#when within their own stories; are completely different

[ihaveforgortoomany]

What are your thoughts on Kumar?

Depresso, very depresso especially at the end of the event where she completely gives up on everything and can only see the final outcome of her decisions is just to die. God the bullet Kaala has will actually just haunt me in the implications of where she got it and how. And the fact that for a moment she believed she had saves Kumar when reality was so much different.

There is a reoccurring theme within R1999 of researchers being discredited in their own work and an exploration of how they found their resolve to continue afterwards. We see places where this actually worked, Marcus in meeting Madam Hoffman and Windsong meeting Vila. Maybe had Kumar never met the Manus, or potentially had met someone like Vertin since she also is an arcanist (unclear if shes partially human or something else) who at an early age was unable to cast incantations and even now only is able to cast the basic of skills. Maybe a different method could have been found without becoming fatally detrimental to Kumar.

Its so interesting how it is hammered home that people with very little arcanum cannot cast incantations, much less powerful ones. Sometimes you forget that the Hoffmans are arcanists since they have such little arcanist blodd within them (enough to kill them if they consumed picrasma candy)but then again what actually divides the difference between human and arcanist?

So yeah very depresso but also fascinating in how we keep seeing parallels to other characters and the main story.

[romanceclub-confessionss]

As a Russian-speaking user, I really don't think and don't believe that most Russian-speaking people "don't like love interest lines when the partner in it has dark skin." Absolutely not. Communicating with the HUGE Russian-speaking fandom, I noticed that every fourth one chooses a "non-white" favorite. Those with whom I communicate personally are of the opinion (like me) that the love line is what attracts people to lead this love story, first of all, with its character, charisma, humor, and attitude towards the main character. Appearance only matters for the first impression.

It is very unfair to label entire audiences by communicating only to their most unpleasant side. There are intolerant people in every country and every culture, and the problem of "colored" is actually greater among English-speaking users due to historical reasons.Russian speakers treat this with a lively childlike interest; there is no "skin color protocol" in society due to the historical reasons why the problem of oppression arose in the Americas in the first place.

All the best, cookies to the admins)

first of all, while you might have a russian speaking circle that is open-minded to diversity, the broader reality within the ru fandom tells a whole different story. for instance, let's not act like the case of And The Haze Will Take Us was the very first time russian players acted this way. the ru fandom was extremely outraged over characters of colour being introduced in W: Time Catcher and 7 Brothers as well. the reactions delved into blatantly racist comments, that there are "too many" non-white love interests, and that they are "uncomfortable" with it.

second of all, as someone from eastern europe, i can say that extreme racism has always been historically embedded in russian society. and not only with people of colour, but even with other slavic groups/eastern europeans (ukranians, belarusians, etc) and other ethnicities within their borders (rroma). it basically extends to anyone perceived as "other". this isn't just a modern issue.

also, isn't it ironic that while you are complaining about the ru fandom being generalised as racist, you are doing the same exact thing to the english speaking fandom? by saying they are "more racist due to historical reasons", you are literally generalising an entire group based on language and geography, while completely ignoring the fact that bigotry exists everywhere, INCLUDING russia.

instead of deflecting and gaslighting, you should acknowledge and work on your biases within your own community.

all the best.

- mod stef

[iwonderwh0]

Fun fact: Philip K. Dick in the original "Do androids dream of electric sheep" used androids as a metaphor for nazis. This vision, however didn't get to the film adaptation (1982) where the narrative got changed (which is not a bad or good thing. Just curious how androids are used to refer to different things in fiction)

Some Philip's quotes from this interview:

For me the word ‘android’ is a metaphor for people who are physiologically human but psychologically behaving in a non-human way.

---

I got interested in this when I was doing research for "the man in a high castle" and I was studying Nazi mentality, and I discovered although these people were highly intelligent they were definitely deficient in some manner <...> and as I studied the Nazi mentality <...> I became conscious of a very highly intelligent human being who is emotionally so defective that the word "human" could not properly be applied to him, and I used this in my writing in such terms as "Android" and "Robot" but I'm really referring to an actually psychologically defective or malfunctioning or pathological human being

---

By the time I got to sheep I was revolutionary enough and existential enough to believe that these defective personalities were so lethal, so dangerous to human beings that it might be necessary ultimately to fight them. In other words that they could not be cured they cannot be changed and that it might literally wind up as a contest to see whether the humans won or "Androids" won. Now, the problem then would be that would we become like the androids in our really effort to wipe them out?

---

If you kill a person because he is inhuman do you not become inhuman in the act of killing him?

[commsroom]

to me, the question of whether hera would want a body is first and foremost a question of autonomy and ability. she has an internal self-image, i think it's meaningful that the most pivotal moments in her character arc take place in spaces where she can be perceived the way she perceives herself and interact with others in a (relatively) equal and physical capacity, and that's worth considering. but i don't think it's about how she looks, or even who she is - and i think she's the same person either way; she's equally human without a body, and having a body wouldn't make her lived experience as an AI magically disappear - so much as it's about how she would want to live.

like most things with hera, i'm looking at this through a dual lens of disability and transness, both perspectives from which the body - and particularly disconnect from the body - is a concern. the body as the mechanism by which she's able to interact with the world; understanding her physical isolation as a product of her disability, the body as a disability aid. the body as it relates to disability, in constant negotiation. the body as an expression of medical transition, of self-determination, of choice. as a statement of how she wants to be seen, how she wants to navigate the world, and at the same time reckoning with the inevitable gap between an idealized self-image and a lived reality, especially after a long time spent believing that self-image could never be visible to anyone else.

it's critical to me that it should never imply hera's disability is 'fixed' by having a body, only that it enables her to interact with the world in ways she otherwise couldn't. her fears about returning to earth are about safety and ability; the form she exists in dictates the life she's allowed to lead and has allowed people to invade her privacy and make choices for her. dysphoria and disability both contribute to disembodiment - in an increasingly digitized world, the type of alienation that feels like your life can only exist in a virtual space... maybe there's something about the concept of AI embodiment, in particular as it relates to hera, that appeals to me because of what it challenges about what makes a 'real woman.' when it's about perception, about how others see her and how she might observe / be impacted by how she's treated differently, even subconsciously. it's about feeling more present in her life and interfacing with the world. but it's not in itself a becoming; it doesn't change how she's been shaped by her history or who she is as a person.

i think it comes back to the 'big picture' as a central antagonistic force in wolf 359, and how - in that context, in this story - it adds a weight to this hypothetical choice. hera is everywhere, and she's never really anywhere. she's got access to more knowledge than most people could imagine, but it's all theoretical or highly situational; she doesn't have the same life experiences as her peers. she has the capacity to understand that 'big picture' better than most people, but whatever greater portion of the universe she understands is nothing next to infinity and meaningless without connection and context. it's interesting to me that hera is one of the most self-focused and introspective people on the show. her loyalties and decisions are absolute, personal, emotionally driven. she's lonely; she always feels physically away from the others. she misremembers herself sitting at the table with the rest of the crew. she imagines what the ocean is like. there's nothing to say that hera having a body is the only solution for that, but i like what it represents, and i honestly believe it'd make her happier than the alternatives. if there's something to a symbolically narrowed focus that allows for a more solid sense of self... that maybe the way to make something of such a big, big universe is to find a tiny portion of it that's yours and hold onto it tight.

[cowardlylearningtobebrave]

.

[kyseya]

Ancient Mummy

Imagine working as an archaeologist for a museum. However things hasn’t been going so well lately and there are hardly any visitors during opening hours. Sadly, you’ll be forced to close multiple exhibitions and if conditions are not met, the entire museum might have to shut down.

But by some miracle, a new tomb has been discovered in Egypt; undisturbed, unexplored and completely untouched by humans for centuries. It’s said to be the grave of an ancient king- a pharaoh- who was betrayed and murdered by his own cousin.

It’s the perfect opportunity! Maybe you’ll find something that can bring back interest and by extension, save the museum.

You go along with a few other colleagues to the site in Egypt. The journey was a bit tough but it was a hindered percent worth it. With avid curiosity you explore alone and with the others, the different things to find inside the tomb; artifacts and additional discoveries. It’s all very interesting. Wanting to save the best for last, you finally get an in-person look at the grave itself- the sarcophagus.

You have already heard the main tale of the pharaoh within, so you are a little surprised that there is more to the story than you previously believed.

Over the entire stone coffin were multiple hieroglyphs, each one helping and becoming a story together. Your collegue read some inscriptions and told you a basic summary of what it’s about.

Centuries ago there was a king. He had a wife whom he adored more than anything. She was provided with riches, glory and honour. There was nothing he wouldn’t accomplish for her. The people saw the care he held for his wife and therefore both respected and feared her as well, since any ounce of rudeness might end up with their heads spiked on a pole. It was a punishment fitting for those who dare disrespect his queen.

Unfortunately tragedy struck- a disease, more specifically. It took the lives of many and left whole villages empty. That hardly mattered to the pharaoh though, all his focus went to his ill wife; she, too, had been snatched by death. Up until the moment of her demise the pharaoh spent all day and all night at her side, attentively worrying about her needs. When she was gone he was ruined. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t even have the energy to clean himself. What was the point? His beloved was gone so there wasn’t really anything left for him.

It was after this that everything took a turn. It appeared that the king had enough with laying around and decided to do something. There were records of him behaving strangely- even by ancient standards- and drabbling in dark magic. He was later overthrown by his brother, who ordered him to be buried alive. It was quite the terrifying penalty go give one’s sibling. The brother didn’t want the darkness to spread out into the world from the old pharaoh, so he locked him inside the sarcophagus and sealed him far away.

What a tragic story, you thought. Well it was back in the old times and a lot of things were practiced then that aren’t okay in modern day. You suppose it wasn’t the most horrible incident that have happened.

It hadn’t been long since your colleague told you the backstory of the tomb and its inhibitor, but now the others wants to get to the good part and open up the stone coffin. You don’t think it’s the best idea in the world- of course something like this needs to be examined closely and so on, but there is something special about the tomb.

Ever since you’ve arrived, you have had a strange feeling following you around. It’s hard to explain. You feel almost drawn to the sarcophagus or perhaps it’s because it feels as if it is looking back at you. You tried ignoring it, however, the feeling came back stronger than ever the moment the others began preparing to open it up.

You should have told them of your concerns. If you did, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

The first few seconds after opening it everything was fine. All was as it should be; people flocking around to see the discovery and fawn over it while being mindful of its fragility. Then it changed. Your colleague who had been the closest had suddenly been strangled by the thin, dirty arm belonging to none other than the ancient corpse that previously had been resting in death. Everyone was silent as her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. It was only after she fell to the floor dead that people began panicking. It was hard to process what had just happened, after all.

There was chaos.

Folk ran around like chickens fleeing from a fox that’d managed to get inside the coop. In a way, that was exactly what was going on, though. You had watched as the mummified corpse sat right up and climbed its way out of the cold coffin. It stumbled on its bony legs and quickly found a cornered man and approached him. He screamed when the mummy grabbed ahold of his face and brought it before its own. The creature started sucking the life out of the man- literally.

The man who had previously been a healthy and active person was now shrivelled up like a raisin. His face was dry and wrinkled. He died soon afterwards, only a soft wheeze leaving his lips as he passed.

The opposite seemed to happen to the former-corpse, though. It attacked more and more people and for every kill, it appeared to revert to its original state- a man, pharaoh of an ancient kingdom. The flesh grew back and filled up in the right places and he seemed human again.

How can that be? He had been dead for centuries. Although, just about everything was pretty fucked up in this moment, so his make-over is the least important factor.

You backed into a corner. Your eyes followed the mummy’s every move, it was impossible to look away. There was hardly anyone left apart from you. The one person that was still there was getting attacked by the monster and it wasn’t long until they were reduced to nothing.

Now it was just you and the creature, and it appeared it knew that too.

It turned to look at you. The mummy had now completely reverted back into a man and he was nothing short of breathtaking(and very naked, but you tried not to think about it). It pained to to admit it but it was the truth. He was easily the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. His long, dark hair flowed when he stalked towards you. Despite his outer beauty, you couldn’t forget what you’d just witnessed him do.

Trembling, you pressed yourself against the wall. “Stay away.” you weakly mumbled.

‘This is it. My time is over.’

You closed your eyes in fear and braced yourself for the pain that would undoubtedly come; only it didn’t. Instead of death, a hand grazed your cheek. It was a light touch, one reserved for something valuable and fragile.

A raspy voice talked, “…My love..it is you..”

You had no idea what he said, it sounded like an ancient language. You had studied hieroglyphs but did not know anything about what speech might’ve sounded like. You decided to be brave and slightly opened your eyes.

The mummy was staring at you, but there was no malice or hatred in his expression. In fact, the only emotion you could find on his face was amazement, shock and….love? No, that can’t be. This is not some ‘lovers reunited’ situation.

“How can this be? Death took you and left me all alone- not that I hold you accountable, of course. I know you would never seek to hurt me.” the mummy kept muttering to himself. “Perhaps….the magic worked after all?”

His face brightened and he smiled gently at you. Whilst he happily went on about something, you became more confused than earlier. What the hell was going on? He committed multiple murders in one swoop and now, suddenly, he is acting like you’re friends talking about your day. He isn’t even human! Or at least not anymore, not really.

You voiced this opinion weakly, “Ummm, could you let me go?” You tried pulling away from his touch, uncomfortable at his caresses.

His brows furrowed at your reaction. From the look of it, he didn’t understand you any better than you did him. He focused at the subtle way you attempted to peel his hand off your arm. You let out a yelp when his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you into his embrace.

He leaned down and whispered into your ear, petting your hair at the same time. “Wife, why do you seem unhappy at my presence? I do not understand. Are you not joyous at our reunion? I love you so, I cannot comprehend any reason why you would not wish to see me.”

Even if you didn’t know what he was saying, you could hear the sadness in his voice. The pain and desperation. No! You couldn’t feel sad for him. He had murdured multiple of your colleagues, he’s evil! Although, why hasn’t he killed you yet? It’s very strange indeed.

The mummy continued, “I can sense things are not as they used to be. Things are different now. Although I do not know the extent of it. However I am most certain of one thing; I have miraculously been reunited with my love and I do not plan on letting you fall through my grasp again.”

He held you in an almost suffocating hug.

“I shall make you my queen once more.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Hope you're okay :D

First your writeing it's so good and i love it, and this is mu first time asking you for a request :)

So idk if you aleady did this, i don't remember reading it but i wanted to know how do you think Damian would react when he finally meet his brothers partner?

When JASON borough you home, Damian wasn’t certain whether he was seeing the same perpetually annoying Jason, especially when he watched him look at you as though you were the only one in the room.

It was something completely new, for as long as Damian could remember Jason was a man who held great resentment and anger within himself, which often resulted in making him prone to rash decisions and act out on his self destructive tendencies. So seeing him smile with you, laugh with you, joke with you was a side to him that only Dick had told him stories about.

Damian wasn’t fond of trusting anyone outside of his own family, but he’d be stupid to not see that you were an extremely positive influence on Jason, and soon found himself hoping that his brother wouldn’t be the one to fuck this up via self sabotage. However he didn’t have to fear that being the case when he saw the way Jason seemed more at peace by your side then he ever did in his entire life, his shoulders were no longer hunched and the furrow in his brow was less prominent, his jaw was no longer clenched and is more relaxed.

It was as though Damian was looking at a completely different person and he couldn’t help but find himself being thankful to you for having such unwavering patience with Jason and secretly hopes that you continue to do so for the nearby future. Damian could clearly see that you helped Jason through the moments that he wouldn’t dare bring up to his own family and while that hurt, he’s glad that Jason wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore and was able to carve out a future with you.

‘They’re good for you Todd.’ Damian said once you were out of earshot.

‘I’ve known that since the moment they didn’t shy away from my scars and brokenness.’ Jason told his little brother.

‘You’re not broken.’ Damian corrected as he saw the look upon Jason’s face as he looks at you play with Titus, ‘ you’re healing.’

When TIM brought you home Damian didn’t know that he even got a partner, he didn’t bother to think that Tim was capable of engaging in a romantic relationship with anyone, given how co-dependant he was with that stupid laptop of his.

Damian understood that Tim and himself didn’t have the best of relationship, it wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t exactly ideal for two people who were meant to be considered ‘siblings’, but Damian didn’t want him to be mistreated by anyone regardless.

So when he began to take notice how you took care of Tim without it being overbearing or controlling in the slightest, you made sure he ate properly and took adequate rest whilst letting him uphold his responsibilities. You trusted Tim to take care of himself when you knew you were out of your element and he trusted you to keep ahold of his heart no matter what, and Damian could see that in the way you would boast about Tim as though he was gods gift to humanity; Which to you he very much was with a side order of sarcastic wit.

You reminded Tim that he was more then what he could give to other people, a lesson that Damian truly believed Tim needed to learn and if he learnt that through your relationship then that was good enough for him.

‘I didn’t know you were capable of being in a relationship.’ Damian told Tim and he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Thanks Damian, much appreciated.’ He said sarcastically.

‘You didn’t let me finished Drake,’ Damian told him before continuing, ‘however I’m…glad that you found someone who makes you sees your worth.’

Tim smiled softly. ‘Thanks Damian.’

When DICK brought you home, Damian was quick to follow you throughout your visit to the manor in hopes of getting a good gauge of your character, he valued Dick as his brother and wasn’t just about let him date anyone he decided to pick up from the side of the street one day on a whim.

Damian wasn’t exactly trusting towards you at first -despite the many stories Dick had told him about you- genuinely thinking that by next week Dick would’ve dumped you and bring home another one of his short lived romances, and seeing as how commitment wasn’t exactly a thing Dick was well known for. So he wasn’t expecting much to come out of your visit but when he saw just how happy Dick was with you, holding your hand, practically glued to your side and just acting like an human version of a puppy dog whenever he was with you it was almost sickening; well it was but you get the point.

Not once did Damian see Dick’s adoring eyes wander from you, he was completely entranced by anything and everything you said as though it was gospel. You both were the epitome of lovesick and Damian didn’t know whether he should be happy that it seems as though Dick found someone whom he could be genuine with and no be judged, or be grossed out by how much pda you do.

It was a tossup between the two but Damian found himself gaining some form of respect for you throughout the day and soon would in your corner for most of your playful disagreements.

‘Oh come on Damian, you’ve barely known my partner for a day and now all of a sudden your pally pally?’ Dick whines as Damian stood by your side.

‘So? It’s obvious they’re the one in charge of this relationship.’ Damian replied and you could’ve busted out laughing at Dick’s expression afterwards.

[amomentsescape]

hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile

Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)

Freddy Krueger

He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you

You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed

He loves basking in your warmth

But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees

He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong

But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream

He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims

And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story

It's cute but also so foreign to him

He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be

Michael Myers

He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation

It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time

He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you

But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused

He is more than capable of protecting himself

He doesn't need you getting involved

But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way

He just doesn't like you stepping in too much

His victims are his, and he refuses to share

But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire

Well... then that's fine he guesses

Jason Voorhees

You two are practically different sides to the same coin

He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine

But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met

You're practically the opposite

You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public

But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you

Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull

He just froze up in shock at this realization

He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy

He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long

But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him

Thomas Hewitt

Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him

Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal

That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him

But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief

If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!

They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life

Now he knows there's nothing to worry about

Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side

You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times

Bubba Sawyer

The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee

You're just like him!

You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba

Just like he does for you

It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind

You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you

With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times

He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary

So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis

But he won't try and control you

As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content

Brahms Heelshire

Oh...

He's flattered, don't get him wrong

The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him

And he loves that

But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires

That person is going to die?

Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath

It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there

And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him

Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him

Not to let this darkness take over

You provide, he protects

That's all he asks for

Norman Bates

And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him

Quiet, sweet, affectionate

He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman

But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all

He likes feeling protected by you

It lets him know that you really care about him

And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him

In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things

But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out

It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought

He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person

Who is he to judge though?

Billy Loomis

Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy

But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies

He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side

But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor

When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile

Billy just about lost it

He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself

But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful

He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this

But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more

You're nothing but perfect for him

Stu Macher

He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you

Not in a bad way by any means

If anything, he thinks it's sexy

And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too

You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed

At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn

You two make the ultimate power couple

But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning

And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job

Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be

No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element

But to be fair, he's in the same boat

No one would ever suspect him of such behavior

And that's probably why you two make the perfect team

Vincent Sinclair

He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do

Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe

This must be some sort of dream

You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay

Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?

He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again

But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently

Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary

If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do

He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it

Bo Sinclair

What a precious little thing

It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity

You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him

He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships

And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued

He remembers the first time you saved his ass

He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest

All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual

Bo was at a complete loss for words

He loves this side to you

He still likes to feel all bad and tough

And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence

But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you

[lunahearts]

Soooo I read all of Dungeon Meshi in this past week and I have many thoughts bouncing around in my brain and I think the only thing to do with them is some AGGRESSIVELY CLOSE READING of a scene I wanted to come back to and try to understand better.

So: I want to talk about chapter 28

This entire section of the story is something I feel like I am going to want to come back to a lot, because its such a transitional time and I feel like there are a lot of themes/ideas that I wasn't fully aware of during my first reading, and stuff I missed because of that.

One of the biggest things I have been turning over in my head is... hey, what was UP with the Marcille/Falin bath scene? Maybe it was because I was already primed to pay attention to stuff with them going into the story, or because I had already seen a couple of panels out of context. In any case, it really kind of stuck out to me as being very short but also VERY intense, while also being... hard for me to define? Some part of the nature of the intensity felt like it was going over my head.

I wasn't sure that revisiting it would help with this right away, but to my surprise, it actually WAS a lot easier for me to follow and understand when I went back to it. So I want to just do a close reading of That Scene and some other parts of the chapter & context around it all, because I think it offers insight into Falin & her relationships, and what purpose this chapter serves within the story as a whole.

So first of all, I think it's interesting that the scene starts with Marcille bathing Falin.

It feels very caring in a more platonic, less charged way then what will follow.

Marcille goes from this caretaker mode to joining Falin in the bath, and then of course we get the first of The Panels

(as a small note, I only noticed when revisiting that Marcille is using the rest of her Kelpie soap in the bath. Isn't that just the most heartwrenching little detail. Augh)

Anyway, one of the first things I thought was interesting going back to this is how much it reminded me of the very different sort of intimacy that came just before it - when Laios and Marcille assembled Falin's bones.

This is such a beautiful and intimate sequence, and something about Marcille examining Falin, whole, after the fact... I can't imagine there are not some echoes of those bones in Marcille's mind. The action seems more startling/intense for Falin at first, and maybe part of that is because Marcille has already experienced this level of intimacy with Falin's body in a way Falin herself wasn't a part of.

This panel in particular I think is a summation of the difference in the experience for them. This looks like... near orgasmic for Falin tbh, and Marcille is very focused on the actual like practical part of what she's doing, seemingly completely unaware of the Effect she is having on Falin.

The whole short sequence is focused on this intimacy that Marcille initiated seemingly without fully being aware of what she was actually doing. And once Marcille is satisfied, she is also the one that ends it, sitting back in the bath and moving out of Falin's proximity. All on her own terms, and for her own ends.

HOWEVER... Falin doesn't just let things go.

Instead, she returns Marcille's attention. First, by asking after her wellbeing:

Marcille, of course, deflects (there will be a lot of that in this scene).

But Falin doesn't let it go.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She likes to keep the peace. In this context, and in context of the way that Marcille was the one to come into Falin's space initially, the way that Marcille controlled the initial intimacy... this is striking. I genuinely think that these three panels might convey one of the most assertive actions Falin (as herself) takes in the entire story. One of the only things that outdoes it is the fucking INCITING INCIDENT OF THE WHOLE STORY.

I'd also like to point out here that this action of Falin's also parallels her resurrection by Marcille & Laios. It's is also a forbidden magical action done to save someone(s) she loves, and its something she does TO them, that they are not fully aware/able to react to until its done.

Anyway, back to the bath scene. Falin is taking action here and asserting herself. And how does Marcille react?

She flips out!! She rejects it! She tells Falin that she isn't supposed to be acting like that.

It's a very distancing response from Marcille, and also one that puts her back in that caretaker mode from the start of the scene. She also puts even more distance between herself and Falin by sinking into the water.

Falin doesn't give up though! She continues to assert herself. She's okay, she is allowed to chose to do this.

And Marcille continues to push her away. It looks to me like she only starts to relax a little once she fits Falin into a role she can better define and control. You're a patient, you're recovering, I understand this fact and you don't. Let me take care of you.

But, for a third time, Falin pushes back.

I don't think it’s coincidence that this is where she opens her eyes. She asks directly about the thing that they have both been dancing around:

The resurrection spell. The fact that Falin KNOWS about this, at least in part, recontextualizes the quiet battle for control between the two them. They both know at least some part of the truth. Marcille wants nothing else then to ignore it. Falin wants to be able to talk about it. Marcille's blatant refusal to give her those answers, I think, is what keeps them out of sync - intimate only ever in one direction at a time, never fully together.

And of course, even when directly confronted, Marcille refuses to engage with the truth.

This moment being on the bottom of the page is notable too. There's a beat here. The last panel holds on Falin's face. The reader reaches the bottom of the page, and they are held here for a beat as well, with Falin. It's not quite a rejection yet. What Marcille says isn't directly an answer to Falin's question, but it is a response. A valid one, even! Falin wasn't just asking the question after all, but struggling with guilt that Marcille has every reason to want to reject.

But then you move on the next page, and...

Marcille isn't actually addressing the question at all, not directly. She's deflecting, again. Oh we had a ~difficult time~, there were a lot of "tough situations." Even though she and Falin both know about the resurrection, and Falin has made it clear that she wants to talk about it, Marcille pushes away from the actual topic. She keeps things broad and indirect.

She offers the smallest gesture to Falin - nothing more than a whisper of 'don't worry about it I won't get in trouble' (even though Falin's concern was never just about Marcille getting in trouble).

Marcille then continues to deflect even further, completely changing the subject onto clothes and frog adventures, which seems to distract Falin as well, as she finally gives up on pushing.

And that's where the scene ends! Marcille pushes into Falin's space (without fully realizing), and Falin pushes back. She tries three times to get Marcille to acknowledge her wants, and three times Marcille rejects her, though she does eventually convey some truth. She is honest in her belief that Falin doesn't need to feel guilty, and that things will all work out, even as she continues to deflect the rest of the question. Falin finally accepts that, the topic of conversation changes, and we move on.

But there is a little bit more that happens between them. Towards the end of the chapter, they have this little 'oh no we have to share a bed' situation. Classic stuff.

And Falin seems to realize that the context of this is kinda different now then it was when they were in the magic academy. She's not a kid any more, and they just had those intimate moments in the bath. There's a new tension between them, or one that new at least to the bed sharing of it all.

And in this respect, too Marcille pulls away from what Falin is trying to say. She tries to frame Falin as a kid, tries to insist that nothing is different.

When I first got to this part, it honestly felt... a little uncomfortable? After the bath scene, it is really weird to move into a new intimate situation with Marcille explicitly treating Falin as a kid.

What I have realized in coming back to this scene, though, is how much I think its meant to feel uncomfortable. Throughout the chapter, Marcille's responses to Falin become increasingly patronizing. By letting some of that conflict between them resolve at the end of the first scene, the chapter seems to let things rest, and lets you set it out of your mind.

Then, when the same type of conflict comes back at the end of the chapter, Marcille is even more blatantly treating Falin like a kid, and the unfairness of it hits even stronger. They are both adults, and Falin deserves the truth. After 27 chapters from the perspective of Laios, Marcille, and the others in the group, this progression lets you feel things from Falin's perspective. It's supposed to feel uncomfortable because it IS uncomfortable for Falin, the way no one will quite tell her the truth.

After all, Marcille isn't the only one to do this kind of deflecting when Falin tries to ask about what happened. Laios has a similar response, right down to the 'treating her a bit like a kid' part.

Even more importantly, this final conversation of the chapter reveals one last layer in the knowledge/power imbalance between Falin and the rest of the party: she doesn't actually remember sacrificing herself and teleporting them out.

As I mentioned before, that action was one of the most assertive things we see Falin do in the story, and she doesn't even get to keep that for herself. Instead of being her action, her choice, it becomes yet another thing that the others know more about than her.

I think that's part of why there is such an air of melancholy to this hug they share on the next page

Obviously, obviously, there are so many emotions here for Laios and I don't think its all meant to be viewed as a negative thing, or that he or Marcille are being completely unreasonable. They've been through a lot, and what's more, they think they have time now. So much more time then they actually will have. Time to explain, to open up, to let Falin return to the group in full - as a teammate and not just as someone to be cared for and protected.

But they don't get time. And this relenting by Falin, this "I won't do it again," it's not something that feels triumphant. It's an attempt to comfort them, more a prayer than a promise. As if she is trying to exorcise a spirit. As if she is capable of promising that death won't come, eventually. It's what Laios needs, not what she wants.

That's the real tragedy of the chapter, I think. It's the one time, in the midst of everything, that they have the chance to give Falin what she wants - and they don't do it.

But I do think they realize that, and I think that this failure is a core part of their journey. It's another bittersweet taste to add to the mix - all the missed chances in this chapter to connect, amidst the moments of genuine peace they do get throughout it.

As Laios puts it later...

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, and perhaps if they hadn't failed her here, they never would have had the adventure that they got to share.

(or, perhaps more tactfully: in life & chapter 28, there are both good times and bad. Thanks, Chilchuk)

[vasilissadragomir]

people often use snow’s experiences with lucy gray as an explanation for how he engages with katniss, but i think that the true story of his downfall lies not in how lucy gray and katniss are similar, but rather in how they are different.

snow knew that it was never him that made the games what they are. it was lucy gray, with her scrappy, passionate artistry, that put on the show that kept people watching. more importantly, it was lucy gray that put on the show that kept HIM watching. all he ever did was give her the stage.

ergo, snow recognizes that the person with the power to usurp him is his natural counterpart, someone like lucy gray, who possessed both the charisma and humanity that he sorely lacks. however, in his mind, those traits are not real; they’re performed in order to obtain power. how could he know better, when he’s never experienced them himself, and the only person he ever truly believed possessed them betrayed him?

so snow keeps his eye out for performers, people with gravitas who could capture the heart of the nation, and squashes their spark as soon as he can. people like haymitch. people like finnick.

and that’s where snow goes wrong. he doesn’t see katniss’ similarities to lucy gray from the start, because while they both demonstrate astonishing, intriguing bravery at their reapings, their actions and motivations are completely different. lucy gray is motivated to perform by anger for herself, and katniss is motivated to sacrifice herself by fear for her sister.

but then katniss starts to put on a show for the audience, kissing peeta and being willing to die with the berries at the end of the 74th games. snow starts to see an entirely different side of katniss that resembles lucy gray to a concerning degree. he sees how, with peeta at her side, she could beguile the nation the same way lucy gray had. and, even worse, she was using the poor, helpless boy who had the misfortune of falling in love with her to survive. the moment katniss started performing, he finally sees lucy gray within her. but it’s already too late.

by catching fire, katniss is the spark fanning the flames of the resistance, but snow fails to understand why. as far as he’s concerned, katniss’ star power comes from her connection to peeta. he tries to weaponize their “love” for his own gain, but it doesn’t work, not because people don’t believe that she loves peeta, but because, for the first time, a victor offers their winnings to the family of a fallen tribute.

snow is caught in a catch 22 of seneca crane’s making—if he kills katniss, she becomes a martyr. but if he lets her live, she’ll be a revolutionary icon. either way, she’s the spark. so he has no choice but to allow the spark to flicker, just for a little while. enter the 75th games. snow knows he needs katniss to die a tragic death in the games. more specifically, he needs it to be a brutal death at the hands of a tribute, not the gamemakers, because he understands that as long as the districts see the capitol as the one who ended the life of katniss everdeen, she’ll still be a martyr.

but snow still doesn’t get it. in the quarter quell, the prey does not become predator. katniss’ allies protect her, ensuring she survives until district 13 rescues her. why would they protect this girl, assuming such a steep personal risk? why would they put everything on the line for a revolution they personally stand to benefit little from? he doesn’t know. but he does know that lucy gray katniss is at the center of it all, so he tries to eliminate what makes her look best: peeta.

and that is snow’s fatal mistake. what he, coin, and everyone but haymitch fail to understand is that it was never peeta that made katniss look good—it was katniss, who befriended and put faith in rue. katniss, who recruited mags, wiress, and beetee as allies. she is the source of revolutionary inspiration. it isn’t her charisma or even her compassion, and it certainly isn’t how well she performed those virtues.

katniss becomes the mockingjay because of her solidarity.

lucy gray was charismatic, like peeta, and compassionate, like both peeta and katniss, but she did not demonstrate solidarity. she was never truly “district” in the way katniss is. she showed kindness to jessup, not because he was from 12, but because he showed kindness to her. lucy gray left behind everything and everyone she loved when she left coriolanus, because she was first and foremost a survivor.

katniss was a survivor her whole life, but she survives exclusively to ensure the people she loves are protected. she always does what she can for people more vulnerable than herself. lucy gray couldn’t have sparked a revolution on her own because she lacked the solidarity that makes a hope for a better future authentic to others. katniss is the human manifestation of solidarity, and to a people divided by a common enemy, that’s the most inspiring thing a person can be.

only in the end, when katniss shoots coin, does snow realize none of it was a performance. choking on the blood of his countless adversaries, snow’s final moments are consumed by what he got wrong. what made lucy gray and katniss different ends his reign, but ironically, the final nail in his coffin is an act that both lucy gray and katniss share in their last moments with snow. they both prove, unequivocally, that he is not the center of their worlds like they are his. lucy gray put her own survival before her love for him, and katniss puts the future of her nation before her hate for him. in the end, he simply doesn’t matter. and that’s greater justice than could have ever been achieved if katniss had fired her arrow into his heart.

the greatest enemy to coriolanus snow could only be the person who reignited the embers of a dying revolutionary fire, who demonstrated to a broken people that while one spark alone might not be enough, thousands of sparks uniting in solidarity is an unbeatable force.

and really, he should have known better. after all, even when snow lands on top, fire melts snow.

[auraworkshop]

VOID SUCCESS STORY

I Finally Experienced The Void State

HOW I USED TO VIEW VOID BEFORE I ENTERED

Before I entered it, I viewed the void as the ultimate state of oneness with the universe. I viewed it as the place where I could finally be free from all suffering and limitation. It was a place where I could be at peace and experience the ultimate reality. I also viewed it as a place that was beyond anything I could imagine or describe. It was the place I was drawn to and wanted to experience more than anything else in the world. It was where I knew I could find the ultimate truth and the ultimate peace and bliss.

I was never a fond of it, I just and wanted to feel it, experience it by myself. I don't understand why it's so hyped up after all.

HOW I TAPPED IN

I tapped in by listening to my subliminal. Before putting on the sub I did a special, ancient breathing technique :

Bhastrika or the bellows breath

For this you have to Close the right nostril and inhale twenty rapid bellows-like breaths through the left nostril. Repeat with twenty more bellows breaths through the right nostril while keeping the left nostril closed. Proceed to take twenty bellows breaths through both nostrils. This method helps the body and mind to clear out mental, emotional and physical blocks.

After doing this, I put on my subliminal and a blind fold on my eyes and imagined myself walking inside my own mind and it's getting darker and darker as I get deeper into it, exactly like Eleven did in Stranger Things. Okay, so doing this made me super duperr relaxed which got me slept and when I woke up I knew that I made it! and NO, my void was not pitch dark, I don't know but for some reason it was white, pure white. I felt like I'm directly looking into a bulb you know :)

MY EXPERIENCE WITH IT

My void experience was a feeling of emptiness and peace. Not a single thing was there in the void other than my consciousness. I felt completely liberated and at ease when I was in the void. My thoughts were dead silent and I was just being. I felt a deep sense of connection to the universe and a knowing that all is well. It was a feeling of emptiness and unity at the same time. Everything that is, is within me. It can not be described because it is beyond any description. No words and no labels can truly define or grasp the eternal silence of the void. The void I experienced was full of utter peace and stillness. It was the complete lack of self-consciousness and the total realization of eternity. It was pure, uninterrupted consciousness. It was a place of pure awareness and complete freedom from all attachments and desires. It was a place of absolute silence and the absence of all thought and emotion. It was a place of complete and utter bliss and nothingness at the same time. I felt a deep sense of timelessness and immortality. I felt like I was in my purest form. I felt like I was in a state of total nirvana and perfect happiness. It was like being in a state of pure bliss and complete oneness with the universe. I felt connected to everything and everyone, and it was the most pure and peaceful experience I've ever had. However I have entered the void twice but snapped out on incident within seconds. Staying in the void for hours is totally different :)

MY EXPERIENCE WITH THE VOID IS JUST UNDESCRIBABLE 🤍

I really don't know how to put it into words

I just feel COMPLETED now !

WHAT I MANIFESTED

No, I didn't manifest anything in the void. Manifesting something through the void was never my intention because I already have manifested almost everything just by listening to my subliminals and I love listening to them. But if in future if I'll manifest anything in the void, I'll update y'all about it for sure with pictures.

Believe me or not the void is unnecessarily so hyped up in this community, it's so easy to access it. Now with my experience with it I know how I can be helpful to y'all in regards of accessing the void state.

I know people will ask me for the subliminal that I listened to, so first of all I made it myself, because few days back while I was on my journey to entering the void I listened to a subliminal, which made everything worse, I knew that the subliminal maker has used some bad spells in it, so I made my own sub. No wonders tho because earlier I used to make subliminals for myself and they did worked for me and I manifested a lot of things but I was so lazy that I stopped making them :)

But as I really wanted to experience the void within myself, I decided to work a Lil hard and make a sub for myself and after researching deeply on how I can make subliminal work faster, I managed to made it myself.

I have posted it on my YouTube channel but remember my sub will not work for those who have bad intentions! ThankYou.

Here's the video :

Enter the void in the blink of an eye : Use w/ caution

Make sure to hit the subscribe button because I'll be uploading more such subliminals ! 🤍

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[flickering-chandelier]

In Real Life

Pairing: Azriel x Real world! Reader

Summary: Reader's life in the real world is wearing down on her. So when she accidentally ends up in the world of ACOTAR and in Azriel's arms, she starts to wonder if she even needs to get home at all.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, light smut (I did NOT know where this one was going when I started 😂 😭)

Word count: 4.5k

The stress of the last few days eased significantly as you walked into the library that you knew better than the back of your hand, the one you had practically grown up in.

Your lips curled up into a small smile as you lightly traced your hands along the familiar spines of the books, taking in the atmosphere.

As a kid, your mom had often told you stories about how this library was magical. That it could take you to new places, places that wouldn't normally be within our reach in the real world.

Of course, now you knew that she was referring to the magic of books, how you could be whisked away somewhere entirely different without leaving your chair. Still though, you often thought about the stories she told when you came back here, about how reading near the old well out back could transport you into the book you were reading.

You had tried it countless times as a kid, and unsurprisingly, it had never worked.

Today, though, you were feeling just nostalgic enough and just stressed enough that you thought it couldn't hurt to give it a try, for old time's sake. Surely wherever you could end up would be better than here.

After skimming the shelves for a bit, you picked up the second installment of a fantasy series that you had started a few weeks prior. You couldn't deny that you were intrigued.

You checked out the book and took it out to the garden that very few people ever frequented, in your experience. It was completely empty today, so you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you settled in on the bench near the well, your back pressed up against its side.

The birds were chirping, the tree branches rustling lightly as you dove into the story, and pretty much immediately, you were hooked, thrilled by the characters and the setting.

“I would not mind taking a trip to Velaris,” you murmured, eyeing the well conspiratorially.

For a moment, nothing happened. But then the wind picked up suddenly, sending the pages of your book flying, the pages turning faster and faster, and you just watched, memorized.

It was a sensation you had never felt before. You truly couldn't avert your gaze to anything else.

Then the wind died as suddenly as it had started, and your trance was broken.

When you looked up, your breath was completely caught in your throat. You weren't in the library's garden anymore, that much was clear.

You staggered back against a wall as people bustled around you. Beyond them, you could see a river, and just beyond that were jagged mountains.

Surely, it couldn't be…

You tried your best to focus on the people in front of you, and when you did, you noticed the pointed ears, the elegance that everyone who passed you possessed.

Somewhat self consciously, you reached up to your own ears, only to find that they were now pointed as well. Were you technically one of the fae now?

It was completely impossible, and yet… It was the only explanation.

The well had taken you to Velaris.

You wandered the streets somewhat aimlessly, trying to take it all in, and yet hardly believing your eyes.

Before long, your eyes locked on a man with large black wings, the siphons strapped to his body glowing blue, shadows dancing around him.

Your heart thundered in your chest. Azriel.

It hadn't occurred to you until then that not only had you been taken to this place, but the characters were here, too.

It felt completely impossible to tear your eyes from him. He moved with an assurance you could never hope to achieve. It was breathtaking, really.

The breath was completely stolen from your throat when those gorgeous hazel eyes locked with yours.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, like he was trying to place you.

Azriel seemed to change his course, heading for you, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration.

He towered over you, his eyes assessing your face. You tried not to squirm as he asked, “Do I… know you?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Did he somehow recognize that you were the reader, that you knew him?

This was getting way more complicated than you had ever intended.

Finally, you just said, “I don't think so?”

His eyes narrowed, his shadows curling up towards his ear, most likely communicating with him. Informing him that you weren't completely telling the truth.

“Try again,” he said after a moment, his eyes not wavering from yours.

You sighed anxiously. “Okay, the truth is I don't know if you know me. But I do know you.”

He stared at you for another moment, his eyebrow raised as he scrutinized you. “You're not from here, are you?”

“No,” you said quietly.

As his eyes continued to pierce yours, you understood why he was the spymaster, why he was the one sent to get information out of people. He was foreboding as hell.

“You seem so familiar to me,” he murmured so quietly that you honestly weren't sure if he was even talking to you.

“I'm not sure if I can explain that,” you winced.

He looked at you quizzically, then seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“If I ask you to come with me, will you do it willingly?” He asked.

“The alternative being?”

The side of his mouth turned up into the slightest smile and your knees went slightly weak. “I sling you over my shoulder and force you to come with me.”

You honestly debated longer than you should have. Maybe you should have him carry you out of here, just for fun. Azriel was an intriguing and gorgeous character, after all.

But you also were a little afraid of pissing him off, especially since you had no idea how long you would be here or how to get home.

Decisions, decisions.

Fuck it. When else would you have the opportunity to flirt with a hot Illyrian?

Your lips curled up into a smile and you blinked up at him, fluttering your lashes a little. “I think I'll take option two.”

He just looked at you for a moment, but then he laughed quietly, his eyes lighting up and you felt so proud that it was you that made him look like that.

Shaking his head as if in disbelief, he carefully wrapped his arm around your waist… and then you were inside a house.

Damn it. You forgot about winnowing.

You arched your brow at him and he smirked at you. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the shadowsinger, you took in your surroundings and came to the conclusion that you must be in Rhysand’s town house.

You couldn't help but take a step back as Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre walked into the room, looking at you curiously.

Shit, they're intimidating in real life.

As their eyes seemed to scrutinize every inch of you, you took another step backward, running right into Azriel’s taut body.

He steadied you with a hand on your waist, but you didn't exactly feel comforted. This wasn't really what you had in mind. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Why did you bring her here?” Rhysand asked Azriel, his brow furrowing as he studied you.

“She seems… familiar,” Cassian said, his eyes lighting up slightly with recognition. “Have we threatened you before?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “No, not exactly.”

“That's why I brought her,” Azriel said, looking down at you. “There's something off about her, like she shouldn't be here.”

“Look,” you sighed, trying not to shrink back under the weight of so many powerful people. “I don't mean any harm. I'm here by accident.”

They looked between each other, like they were trying to decide if they believed you.

“Explain, then,” Rhysand said, in what must have been his high lord voice. “How did you get here?”

Your mind whirred, trying to find the words. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you…” but he would if he saw it.

You sighed. You weren't sure what the repercussions could be for you in the real world, but you were here for now, and this might be the only way for them to actually believe you.

“You can look,” you said quietly to Rhysand. “I can't explain it, but you can look.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised, but he took a step towards you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Just look,” you clarified.

He smirked at you. “Smart girl.”

Then you felt the black talons at the edge of your mind, searching inside your head, and you showed him the library, the book, the well, and you showing up on the streets of Velaris.

Rhysand took a step back the moment he exited your mind, his eyes wide in surprise, his body tense.

He just stared at you as everyone watched him curiously, waiting for him to explain.

“I told you,” you said quietly.

Feyre’s eyes widened slightly. Clearly she received the message from Rhys.

“She's not from here,” Rhysand told Cassian and Azriel, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to stare at you like he was trying to make sense of it all. “I … think we should sit down.”

Despite everything, you couldn't help but laugh. You had stunned the high lord into silence.

The five of you sat around a large table, everyone's eyes fixed to your face now. You tried not to shrink back from it.

“A… book,” Azriel said slowly, his eyebrow raised in question.

You nodded slowly. “In my world, you're all fictional characters. And Velaris, Prythian, magic … all of it is fictional.”

Cassian let out a snort. “You expect us to believe that magic doesn't exist in your world, and yet you showed up here?”

You opened your mouth to retort back, but quickly clamped it shut. He had a point.

“And everyone is human?” Feyre asked somewhat skeptically.

You nodded.

“Sounds dull,” Rhysand mused.

“It can be,” you laughed. “That's why we read books about… you,” you gestured at them.

For what seemed like hours, you talked through it, what had happened at the well, details about your world that they wanted to know. They mused and debated for ages about how you could possibly get back home, but not coming up with any real answers.

It was getting late by then, and when you had yawned several times in a row, they seemed to take pity on you, and Azriel was given the duty to lead you to your room.

He leaned against the wall outside your room, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“I think so,” you said cautiously. You hadn't really let yourself think about it yet, how you would get home, how long it would take. “Who knows, maybe I'll wake up at home,” you shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Azriel's mouth quirked up into the ghost of a smile. “That would be a shame,” he murmured.

Heat rushed instantly to your cheeks and his smile widened slightly as he cleared his throat. “If you need anything, I'm next door, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

His eyes held yours for another moment before he backed away, disappearing into his own room.

You did not, in fact, wake up at home, and you honestly couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

After raiding the armoire, you got dressed in a black tunic that was way more comfortable than the clothes you were used to, and wandered downstairs, where everyone was eating breakfast at the same table where Rhysand told everyone your story last night.

They looked up at you expectantly.

“Still here, huh?” Cassian asked, nodding to the seat in between him and Azriel.

“I guess so,” you said, gratefully sitting down at the table and piling food onto your plate.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you and you were suddenly glad that you were still here.

After a minute, they started conversing as if you weren't there at all, and it was surreal to find yourself a fly on the wall during a conversation from people you knew so well, yet were seeing in a completely new way.

Azriel's eyes met yours as breakfast came to a close. “So, in the stories that you were told, about the magic in the library, no one ever mentioned how to get back home?”

“No,” you said. “That part didn't seem important when the stories were just fairy tales.”

“Fairy tales,” he repeated, raising a brow.

You laughed. “Right. I'm literally in a fairy tale.”

He just looked at you for a moment, amused. “I can help you,” he said quietly. “If you want.”

“Help me?” You asked.

“Get home,” he clarified. “Or at least, I can help you look for answers.”

“You would do that?” You felt a swell of emotion in your chest that was nearly impossible to stomp down.

He nodded. “I have an idea.”

Your curiosity definitely peaked as you followed Azriel into a massive underground library, where the priestesses took their refuge.

“If we have the answers, they'll be here,” Azriel said softly over his shoulder.

You hung back slightly as he spoke quietly with the priestess at the front desk. It warmed your heart to see his demeanor change in the library: his voice was remarkably soft, his body language made him look almost gentle, rather than the merciless shadowsinger.

The priestesses brought you a few books and the two of you got settled in comfy chairs, reading in comfortable silence.

A few hours later though, you weren’t any closer to finding answers, and you found yourself more and more frustrated.

You sighed, resting your head on the back of your chair, shifting your gaze over to Azriel, who looked very focused on what he was reading. He was distracted enough that you allowed yourself the time to study him a little longer than you would have otherwise. Your gaze caught on his biceps, on the veins on his forearms, his hands holding the book in his lap.

He looked up at you when your breath caught, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Let’s take a break,” you sighed, blinking away the hearts in your eyes. “We’re not getting anywhere, and I want to see more of Velaris before I figure out how to get home anyway.”

“You want company?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Of course I do.”

The streets weren’t as busy as they had been the previous day, and Azriel had more room for his wings, you noticed.

He turned to you as you watched him. “The wings can be tricky when it’s crowded,” he explained.

“Have you ever hit anybody accidentally?”

Red dusted his cheeks slightly and he looked away. “No comment.”

You threw your head back laughing, picturing the scene, and when you finally looked back at him, he was smiling at you in a way that made your heart race.

Azriel took you all over the city, but the artists’ quarter was what really took your breath away. You stopped at the edge of the Rainbow, taking in the scene before you, letting the beauty wash over you.

It was somewhat overwhelming as you walked through the quarter, Azriel’s shadow never far behind. Your attention was consistently being pulled from one side of the street to the other, and you heard Azriel laugh quietly behind you as you gasped and beelined to an artist weaving a gorgeous tapestry.

It was nearly two hours by the time the two of you made it out of the Rainbow, and your heart felt lighter than it had in months.

“That was amazing,” you beamed, and Azriel steered you away from a group of fae walking in the opposite direction with a hand on your waist. You hadn’t even noticed them in your excitement. “That was what I needed. That’s why I made the wish to the well in the first place.”

Azriel looked at you quizzically. “Things aren’t going well at home?”

You sighed. “It’s not that exactly. It’s just… exhausting. And life doesn’t look the way that I always thought that it would.”

He nodded, his shoulder bumping into yours momentarily as he worked to avoid running into some clearly inebriated fae. “I know the feeling.”

That shouldn’t have surprised you, you supposed, based on what you knew about him, but still. He seemed so in control all the time, it was difficult to believe that he had ever felt unsteady.

“Can we stop and get a drink?” you asked suddenly.

Azriel blinked in surprise, but agreed, leading you to a bar closeby.

You looked quizzically at the drink menu, unfamiliar with any of the offerings. “I don't know what any of this is,” you whispered to Azriel.

He laughed and ordered for you when the bartender came around.

As you looked around the bar, you subconsciously leaned into Azriel a bit, noticing that there were plenty of male fae eyes on you.

Azriel's hand found its way to your hip, pulling you in even closer to him. “It's okay, they won't bother you as long as I'm here,” he murmured against your ear.

His breath on your neck made you shiver, and you placed your hand over his arm where it rested on the bar. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

Your eyes met for a moment and you could have sworn that you saw some heat there, but then he blinked and it was gone as the bartender put your drinks in front of you.

Azriel watched you intently as you took a tentative sip of the mysterious cocktail, which immediately had you coughing and sputtering rather embarrassingly.

He laughed as he watched you, sliding the hand that rested on your waist up to your back. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing. “Did you purposely get me the worst thing on the menu?”

Azriel raised his eyebrows in amusement. “That's the most tame drink we have in Velaris.”

“It is not,” you countered. “I'm not exactly a lightweight, but this…” you scowled. “It tastes like lighter fluid.”

“I don't know what that is, but I promise that's the one that should be least likely to make you hurt in the morning.”

You sighed, and eventually worked up the nerve to take another sip. It was still awful, but since you were prepared for it, it went down a little easier.

“Nicely done,” Azriel said, and you could've sworn there was a hint of real pride in his voice.

The two of you talked nonsense as you got towards the bottom of your glass, his thumb tracing small circles on your back.

There must have been something serious in that drink, because by the time you had finished it, you were feeling pleasantly buzzed.

You smiled at Azriel and he grinned back at you, tightening his grip just slightly. “Feeling good?” He asked.

You nodded, letting out a mortifying giggle and laying your head on his shoulder.

He surprised you when he laid his head gently on top of yours. You had half expected him to pull away from you.

This was crazy. You were drinking and flirting with Azriel in Velaris. Why did you want to go home again?

Azriel shifted slightly next to you, and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head before cuddling into you again. It was so gentle, so unexpected, you suddenly wanted to cry.

“Why do you think I seemed familiar to you?” You asked quietly, trying to calm your racing heart.

“I don't know,” he said. “Maybe I could sense you when you were reading the book?”

“Hmmm. Maybe,” you said, unable to resist running your hand lightly over his arm.

“Or maybe you were meant to end up here,” he said even quieter, like he was unsure if he should be saying it at all.

You detangled yourself from his arms to look up at him. “You think so?”

He smiled a little sadly. “Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part.”

It felt like a jolt of electricity rocked your body. “Azriel,” you murmured.

He gazed at you for another moment before he slowly leaned forward, kissing your lips with such gentleness that you could hardly believe it.

You could hardly believe any of this.

After a moment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth to him and he instantly took advantage, slipping his tongue against yours with a quiet groan, his hands weaving into your hair.

“Az,” you moaned quietly, “we should go home.”

He grunted, fishing money out of his pocket and slamming it on the table without breaking the kiss.

He stood up then, his eyes locked on yours and your hand cradled in his, and within the blink of an eye, you were standing in his bedroom at the town house.

You blinked, looking up at him in surprise. “God, I wish we could do that at home.”

Azriel chuckled, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you again.

You ran your hand down his chest, heat spiking through you as you felt each toned muscle tighten and flex at your touch.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tangled up in each other, until you started tugging at his shirt, desperately trying to raise it above his head.

He stopped your hands with his, breaking the kiss to look at you, his expression suddenly serious, his eyes softening. “Are you sure you want to go further? You were drinking --”

“Azriel,” you said firmly, and he blinked in surprise. “You are my biggest fictional crush, the man of my wildest fantasies, except now you're not fictional, and we're in your bedroom and …” you trailed off, your breath escaping you as he smirked at you, his eyes shining with a bit of wonder and no small amount of smugness. “Just -- please take your shirt off.”

He laughed and the deep rumble of it went straight between your legs. He stepped back, out of your reach, his eyes not wavering from yours as he tugged his shirt up and over his head.

Silently, he looked at you expectantly, still just out of arm's reach.

You were pretty sure you were actually drooling. His muscles… you had never seen a man look like that in real life before. His enormous wings stretched out behind him, and you never thought you would be the type of person who was into that kind of thing, but with him standing there like that -- it just made him look all the more formidable, untouchable.

But for right now, somehow, he was all yours.

You gulped audibly and his smirk only grew. “And… your pants.”

Without breaking eye contact, he let his pants drop to the ground, and you felt the air completely leave your lungs.

Holy shit.

His eyes softened, “We don't have to--”

“Stop saying that,” you breathed, rushing forward to kiss him.

“This feels a little unfair,” he mumbled against your mouth, sliding his hand down your fully clothed side.

“Then fix it,” you replied, occupied with running your hands down his back, kissing anywhere on his chest that you could reach.

He wasted no time, stripping you bare in a matter of moments.

Slowly, like he was trying to memorize you, he traced the lines and curves of your body with his scarred hands, his eyes tracking their path.

You had never felt like this before, so wanted, so important, and it made your heart ache.

He kissed lightly up your neck while his hands continued their exploration of you, murmuring with a low gravelly tone as he reached your ear, “the man of your wildest fantasies?”

You flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “Is that what I said?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, his lips still against your ear, his thumb lightly circling your nipple.

“Well,” you tried to form a coherent response, but it was impossible when he was touching you like that. You leaned your head back, giving him access to lick across your collarbone, your back arching.

“What happens in these fantasies of yours?” He asked, sliding his hands down to grip your ass, then effortlessly lifting you up into his arms, bringing the two of you face to face as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Mmm… about like this,” you said breathlessly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Yeah? What else?” he murmured between kisses.

You groaned, burying your face in his neck.

He chuckled, squeezing your ass teasingly. “Oh, c’mon, don't get shy on me now.”

Your cheeks heated, even though he couldn't see it.

“Something like… this?” He asked, lining himself up so his tip was teasing your entrance.

You gasped, raising your head to gawk at him.

“What?” He laughed.

“You're not gonna fit,” you blurted dumbly, immediately clamping your mouth shut in regret.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Trust me, I'll fit. I'll go slow. Unless you want to stop--”

Azriel pulled his hips back, leaving you aching. “No,” you cried.

Slowly, he brought his hips back to yours, gently teasing your clit with his length, a contrast to the sweet kiss he placed on your forehead.

He backed you up against the wall, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly, slowly, pushed himself into you inch by inch, giving you time to adjust with sweet kisses until he was fully inside you.

He was heaven.

And you couldn't get enough.

Hours later, exhausted and content, you laid in Azriel's bed, your head on his chest, sleepily tracing the lines of his tattoos.

“Tell me about your world,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair.

You hummed, trying to think of something that might interest him. Finally you settled on trying to describe transportation. Cars and planes fascinated him, and you felt bad that you weren't equipped to answer all his questions about how those things actually worked.

You told him about your house, your job, your life. He asked endless questions, and it warmed your heart that he cared at all.

Eventually, Azriel either ran out of questions or noticed how tired you were, and he stroked your hair gently until you fell into blissful sleep.

In the morning, you woke before Azriel did, and you watched him sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly now and then as he dreamed.

God, he was a dream.

You had no idea how to get home. In this moment, you weren't even sure you wanted to.

For now, you had Azriel and his friends looking out for you in the beautiful city of Velaris.

And for now, that was enough.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria @marina468 @hanuh @owala678

[bamfkeeper]

Parents.

Kurt Wagner x F!reader

RQ: 'CAN WE PLS GET MORE DAD!KURT HC'S??? PLS I BEG' - @thel0v3hashira143

Warnings: Baby themes, mentions of breastfeeding and other recovery things from birth and pregnancy.

A/N: Pleaseee I love Kurt as a dad <3 Dad!Kurt has to have a goatee I don't make the rules 😩

Kurt loves being a dad. He's always wanted to be a father and he was so excited when you got pregnant and gave birth. He was so attentive to you, and during labor and the birthing process, he was there helping as much as possible.

When it was the first night home from the hospital, he made sure you got your baby inside safely and you got to bed right away. He didn't want you moving around too much. He had already prepped the bedroom, the bassinet was beside the bed for you to easily reach for your baby at night for feedings.

He had water, cream, medicine, everything you needed. He popped up at night when he felt you move, checking on you nearly every hour.

If you wanted to only breastfeed, he'd absolutely be okay with that, and he'd make sure you were alright doing so. He would help you pump and offer bottles if you needed, but he'd mostly try to respect your wants.

I don't think Kurt would care what gender the baby is. He'd love it no matter what. I always had a feeling that if he had a boy he'd name it Gabriel.

Names in general can be played with. You can imagine him going the religious route, or the German route, or if you have a name you like from your own culture, then you could choose that. Kurt is just happy you're having a baby, the name isn't something he's going to argue about with you.

Kurt is absolutely super protective over the baby and you, especially fresh from the hospital. He advocates your wishes to all your friends and family. No visitors, no pictures, no holding the newborn, etc. whatever rules you have.

You love watching him hold your baby, how he cradles them in his arms and hums so sweetly. He gently rubs his nose into the baby's tiny one, he's so gentle with them.

He kisses your baby's feet, listening to the sweet giggles because his beard tickles their toes. He loves to give them raspberries too.

He likes to sing German lullabies or songs to your baby. His singing voice is actually really good.

You thought Kurt was protective before, but once your baby moves around more often, he becomes even more so. Anyone says anything about your baby's appearance or yours after your pregnancy, he loses it. You didn't think that would get you going but...damn.

Your baby would be bilingual. They'd learn English and German growing up.

Walking is fun. With the tiny tail your baby has, balance is much easier, so your baby is walking long before normal babies walk.

As your baby grows, their little voice develops an accent in both languages, and you both adore it. Kurt is so proud of your little one, going on and on about how smart they are and how they get it from you.

Kurt loves dressing your baby too, he definitely puts them in little overalls or lederhosen.

Kurt plays with your little one all the time, especially at parks, he loves pushing them in the swing and sliding down the slide with them in his lap. He absolutely makes up extravagant make believe scenarios about sailing the seas on a big pirate ship, aka the couch.

Speaking of...pirate costumes for Halloween is a MUST.

Also let's not forget the spoiling your child will endure. Kurt gets them whatever they want. Stuffed animals, toys, clothes, sweets, within reason of course. But he can't resist.

Kurt loves to cook German dishes for you and your child, it makes him happy to do and it connects you and your child closer to his roots.

Bedtime stories are big for Kurt too. The showman he is, he tells the stories in different voices, he completely acts out the parts to make your child giggle and laugh. He tucks your little one in and gives them a kiss, a soft lullaby, then it's off to dreamland.

You adore seeing this side of Kurt, he's grown into a wonderful parent, even if he did have some worries before. He is absolutely perfect. A perfect father and a perfect husband.

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images: Immortal X-Men #7 (2022), Pinterest for others

[midnightbears]

[SEPARATE] may we have gyomei, rengoku, and uzui's cuddling head canons? (are they a small or big spoon? Are they clingy? Do they snore? Who falls asleep first? Etc)

✿ hold me forever. never let me go when i do!

#STARRING: himejima gyomei. rengoku kyojuro. uzui tengen + wives ft. fem!reader [separately!]

#TAGS: fluff. established relationship

#NOTES: thank you for requesting! this is so so cute, i hope you like it <3

the stone hashira . . . himejima gyomei!

sleeping in the same bed as this man right here is a heaven-sent gift IMO.

cuddle bug i fear. most of the time, he likes to be the big spoon, mainly because he enjoys holding you close to his chest, where he can hear and feel your heartbeats mingling together. however, he won't be opposed to you wanting him to be the small spoon. he'll probably just chuckle fondly, loving the feeling of your smaller arms trying their absolute best to wrap around his midsection.

i feel like he doesn't move at all during nighttime. he's as still as a corpse sometimes lol. i don't think he snores either, most of the time you'll just accidentally overhear him mutter "namu..." under his breath. however, if he so much as feels your warmth leaving him for a fraction of a second, he's awake and sensing around for you, dragging you back to his chest after you accidentally pushed him away in your sleep.

he always falls asleep after you. it's a small habit he picked up, only allowing himself to fully relax after you are in the land of dreams. he takes these small intervals of time between your sleep and his own to voice small prayers, his broad hands caressing your back and the top of your head lovingly.

if you happen to get out of bed in the middle of the night to get a glass of water or to use the restroom, make sure to hope fervently that gyomei won't wake up. unless he's aware of why you left the bed (eg: sleepy murmur of 'hunnyboo i need to use the toilet I'll be right back'), he'll start imagining the worst possible reasons for your absence.

imagine him feeling around for you. he finds your side of the bed empty and suddenly shoots up from bed, his blank gaze wide with apprehension, cold sweat staining his temples. where are you? he'll call out your name into the night with his entire body rigid and his voice is quavering and he scrambles to pick himself up from the bed and you don't know how much he's desperately hoping that you are okay, that you are okay, that you are okay, that you—

your soft footsteps litter the room again, a steaming cup of tea in your hands. you call out to him, your hand reaching for his, all is well.

the flame hashira . . . rengoku kyojuro!

this man literally does not care for your personal space.

he will cling to you like a koala, legs wrapped around yours and arms holding you close to his chest, nuzzling into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, a soft "mmhhh..." leaving his lips when your perfume reaches his nostrils.

the problem with kyojuro is that sleeping with him during winter is wonderful because the man is a literal furnace. most of the time, he will sleep shirtless, allowing you to cling to him if you're cold, his rough hands traveling up and down your back soothingly to keep you happy and warm. summer, however, it's a completely different story.

you feel bad for kicking him away when he tries to hug you, but your mood is incorrigible when you are a bit too overwhelmed with the heat, and you don't want to lash out at him more than you already do when he attempts to bring you to his chest or spoon you from behind. you'll literally roll away from him or go sit outside to get fresh air, and he feels so BAAADDDD because omg he just wants to cuddle you and show you affection you're his amazing beautiful wife :(

normally, you both go to sleep around the same time after a few minutes of cuddling, but whenever this man manages to convince you to let him lay on your tatas and scratch his head, he is gone within minutes.

does not mind being big or small spoon, he enjoys both. but if he had to choose, he normally prefers to be the bigger spoon, mainly because he gets a kick out of feeling like he's protecting you and you're just so cuteeeee he loves you soooo mucchhhhh look at you omg.

he snores a bit, but you've gotten so used to it that, at this point, it's just ambient noise for you to fall asleep to lmao. you once caught him scaring himself awake with a particularly loud snore, it caught you so off-guard but it was the funniest shit you've ever seen and now you're waiting for the next time it happens.

even in his sleep, kyo's protective instincts are on full display. he'll pull you closer if you move too far away, his arms tightening around you subconsciously. if you have a nightmare, it’s like he senses it, even in the deepest sleep. you’ve woken up more than once to his sleepy voice whispering reassurances and his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back until you fall back asleep.

overall really sweet, but a pain during summer <3

the sound hashira . . . uzui tengen + wives!

now, tengen is the god of cuddling, and he's got plenty of practice with his four beautiful wives. he makes sure everyone gets their fair share of his affection, rotating between snuggling with each one of you throughout the night.

you guys could go to sleep in an established order but that completely changes overnight. one minute he’s spooning makio, his arm draped over her waist, the next he’s got you nestled against his chest, suma snuggled up behind you, and hina’s head resting on his shoulder. sometimes he wakes up alone on the other side of the bed and sees you all snuggling together and goes >:(

similarly, it's not unusual for the whole group to end up in a tangled pile of limbs by morning. tengen's long arms and legs make it easy for him to reach everyone, pulling you all into one big, cozy embrace <3

much like rengoku, he's an absolute furnace, which is a blessing and a curse, depending on the season. in winter, you and his wives love curling up against him to steal his warmth, but in summer, you often find yourselves pushing him away, only to be pulled back in when he sleepily grumbles about missing your touch.

tengen’s snoring is legendary. most of the time, it's tolerable, but some nights, you've nudged awake one of your co-wives because you don't want to sleep alone just so you can go to one of the separate rooms and cuddle there instead and the poor man is sooo hurt by it during the morninggg poor guy poor guy awe

believe it or not, tengen is the last to go to sleep but not for the reason you think. his skincare routine is longer than yours and your co-wives combined lmaooo, so while he keeps putting shit in his face and hair, you and the girls start to arrange the bedding however you like and get comfortable.

suma always needs to be close to someone, so she normally snuggles up to you first, whereas hinatsuru doesn't like to be in the middle of the pile so she'll mostly cuddle whoever remains in the outer circle. makio, while she may never admit it, loves being swaddled, so she nestles between you and hina.

he enters the room to find you all sleeping without him, but he smiles softly and simply joins you, pulling all four of you close <3

© midnightbears on tumblr, july 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

[ateliersss]

Part 4 - He Shall Prevail

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 5,497 Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Masterlist

⇨ Hey, guys! I‘m back to writing. 6 months and 16 exams later, I finally found time to continue my now called “Blooming Family” series. You have no idea how much I missed it.

⇨ Though I have to say, this will probably be the end of this series. Probably. I got rid of every idea about our little family in those four parts and I don’t believe I can offer much more dramatic and exciting plot.

⇨ BUT! I already announced a Prequel on how Mi'ytiar and the Reader meet. I’m still working on it and the process is going smoothly for now. This means, this is definitely not the end of our story, so stay tuned!

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

 

The metallic smell of human blood that usually made him wallow in delight, now made him feel sick. The feeling of human blood on his skin which usually sent a rush of excitement down his spine, now made him want to cut off any part of his body that made contact with it. The sight of him tearing a human apart — hurting it, killing it — that usually sated his predatory nature, now made him want to gouge his eyes out.

Blood flowed as he cut you, his beloved one, open under Cahrein’s watchful eyes. The red fluid coated first his claws and fingertips, then his fingers completely, and before he knew it his whole hand when he started to reach into you.

Your small, beautiful body, which he had worshipped more times than he could count, had long grown numb, unmoving, lifeless. Your big, gorgeous eyes that had held so much love for him were closed, sparing him to witness the moment should the spark within them extinguish.

He wouldn’t let that happen, he was sure of it. He just needed time to close the long, precise cut and get the blood that was stashed somewhere here on the ship. He knew how to stitch you together, God knows how many times he had to do it when you were on your hunting trips together, though it was never this kind of wound.

But Mi'ytiar, your oh so loving and attentive mate, had done something quite unusual for his species.

With no profound knowledge of births, let alone human births, he witnessed the act of giving life for the very first time when you had been pregnant with Akail. Even without any previous experience, he just knew that Yautja births were quite different from human ones. Their Females wouldn’t have suffered that much from pain during labor and because of that, his already devoting stance towards you seemed to reach new heights when you fought like a warrior on your very own battlefield. He was impressed just as he was scared.

So, when Cahrein had confirmed your suspicions on being pregnant again, Mi'ytiar did what every father on earth would and should do when a baby was on its way: he prepared himself. Mostly Cahrein showed and taught him the necessities who had studied the human anatomy when you arrived on Yautja Prime for the first time — leader's orders. And because there had never been a human in their clan or anywhere near it, he had to travel some time to the nearest one whose location he knew.

That’s how Cahrein learned and that’s how he was able to brief his clan leader.

You didn’t know, but if you did, you once again would not fathom how lucky you were, because how many Yautja out there with a human by their side for whatever purpose would put that much effort into them? Would any of them sit down and listen to their healer drone about the function of the ovaries? Would any of them waste their time, instead of just finding a replacement? Would they be here when the chance of saving you was like catching mist with bare hands?

Mi'ytiar did, a leader nonetheless.

And when he felt it wasn’t enough, he did his very own research on earth. Stalking through hospitals, invisible of course, thanks to the Cloak camouflaging his massive form and hiding him from the human eye, he was taking everything in. He observed the humans dressed in white and dark blue clothes scurry around before he decided to follow one around.

At nighttime, it was much easier when the staff thinned out. This way he had a better chance to explore the hospital and find his way to the infant ward, discovering it by chance. Fourteen see-through cribs were standing in two rows inside the ward. Fourteen tiny human babies were lying inside, sound asleep.

So that’s what they looked like.

For a moment he thought about being human himself. Not for his own appearance, but for the possibility of having a pup who looked more like you, his love. You were such a beautiful creature, but sadly your genes were practically drowned out by his.

At daytime, he was lucky to watch five women deliver their babies. Four of them did it the natural way while the fifth woman decided willing to do a c-section. Obviously unaware of what would happen in a few years, he gained very useful knowledge that day.

That’s how Mi'ytiar learned and that’s how he located the pup in your womb so fast and pulled it out.

He tried not to let himself get lost in the sight of the newborn, squirming and screeching. As much as he wanted to admire the little boy, another paragon created by you, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

He gingerly placed the flailing pup down on the cold glass surface of the table and against your body, snuggled between your motionless arm and your side. With the greatest care, he angled his son’s head to rest against your shoulder and moved your arm so it would keep him in place.

Mi'ytiar wasted no time in turning the Medicomp upside down and finding the needed surgical tools much faster that way. Thankfully he hadn’t discovered anything wrong once the pup was free, no suspicious rupture or tear that needed stitching. He was deaf to Cahrein’s words as he fixed the cut with wound clamps and started to mix a gel that was able to close a wound of any kind, size or depth.

When he was sure the gel was painstakingly spread on the already healing cut, he grabbed the syringe with the purple-ish fluid and inserted its needle in the crook of your unoccupied arm. There was a 50-50 chance that it would work on you. Sxánxik would close all internal damage and increase blood cell production in case of severe blood loss, though he didn’t know if it would work on human blood. But there was still a chance since your DNA had evolved through years of infusions of Yautja blood.

“You should get her blood.” Cahrein’s voice finally found its way into his consciousness.

“Can’t leave.” Mi'ytiar growled, his eyes focused on the shallow movement of your chest, scared it would stop the second they would stray from you.

“You need to. There is no guarantee sxánxik works.” Cahrein pressed, growing restless at his leader’s tunnel vision.

He knew he didn't know what was going through Mi'ytiar’s mind, and if he said he knew how he was feeling at that moment, he would be lying. It was obvious to anyone that ever laid eyes on the Life-mated pair that there was a unique and special bond between the two. Yautja were caring despite common belief, but even the most affectionate and compassionate of their species would never come close to the emotions your human heart held for your Yautja. Adding the influence you had on Mi'ytiar, it seemed to be fated.

Soulmates, Cahrein believed you had called the both of you when you told him about certain fairytales your mother had read to you when you were a child. Though you had said it in a joking way, telling him it was something hopeless romantics believed in, he could see it in your eyes that there was some kind of hope there.

“Sometimes two people are destined for each other.”

Your human nonsense would always make him scoff in amusement, until there was living and breathing proof of you being meant for his leader. Two proofs now, to be exact. When you were able to give Mi'ytiar his long-denied offspring where their Females had failed, Cahrein started to be less derogatory about superstitions on earth.

“Fine.” Mi'ytiar snarled, hitting the glass surface of the holo-map table on each side of your thighs with closed fists, only hearing a splintering sound as he pushed himself away.

When he returned, the overwhelming sight of your body made him freeze in the doorway when the automatic doors opened. He tried to not tighten his grip around the blood bag in his hand, tried not to let his claws pierce holes into it and spill the red liquid.

You were lying there, paler than you had been moments ago. Where he had positioned your arm so your pup was safely tucked at your side, the other one was lying along the length of your body. Just as your spread legs were dangling down the table, your hand was loosely hanging down where it had previously been grasping the edge in pain.

“Mi'ytiar.”

Cahrein’s voice was once again pulling him out of his own head before he could drown in dark thoughts.

“I prepare your home for your return.” The healer told him when Mi'ytiar covered your naked lower body with one of your blankets that you always kept on the ship.

When Cahrein received no response from his leader, who was too busy getting the blood into your veins before filling syringes with his own to inject it into you, he made the usual farewell gesture and his holo-image dissolved.

As soon as Mi'ytiar could assess you as stable, he took his newborn — he was so tiny, Mi'ytiar was able to hold him with one hand as he fit so easily in his entire palm — and placed him in the crook of his arm, the upper body of his son pressed against his bicep. The typical instinct of a Yautja pup to hold on made his son immediately cling to him.

With a heavy heart at leaving you alone once again, he went through the ship to take the pup to its sleeping place in the sleeping quarters. Digging out more of the cushions and covers you had stashed away, he created a makeshift crib so his son wouldn’t move in a fatal position or roll out of the pod by accident. When he was sure he could leave him alone for a moment, he put the pup down and returned to you.

You were still in the same unconscious state he had left you. With a pained, sorrowful purr he lifted you up and into his arms, the almost empty blood bag held up by his hand. The sight of you like this was hurting him more than any wound he ever got from an enemy.

Back in the sleeping quarters, Mi'ytiar put you down in the pod where the two of you would usually rest. And where the little one was probably conceived, he thought with his eyes looking over at the pup.

Since the ship was not equipped with the necessary medical supplies and equipment, he had to make do with what was available to him. All he could do now was let you sleep and heal. Should the sxánxik not do its job, his blood would do.

To distract himself — because looking down at the device around his left arm, the journey back home would take another hour — he picked his newborn pup up and started to rock him softly. He remembered your reaction when you had seen him do it for the first time with Akail, scolding him for hurling the pup around. Your words.

Trying to not let his amusement show too much on his face, he had explained to you that Yautja babies, even when they were mere minutes old, were quite sturdy. They could endure more than you would think and you had learned that in the following five years. To put it simple, Akail had been a menace when he wasn’t a complete mama’s boy. He had wanted to explore; first your home, then the clan grounds, and then the whole planet.

Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle-like rumble at the memory of an eager Akail running around, dodging his mother’s arms that tried to keep him inside your home and from running around in the village. He had watched you both with mirth in his eyes, but regretted it the second a grumbling laugh left his mouth. If it had been possible, he would have dropped dead when you glared at him with a very nasty look. Wincing inwardly, he pulled his figurative tail between his legs and came to your aid, grabbing Akail by the nape and lifting him up. Then you had looked at your son with a I’m-very-disappointed-in-you expression on your face and this time it was the pup that winced (Mi'ytiar almost too, if he was being honest).

Like father, like son.

This one will be just as in love with his mother as his father and older brother were, he was sure of it.

Warm, soft and bright.

Those were the things you noticed first even with your eyes closed.

The next thing your brain registered was that you could move every part of your body, although a little sluggish, when you wiggled your toes, and clenched and unclenched your hands. You were relieved that whatever happened to you hadn’t paralyzed you.

Blinking, you opened your eyes and with a blurry vision, the very first thing you saw was a familiar, but somehow unfamiliar metal pole that looked like an IV stand.

But that couldn’t be. You should be the only human thing on Yautja Prime, so why…

“You awake.”

You slowly turned your head in the direction of the voice. You could only make out a dark, tall figure standing in the doorway, though not tall enough to be your mate.

“Cahrein?” You murmured.

“Mhm.”

Said Yaujta entered the room to inspect the stand, tapping the bag with a clear substance inside. He traced the tube attached to it with a sharp claw to the point where it was connected to the needle in your arm. 

“Fascinating I must say.”

“What is this? Why is it here?” You asked and tried to get up, hoping the fatigue would wear off faster in an upright position.

With a deep rumble and a clicking of his mandibles, Cahrein gently pushed you back down. “The great Mi’ytiar always made sure you had everything you need should medical emergency arise.”

“He did?”

Cahrein nodded with his head. “He traveled to ooman world to get whatever you need every time oomans developed their creations.”

You looked at the healer who now inspected the red bag filled with your blood.

When you started to be more involved in the life of the Yautja, the possibility of getting hurt grew. It wasn’t likely as your mate never let you do anything that could cause even a bruise. Well except, of course, mating with him. 

When your already drawn blood expired, you would go to Cahrein so he could take new one for emergencies while you sat in Mi'ytiar’s lap, his purring and his hands caressing you calming you down. Despite being a former nurse you hated needles.

“How...” You coughed, your voice hoarse from not being used. “How long was I… asleep?”

“Six days.”

“That long?” You whispered to yourself in disbelief.

You settled back into the soft cushions of your nest, watching the healer adjust the blood bag as if there was the perfect angle for it to hang. Ever the perfectionist. 

You carefully lifted the arm with the needle inside while you grabbed a black woolen blanket to pull it over your body, somehow feeling cold despite the fire burning. 

Doing so, you dragged your heavy-feeling arm over your stomach.

Your flat stomach.

You jumped up from your lying position, ignoring the stabbing headache. 

Cahrein turned around, only needing to take one big step to be by your side, and was ready to scold you for going against your doctor’s orders, but his words were dying on his tongue when you ripped the piece of clothing you were wearing open. Immediately he averted his eyes and turned his back to you. 

You may be his patient right now, but he had no death wish. Sure, he had seen parts of you in his role as the healer, but only with permission and in attendance of your mate. And said mate definitely didn’t need to be in the room to witness his human being exposed in front of someone who wasn’t him to install that deep-rooting respect (and maybe even slight fear) in Cahrein. 

You were oblivious to the internal battle of Cahrein who was fighting against the urge to make sure you weren’t overexerting yourself and the fact that he couldn’t do so without having to look at you. Instead, you were frantically tracing the faint scar across your stomach with shaky hands.

Baby…

Where was your baby?

Where was it?!

The maternal instincts were almost animalistic as they made you heave, your lungs starting to struggle to take in air.

It had been here, inside your belly, carried under your heart…

Why wasn’t it here?

It should be… it should be…

Cahrein was really tempted to turn around when he listened to your breath getting more and more irritated and uneven. When he heard suspicious rustling, he spun around and grabbed the nearest cover to put it on you — the blanket you had wanted to snuggle into. 

“Calm, (Y/N), calm.” He purred as he pushed you back onto the nest when you tried to crawl out of it. 

“My pup, my pup. Where is my pup?” You squeaked.

You were digging your nails into his skin, scratching it without leaving much damage. You weren't really a challenge to him. You were still weak from the blood loss and the week of bed rest. Had it been a female Yautja, Cahrein would have probably been dead by now. They were just as territorial and protective of their pups as you were right now.

“He is fine. He is with his father.” He soothed you and tried to push you onto your back and into the nest. "I will call for him."

Still shaking, you ceased your resistance a little, allowing Cahrein to let go of you. Despite everything screaming inside of you to fight your way to your pup, your body in its state wouldn't even make it out of the room. So you settled down but kept your nerves on edge.

You were taking deep breaths in and out as you strained every muscle to prop yourself up into a sitting position, your legs tangled and angled to the side.

Tugging on the soft fabric of the blanket draped over you, you looked around the room. It was just like you remembered — all four walls made of smooth obsidian-like stone, the large window from the floor up to the ceiling behind your nest giving you the perfect view of the jungle-like valley beneath you by the cliff where the village was located on, the build-in shelves that mostly displayed your mate's most valued trophies, but also some of your possessions from your old home on earth like your books and your favorite pot plant, the futuristic wardrobe Mi'ytiar had made for you when he kept gifting you fabrics, feathers, fur, leather and such so you could make yourself clothes with the help of the Females.

It was home.

As your eyes swept over the room from left to right, they stopped when they spotted the small, wooden crib next to the nest. It had been Akail‘s when he was a newborn pup. It was lovingly and thoughtfully crafted by Mi’ytiar, while you had carved accents, patterns, and little figures into it.

Sure, Yautja Females had their own, traditional way of taking care of their pups, but you were human and your baby was partly human, so you wanted at least a little human influence in raising it. It‘s the only way you knew and were able to do it. Mi’tyiar let you take the reins since he had no prior knowledge himself. He was a first-time father and would just follow your instructions when you needed assistance. 

That led to you unknowingly breaking a custom. Usually, at this age, the Female was raising the pup alone. The Male was barely involved during that time and would only take over when it was time for the pup to train as a Youngblood. 

Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, the ever-loving father, was there by your side for every of Akail’s wobbly steps, incoherent mumble and mandible click. If he was human, you fondly mused, he would be that kind of a parent who would take photos and videos of even the most random event and unnecessary thing their baby did.

He was such a fierce and strong leader, callous and ruthless when the situation required it, a brutish savage if he was challenged, but when it came to his little family he was so soft and gentle like any human father or husband.

While you were spacing out, resisting the urge to reach over to the crib and check if the bedding was still warm, signs of a little life sleeping in it, you didn’t notice the newcomers in your room.

“Yawne...” A voice sounded far away before you started blinking, refocusing yourself.

Your eyes snapped to the now much larger form standing in the entrance of the room holding a small, wiggling bundle in his arms, cradling it to his chest. His yellow eyes were solely on you, looking at you in disbelief as if he thought they were deceiving him. 

Mi'ytiar pushed the bundle in his arms into those of Cahrein, who you barely registered walking in behind your mate, and made his way over to you in a few quick strides. Your eyes were fixed onto the thing your whole being was screaming for the most, but when Mi'ytiar cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, your whole attention was on him — your mate, the love of your life, your sun and your moon.

“Tahní.” You breathed and put your hands on his, craving his warm skin closer to you.

He moved forward and gently put his forehead to yours, purring loudly into the otherwise silent room. 

“I thought I lose you. I thought you die. Again.” He grumbled, his eyes closed.

You lifted your head and placed a few kisses on the skin of his forehead. 

“I‘m a fighter. I thought you knew that by now.” You chuckled, your voice hoarse.

Mi'ytiar grumbled again, not appreciating you making jokes when you had been on the brink of life and death.

“What happened?” You asked and pulled away to finally look at him. 

Mi'ytiar — and you really had no nicer word to describe it — looked horrible. If Yautja were able to develop bags under their eyes, he definitely would have some. He looked beyond tired. There was a devastated, but also relieved look in his eyes, you had no problem deciphering the reason behind it. 

“I only remember how my water broke… how you carried me back to the ship… and the call with Cahrein.” You mumbled as you tried to recall any memory you had stored in the back of your mind.

It was all blurry and tangled and you had no idea what happened when. The only thing you remembered with conviction was the pain. When the contractions started in that forest, it was far more manageable than the pain at Akail‘s birth. But when the labor was taking longer than it was normal, it got almost unbearable.

“What happened? How did he…” You trailed off as you glanced past Mi'ytiar and to Cahrein who was rocking the whiny bundle in his arm to calm it down.

“Mi'ytiar, please.” You begged as you looked back at him, pleading with your eyes. “Please give him to me. I need to… I need to…”

The distress your body was emitting almost made him shrink away. 

“Cahrein.” Mi'ytiar grunted and reached out.

Cahrein, who was struggling a little with the fussing pup in his care, careful not to accidentally drop it, made his way over to his leader. He would be lying if said he didn’t feel at least some relief when the restless pup left his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was sending you further down a spiral of frantic worry about your baby. He had seen enough Females going rogue for lesser reasons and experience showed to never stand between a mother and their pup. It was the last mistake you would make.

Mi'ytiar purred softly at the bundle before he turned back to you and offered it for you to take it. You eagerly engulfed it in your arms and the second you had a hold on it, the fussing pup settled down.

“Leave.” Mi'ytiar ordered gruffly when you started to push down the only cover your body had, not taking his eyes off his son and his mate.

Cahrein bowed his head and quickly took his leave. He would talk about anything medical and the further necessary bed rest another time.

You didn’t notice him leaving, too busy freeing your newborn son of the baby blanket that was practically drowning him.

You had knitted it when you were six months pregnant with Akail. He had been obsessed with it as long as he was a tiny pup.

Back when you were a nurse, some mothers had excitedly told you about all the preparations they had done before the baby was due. One of them had brought wool, knitting needles, and a half-finished blanket to her appointments. She had explained to you how she learned knitting only for her baby, so she could make all this stuff for it.

It was a sweet memory.

Mi'ytiar, of course, went on a trip back to earth and got you anything and everything you wanted and needed, even more than you originally needed in hopes his offerings would please you. And you hadn’t even needed to use much persuasion. Looking up at him with those big eyes of yours while rubbing the prominent baby bump was enough to prepare a ship and fly to your home planet the next day.

Sweet, sweet memories.

You were humming as Mi'ytiar crawled on the nest behind you, setting the blanket you had shrugged off to the side, and pulled you on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and watched over your shoulder as you cradled your pup against your bare chest. You sighed in contentment when you could feel your son’s skin against your own, like it’s the final thing you needed to reassure you that you were actually here, that he was real.

Without the baby blanket covering him, you finally got a good look at your son. And god, you didn’t know you could fall in love a third time in your life.

He was perfect.

Unlike his big brother, he was the carbon copy of his father. While Akail did look like his father, having the same color scheme as him, the patterns were of opposite colors. His younger brother, on the other hand, didn’t only have the same color pallet as his father, but the patterns of his skin were colored just the same as Mi'ytiar‘s. Otherwise, he didn’t look much different from Akail when he had been a newborn — the same numbs on his head where his dreads would grow, the same thin and undeveloped mandibles around his mouth, the same arms and legs.

He was about the size of a human baby. It was incredible to think how big in size and height he would grow in the coming years.

You inspected every aspect of his tiny body, your fingers gliding over his torso and limbs, admiring every centimeter of him.

“You were right.” Mi'ytiar suddenly said. “He was in abnormal position. He was stuck.”

You stilled for a moment before you continued to coo at your baby.

“You begged me to get him out and I did. I cut in you and you…” He trailed off and grunted at his wavering voice. “You stopped moving when I pulled pup out. You were gone.”

“No.” You interrupted him and turned your upper body to look at him. “If I was gone, I wouldn’t be here with you. With him.” You moved your arms with your turned torso, so his son was back in his sight. “I wouldn’t be here to tell you how happy I am, to tell you how glad I am that you handled it so well. You saved his life. And mine too.”

You shifted your pup into one arm to reach up and place your hand on his cheek. You didn’t even need to pull him in for him to move closer and put his forehead once again against yours, closing your eyes. Since his anatomy made it impossible to actually kiss him, you decided that forehead-against-forehead was an acceptable compensation. Although it wasn’t anything special, it felt so intimate with him that you didn’t really miss the ability to kiss your partner.

“I’m here. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere, Mi'ytiar.” You told him softly, rubbing your skin against his like a cat. “Thanks to you I’m able to continue to breathe, to walk and talk. Thanks to you I’m able to continue to love you and live my life with you, my strong and handsome mate, and our pups.”

You had so many other things to say to him, but you started to choke on your words. Tears were dripping down your cheeks.

You opened your eyes when you felt something rough rub the skin under them and saw him wiping away the tears with his thumb. His other hand came up and its thumb did the same with the tears coming from your other eye. Mi'ytiar looked fondly down at you, his head cocked to the side.

“Thank you so much.” You mumbled, your voice a little shaky, and buried your face into his chest.

Mi'ytiar clicked his mandibles softly and carefully pulled you closer, making sure to not crush the pup between your bodies.

“Anything for you.” He purred.

He felt the wetness dripping from your eyes to your cheeks and down on his chest ease after a while. And when you lifted your head to look up at him, you gave him one of those dazzling, soft smiles he loved so much.

Mi'ytiar wanted to reach out again, wanted to pull you closer and snuggle his face into the crook of your neck to smell your sweet, familiar scent he missed so much. But sadly a certain someone demanded your attention more loudly.

The pup in your arms started to fuss again, causing you to use both arms again to hold him tight against you. Shushing him, you nestled him in the crook of your neck and stroked his back.

Mi'ytiar let out a displeased grunt before he could stop himself, glaring at his son being in a place where he wanted to be just a moment ago.

You, of course, didn’t miss your mate fixing the pup with a dismayed look and you immediately knew why. This wasn’t your first baby after all.

“Mi'ytiar, don’t tell me you’re jealous again.” You grinned up at him, not even trying to hide your amusement.

“‘M not.” He grunted.

“You are.”

“Not.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, unconvinced, raising an eyebrow. “Just as you were not jealous when Akail was occupying my boobs as a pillow for a year? Or when I tried breastfeeding with him? Or when he challenged you every time you came near me even though he just had learned to walk? Or when he-”

To silence you, he bit down into your throat and you immediately went slack. It was a somewhat trained reaction every time he would do that. Where a human would shut you up with a kiss, your mate bit you. A show of dominance, without a question, and you would lie if you said it didn’t turn you on. The moan that would have proofed it had almost slipped from your lips.

“Not jealous.” Mi'ytiar insisted gruffly and licked over the bite mark.

“Fine, fine.” You mumbled, still a little dazed from his little display of power.

The two of you stayed silent for a while. The only sound was the occasional chittering and cooing of your son, who was looking up at his parents with his big, pale yellow eyes. They would grow more intense in color in no time.

“Did you already name him?” You asked and giggled when your pup tried to snatch up your finger with which you were drawing patterns in the air, moving it around in front of his face.

You watched as your pup finally caught your pointer finger and inserted it into his mouth. You laughed when you felt his gums chew on it. His teeth would develop only in a few weeks.

“The name you chose.” Mi'ytiar grunted softly.

You hummed in understanding and snuggled your face into the side of your son‘s head.

“Hi, Toyah.”

Tag List

⇨ Hey guys, despite having only some requests to be tagged in this part, I wanted to tag any and everyone who ever left a comment on one or more parts of this series. I'm seriously so thankful, you have no idea. Thank you so much for showing interest and voicing it. Thank you so much for your kind words that kept me motivated to continue this story. But, as I said at the beginning, this is not the end of Mi'ytiar, so lets hope we see each other on more of my works in the future!

@lil-lilacwitch, @zaky-ller, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan, @haleypearce @montybooks,

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