my heart. I know you’re afraid, and I understand why. I know being with you comes with risks. I knew that from the very beginning. But Frank…I’d take five minutes of madness with you over a lifetime without you. The safest place I have ever been is with you. So please…please don’t leave, baby. Please stay. Just stay with me.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss, pouring every word he couldn’t speak into your mouth, holding you so tightly to his chest, he thought you might merge into one single being.

You wanted him. You loved him, despite everything. You didn’t want him to let go. You didn’t want him to leave.

You wanted him.

As the two of you stood there grasping onto one another in the middle of the living room under the glow of the moonlight, Frank realized what a fool he’d been.

He couldn’t leave you if he tried.

[somber-sapphic]

No More Bad Dreams

This was requested by 🦊 anon who I am desperate to find as I am done with their latest fic but don't want to post it until I find them! Here's an old one in hopes that my tags will bring them back lol.

Elle is gone for two weeks and finds you sick, sniffly and miserable.

=====

Two weeks. Elle had been gone for two weeks. And she’d come back to find you in a shivering mess on the floor, whimpering to yourself about some sort of case related nightmare. She couldn’t imagine what being so sick on a case like the one she’d just left would’ve gotten you. 

Penelope had been giving her updates on your condition, letting her know how you were refusing to eat and how high your fever was, etc. etc. She had worked her ass off to solve the case as quickly as possible, using every avenue to have to do so, some that she was not entirely proud of. The Unsub liked brunettes, so she flirted. It worked like a charm. 

“Hey bud, it’s time to get off the floor.” She sighed, kneeling down beside you. She squeezed your shoulder, trying to pull you out of your nightmare. Your eyes flew open at the gentle touch and you flinched away, not fully recognizing the blurry, chocolate eye’d figure. 

Those eyes brought you comfort, smoothing down the jagged edges of your fever induced nightmares and pulling you back into the real world. She was home and you were incredibly relieved. It wasn’t that you minded being alone, it was that you felt horrible and being alone was a hellish disaster that resulted in you falling asleep on the kitchen floor. 

“Elle…” You rasped, reaching up for her with sluggish movements, feeling sort of like a baby with the way you were trying to grab her. Elle pulled you up into a sitting position and held you close, cradling your head against her chest. 

You clutched a fistful of her loose shirt and coughed, your chest burning with the effort. Sitting up had made you dizzy and your vision was full of spots. There was a real concern that you might pass out, and definitely would have fallen and cracked your head on the floor without Elle’s support.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you’re being super dumb.” The brunette said gently, her voice full of kindness and love. That was her way of showing she cared, that was her way of showing affection. She didn’t often do showy romantic things, but she had her own way of proving her love. 

After a particularly rough case she’d make the two of you mugs of cocoa and you’d curl up on the couch together with a crappy sitcom to wind down. Eventually, you’d get around to actually share what’s wrong with the other, but that typically required some sort of alcohol. 

When either of you were sick though, all of the norms were gone. She’d spoil you with absolutely anything you wanted, even going as far as to make soup, which she absolutely despised. For a woman so good at cooking, she sure as hell hated it. 

When she was sick she got extra clingy. You’d watch romcoms together, get her ice cream, help her shower and yell at Gideon if necessary. You knew she’d do the same for you. Your work schedule was incredibly demanding, working for the FBI was of course rewarding, but also exhausting. There were times when you just needed to rest and take care of yourselves. 

“Have you checked your temperature at all?” Elle asked, pulling you out of your quiet musings. You squinted up at her, trying to remember anything from the last few days. Judging by the fuzziness in your brain and the heavy feeling in your limbs, you either hadn’t checked it, or you had and then neglected to take any sort of medication. 

“I’m going to take that as a no,” Your girlfriend sighed, tucking a strand of your damp hair behind your ear. She laid a hand on your forehead and hissed softly, her expression turning from loving to pure worry in half a second. Tears filled your eyes at her sudden change and you pulled away, wondering if she’d be angry with you for neglecting your health. Your former partner would’ve been. They probably would’ve just left you alone to fend for yourself. 

“Shit, your fever’s really high, we need to get this down, babe.” She said, cupping your cheeks with both of her hands. Her face was a mix of emotions, but you couldn’t detect any anger. 

“Okay, here’s what we're going to do,” She decided, frowning over at the bathroom. She was probably trying to decide how exactly she would get you there. “I’m going to start the shower, but we're going to keep it lukewarm so that we can get your fever down a little. Do you think that you can shower on your own?” 

You hesitated, honestly unsure if you could do it by yourself. You sniffled and rubbed your nose on your sleeve, giving her an uncertain nod. The brunette smiled and kissed your sweaty forehead, doing a good job at not showing her disgust. 

“Good. You shower and I’ll make you some tomato soup.” She helped you stand and walked you to the bathroom, staying with you until the water was at a temperature she deemed acceptable. 

“Need help changing?” The profiler smirked, raising her eyebrows at you. You wrinkled your nose and pushed her playfully, nearly falling over with the small expenditure of effort. She grabbed your waist to keep you upright, face contorting back into one of concern. 

“Are you sure you can do this? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You forced a smile and nodded, blinking away the dark spots dancing in your vision. 

“I’ll be fine. Don’t burn the house down.” You leaned over and kissed her forehead, pushing her out of the room. 

The shower was awful. You made it about halfway through washing your hair before you got too dizzy to stand up and resolved to just sit on the floor under the cool spray. Not only did your body hurt, but the water was much colder than you thought it should be. Sure you had a fever, but was it really bad enough that it warranted pellets of ice on your head?

“Y/n, you alright in there?” Elle called, drawing you out of your spiral of self pity. 

“M’okay. Out in a minute.” You slurred back, practically dragging yourself out of the shower. That's when you realized that you had forgotten a change of clothes. So there you were, standing in the middle of the bathroom, dripping wet, tears beginning to fill your eyes. Every minor inconvenience set you off when you felt this awful.

There was a bathrobe. Comfortable enough, and cozy. It wasn’t quite clothes, but it was clothes enough. You dried off quickly and crawled into the robe, wrapping yourself up in the soft fabric. 

You emerged from the bathroom and plodded into the kitchen, leaning comfortably against the woman who was stirring the pot of soup. She chuckled softly when she saw your outfit and grinned at you. 

“You look adorable, but you need some real clothes. C’mon sweetie, let's get you into bed.” She teased, turning off the stove before wrapping an arm around your waist. You put your head down on her shoulder and yawned hugely, feeling the heavy exhaustion weighing upon you. 

Elle helped you into a soft shirt and flannel pants before laying you down in your big, soft bed. You sniffled softly and laid back, curling up under your duvet. She kissed your hairline and grabbed the remove, quickly turning on a Disney movie, which was one of your sickday pleasures. 

“I’m going to get you a bowl of soup, just stay put.” You listened, too tired to get up and follow her anyway. Normally you'd just ignore her warnings and do what you wanted, but your body had pretty much given up on moving. You turned your attention to the television screen, on which an orange fish was swimming too far away from the reef. Stupid fish. 

You were thinking about the damn fish and why it was making dumb decisions when Elle returned with a steaming bowl of tomato soup. She sat beside you on the bed and smiled, looking beautiful as ever. Her smile was gorgeous. Everything about her was gorgeous. 

“You’re pretty.” You mumbled, sniffling quietly. The congestion had settled in your sinuses and you rubbed your nose on your sleeve before coughing harshly into your elbow. The coughs grated against your throat, bringing your attention back to the incredible pain there. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt absolutely miserable. 

“Okay honey. Swallow this for me.” She produced a pill and a glass of water which you downed silently, wincing as the pill scraped down your throat. 

“Good. Now, a few bites of soup and you can go to sleep.” Since when had she gotten so demanding? Well, she’d always been firm, but now it felt like she was being mean. You whimpered and took the bowl, uncertainty filling you. 

She wrapped an arm around your waist and sat beside you, using the other hand to keep the bowl from spilling in your shaky grip. One bite. That’s all you managed, you couldn’t do it. The warm soup was probably supposed to help your throat, but all it did was make everything worse. 

You shoved the bowl into her hands and shook your head, curling away from her. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden change in demeanor. She knew that you had mood swings when you were feverish, but this was unprecedented even for you. 

“Hey, what is it?” She asked, putting the bowl down on the side table. She placed a hand on your hip but you jerked away, turning back to her with teary eyes. 

“Please just don't–don’t touch me.” You ordered, trying to keep your voice from trembling as badly as it was. Elle nodded and hugged her arms to her chest, frowning at you. 

“Okay, can you tell me what’s wrong?” How exactly could you tell her? How did you let her know that your body hurt and so did your mind. That the shadows were turning to twisted monsters in your mind. That all you wanted to do was sleep, but your body ached too badly to let you do so. 

“I can’t-it hurts too much.” You finally admitted, feeling stupid for telling her that. You were an FBI agent. Well, you both were, but still. There was a mostly unspoken rule that as agents you couldn’t show weakness. And what had you been doing all day? Showing weakness. You hated it. 

“Oh, love. You’re sick, of course it hurts. You don’t have to eat right now if you don’t want to, we’ll figure it out. Come here, we can just watch the movie for now.” She soothed, pulling you into her arms. You put her head on her chest, your body shaking as you cried. She didn’t mind, just shifted so that she could hold you more comfortably. 

“Just watch the movie. We’ll get everything taken care of.” Elle rubbed your back and turned up the volume on the TV, just loud enough to draw your attention back to the screen. You were still sniffling quietly, trying to keep your tears inside. After what felt like ages, you felt your eyes begin to slip closed as Lilo and Stitch replaced the sounds of Finding Nemo. 

“There you go mi querida. Rest, you’ll feel better when you wake up.” She promised, kissing your forehead. You loved it when she spoke Spanish to you, it felt strangely intimate and always served to calm you down. With those words embedded into your feverish mind, you let the dark, dreamless sleep take over, grateful for the mind numbing cold medicine. No more dreams for you.

[sochawrites]

Can you please do an rimmer x fem reader fluff or the episode the gun men of the apocalypse where reader and rimmer are dating.

Sure I can! And why not kind of both?

I am so, so, so sorry it took me so long to write this, it has been a very weird year and I just could not manage to put aside some time to write. I can't promise 2024 will be better, but we all can hope, no?

I hope this is at least a bit satisfactory to you, dear anon, or any of you souls, still lurking around looking for some RD content.

What do you guys say on the news about Red Dwarf: Titan? I was there when they screened the teaser trailer, if one would call it that, and honestly? I'm pretty excited!

Also happy Holidays!

Adrenaline

Arnold Rimmer x Fem!reader

None of you could help but cheer as Starbug flew away from the burning moon, escaping certain doom once again. You were slowly getting used to these situations, but near-death experiences are still near-death experiences and while you tried to focus your mind on the fact that you were alive, your body and nerves were of a different idea.

You were shaking in your seat, gripping the handles and hardly holding back the maniacal laughter of survival. You had enough adrenaline for today, it would probably be better for you to go and calm down, maybe even lay down before you start to crash.

Pulling yourself up on your shaky knees, you excused yourself and stumbled to your room, almost falling on the way out of the control room. Fortunately out of the sight of others, or so you thought. You slowly made your way up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, painfully unaware of the pair of concerned eyes watching you.

Deciding the bed would be the best place to crash onto, you crashed into a much more closer chair, back turned to the door and closed your eyes shut. You were breathing heavily and the sound of the ship was being drowned out by the buzz and thuds in your ears.

A knock caught your attention, albeit barely. "Permission to enter?", you hummed in response, knowing fully well your hologram boyfriend would not take no for an answer and not having enough strength to speak. There was a pause before Rimmer went into the room, but as soon as he did, he cautiously made his way towards you. You could only imagine him looming over you as he tapped on your shoulder.

"I brought you some water," Rimmer announced to you nonchalantly, leaving the glass beside you. You thanked him as you reached for the liquid with both of your shaking hands, but you were positive he barely heard you.

"That was quite a ride, wasn't it? The adrenaline, the thrill!" Rimmer walked around as if giving you an inspirational speech, "Although I have a feeling that for some, it may have been a bit too much, wouldn't you say so, my dear Y/N?". He turned to you with the last sentence, a playful smirk on his lip, but sympathy in his eyes.

You just threw him a look, not amused by his remark, "Yeah, well, not everyone can be as brave as the great Dan McGrew, right, Arn?".

He pouted, "Auch", and knelt down in front of you, reaching his palm to your cheeks, gently caressing. It was always a weird sensation to touch light, soft or hard, not really cold, not really warm. Leaning into his touch, you planted a kiss on his hand, a small smile tugging at the lips of both of you. "You're going to get used to all of this, eventually." Rimmer tried to reassure you, but you just shook your head.

"'Eventualy' isn't soon enough, starlight." the hologram traped your hand in his, squeezing. "It never is, but you'll be fine, I know it.".

You reached your still trembling hand to the one cradling your face, feeling the threat of tears from the stress and weariness. "How?" you whispered, "How are you so sure about this?".

"Love, have you ever seen yourself when we face the unknown? You always keep such a stone-cold face, looking so brave, so fearless! Adrenaline is a powerful muse, the tremble and tears, it's not you, it's just your body, nothing more." Rimmer was now cradling your face in both of his hands, semi-standing, looking directly into your eyes.

"It's only a matter of time until you get used to the rush and once you do…" he paused, maybe because he was searching for words, or maybe just to make his encouragement more meaningful, "You'll be braver than anyone we know."

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the holographic body, "Even more than Ace?". You felt him hugging you tightly "Even more than him.".

[bawdybooster]

Hi. I think I sent an ask/prompt, but I'm not sure if it went in. But think about like the classic tv show hypnosis. Villain hypnotizes hero or the heroes friend (s) Or hey, maybe both/all of them. And of course it includes the hypno spiral eyes and the whole (look into my eyes" that shit makes me weak as well as the brainwashed heroes going"yes master" love that

I think I might've just answered and written for that Ask/Prompt from the time I'm first writing this, but you didn't mention anything involving Villains or Heroes for it so Guess What? YOU'VE GOT YOURSELF A TWO-FER-ONE COMBO SPECIAL SWEEPSTAKES WITH NO MONEY DOWN.

Also Anon you are sooooo real for that. I don't tend to write the "Yes, Master" style of Hypnosis too much out of fear for sometimes being too mean to the characters I subject to it, but the truth is these are fictional characters I am making up On The Spot for these scenes to scratch the itch I have to search high and low to find. I can be as nice or as mean to them as I want.

Story below the cut!

The doors to the lair flung open as Star-Man marched in with red-hot rage in his eyes. Waves of Grunts flung themselves onto him, trying their best to fight the hero to a standstill, but to no avail. Star-Man simply brushed them off, deadset on confronting their evil mistress.

Spiralwoman.

"Unhand her right now." The Hero bellowed.

"Unhand Miss Vanity?" The Villainess asked innocently, "Why, she's right where she wants to be. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Yes, Mistress~" mewled Miss Vanity. She was curled into Spiralwoman's lap, arms wrapped around her brilliant mistress and head cradled against her bosom. The hallmark of Spiralwoman's influence over her adorned her face -- an ever-present grin and a set of blissfully spiraling eyes, draining her of all thoughts but pleasing her spellbinding mistress.

Spiralwoman grinned as she cupped her prize's cheeks in hand, cooing gently in her ear. "She'd been so distraught when I met her," she explained, "So worried about a love who had enough time for her needs. When I told her I could help take her mind off everything, she was all too eager to share her mind with me."

"I doubt that," quipped Star-Man, and readied his fist. It began to glow with light, ready to strike at the villainous fiend as soon as Miss Vanity was safe. "Step away from the civilian. No one innocent need get hurt today."

The villainess tutted and whispered a command into Miss Vanity's ear. With a giggle of delight, the hypnotized damsel sprung up from her hypnotic mistress and waltzed away from her.

"Go ahead," Spiralwoman grinned, "I'm all yours~"

With a crackle, a beam of light cascaded from Star-Man to Spiralwoman, shining through the dark and dreary lair to strike her at her seat. It roared through the air like a lightning bolt, only to strike out a few feet from the fiendish woman. Star-Man gasped as Spiralwoman continued to sit there, unfazed by his efforts. She beckoned for Miss Vanity to return, and the damsel leaped back into her lap.

Spiralwoman chuckled. "All I had to do was sit down with Miss Vanity here, and the next thing I know, I'm learning all the limitations of your abilities, Lucian."

Star-Man tried his best to remain unfazed, though he was shocked to hear his name on the lips of one of his greatest enemies.

"It's amazing what you can get people to do when they're so willing to Look Into My Eyes~"

Before he could even register what she'd just said, Star-Man's eyes erupted into a hypnotic pattern of spiraling colors. He'd been so preoccupied with the bombshell that's been dropped on his world, that he hadn't noticed his gaze had become locked on the Hypnotic Villainess sitting before him, her beguiling presence drawing his focus to her before ensnaring him with her swirling eyes.

Beautiful, mind-numbing colors flowed from her into Star-Man, swamping his head and leaving him to marinate in the giddy feeling of bliss that wrapped around his brain. The hero's mind buckled, his thoughts choked out as that wonderful sensation overtook him, rendering him blissfully limp and pliant in her hypnotic hold.

"That's It, My Shimmering Star," said Spiralwoman. "Just Be A Good Boy And Let Your Mistress Take Control. You Want To Be A Good Boy For Your Mistress, Don't You?"

"Y... Yes, M-Mistress." Star-Man murmured. He wasn't quite sure what he was saying, but he only knew that it made him feel good.

"Kneel For Your Mistress~"

The Hero obliged, chanting "Yes, Mistress~" as he dropped to his knees at his Mistress's command. An empty grin twisted itself upon his lips, eager to do however his Mistress pleased.

Spiralwoman stood from her seat, walking slowly to her latest thrall with Miss Vanity giggling in tow. She eyed the defeated hero with intrigue, pulsing more and more of her addictive spirals into him.

"Drink Me Up, My Shimmering Star," she commanded, "Let Your Mistress Cleanse Your Mind Of All Your Worries And Strife. Let My Spirals Hug You Close In My Embrace. Submit To My Every Command."

"Yes, Mistress~" Star-Man grinned.

Spiralwoman turned her attention to the damsel wrapped around her finger. "Vanity," She beckoned seductively, "Do be a doll and help your Mistress for a moment. I want to be sure I've choked out all his instincts to rebel against me."

Vanity nodded and pounced onto Star-Man, wrapping herself around his neck. Star-Man winced as he felt himself drawn into a headlock within her arms.

"Comfortable, Star-Man?"

"Yes, Mistress~" He responded in a somewhat strained voice.

"Good boy," Spiralwoman cooed, "But We Can Make You Even More Comfortable, Can't We Vanity?"

Star-Man gagged as he felt Vanity squeeze around his neck, giggling in agreement with her Mistress.

"You Can Have You Stare Into My Eyes And Listen To My Voice And Get Lost In My Charms All Day For Your Mistress, Can't You?"

"Y... Yes, Mistress..." Star-Man struggled.

"But That Will Never Leave You Fully Mindless, Will It?"

"Y... Yes, Miss... Mistress..."

"That Will Never Leave You Enslaved To My Will."

"Yes... Mistress..."

"And You Want That More Than Nothing Else, Don't You?"

"Y-Yes... Mistress."

"Good Boy~" Spiralwoman grinned. She raised a hand to Star-Man's face, gracing his cheek with her touch. He looked like he was going to faint.

"But I Know How We Can Make You My Little Star-Slave. Isn't That Right, Miss Vanity?"

Miss Vanity lit up with delight. "Oh, won't you kiss him, Mistress? I want to see him become yours just like me~"

"That's Right!" said Spiralwoman. "All I Need To Do To Make You Mine Forever Is To Kiss You On Your Lips. But Do You Know What I Need To Make That Happen?"

"Y... Yes, Mistress...?"

Star-Man gasped as Miss Vanity squeezed around his neck tight, forcing his eyes wide as Spiralwoman bore into him with her gaze. Spirals of color swirled over the hero more than ever before as the Mesmerizing Mistress before him gave him an evil, twisted smile of delight.

"I Need You To Beg For It~"

Star-Man's mind focused on Spiralwoman's command. "P...Please..." he begged, trying to get the words out amidst his love's choking hold on him.

"Please What?" Spiralwoman teased.

"Please... Please, kiss me... Mistre--"

His voice was cut off as his Mistress pounced upon him like a hungry cougar, tossing him and Miss Vanity back onto the floor. The Hero's eyes rolled back in pure bliss as Spiralwoman's lips rolled over his own, pushing back and forth in a kiss that tasted of pure ecstasy. She was sweet on his lips like a heavenly candy, sugary and affectionate, melting into his mouth and trickling down his throat. Her tongue wrapped around his and squeezed, taking the lead on a dance of delight that threatened to drown him in pleasure.

He moaned and felt his mind weaken. With every second that passed, he felt like his mind was being drained from him through his lips, sucked through that wonderful kiss that he wanted to last forever. The pleasure was consuming. He felt like he was being consumed. He wanted her to devour him. He needed to be an empty vessel for his Mistress. A puppet she could command and use however she pleased for whatever she desired.

Her lips left his mouth with an audible Pop!, wisps of his breath still pouring from his mouth. She left him panting under her grasp, silently pleading for more of that wonderful sensation.

Spiralwoman picked herself up and stood before her sprawled thralls, a wicked grin eyeing her prize with newfound power.

"Arise, My Star-Slave~"

Star-Slave rose from the ground, standing tall for his Mistress. His eyes were empty of all thought but her spiraling beauty. His lips were formed into a beautiful, blissful smile. He was no longer a Hero or Savior of the Day.

He was His Mistress's newfound toy.

[neverchecking]

I am always on the sky is perfect train. Bros majestic. Imagine walking into the kitchen and seeing him cradling your child with one hand and cooking with the other. Like imagine he turns around and flashes you a grin before setting everything down to give you a soft kiss and whisper “good morning, love” leaning his forehead against yours while hugging your tired body against his (He might forget the food in this blissful moment of love and infancy. But whatever). Then pressing a parting kiss against your and your kids cheek before picking up a packed lunch and heading off to work.

And that night when he comes home to you over the stove finishing off dinner and your kid playing in the front room, he’ll sit down and start playing with your child, and when you call them for dinner he’ll get up and sit down to the chair closest to yours. After dinner he’d encourage the little one to help with the dishes while you relax and then they scheme to lavish you with hugs and kisses.

After a little family cuddle pile you’ll get your kid ready for bed while he watches with a soft smile. Tucking the tiny little kid into bed and kissing their forehead (sky would come in and smooth the blankets out before also giving a little forehead smooch). And then sneaking out of the room with Sky in tow. Afterwards being absolutely smothered in sky’s love. Softly giggling under the moonlight before laying to rest together (maybe some canoodling ensues 🫣).

Just soft dad Sky. I’d pass away, literally.

-🧪 (also sorry if this isn’t very good. I’ve never been the best writer)

JODNJFCONVCNCF 🧪ANON YOU HAVE FED US SO WELL I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

MY UTERUS IS CRYING MAN

THE BABY FEVER IS SO HIGH WITH THIS ONE GORFNFF

[sh4wty18]

How would Jake help his gf who just finished a rigorous and tiring semester of college?

Also, can i be 💜 anon

omg yes of course!!! yayyyy first anon <33

i think he would put together a basket of things he bought for her that he knew she’d been wanting throughout the semester, and he’d write her a letter detailing how much he loves her and how proud he is of her :(

at the end of finals week, he’d definitely make her a fancy dinner with multiple courses, even if he’s not the best chef. he’d have a movie marathon for her, and he’d promise not to fall asleep!! they’d build a pillow fort together in his living room and fall asleep cuddling and giggling like little kids.

“do you know how proud i am of you?” he asks, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“how proud?” you question in response, craning your neck to grin up at him.

“so fuckin’ proud,” he whispers, yanking your body on top of his to cradle you into a massive bear hug. “my baby’s a fuckin’ genius!” he shouts dramatically.

you lift up your head, smiling down at him appreciatively. “i love you.”

“i love you,” he rebuttals. he holds your face in both hands to smother you in kisses. “i love,” kiss, “love”, kiss, “love you!”

[philistiniphagottini]

wordless ways to say I love you #15 w ryou bakura? 🥺💗 (Also yes I am the last anon that requested bakura before, I just love him and I swear I'll request other characters one of these days 😭)

Yay, I'm so happy you came back and requested for more :D I don't mind, you can keep requesting the same character all the time if you want, I'm happy to write. I hope you enjoy :)

Prompt List

Prompt 15: Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

cw. fluff, minors DO NOT interact

You stirred in the early hours of the morning to your partner’s restless tossing and turning. The sun had yet to peek over the horizon and when you finally struggled to peel your eyes open, you were greeted to the familiar darkness that surrounded your bedroom. You groaned softly, rubbing the sleep that clung to the corners of your vision as your mind was slowly dragged into the waking world. You gazed to your partner huddled on the other side of the bed, blankets thrown across their body haphazardly as they continued to dream. A sharp gasp tumbled from their lips and you could have sworn your heart nearly jumped up into your throat at the sight of them.

Beads of sweat dotted Bakura’s brow, soft, fluffy strands of snow-white hair damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead. A jumble of incoherent noises tumbled from his parted, bruised lips in a breathless whisper, eyes dancing wildly beneath the lids as he struggled to breathe. You immediately scooted closer to his side of the bed, leaving the warm confines of your blanket as you hovered closer.

"Bakura?" you called softly.

Your hand gently grazed his bare shoulder, the muscles tensing under your touch like your fingertips had suddenly burned him. Another concerning noise bubbled up the back of his throat and you were quick to realise that he was having another nightmare. Your heart sank at the thought of how frequent his dark dreams continued to haunt him, even to this day. Old wounds that may never be healed. You gently shake his shoulder again, trying to softly coax him awake yet terrified of causing further harm. His face pulled into a grimace, body trembling as he slowly started to curl into himself. His fingers clutched the bedsheets tightly, jaw tense as a soft hiss whistled through his teeth. You couldn’t bare the sight any longer and you redoubled your efforts.

"Ryou, come on, wake up" you whispered, jostling his arm. "You’re having a bad dream. Just follow my voice."

The violent tremors wracking his body slowly started to die down as he called your name. Pale lashes fluttered against his cheeks as his eyes abruptly snapped open. He jolted awake, body rigid as his senses slowly started to crawl back to him. Your touch was like a soothing balm as you rubbed your hands along his arm, calming his racing thoughts. His body slowly sank back into the mattress, a huff of air blowing past his lips and ruffling the wisps of hair that fell into his eyes.

"A dream" he muttered. "Just a dream."

A small sigh of relief tumbled from your mouth; heart settled back into your chest as you swallowed around the small lump in your throat. Thank the stars he was awake and calming down. His gaze flicked in your direction and even in the dim lighting he could see the concern tugging at your features.

"I’m sorry love, did I wake you?" he asked, voice dry and throat parched.

You shook your head with a soft smile. "It doesn’t matter. You’re awake now."

You tentatively reached for his hands, a soft gasp falling from your lips at the cold touch of his fingers pressing into your palms.

"Your hands are freezing, Ryou" you said, voice laced with concern.

You cradled them to your chest, desperate to work back a spark of warmth to his deathly chilling skin. A soft smile tilted Bakura’s lips, his heart fluttering at the thought of how much you cared for him. You huddled closer to him, snagging the blanket and dragging it closer to both of you as you threw it over your bodies. You lay on top of Bakura like a protective blanket, trapping him in a bundle of warmth. He chuckled softly, lips brushing against the tip of your nose.

"Thank you."

"Are you alright, Ryou?" you asked, settling into his arms as they circled your waist. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A small hum stirred in the back of his throat. "Not right now. Perhaps in the morning."

A moment of silence fell between you as you hugged Bakura as tight as you possibly could, hoping that it could help make him feel better. You broke the silence with your next question.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" you asked.

"Not particularly."

"Oh…I could stay up with you?"

Another soft chuckle blew past his lips. "It’s okay. You get some rest. You look like you need it."

"I’m not that tired" you grumbled.

As soon as the words left your lips, you were stifling a yawn. A fond smile stretched Bakura’s lips as gently pat your back.

"I’ll be fine. Holding you like this is enough for me."

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Hi Grey.

If you ever have the time I would really like ti hear more about your writingprogress.

Like. How do you come up with your ideas? Do you do a outline? Where and when do you write? Are you finishing all your stories before posting them? Do you fact check things? How long time does it normally take for you to finish a story? Have you ever regretting posting a story? Why do you write? Do you have a beta?

Youre one of my favorite authors here and I’m really just curious of the mind and work behind the story’s that I’ve spent so much time with.

weeping. I'm one of your favorites???? what the hell??? thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you for being so nice. that just made my day.

i am going to put the answers to all those things below a cut to not spam my dash with a long post. but also, i shouldn't give writing advice ever and while i appreciate you asking your questions, everything with a grain of salt. because...i know absolutely nothing and this is just what I do. (and also, im an affectionate idiot so <3)

How do you come up with your ideas?

often my ideas start with a very very specific image in my mind, and then i go from there. sometimes they happen while im listening to a song (for example, FFTF happened because I was listening to Since We're Alone by Niall Horan and there's a line in there that says Why would you want to be someone else? I love you best when you're just yourself and an entire wolfstar narrative exploded, but i had to figure out how Sirius would be guarded in this particular way and....here we are) or sometimes when im on a walk or driving. also, as a total cop out, i write romance-- i get ideas from making foolish scenarios in my mind where people should fall in love and I'll never have a shortage of those.

Do you do an outline?

No! I don't. Once I have the idea, i usually start by writing the specific scene that came to me first (so for ten reasons, i wrote the voicemail scene first. i heard remus's voicemail in my mind so loud and clear and wrote it out) and i go from there. this is for my own unpacking but i almost always can see how things end in my mind before they begin (lol, isn't that a fucking metaphor; for a fun personal fact, I've always said since i was like...very little that i wasn't planning on living past 33, which is horrifying to hear out of a ten year olds mouth, but like...i still think its true). for almost all my fics, i wrote the ending first and then wrote around it. never chronologically. just everything that i want to happen and then i put it in some sort of order (i wish i could show you my doc for tight ends right now). and then i make them lead into one another.

I DO. however, do an obligatory chapter count. and i mean, so arbitrary, with no thoughts applied to it. NMTW i literally said 14 chapters, and stuck to it. this is the only structure i give myself when i write. and its my job as a writer to make sure i fit in there.

i do the same when im writing tumblr series. so like fault lines got SIX, chosen at random, and six it was. it was my job to tell that story in six parts. no more no less. (this is admittedly weird, i understand most writers dont work this way, but this actually helps me immensely. the only time i deviated was with FFTF when i added more chapters because the chapters i did have ended up being like TOO LONG in my eyes for a chapter, so i broke them up).

but also--i know other authors who DO outline and its helpful for them!! Find what works for you!!! I tried to outline once and the fic never left my drafts.

Where and when do you write?

To quote Shakira, "Whenever, Wherever"

I write a lot in parking lots on my phone. a lot of my tumblr drabbles are written on my phone and in a parking lot, ten reasons and tight ends were both started in parking lots.

otherwise on my desktop! in google docs! or if its smut, in a word doc! i write the best early in the morning or super late at night when i should be sleeping. I write when i can! Usually at my desk, or i'lll bring my laptop over and write while my kid is playing video games or we're watching something on tv. sometimes i write in the middle of my work day when i have a second in my office (this is also very quick and very on my phone). i just wrote smut at a nail salon. whenever, wherever.

Are you finishing all your stories before posting them?

yes. head to toe, top to bottom, signed sealed delivered. the stories are written before i post. this works better for me! i need to see the whole thing finished!! it also makes it very fun for me when readers are commenting and are like...in anguish, and im there like "tee hee, i know what happens next".

tumblr drabbles no. i pants those. fault lines, mercy, the pact (is part four written? nah but its started and i have no idea where its going to go!!!), the best worst thing to have ever happened-- PANTSTED. sat and written flat into the tumblr post machine. no outline, no plan, just feelings and vibes. (and yes this means that the end of fault lines was a pants decision and im very sorry it ruined everyone, whoops).

this again varies from author to author! most of my writer friends write as they go because they like to be align with the readers! or they work better chronologically and will just write and post and write and post, but again, this is something personal! do what works best for you!

Do you fact check things?

Lol sometimes? I probably should more often, tbh. I do a lot of geography fact checking because i couldn't map my way out of a paper bag, but otherwise, not...really. But also, my fics dont tend to have a lot of....information in them that needs a fact check. People are just falling in love. also, not to flex, but i have a big brain that stores a bunch of useless information and remembers a lot of things, so if i write something i usually believe myself (writing tight ends right now and putting my football knowledge to good use and there's been a few times I've been like "...hmmm" and referenced google and WE WERE RIGHT! so i mostly just trust my brain.)

Writing NMTW was also challenging because i had to reference SOURCE MATERIAL to see if there was a designated teacher for x subject, or when exactly school breaks were etc etc. but that said, i did not care about being accurate with full moons or course timestables or hogsmeade visits or anything like that. we...simply do not care. (this obviously does not apply to things that very much need fact checking such as if i were to write a medical procedure or something relating to disability or race/ethnicity/languages spoken; obviously do your homework for that.)

How long a time does it normally take you to finish a story?

Cop out-- it depends! Sometimes less than a week. (The pact is short, will be done by tomorrow most likely). I wrote ten reasons in four days. it took me 3 months to write an alleged wip though. it just....depends on my time and my schedule.

Have you ever regretted posting a story?

Sometimes! There was a moment when i was fresh on AO3 (pre-tumblr) where i got a few really nasty comments and it made me regret posting the story at all and made me regret joining AO3, and made me regret thinking my fics could be a thing or that my writing was worth sharing etc. I know I give FFTF a hard time because they're....out of pocket, but there are parts of that fic i really really like, and it seems to connect with a lot of people, so i can't have regrets about that.

i have deleted a few one shots off my AO3 though, because i decided they didn't need to be shared, but i wouldn't necessarily call that regret. just...re-evaluation.

Do you have a beta?

No. I do have one trusted person though who i send things to before i release them into the public, not as a beta but as.....a litmus test (to see how the fic reads but also for me and how i feel about sharing it in the first place; I've done it before with this person where they got something and then WEEKS later tumblr got it. Sometimes months.). I 10/10 recommend doing this. and i feel so so so so so so lucky that i found someone like that here and they tolerate my existence. but pre-tumblr, it was just me myself and i doing the thing. and also it took some time before i even trusted this person (did i mention im paranoid? and private?) to get my work because you can't take it back. and what if it didn't need to be shared? there are a few things this person has gotten that i havent and will never post. but like...im so fortunate to have that. you know?

I...am way too chaotic for a beta. and also have a very particular way i edit my stuff (because ND) and adding another person into the flow of that can get confusing. Too many cooks, you know?

Why do you write?

i saved this one for the end because my heart.

i think i've said before that like...a lot of my time as a child and a teenager and young adult in spaces was spent believing that i was a bad writer because neurodivergent and i don't understand mechanics of grammar or...words or...write in a way you're supposed to (outlines for example). and spent a lot of time giving my ideas to other people who i thought were GOOD writers.

but i...am a creative person. and sometime in 2019, i hit the biggest artist block of my life where i literally didn't draw or paint for a year. and picked up writing instead.

poetry, and then it evolved into romance, which i...turned into fic and here i am. and ultimately, i write because i like to. because its creative and it makes my brain happy when a sentence just hits, you know? because i believe in love and want to see more queer love stories and if i...can do the thing, i should, right?

i write because i...realized that i had stories in my head that needed places to go that i couldn't express visually through my artwork. also, ive mentioned it here before, that i am...young and have experienced an absurd amount of death and loss in my life (personally and professionally). and...well, i write a lot of fics about grief for that reason. i don't think i could ever run out of words for this (and have also published ACTUALLY on grief, both creatively and academically), and sometimes i write to like...sit with those feelings for a bit.

i...also think i write because i am a soft human in a very hard world in a hard career path who experiences things deeply and these things and observations need places to go. i cant carry them around all day, that's too heavy and my hands aren't big enough.

so i make art. and i dance. and i play music.

and i write.

i hope any of this is helpful. and if you get the courage to come off anon, i am more than happy to talk with you in DMS about processes or answer any more questions <3

[kitkatscabinet]

Losing my religion

Osferth x reader

Summary: After fearing you lost to battle Osferth makes his affections known before regret colours his actions. He is Saxon, and you are Dane, it can never be.

Requested: yes, by anon

Word count: 1.5k

The air was rife with the stench of blood and death, Osferth himself was covered in the grim aftermath of battle. He was aching and exhausted, mind and limbs begging for him to lie down and sleep. Yet he could not allow himself to retire, not until he had found you. Had verified for himself that you were alive and well.

Stumbling, his eyes poured over the faces of corpses and he desperately called your name, praying to God that you had not been taken from him. The longer he searched, the more he began to despair that the Valkyrie had claimed you for Valhalla.

Even as Finan dragged him back towards camp, promising your place there, he could not help but to fear for the worst. To fear that he would never see you again. Lost to an afterlife that he would not be a part of.

"What is your heaven like?" you suddenly asked, taking him by surprise. He had been lost staring into his ale when your voice reached his ears. Turning his head he felt his heart stutter at the sincere curiosity in your eyes.

"Why do you wish to know?" he finally managed to reply. Grinning you had punched him lightly on the shoulder and then said

"I need to know if I am to break into your heaven and demand better accommodations for my baby monk." It took a few seconds for your ridiculous words to sink in but when they did he found himself unable to provide an answer, too lost in the complete sincerity on your face.

My baby monk. He knew you had likely meant it in a teasing way, yet he could not deny the warmth that had filled him at the possessive word.

Your grin faded slightly at his lack of response before you gently took one of his hands in your own, "I must also admit, selfishly, I do not know how I will bear a life without you by my side, but the knowledge that you would be happy will have to be enough."

Osferth could not say when he had fallen in love with you, because his worry had finally proved to him that that was what he felt for you, but he thinks it may have been that night in the alehouse. Or perhaps it had been your tenacity, battle prowess, or sincere curiosity and respect for his god.

He is not given the opportunity to fully process his feelings before he finally spots you. He was running before he even realised, calling your name with a feverish desperation that had you turning to him in alarm.

"Osferth what?" you don't get to finish your question before he is sweeping you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. He buries his face into you, uncaring of the sweat and gore covering you. Suddenly his mind is screaming that it isn't enough and he is pulling back to cradle your face in his hands before leaning in to catch you in a bruising kiss.

He pays no mind to the jeering shouts that echo around the two of you, lost in the softness of your lips against his. His mind is blissfully silent, any thoughts that weren't pertaining to the feeling of your embrace completely drowned out. The feeling of you eagerly kissing him back, one hand pulling him closer by the tunic and the other gently tugging at his hair. One of your thighs had moved to slot between his legs, the shock of it finally pulling him out of his trance and causing him to jump away as if he'd been burned.

Shamefully he is immediately drawn to the hazy look in your eyes, swollen lips and heaving chest as you attempt to recover from his unexpected attack.

"Osferth?" you called confusion, lust and hurt all warring within yourself. Suddenly the illusion is shattered, your voice grounding him back in reality. Heaven and Valhalla, Saxon and Dane. As much as he craves your companionship, your being, your very soul to claim as his he knows he cannot, his god and yours would undoubtedly frown upon such a union.

"Osferth?" you called once more attempting to reach for him, voice tinged with a shy hesitation that was incredibly uncharacteristic. He cannot bear to see the apprehension on your face any longer and in turning to escape his own shame misses the devastation that overcomes your being at his departure.

"Did I do something wrong?" you whispered in anguish, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. Finan had been quick to pull you into his own arms, loudly decrying Osferth as a twat as he attempted to soothe your hurt and anger.

Finan had spent the better half of two hours pulling you from your sorrow and then talking you off the ledge from killing the baby monk. Yet as he laid eyes upon the boy Finan felt as if he might just finish the job himself, Sihtric definitely would have.

But as he observed for a little longer, intent on remaining calm, it quickly became apparent that Osferth was just as, if not more miserable than you.

"That was quite a show you put on back there baby monk" he called, moving to claim the empty seat across from the boy whilst stealing his ale. Although his words were teasing his tone was anything but. Osferth's face drops even more, free hand coming up to clutch at the cross hanging from his neck. He doesn't respond though and Finan was suddenly too tired to be patient.

"You made them cry" Osferth physically recoiled at that, "running off like that. Damn near broke their heart. What the hell is wrong with you?" the anger was back once more, driven by the image of your tear-stained cheeks.

"They were crying?" Osferth's voice was pitiful and Finan cursed God for making him care for such an inept idiot.

"Of course they were crying! They love you!" the Irishman all but yelled, "and I know you love them, so what's stopping you lad?" he ends on a softer note, having noticed the turmoil in the ex-monk as he gained the sinking feeling he knew exactly what the issue was.

"I thought I'd lost them today" Osferth whispered, "and I think it's the first time I've truly realised that once that happens... I will never see them again. Not in heaven."

"So you would sacrifice yours and their happiness whilst you are alive?" Finan probed.

"I-"

"You deserve happiness Osferth, don't deny yourself on the uncertainties of death." Finan firmly interrupts, only to watch in confusion as Osferth's gaze travels past his shoulder. Turning he is met with the sight of you, eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from your tears. He sees your face scrunched slightly in pain before you swiftly turn to exit.

Luckily Osferth does need prompting to bolt after you and Finan can only hope he does not fuck up again.

Sprinting as best he can Osferth repeatedly calls your name, forcing himself to move faster when you completely ignore him. He quickly manages to catch up, gently tugging at your arm until the two of you are secluded from prying eyes.

"Osferth I am tired" you gently plead, attempting to pull back from his grasp. Yet after seeing you, seeing the damage he had done he cannot bear to let you go again.

"No please, just listen" he begs, one hand reaching up to gently grasp your face, a move you cannot help but to lean into. You stay silent, though you do not pull away and Osferth takes that as permission to continue.

"I'm sorry" he starts, only to wince as you scoff. "Not for kissing you, never for that" he quickly rectifies, "for being a coward, for leaving you, for letting you think I did not... love you" he whispered, finally confessing to you as well as himself.

"Then why-" you shook your head, still wary from your earlier hurt.

"I told you, I was a coward. I let god get in the way of-" this time it is you who cuts him off.

"Oh Osferth no. I could never let myself come between you and your god, I know how important your beliefs are" you reached up to grasp at his hand still holding your cheek. The understanding that had suddenly washed over your face was enough to bring tears to the corners of his own eyes. What had he done to deserve such kindness, to deserve your care he did not know. What he did know, however, was that you had to have been an angel.

"You are the most important thing in this life" he asserted, leaning his forehead against your own. "Let me be the most important thing in yours" he begged.

"You already are" you promise, leaning in to kiss him once more, everything else lost to the pair of you as you allowed yourselves to finally drown in one another.