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spacemagictea · 6 months ago

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Drifter Character Sheet

edit: fixed face screenshots cuz turns out I had the wrong aspect ratio the entire bloody time

Birth Name: Kaylessa

Titles: Drifter, Time Freak (‘title’ she gives herself)

Nicknames: Kay, Kayle, Marty, whatever Amir comes up with

Sex/Gender: Female

Birth World: Venus

Home World: Earth

Current Residence: Höllvania

Birthday: 30th June, year ???

Height: 170cm

Weight: middle, she’s got decent muscle

Eye Shape and Color: idk eye shapes well, visual reference above. Color emerald green

Skin Texture and Color: freckled, white, pale-skinned. Her body is littered with scars - arrows, cuts, claws, some burns, most notable however are a prominent scar in the middle of her chest from the usual method of execution by impalement she suffered in Duviri and tendrils of void scarring on her left hand and forearm caused by the severed hand of Lotus merging with her hand in Duviri.

Hair Style and Color: straight hair, usually shoulder length, kept in check with a bandana or tied in a ponytail if she lets it grow longer, crimson red color

Style/Fashion:

casual wear: somewhat loose, comfy clothing. She loves turtlenecks and flannel. Often found wearing sunglasses and headphones plus a backpack. Pink, purple and black/grey.

battle fit: Armor that resembles Dax armor but with a closed mask with a plume at the top, black base with silver and golden parts and red cloth accents.

Age: Visually 30ish, actual age ??? (she was 13 when the Zariman Incident happened)

Personality Traits: Gentle, kind, honest, reckless, awkward, open-minded, curious, patient, protective

Likes: tea, plants, animals, floofs, books, music, good stories, tinkering with tech, AMIR.

Dislikes: pollution, Indifference, pointless cruelty, ALBRECHT ENTRATI.

Pet Peeves: hard to find whole leaf tea in Höllvania and these teabags SUCK

Habits: always keeps a tea set in places where she spends a lot of time, often fidgets with the bouncy glaives she can summon through her amp, likes to stay up late

Morals: never refuses to help others, tries to approach everyone with kindness, willing to avoid fighting if it’s not necessary, avoids dishonorable combat. She is vengeful, especially against people who hurt the innocent or things/people she cares about.

Phobias: seeing people she cares about die, having to go back to the future with no way to bring the Hex with her

Pros: good listener, will comfort you, bring you tea or any preferred beverage and tell you a story. Considers protecting others her duty. She’ll not disturb you if she doesn’t have to and you can basically chill alongside her doing your own thing.

Cons: often disregards her own well-being and/or safety. Tends to put others before her too much. A bit… touchy. She was very touch starved so if you don’t like hugs or touch, warn her beforehand because she likes to give hugs.

Personal Glories: getting Amir to date her lol

Personal Trauma: had to kill her older sister when she turned mad because of MITW and as a result she always feels like she failed her in some way. Major survivor’s guilt.

Powers: time looping, Tenno Void powers - while she can perform anything her operator self can do, she has less control over these powers, for example, her void mode/cloak doesn’t always fully protect her or turn her invisible.

Abilities: melee combat, Kaithe riding, pistol/amp shooting. More recent abilities come from the Void powers obtained when she met with her alternate self and became empowered when they chose to have the Drifter be the more active person for the time being. Due to not being used to them yet, she might at times forget that she’s got some of these tools available - mostly concerning focus school abilities. Current main extent includes Void mode/cloak, Void sling, Transference and abilities of the Vazarin/Unairu schools of focus. Still working on the other schools and mastering what she’s currently got. Occasional void mode issues have her try to figure out if she can potentially do the partial void mode on purpose and for example only use the damage protection mode, without the invisibility.

Weapons: Sirocco, a pistol she uses in Duviri, Edun, melee spear she uses in Duviri (I know DE doesn’t let us but she also uses it outside Duviri) and an amp called Flying Blaze, which can project damaging Void energy as either homing, bouncing glaives or a pistol-like blast. When using Warframes, she’s got a variety of weapons to choose from.

Combat Affinity: Flexibility is key. Whether fighting as herself or using a Warframe, she adjusts to the role that is most necessary and controls the battlefield that way. She can switch from attacker to defender and vice versa quickly.

Warframes of choice: Protea Prime, Hildryn Prime, Nova Prime

Social Skills: She’s friendly and open but awkward. Years of isolation make her a bit hesitant at times but if approached, she won’t refuse interaction.

~Relationships~

Lover: Amir. The spark between the two ignited quickly, the common ground helping them develop a friendship that eventually bloomed into much more than that - a true love. They are truly open and vulnerable with each other like with nobody else, sharing their experiences, their nightmares, their joys and their sadness to the full extent. She loves him for all of him. And the most precious thing to her is how he sees beyond her powers and her heroics and sees her as a person. To many, she’s an admirable hero and/or a powerful asset. To Amir, she’s just Kaylessa.

Family:

Deceased parents, she forgot their names at this point but she remembers they were kind and loving. They were scholars.

Deceased older sister, Aurelia, who aspired to be an Archimedean and was a great inspiration to young Kay.

The Hex are kind of a found family to her. They’re both best friends and siblings to her (aside from Amir being her lover)

Friends:

Aoi: They enjoy sharing music sessions with fun beverages together. Aoi greatly encouraged Kay to take the step to confess her feelings to Amir and taught her where the most fun date spots are.

Eleanor: They share legends and stories with each other and hold challenging discussions. Eleanor teaches Kay about languages and the state of the world in 1999. She also helped her name her feelings towards Amir and encouraged to take the step further.

Lettie: finding a lot of similarities to her older sister, Kay holds the softest spot for Lettie. She loves to help her with medical duties and making sure that Lettie can earn a moment of respite. And Lettie helps keep Kay grounded.

Arthur: a relationship of great respect and true friendship, Kay helped Arthur open up and evolve as a leader. They also practice cooking together. He made Kaylessa, who used to be a lone wolf, consider how she works with a team more.

Quincy: while she does consider Quincy an asshole at times and still has a slight grudge about his early treatment of Amir, the fact that in the end he tries to do the right thing has her consider him a positive relationship. She finds how he takes care of the kids in Höllvania to be the most noble thing. She helps him find educational resources.

Others:

While she has close relationships to the folks of the present time, she still considers herself quite… separated from them, especially now that she developed deep relationships with the Hex.

The Lotus (Natah): a mother figure to the Operator, Kaylessa’s title of Champion makes her feel a bit weird but working under her guidance has been a great honor.

Teshin: her mentor and a father-like figure, she cares greatly about him and always appreciates his lessons.

Operator Kaylessa has a sibling-like relationship with Drifter Kaylessa, but the main role the Operator took was one of a mentor.

Ordis: Ordis treats both versions of Kay the same way, like a caretaker. To the Drifter, he’s kind of like an uncle.

Loid: a friendly guide, she deeply appreciates his efforts, but has a bit of a hard time telling Loid that if she saw Albrecht ever again, it’s on sight.

The Cavia: the animals are deeply precious to Kay and another big motivation for her vengeance towards Albrecht.

Dominus Thrax: she pities the child king, after all she created him and kind of made him into her personal punishment

Albrecht: enemy number two, after the Indifference

Viktor: enemy number three

Theme Song: Dead Cells - Clock Tower Dead Cells - ClockTower (Official Soundtrack)

What voice I imagine her having: Sandra Nasic from Guano Apes, especially the first three albums era

Biography: Kaylessa’s parents were biology scholars of good renown. Born in one of the first cities built on the terraformed Venus, Kay led a quiet and idyllic life, in tune with nature from birth as her parents took her and her older sister Aurelia on their research expeditions. Aurelia, being 6 years older, made sure to protect her little sister whenever she had an opportunity and show her the world to the best of her understanding.

Boundlessly curious, Kay took up to learning all about plants and animals, giving her parents great hope she’d follow in their footsteps. Her sister was an academic ace, especially excelling in genetics, with an early dream of becoming an Archimedean. The more reserved future Drifter did not think of such ambitious things yet, but she was no less knowledge hungry, often preferring to read books once she was able to read and look at the beauty of the natural world over interacting with others.

When Kaylessa was 10, her family was selected to be among the first colonists of Tau, boarding the fated ship Zariman Ten Zero, which was to be their new home… and ended up being the tomb for most of them. Three years later, she lost everything and everyone she cared about. Forced to kill her sister who turned mad then watching her parents tear each other apart when imprisoned left her with haunting nightmares and a major case of survivor’s guilt.

She ended up stranded on the Zariman when the deal she made with the Man in the Wall made it so everyone else but her was saved. Escaping into Duviri, she ended up stuck for a long, long time, until the New War’s paradox brought her salvation.

She took up a more active role between the two versions of her after emerging, hoping to give her child soldier self some respite from everything that happened. Until she had to travel in the past… and now she does not know if she’ll want to return, unless she finds a way to bring the Hex with her.

Other notes: ADHD and autism traits but do they diagnose that stuff in the far future? Probably not, up to you if because it’s considered a normal thing or because things are just ignored due to everything being gigafucked. She’s left handed so I mirror everything that defaults to right hand to left hand in my mind, like the Lotus hand. She’s demisexual. Her face scars are less prominent but even then, that’s why she got accessories on her to draw attention from the scars away.

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As you can see I gave her a small look revamp - after they fixed the kiss cut scene it had me notice a few things that I liked more before fixes and some things that pestered me too much so, I adjusted her look.

Character sheet courtesy of @ashandshy https://www.tumblr.com/ashandshy/772406073411960833/drifter-character-sheets-of-2025

#warframe #warframe 1999 #warframe drifter #drifter kaylessa

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brightreddays · 2 months ago

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Where did the silly cliche come from -- the one about a lightbulb suddenly going off over someone's head when an idea sparks?

Miles has no clue. But to his mild astonishment, he can almost see it. Misty -- turned half-away, arms crossed and apparently deep in thought, as he sorts fruit into some semblance of order -- whirls to face him. And literally lights up: eyes going round and wild and gleeful, a brilliant smile blooming across her face.

If Misty was pretty before, half-frowning with focus, she's verging on goddess-radiant now -- all flashing eyes and bright white teeth, lovely dark cheeks dimpled and braids swinging. "That's it!" she exclaims, and looks at him as though he's some sort of genius. For half an astonished second Miles thinks she's about to seize him by the ears and kiss him; instead, she smacks her hands together delightedly.

He is sufficiently dazzled to be unbothered by the floof of flour that results, dusting everything in sight and dappling his already-slightly-greying beard. He watches, both hands dug into an increasingly-orderly pile of berries, as she leaps into action -- a marvel of chaotic industry at the other end of the long counter. A veritable human tornado: whisking empty berry boxes off the counter with one hand, snatching up berries, sending a mixing spoon flying (thankfully in the other direction, where it clangs off a commercial-grade stainless steel sink).

It's impressive; it's delightful; it's slightly intimidating in a spine-tingling, rousing sort of way. She's Hestia, come to life in a small-town bakery -- spinning, gathering, feet dancing across the flour-spattered tile. The clip holding her dark braids together comes loose and they whip around. Miles' fingers twitch with the urge to gather them back together neatly, keep them from dipping into the various bowls and splashes of goo, but he refrains, loathe to interrupt the blur of hectic motion, the stream-of-consciousness patter that rolls off her tongue.

He's still watching, rapt, when she stops and spins, knife in hand, abruptly enough to startle him a little. You! Miles nearly snaps to attention -- a lifelong soldier's reflex when addressed by someone who clearly outranks him. At least here, in the kitchen; it's a chaos of flour and fruit and sugar, but clearly Misty's domain and under her rule.

Bristles a little, instead, indignant, at the implication he doesn't know how to cut fruit properly. "Big honking chunks...?" he repeats, blinking, tone dripping with disdain "Please." With a huff, he takes the knife and sets to work -- hoping he is in fact doing it correctly, having never sliced a blackberry in his life. Misty swirls away again, muttering about lemon zest, flinging open drawers and cabinets.

It's not until a dozen or so blackberries in -- painstakingly cut wafer-thin, fingers stained purple -- that Miles' own personal lightbulb comes on. He drops his chin to his chest and laughs. Misty Apple, a woman he barely knew until a few moments ago, has pulled off a double-whammy. She's not only managed to make him forget, briefly, that he's tarted up in a ridiculous frilly apron, like the world's most pathetic Betty Crocker drag. But she's also managed to find and push his personal buttons in the way that's most likely to sucker him into doing something. Imply -- or state outright -- that Miles is likely to fuck something up, and he will leap in with vigor and attempt to prove you wrong, no matter how odious or ridiculous the task.

Gotcha. Game, set, match.

Not that cutting up fruit, although decidedly messy, is particularly odious. Especially not in such lovely, albeit disorganized, company. But still -- "Well done, you," he tells Misty, grinning, blue-grey eyes alight, and snaps off a mock-salute with the paring knife. Respect where it's due. She doesn't reply, moving in ten directions at once, at lightspeed, head in the game. Miles sighs, shaking his head, and chuckles to himself -- a soft, gravelly heh-heh-heh -- then gets back to work on the blackberries.

A ruder (and perhaps more sensible) man might have pretended not to hear Misty Apple’s entreaty; might have kept going.

Miles is not that man, no matter how much he sometimes wishes he was. His innate sense of duty, and a sort of outmoded but bred-in-the-bone chivalry, will not allow him to ignore a neighbor in distress. (Especially one as winsome and lovely as the recently-divorced Ms. Apple, but that’s neither here nor there.)

So instead of lounging languidly at Jumpin' Beans, sipping a latte and completing this morning’s crossword (Norsemen! his brain supplies helpfully, too late), he finds himself in the floury whirl of activity that is the Happy Apple before opening time.

And holding a ceramic bowl of sticky batter at arm’s length. Miles has held live pipe bombs with only slightly more unease. He is not panicking – that’s absurd, he is a seasoned military veteran and seasoned military veterans do not panic. (Right…? Right.) The expression on his face – brows knit together in the center of his forehead, blue-grey eyes round with alarm underneath – is just surprise, and mild dismay.

A blob of batter has already found its way onto his wrist, smearing a shirt cuff and gluing a scrim of ginger-brown hair to the skin underneath. It’s only a matter of time before his favorite vest gets slimed as well. But before he can politely ask where he might put the bowl down -- here comes Ms. Apple. "Oh, that's really not --" he begins, mildly aghast.

But it's Misty to the rescue, saving his waistcoat, at the expense of his dignity. Dear God. Before Miles can voice a polite objection, it's done -- he's spun around to face the window, and a frilly daisy-patterned apron's knotted around his waist, pulled tight enough to draw a startled gasp. If he has ever wondered what Scarlett O'Hara felt like, clinging to a bedpost for dear life while being forcefully laced into a corset, he need wonder no longer.

The experience is both mortifying and – weirdly -- kind of hot. Maybe only because it's Misty, who is undeniably beautiful, and is also apparently a take-charge, no-nonsense kind of woman. Miles is still processing all of that when a blueberry bounces past on the floor. Turning, he finds Misty heaping fruit onto the counter, keeping up a constant flow of patter to herself.

It's a mess -- she ducks under the counter, braids flying, and fetches out one thing after another, dumping it onto the already-overflowing pile. She's got flour on her sleeve and a big smear of something sticky on her cheek. What is rhubarb, and why would anyone tile a roof with it? Miles wonders dully, watching the chaos unfold and sidestepping errant bits of fruit.

The sugar, and Misty's snort of laughter, snap him out of his deer-in-the-headlights freeze. "Yet?" he inquires archly, one brow raised. The utter disorder -- batter dripping from the bowl, flour and icing sugar dusting everything, fruit spilling everywhere -- sets orderly Miles' teeth on edge, gets his mild OCD crackling. That's it, he decides. If we're doing this -- and it is, apparently, a team effort now, since he's been kitted out as some sort of baker's helper -- we're doing it right.

He catches a falling blackberry neatly with the bowl; it plops into the batter where (hopefully) it was meant to be anyway. Elbowing a crock of utensils aside, he clears a space and puts the whole mess down. There's a handful of mint sprigs amongst the mess; he snaps one off and pops it into his mouth, chewing it -- nature's breath freshener -- and de-goops his wrist with a bit of the apron.

The crazy fruit explosion on the counter cannot be borne. But first things first -- the smear of jam on Misty's cheek, perilously near her hairline, is making Miles' eye twitch. He marches around the counter and cleans it off -- briskly but gently -- with a corner of the daisy-patterned apron, then dusts her off. "That's better," he rasps, with a relieved huff of breath through his nose.

And unbuttons his shirt cuffs, rolling his sleeves up. "I suppose I should ask what we're making," he remarks, turning his attention to the fruit -- corralling it safely away from the edge of the counter and starting to separate it into tidy piles

#bhs #thread: miles/misty #the happy apple

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notallangelsaregood · 2 years ago

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My thoughts on Spy x Family Chapter 82

Needless to say, (some real serious) manga spoilers alert

Oh, boy, I'm gasping for air. I'm panicking, and I've not panicked this much about Spy x Family since Anya's last hijack incident (which my heart has not recovered yet). Mr. Endo, may you, please, pay my cardiologist bill? I'm not joking, I'm hyperventilating, and my chest is TU DUM, TU DUM.

The mole was discovered! Poor guy (or not, who knows?). I wonder what SSS will do to him. How far will the organization go? I believe we won't even know.

I'm seriously nervous for him. Twillight is used to things getting on his way, with minimum complications and this situation is definitely not it. Of course, he could figure things could go bad, since It's a really risky operation, however, I feel his frustration in not getting much time to secure the real wheeler.

Damn, my heart is not surviving till the end of this chapter.

Our man got ✨ The Skills ✨ Still, all this shooting is getting me pretty nervous. I'm immediately getting my anxiety meds. Endo, what the actual f-

Yeah, Twilight is The Man! Still, my hands are trembling and so is my apprehensive cardiac organ. This is sure to be qualified as torture.

He is quite wise disguising as Yuri. Haha, got it? I'm not okay, Christ.

Damn, Yuri is very intelligent, as well. The brains had to go to one of the Briar's, am I right? (Poor Yor, I love you, It's not personal. Bad comedy is my coping mechanism when I'm nervous. I'm so sorry!)

He is right about that. Twilight is nervous. And I wonder why. Maybe because there's more on this game than before? He is a father. A husband. He worries. He is not the same he was before, as much as he tries to convince himself that he is not attached to his fake family dynamics.

I can clearly imagine his thoughts racing. He's thinking about Anya, about Yor, about WISE, while trying to run and get these thoughts away from him in order to not commit mistakes, like leaving a footprint behind. Just saying.

Oh Yuri, you are so sweet, in a way. And you know absolutely nothing.

The panic™ on his face. Poor Yuri, I'm truly divided right here. See? I'm calmer, not panicking at all, this is certainly my clonazepam working.

Quick (but important) writer's note here, I'm actually diagnosed with intense anxiety and use prescribed medication, I joke about it, cause It's better to laugh than cry on the reality of my condition, however, never use anxiolytic/benzodiazepines drugs without valid prescription and conscience, it might cause long-term dependency and tolerance. My Pharmacy academic self felt the need to point this out. Moving on!

By the way, have you noticed the "waver"? Twilight is hesitating, deeply, which makes him more prone to aiming wrong. Haha, ha… I'm okay, I swear 😰

...

HOW THE FLOOF AM I SUPPOSED TO BE CHILL AFTER THIS, HUH?

Okay, two theories. I'm okay, I swear, my blood pressure is just fine.

Theory number 1. Twilight gets Yuri shot on some of his limbs, probably one of his legs, so our spy can buy time, run to encounter the others Wise's agents and hide. Gladly, he can aim just on the spot when no much damage is made to Yuri, even though the spy is extremely nervous. Twillight was totally not expecting to find him on that corner, and he knows that doing something so serious like UNALIVING HER WIFE'S BROTHER will tear her apart. Why else he would waver? He is the best spy of Westalis. He doesn't hesitate, but this is different.

Theory number 2. Which I believe is less likely, but still possible, Yuri gets our incredible Spy shot on some area of his body where the disguise falls off, and he realizes Twillight and Loid are the same person, but he does nothing about it, at least not for a while. Making him and the spy share this major secret for a while, due to numerous reasons, but mainly to protect Yor and take her out of her position as Loid's wife safely. But as I said, I find unlikely to Yuri shoot TwiTwi, even though the latter is quite nervous and might not dodge the shot. Besides the fact Loid has his arm aimed at Yuri first, while Yuri has his arm sideways, which gives Twilight an advantage in time.

Be sure to talk to me in the comments, I would love to hear what you guys think. Moving on to the last past of the chapter.

Lady Yor! Our grownup baby! She is still with the same outfit and hair down, so I assume it's late at night or afternoon, maybe Anya is already home or at a sleepover with Becky? Not sure.

Our poor girl is nervous due to Yuri filling her thoughts with the possibility of Loid cheating (which is dumb as floof, because he is a loyal boy) but still, even sober, Yor is worried. She cares about this family so much it probably hurts and confuses her. Her face on the left gave me chills, so much is going through her mind, almost if she senses something is wrong.

So. Much. Blood. I'm. Nervous. I. Can't. Breath. Properly. What. Was. This? Whose blood is this? (Not Yor's, I assume). I always count the days till the next chapter, but for this one, I'll be in severe mental pain until its release date. My mind racing like Yor's, wondering if Loid will come home late or come home at all.

I keep imagining scenarios where one of the boys gets shoot and the aftermath of that, Loid or Yuri at the hospital or being held by their organizations in order to get intel from them, Yor drying with worry, there are so many possibilities. This arc has been the most intense so far, for me, at least. I don't know how I will cope till June 26th.

What do you guys thinking? If my heart survived until now, yours will! Make sure to like, reblog and support my work here on Tumblr, I really appreciate it. Now I will rest, cause that chapter was (hell) difficult 🌹 (this post will be reviewed soon, so if you encounter any grammar or spelling mistakes, forgive my bilingual mess self)

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charnelhouse · 4 years ago

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🔥🔥 Char(mander) 🔥🔥

In your humble opinion, do you see our beloved Thor being able to handle spicy food? Is he the type to eat a Carolina Reaper just because he can (and he wants to show off) or is he the type who says he can eat spice but ends up with teary eyes and a sore tongue you need to kiss better.😌

Is this random? Yes. Have I been thinking about this to procrastinate from writing? Also yes.

Love you! ❤️

A/N: Thor Odinson x F!Reader. Mentions of sex. floof. omg I took this idea and RAN. I used this gif BC it kind of lewks like he ate something spicy.

They’d been on a mission: you, Thor, Natasha, and Sam. The trip home had been peaceful enough up until Sam and Thor had started pouting about the cramped backseat.

This is dumb. Stark owns a jet.

I can fly.

There's not enough AC back here.

I could call Heimdall.

If you play the Greatest Showman soundtrack ONE more time.

What's wrong with it? I like it.

You would.

What's that supposed to mean, Wilson?

They'd fully worked themselves up into full-blown whining and only shut up once you said Nat would stop at the next restaurant.

It’s one of those barbecue joints off the highway. All wood panels and seeping smoke and the scent of oak and hickory and hot meat. Most of the tables are just picnic benches outside. Paper napkins and plastic cutlery. The sun burns the nape of your neck as you lean against Thor's heavy shoulder.

Around them is nothing but flat landscape and weighted blue sky and the crawl of an Indian summer breeze. It's kind of nice, though. It's almost normal.

The restaurant - if you can call it that - is fucking good. The food is dry-rubbed and slow-smoked as you eat pieces of brisket on top of potato salad and pickles and square-cut white bread. Sam stuffs two juicy-thick links into his mouth at once without chewing. You’re ready to tease him with a lewd comment until you glance at your boyfriend who is housing four of them.

“This is delicious,” Nat remarks as she spoons syrupy peach cobbler onto her tongue.

“Need more rice,” Sam grunts while scraping at his near-clean plate.

“Ribs,” Thor growls before standing up and going back inside. You are already sure he's going to clear out the rest of their food for the next week.

“Didn't he already eat like three racks of ribs?”

You shrug. “He’s a hungry boy.”

Nat cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah,” she smiles. “We could tell.”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You grab your beer and take a heavy sip - the liquid is cold and hoppy as it slips down your throat. You wouldn't mind getting a little drunk - just enough to help you pass out in the backseat of the SUV. You'd barely gotten any sleep last night.

"We could hear you."

“The motel walls were thin,” Sam clarifies.

You choke - splashing your thin shirt with beer.

Nat presses a hand to her chest before she opens her mouth: “Oh fuck - Thor - fuck right there - right there - oh you’re SO big -”

“I did not say that!”

“Yeah,” Sam laughs. “And then Thor was all does that feel good my pretty one - i bet that feels so good - now call me daddy while I tear that ass up.”

“Okay - Thor has never asked me to call him that, Wilson.”

“Whatever - you two were getting into some kinky shit,” He stabs more meat before gesturing it at you wildly. “I was jealous.”

“Yeah - invite us next time,” Nat says.

“Really?”

“No.’

Sam’s head snaps to Nat. “Speak for yourself, Romanoff.”

Thor bursts back out onto the patio balancing four trays. He’s in jeans and a white tank - his muscles gleaming beneath a faint coating of sweat. The other patrons watch as he moves through the tables - broad and large and golden. His blonde hair is tied up in a low ponytail and when he spots you, his lips peel back into a handsome grin. You’re stupidly in love with him.

It’s almost disgusting.

He plops down next to you - shaking the entire table. He grabs you roughly by the shoulder and kisses your cheek. He’s in a far better mood now that he’s eaten. “I have news, friends.”

“Hmm?”

“They had this sauce for the wings that they said no man can handle and I said that I’m no mortal man and they said if I eat this whole basket we get it for free!”

“We charged it all to Stark already,” Nat reminds.

Thor frowns. “Well - I’m still trying it.”

You pat his arm gently. “You do that, baby.”

The wings are bright red and you’re certain they’d burn your tastebuds off. You don’t know Asgardian food though. You don’t know if he’s used to spice or if it’ll even affect him.

“I’d be careful, man,” Sam pokes his fork into the basket with a suspicious gaze. “That shit is no joke and I grew up in Louisiana.”

“Does Asgard have spicy food?” Nat asks.

“Of course!” Thor exclaims as he sinks his teeth into a wing before speaking through a mouthful of chicken. “You know - we had nuts with spices on them and stews - and -”

He blinks a few times before his lips part - his face beginning to grow rosy. Water pools beneath his lashes as he sniffs. He drops the wing and it rolls off the table into the dusty concrete.

Both Sam and Natasha sport matching expressions. Their eyes wide as their mouths open in realization.

“Thor,” you murmur as you curl his hair back over his ear to see him better. He turns to you and he looks fucked - his nose leaking as his breath catches in his throat. He sniffs again and smears the back of his hand across his brow just as you yell: Wait! Don’t!

“Fucking hells,” he howls out as his eyes turn pink - the skin around them beginning to swell and twitch. Nat runs back into the restaurant to hopefully find milk or ice cream or anything while Sam just stares at him with a horrified expression.

Thor plants his hands on the table and there is the faint surge of power in the air - the taste of ozone and a spark of electricity around his knuckles and you can’t have him light this whole damn place up. You need to distract him or soothe him in some way. You grab him roughly by the face, your thumb sweeping through the tears that are trailing down his cheeks and catching in his beard.

You squeeze his jaw before yanking him down to you and smashing his mouth to yours. You devour his lips like that - your tongue sliding behind his teeth with frantic urgency. You’re licking at the spice and the tang and it’s all beginning to burn and it’s probably not doing shit for him, but at least it’s taking his mind off turning into a full lightning bolt in the middle of the damn state.

He moans softly and you’re not sure if it’s from you or the pain overwhelming him, but finally you have to come up for air and so you release him. Your mouth hurts - your nose stuffed full and achy with the lingering toxic venom of that stupid Carolina reaper heat.

He blinks at you stunned just as Nat rushes back to the table with a carton of ice cream and a glass of milk. She thrusts it into Thor’s hands and he chugs the whole thing - white liquid dripping into his dark beard and staining his shirt.

You snatch the ice cream from her and heave a healthy spoonful into your mouth. You’d only gotten the spice secondhand, but still - it fucking stings - feels as if you’d gotten punched in the sinuses.

“You okay, dude?” Sam asks while he quietly snags another rib from Thor’s plate.

Thor nods as he wipes at his chin. “Wasn’t - uh - too terrible,” he coughs. He turns toward you, leaning forward until his nose knocks against your own so he can clumsily kiss you. “That was so sweet of you.”

You shrug - your tongue slightly numb from the cold ice cream.

“I’ll pay you back later, my love,” he grins - wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He picks up another wing before you smack it out of his hands.

“Eat that and you’re not putting that tongue anywhere near my vagina."

#thor x female reader #thor x you #thor imagine #thor headcanon #thor odinson #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x female reader #thor odinson x you

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eudaimonia83 · 2 years ago

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Ok so this is a very raw and unedited scrap that I wrote one day in the line at a coffee shop (it has no plot or anything, just floof) but it’s super cute and relates to the baby thing. Elucien with the Daybies is canon in my heart. 🌞

———————

Elain opened her arms to the little girl, and folded her tightly within them, pressing a kiss to her strawberry-blonde hair. “Were you scared?”

The little arms snaked around her waist, holding her tightly. Elain had never felt a better hug. But Aurora nodded, and then turned her head so Elain could hear her muffled reply. “I heard you and I thought someone was hurting you.”

Elain’s eyes were suddenly hot with tears. She stroked her daughter’s head softly, then slowly, awkwardly, careful of her screaming muscles and sore legs, knelt down to look her in the face. “I’m sorry, sunshine,” she said gently, her thumbs wiping away the tears that hung on Aurora’s lashes. Such radiant lashes, gold and russet, gleaming around her sea-blue eyes. Elain could never wrap her mind around how perfect her eldest daughter was; a clash of stormy feelings and sunny disposition, Lucien’s smart mouth and her gentleness, and a stubborn streak her aunt Nesta adored. “You were young enough when the boys were born that you don’t remember. It’s hard to give birth, so…”

“So you were screaming?”

“Yes,” Elain admitted.

Aurora frowned, her lip sticking out in a fierce little pout. “Papa said he’d never let anyone hurt you.”

Elain smiled and struggled to her feet, catching at the back of a chair to steady herself on her still-wobbly legs. “He wouldn’t if it was possible not to, sunshine. Sometimes something is hard and we have to do it to get to the reward.” Aurora’s face turned contemplative as she thought about that. Elain brushed her hair away from her face and went on, “But it didn’t hurt any more than it had to, and it was over quickly, and Papa was there with me. So I’m very happy, because now I have your beautiful baby sister to help me feel better. And your Papa, and Helios and Reyus, and….” She paused dramatically, waiting for Aurora to finish the sentence.

Aurora brightened. “And me!”

Elain squeezed her hand and kissed it. “And you.” She looked up at the sound of a reedy, earsplitting wail from the next room.

Aurora turned her head so swiftly that her curls bounced, and stared at Lucien as he carefully walked in, balancing the screaming baby against his chest. “Is that her, Papa?”

“It is.” Elain squeezed her hand again. “Why don’t you go get your brothers and you can all meet her together?”

Aurora tore her hand from Elain’s and ran out of the room, swift as a sunbeam in her excitement.

Lucien grinned after his retreating eldest. “She tried to get in here with my dagger, you know.”

Elain gasped. “She didn’t.”

He placed the baby in her arms and assisted her to sit on the nearest couch, then nuzzled her hair affectionately. “She did indeed. When I found her she was in her room crying, trying to cut down the curtains so she could make a rope. She wanted to climb across the balcony to you.”

“My sweet girl,” Elain murmured, leaning her head against Lucien as she pulled her dress aside and fitted the baby’s mouth to her breast. “She was so worried.”

“She’s fierce as a falcon,” Lucien said proudly. “And she was most upset with me that I let it happen in the first place. I had to promise very profoundly not to do it again.” He stretched out a long finger to stroke the baby’s downy cheek as she sucked, hungry but contented, at the nipple.

“She’s not wrong there.” Elain shot him a glare.

Lucien laughed loud enough that the baby startled, stirring in her feeding. Elain slapped at his knee. “Hush. It’ll be loud enough in here in a moment without you…”

The door banged open and Aurora rushed back in, leading her two younger brothers, all of them running fast enough that the room abruptly boiled with activity. Elain winced as dark-haired rambunctious Helios grabbed her around the knees, shouting, “Baby sister! Baaybeee seeeester,” and shushed him gently with a light tap on his upturned nose. Reyus, the nickname for his twin Nereus, was a quieter little boy, who clambered up to kneel on the couch and stare at the new arrival with saucer-like brown eyes under tousled red hair, until Lucien scooped him into his arms and snuggled against his neck as he giggled. And Aurora tucked herself tightly against Elain, bony knees up against her chest, eyes wide as she watched the baby feed.

Lucien spoke quietly, and they all hushed to listen to him, squirming to control their eagerness. “This is Lyra,” he told them, “your new sister. She likes quiet, because she has to sleep so she can grow, so you’ll have to be careful to let her do that.”

“Papa!” Helios looked like he might burst with whatever he wanted to ask.

“Yes?”

“She’s tiny!” Helios squinted at the baby.

Lucien nodded. “She is now, but she’ll get bigger. Just like you will. You were tiny like her once too, and now look how big you are.”

Helios beamed, the light from his expression blinding. Elain felt her heart twist in her chest, and the answering tug from Lucien down the bond; their beautiful boy, named after his grandfather, dark in complexion and the actual sun in almost everything else, bouncing from thing to thing throughout the day in utter chaos until he collapsed with exhaustion at night, his eyes so big that his eyelids didn’t close all the way over them. Aurora had shrieked in disgust when she’d noticed that at first, until Elain smothered her laughter and hugged her into a better mood. Reyus was more retiring but understood others in a way that moved Elain profoundly; right now, as Helios reached forward curiously to poke at his new sister’s leg, Reyus sternly pushed his twin’s hand away and said, “Careful, Lios,” seriousness grave in his little voice. Bless them, Elain thought with a surge of emotion. They’re all so sweet and different. Lucien kissed the top of Reyus’ head and said, matching his seriousness, “Yes, thank you Reyus, we have to be careful.”

Elain loved watching Lucien with their children; the most joyous she had ever seen him, and the most self-assured. He wrangled them like a cattle rustler when they were all playing, could lull them all to sleep faster than even she could, and expertly negotiated the million daily conflicts as they stole one another’s toys, argued over whose turn it was with what, or whined about doing what THEY wanted to do. Elain had found him once standing barefoot in the boys’ room holding Helios upside down with one arm as he screamed at the top of his lungs, while Reyus watched from the wreckage of a checkerboard game with teary eyes and runny nose, until Reyus began laughing himself. She’d burst out laughing too, and the diplomat she’d escorted into the residence, who had traveled all the way from Dawn, stood watching in confusion as they all, even Helios who had been the source of the argument, bent over with uncontrollable giggles. But then, it wasn’t unusual when receiving official correspondence that one of the twins be hanging off his leg while another had both arms around his neck. Or for Aurora to read books with him for hours, out on the balcony while lunch was served. Or for Helios to braid his hair, little face screwed up in concentration. Or for them all to follow him like ducklings into the palace fountains, splashing and screaming with excitement, chasing the bright fish that called the fountain home. Lucien could catch them like a lightning strike through the water; while Helios and Aurora lost interest and took to splashing one another in mischief, Reyus had the same unerring eye and steady patience as his father. Elain sat forward, adjusting her arm under the baby, and Lucien turned. “Is she heavy?”

“A bit,” Elain allowed.

“Aurora,” Lucien said gently, “will you get a pillow for your mama’s arm?”

Aurora clambered off the couch and seized a satin pillow, then shoved it under Elain’s elbow. The baby squirmed and fussed; Elain stroked her fuzzy dark hair and quieted her, then sat back, wrapping her arm around Aurora on the other side from Lyra. Helios tried to climb onto her lap, and Lucien seized him and scooped him to sit on the opposite knee as Reyus, then kissed his rumpled dark curls. “Lios,” he said with a tone of great excitement, like it was a secret only the two of them shared, “will you go get your blocks you were playing with before, and show Mama how high a tower you can build?”

Helios sat bolt upright and crowed, “Yes! I builded one almost as high as the Sun Tower, Mama! It comed all the way up to…” he looked around, casting about for a comparison and, not finding one, threw his chubby arm over his head with hand extended to the vaulted ceiling. “…all the way up to there! The sky!”

“It did not,” Aurora sniffed.

“Did huh,” said Helios, bottom lip beginning to stick out.

“It was really high! But it falled down,” Reyus piped up, sensing that Helios needed support in the way that only a twin brother could, “and Lios cried because he had to build it all OVER again.” He emphasized his words dramatically, leaning back against Lucien with a thump. Elain made a mock-horrified face, and Reyus met her eyes, the mirror of his own, and gave her a big saucy grin.

“That must have taken you all morning,” Elain said, smiling at her boys, who bounced in glee at the attention and nodded vigorously. “My goodness, what are we going to do with two Sun Towers? Your Grandpapa will have to find a place to put it. Maybe right next to the one that’s already in the harbor guiding the ships.” Lucien grinned at her. Helion had to be prevented from buying the children too many presents on an almost weekly basis; it was laughably easy to imagine him putting his grandson’s block tower on display in the Rhodes harbor, sectioned off with a velvet rope.

Helios beamed and clambered down off Lucien’s knee, then trotted off toward the door to get the blocks. He stopped right before exiting and turned back. “Will baby sister want to play too?”

“Not now, she’s tired from eating and she needs to grow,” Lucien said, so deeply serious that Elain almost laughed and cried at the same moment. “But if you ask nicely, maybe Reyus would play with you. Or Rora.”

“I want to read a book with Mama,” Aurora protested.

Reyus hopped nimbly down from Lucien’s knee. “I’ll play, Lios,” he said, and the two of them trotted out together.

————————

elucien headcanon:

lucien feels through the bond that elain is under extreme stress in the middle of the night and can sense her panicking. despite his better judgement, he winnows to the river house thinking something terrible has happened and she is in immediate danger.

but when he frantically arrives, sword in hand, it's just elain babysitting nyx, with bags under her eyes, a diaper blow out all over her, covered in spit up, and a crying baby she is desperate to put to sleep.

"m-my lady, i apologize, i thought you were under duress--"

"i am in duress" elain starts crying.

cue elucien baby sitting night.

#elucien #elucien headcanon #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #the daybies tho

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dapandapod · 3 years ago

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Perfect dissonance

For my darling @jaskierswolf-love who deserves all the floof in the entire world. You make my fandom experience so much brighter and i am so happy you are my friend. Thank you for being you, and I love you.

Oh and also thank you @kuripon for betareading this suppppeerrr fast. Please enoy this fluff fest and please brush your teeth.

Warnings: Floof. Toothrotting floof. Go brush your teeth.

On Ao3 here

When the thought hits him, everything stops.

Geralt is sitting by his computer, working on the latest report needed for tomorrow's presentation. It is tedious and boring and incredibly dull, to use Jaskier’s words, but it needs to get done.

In the kitchen, he can hear his friend clattering away with pots and pans, humming and muttering and snorting at his own jokes.

It is nice to have him around again. It’s been too long since his last visit, which is the worst part about living so far apart.

These past few days spent together was like a missing piece of him had slotted into place. How they just settled together, even if the bed is too narrow for the both of them, even if Jaskier hogs all the covers, even if Geralt’s habit of always grabbing a new mug for every cup of coffee drives Jaskier out of his mind, even then.

As Jaskier drops one of the pots on the floor and swears loudly, it hits him.

Geralt doesn’t want him to leave.

He feels himself freeze in his chair, his fingers hovering over the keys, a mix of fear and rightness swirling in his chest.

This is how they belong. This is how things should be. The two of them, together, spending their days in perfect dissonance. Geralt loves him.

Loves his grouchy morning mood and stinky feet, loves his hands as he plucks the strings on whatever kind of instrument he got his hands on this time. Loves his voice as he sings loudly to the radio or in the shower using up all the hot water.

Geralt loves him, and it is the single most frightening thought he has ever had.

The pot hits the floor with a loud bang, its contents flying everywhere. Jaskier swears loudly and angrily in all the languages he knows, and curses their mothers for good measure.

Potatoes taunt him from the floor, mocking him for getting distracted by a hoodie, of all things. Well, it is not just any hoodie, it is a stolen hoodie, and those are always the best. Especially when they smell like Geralt, which had been his undoing in this scenario.

He kneels on the floor, chasing down all of the evil potatoes and putting them back in the pot. He has just stood up again when he spots one evil little bastard hiding under the kitchen table, and Jaskier has had enough.

He puts the pot onto the counter and puts the meat back into the fridge. Then he pads into the living room, to where Geralt sits in by his computer.

Geralt seems to be lost in thought, his eyes on the screen but his gaze far away. A small frown is forming on his brow, and that is not allowed when Jaskier is here.

Jaskier needs comfort, so he lifts one of Geralt’s arms and makes room for himself in the small space between Geralt and the table. Meaning, he is sitting in Geralt’s lap and pretending he is a blanket, wrapping himself all over him and putting his full weight onto Geralt.

“The potatoes are defying me. We are ordering in.”

“I heard,” Geralt says, but he sounds a little off.

Jaskier sits back and looks at Geralt, their faces inches apart. Personal space who? But Geralt never minds his tactile nature, even if he is still learning how to return the favor.

“What’s wrong?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt’s frown deepens.

“Nothing.”

“Well, ‘nothing’ is keeping you from hugging me back, and I am way too greedy to share you with whatever is keeping you from doing that.”

That teases a smile from Geralt, and he finally actually wraps his arms around Jaskier’s hips.

“Good boy,” Jaskier says approvingly, and leans his head against the chair's backrest. That lets him nuzzle into Geralt’s hair, tightening his grip around Geralt’s shoulders. “Now tell me about that nothing that is terrorizing us.”

Geralt is silent for a moment. He usually is, when he is gathering his words, assembling them in an order he likes. Jaskier takes the time to get comfortable, his hands meeting behind Geralt’s neck and making small, loose braids.

“I like having you here,” Geralt finally says.

“I like having me here too.” Jaskier smiles, the familiar butterflies rushing up to greet him.

It is so incredibly hard to go back home every time he comes to visit, he likes sharing that too small bed, he likes finding coffee cups in the oddest of places where Geralt forgets them, he loves the absentminded way he tucks Jaskier in when he gets up early in the morning, he….

“I think I love you.”

Oh. Oh, oh, wait, hang on.

Geralt is frozen under him, every muscle stiff with the realization of what he just said. Jaskier’s heart is beating like crazy, his breath stuck in his lungs, his hands shaking with the sudden rush of adrenaline.

“Oh,” he manages, hiding in Geralt’s neck.

Where the fuck did his words go? Everything spins and everything stops and everything is slotting together like pieces that were missing for too long.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Geralt says softly, his voice so uncertain that Jaskier aches for him.

He sits up a little straighter, angling so he can look at Geralt again.

“You call that nothing?” Jaskier jokes weakly, knocking their foreheads together, noses touching. “You really need to reevaluate a few things if that is nothing. That is the single most important thing I have ever heard in my life.”

Geralt closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath.

“I, however, know perfectly that nothing compares to you.”

“Did you just quote Sinéad O'Connor at me?”

“Maybe. I love you though.”

“..... like that?”

“Like that. Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Jaskier presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Geralt’s mouth, and then they both draw in a shaky breath. This is new territory, uncharted, and they are about to explore it together.

“Maybe I could…stay,” Jaskier whispers.

“Maybe you could,” Geralt agrees, holding him closer, hiding his face in Jaskier’s neck.

Maybe he can. Maybe he will.

This is how they belong. This is how things should be. The two of them, together, spending their days in perfect dissonance.

#geraskier #the witcher #modern au #getting together #friends to lovers #cuddling #geralt x jaskier #tooth rotting fluff #go brush your teeth #potatoes are the villains in this fic #but i think geralt might hold them a little closer to heart than he might ever admit #dapanda writes #jaskierswolf #i love you darling #thank you for being you #hope you like it

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doyouknowbtsswag · 4 years ago

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I’m not jealous of a damn dog |Technoblade|

It was a normal Tuesday morning with Technoblade holding me close to his chest sleeping. Floof ran into the room jumping on the bed. He licked both me and Technoblade's faces waking us up. I giggled at the small white dog sitting up.

He immediately ran into my lap. Techno rubbed his eyes slightly annoyed that his dog woke him up. He glared at Floof who was wagging his tail as I gently scratched his head.

"I'm going back to sleep it's 8:40, too early in my opinion," Technoblade said laying back the way he was earlier hoping you would agree but oh boy was he wrong.

"Alright! I can take Floof on a walk real quick so he can let out some energy, you know how she gets when she's hyper" I smiled at the dog in my lap.

"Whatever" Techno replied slightly annoyed but not wanting to show it.

"We will be back soon" I kissed his lips softly placing the dog on the ground so I could get up.

I got out of bed and walked to the dresser grabbing sports leggings and a regular T-shirt, then putting it on. Techno looked over the blankets. I rolled my eyes and threw a random shirt at him. He just laughed going back under the blankets.

I went to the bathroom with Floof following. I brushed my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. I looked down at the small dog who sat patiently at my feet. I giggled leaving the bathroom giving Techno one last kiss.

"I love you"

"Love you too" He grunted.

I chuckled walking into the kitchen grabbing Floof's leash and my keys. I put my sneakers on which were by the door.

"Come here Floof" I kneeled down connecting the leash to his collar. I stood up and walked to the door unlocking it. When Floof and I walked out the door I locked it even though we live on the 3rd floor of the apartment building doesn't mean someone won't rob it.

Floof and I walked to the elevator. I pressed the first-floor button because the ground floor went to the parking garage. When we reached the floor we wanted, Floof and I walked out of the building walking to the park.

Techno couldn't sleep, after sleeping with you for 2 years it became unusual to sleep by himself.

"Stupid dog" he grumbled getting out of bed, he was tired but he got bored of just laying around.

Floof was a dog who lived off of attention. Techno knew that when he decided to take the dog but he wasn't prepared for him to constantly take you 'Away from him' he called it. He would never admit it though his pride wouldn't let him.

He didn't know why it was bothering him more than it usually did. Maybe it was because Floof has been a little more clingy to you this week making it hard to spend time with you. He adores Floof so much but sometimes he wishes he didn't live with him.

Techno walked to the kitchen only wearing pajama pants. He opened the fridge grabbing the orange juice container. As he went to grab a cup he accidentally stepped onto water, he looked down seeing a small water trail from Floof's water bowl. Probably some water that ended up on his fur.

Techno groaned looking at the ceiling getting more and more agitated. He grabbed a cup after a minute of contemplating his life. He poured orange juice into the cup sitting down on one of the stools. He placed the cup down on the island table and looked at the time. It had been 10 minutes since you left with Floof. You usually walked Floof with him for about fifteen minutes.

"Five more minutes" Techno sighed standing up leaving the almost empty cup where he was sitting. He walked to his Pc and started up Minecraft clicking on Hypixel to grind on Skyblock.

After 10 minutes you came back through the door Floof wagging his tail walking in the house now released from her leash.

"I'm home" I announced closing the door behind me. I walked into the very small but suitable office seeing Techno playing Hypixel.

I wrapped my arms around his neck placing my chin on his head watching him kill different types of spiders in the spider den.

Techno leaned back looking up at me pouting ever so slightly. I raised my eyebrow staring at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" He mumbled looking back to his game. "Why aren't you with Floof?" He added with a hint of annoyance.

"He’s sleeping I took him to the dog park"

"I'm surprised you aren't cuddling with him "

"Techno?"

"What?"

"Are you jealous?" I asked giggling

"No, I'm not jealous of a damn dog"

"Your not good at lying Tech"

"Fine, you've been more time with the dog than me this week" He refused to make eye contact with you too embarrassed that he admitted it.

"Awwww" I teased him

"Shut up" He mumbles his face red

"I'll make sure to spend more time with you maybe play on our private Minecraft world?"

"That's fine" He replies clicking out of Hypixel. "But I want to cuddle because we didn't get to this morning"

"Sounds good to me" I smiled.

Techno stood up and picked me up walking to the room. I wrapped my arms around his neck. Floof was sleeping on his dog bed in the other room. Techno laid me down as he went under the blankets. He wrapped his arms around me and I smiled kissing his cheek.

"You don't have to be jealous of a dog, I'll always be here"

"Yeah yeah," He rolled his eyes letting a small smile appear on his face.

#dream smp x you #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #techno x reader #technoblade #dream smp techno #dsmp techno #technothepig

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sonder-paradise · 4 years ago

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BSD Characters Getting Cold

This is such a dumbass concept but due to the amount of angst I’ve seen on tumblr atm I need floof :’D

Osamu Dazai

This mf is needy

I feel as though I’ve said a fundamental fact

Well cause it is

During winter or just a cold random cold day, he will not hesitate to whine abt it to you

If he’s a work with you then obviously he won’t be working

He’ll obviously be at your side and trying to get you to hold him

Or Vice versa

He’s not a picky person just a needy one (°▽°)

Complains that he needs the warmth of his loved one or he shall perish _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

“Belladonna, pleaseee! I’m freezing right now!” (´；Д；`)

Man rlly just wants your hands in his n o w

At home, he’ll bundle under the covers or drag you into bed fo cuddle

There’s no exceptions o(｀ω´ )o

Every time you think you’re safe and can walk around, he’ll pick up back up and snatch you away

Loves bury his face into the crook of your neck

He might be needy but he’s also affectionate

Sure he could have just got another coat or something

But that would be wrong to neglect his natural heat source

Chuuya Nakahara

Unlike his troublesome partner, Chuuya would rather get sick than admit he’s cold

He’s gone through literal hell and back so why would he be affected by something as stupid as cold?

Someone teach him how to wear his damn coat properly

He would never admit it to your face

Literally would get blue in the face while telling it to your face

You would have to drag the words out of him or just eventually give up and hold his hand or him

He does appreciate when you figure it out and insist on doing it without him instigating it

Once he’s comfortable and warmer, he’ll probably insist that this is something that you want

Chuuya, darling, we know you don’t want to admit this but please-

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only doing this because you’re the one that’s cold.” (￣^￣)

Whatever helps you sleep at night

But he is grateful that the cold is out and away

Cant say that he’s one for the cold weather since he prob gets cold easily

So when handling your Chuuya, please remember to use great care ♪( ´▽｀)

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

All I wanna say is that this man prob sneezes like a kitten

That’s it

That’s the whole post now

Nah I’m just kidding

Aku prob likes bundling up when it’s cold

He lived in the cold all the time as a bb so he’s prob not as affected by it but it’s still cute

He makes sure that you’re warm too

He insists that you wear his coat even if he’s freezing instead

“Do you need to go back inside?”

“Aren’t you colder than me?”

“...no”

Gin sometimes buys or cooks him something warm so he shares with you

He won’t instigate cuddling even if it’s cold so you’ll have to insist on it first

Aku getting cold is actually more rare and one would think

He does shiver like a leaf tho

And it’s adorable ∩^ω^∩

Make him some warm tea and cuddle with him for a little bit and he’ll feel better ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Aku will definitely try and get closer to you or try to hold your hand

It’s mostly as a sign that he’s looking for warmth and you happen to be next to him

Never sure if he’s coughing because he’s colder or he’s just dying like usual

Atsushi Nakajima

He would be such a mf trooper about being cold

He doesn’t want to burden you by admitting that he’s cold

So he just puts up with it until he ends up getting a cold (-.-)

I’m willing to bet that he doesn’t get cold that much either

But he does get all sleepy when it gets cold

He also has a habit of curling up into himself when it does get cold

Nothing too extreme depending on what he’s doing of course

If he’s working at his desk, he’ll hug his legs to his chest

If he’s outside walking around, he’ll wrap his arms around himself

But when he’s with you or by himself, he likes warming himself back up by curling up underneath blankets

Of course he’ll politely ask you if you wanted to join him

“I’m going to take a nap now... Wanna join me?” (*´∇｀*)

But sometimes you’ll just slide in after him

Adores holding you while it’s cold

Plus I reckon his body heat is warmer than normal so he’s a great person to have around during the cold season (〃ω〃)

#[🖋] writing #bsd anime #bsd imagines #dazai osamu #dazai fluff #nakahara chuuya #chuuya fluff #bsd akutagawa #atsushi bsd #bsd scenarios

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (June 2/2021) - Self-Care and Reconciliation

Fundy tries some speedy self-care to follow Quackity’s directions of “finding himself.”

Foolish finds out about the supreme fridge and isn’t pleased.

Antfrost seeks out Foolish, Bad and Puffy to find peace and make amends after what happened with the Egg.

---

VOD LINKS:

Philza

Tubbo

Fundy

Foolish

Eret

Captain Puffy

Antfrost

Michaelmcchill

---

- Phil works on the basement some more

- Tubbo works on his outpost

- Tubbo comes over to the Arctic and visits Phil in his basement to “spy” on him

- They go to Tubbo’s outpost and Tubbo asks if Phil would like to make a TNT canon with him. Phil sees Las Nevadas

- Tubbo’s a changed person since he tried to kill Phil’s friend, and now he and Phil are on good terms!

- Tubbo and Phil start attempting to wrangle a Ghast together for the outpost

- A few days ago, Quackity told Fundy that he could have a plot of land in Las Nevadas under certain circumstances, and Fundy has a choice to join the nation or not

- When he and Quackity spoke, Quackity said that this plot of land can be his if Fundy can find himself. Fundy needs to fix what’s broken

- Living in the middle of nowhere away from other people isn’t good, so today, Fundy wants to take care of himself and become a better person

- Fundy’s snow fox is outside, but Fundy decides to let him roam for the time being

- Fundy goes outside and creates a board with signs:

FUNDY’S PLAN TO BECOME BETTER MAN:

Healthy diet! fish, steak, vegetables, fruit, dary, grains

Take care of himself. be able to cut down tree fast

mine diamonds

be able to accept therapy say “im okay with therapy”

good friends, get 3 people to say im a friend

sleep

take care of pet :)

learn to count

- He sets up a timer to do these eight things, and once it starts, he immediately runs off to fix his diet

- Fundy fetches some cod from the sea and spots Tubbo’s outpost in the distance. Curious, he goes over -- if someone lives there, that can go towards his friend goal

- Seeing that Tubbo isn’t online, Fundy messages Phil instead. He asks if they are friends, and Phil just asks what he wants. After a lot more pressing, Phil says they are friends! Fundy is his grandson, after all

- Phil asks if Fundy is safe. Fundy is overjoyed that he cares about his safety, and counts that as two friends! Fundy says he should come by to play cards sometimes, and Phil likes the idea

- To himself, Fundy whispers: “You are a friend and you are appreciated and worth something. You are cool. You are special. You are loved.”

He counts this as the final friend, and has now completed one goal!

- He creates a small patch of dirt and plants wheat, then goes mining for diamonds

- Fundy chops some trees and returns to his house

- On his bed, he psyches himself up and musters up the courage to say something

Fundy: “I...accept...and am okay...with...”

(he struggles to say the last word)

Fundy: “I accept and am okay with...therapy. I accept and am okay with THERAPY!”

- He then goes outside and learns to count by killing zombies

- After that, he has to go find his pet snow fox. He asks a nearby Enderman where he is

- Fundy and the Enderman go searching together

- Fundy can’t find the fox. He keeps searching around the forest, until he comes back towards his house and finally finds the fox sleeping on a nearby hill

- With all his other goals done, there is only one remaining: sleep.

- He goes to his bed, hesitates...

...and sleeps.

(This is a set up for next stream)

- Foolish returns to his summer home from Las Nevadas and finds the WAR sign, confused. He then notices the disappearance of the supreme fridge

- He reads the war note left in the chest for Ponk and is outraged. That fridge was his gift! Of all the buildings that have been built here, the fridge was the one thing he allowed

- There will be consequences, but as Foolish will be gone for a bit, he can’t do anything now.

- Foolish begins to go through the stages of grief, mourning the fridge, before leaving a note:

---

You destroyed my fridge. It was my gift from Ponk. The one structure that was built for me on this server was destroyed. Once I go through the 5 stages of grief...I will then add on a bonus stage.......REVENGE

---

- He kills one of the L’Sandburg citizen llamas to send a message

- Foolish goes to the main area and visits Eret’s fortress, noticing the totem statue Eret made in mourning. He changes the sign to simply say “in honor of Foolish” instead

- While working on his pyramid some more at the summer home, Foolish notices Antfrost just over the hill. Ant comes over, seeking to apologize for killing Foolish

Foolish: Listen Ant. From the very start I blamed the egg. And I don’t believe the REAL Antfrost killed me. Nice to see some blue eyes as well

Ant: but we didn’t listen to your warnings, we had our chances and we betrayed you and our friends. I wouldn’t blame you if you killed me right here

- Foolish doesn’t. He tells Ant that he’s moving on.

- Ant asks if there’s any way to make it up to him, and Foolish says he could use some help gathering sand (Antfrost finds sand tasty, but Foolish doesn’t eat sand. It has too many calories)

- The two gather sand together

Foolish: I hold nothing against you

Ant: thank you

Foolish: Honestly I think the banquet has changed me for the better

Ant: how so

Foolish: It has given me new found strength. Basically from here on out...I’ll be less timid to take action

Ant: well at least something good came out of it

Foolish: So how about you Antfrost, what’s next for the old sly cat

Ant: I need to talk to Puffy and Bad and Sam and everyone I’ve wronged

- Ant asks if Foolish has seen Puffy anywhere, whether there’s something he can give her as a peace offering. She likes llamas

- Foolish thanks Ant for his help. Ant says if Foolish needs anything, to let him know. Foolish looks forward to happier times

- Puffy comes on later and finds the book Foolish left in the chest. She reads it, but she still thinks getting rid of the fridge was better for the aesthetic, and she had to get back at Ponk

- She writes another letter, this time to Foolish, titled “To my sharkyson”:

---

Dear Foolish!

It was not my intention to make you sad or angry! I didn’t know you cared so much for the fridge as well. it was kinda ugly and it stood out so much from the rest of the builds! But I assure you I’m not allied with Bad, my whole goal behind L’llamaburg was to keep an eye on Bad so he didn’t build any further on your land or cause you more problems.

Once Bad was gone I fully intended to disband l’llamaburg and tear it down!

Sorry for any sadness I may of caused.. you don’t need a fridge though to be reminded of how Supreme you are!

---

- Ant is at the animal sanctuary. Everything’s been destroyed, but at least Floof is still alive

- He saves Asshole the fish from suffocating out of the water and puts the fish back in the aquarium

- Ant goes looking for Bad. They need to talk

- They meet at the Community House. Bad hasn’t seen Ant in a while, he hasn’t been around. Bad asks if Ant is okay, and Ant doesn’t know. He died

- Ant asks what happened. Bad says things didn’t work out according to plan. Ant remembers Quackity coming in at the Banquet...

Ant: “Bad, what did we do? I killed Foolish...”

- Bad says stuff happens and he doesn’t think anyone would blame Ant

Ant: “Bad, I killed him! What do you mean you don’t think anyone blames -- Bad, we’re monsters! Do you know what we did?”

Bad: “W-well, I try not to think about it!”

Ant: “Well you can’t just ignore -- you can’t act like we didn’t do -- Bad, I killed Foolish, we were gonna kill E-- oh my god, Eret’s on the server too.”

- Bad thinks it’s fine, Foolish will recover and Puffy killed Ant but it was one for one. Ant remembers all the horrible things he said to Puffy before he killed Foolish and asks where Bad went afterwards

- Bad had no choice but to run. He couldn’t save Ant, they were outnumbered

Ant: “...Do you not feel bad about anything? Bad, we’re...we’re mon-- we did horrible things!”

Bad: “Well I mean, yeah, you did do some horrible stuff...”

Ant: “No, YOU! You did some horrible stuff! Who pushed Skeppy into lava, Bad? Who betrayed their friends? We betrayed Sam, Bad!”

Bad: “Okay, we did some horrible stuff -- hey, no! Okay, but -- there were good reasons at the time, or we felt like there was!”

Ant: “No! No no, Bad, we let the Egg control us! No! Did the Egg give you what it promised?”

Bad: “No, ‘cause...we never completed the plan...whatever it was. Ant, I can’t remember exactly...it’s not -- look, it’s -- I don’t know...”

- Ant asks if he’s talked to Sam and Puffy yet. Bad’s trying not to think about it, but Ant says they can’t ignore this. They’re friends, they should make amends

- Ant asks if Bad’s been back down there, but Bad’s steered clear. Ant is feeling normal again

Ant: “I...Bad, do you not...We’re fucked up! We did horrible things! Our friends tried to stop us, and we didn’t listen! We didn’t do anything!”

Bad: “There’s a lot of ‘we’ going on here...”

- Bad points out Ant didn’t really say anything. Ant accuses him of blaming him

Bad: “No, I’m just saying that...if the collar fits!”

- Ant says they both did horrible things, they dragged Hannah in, Punz too and Ponk. Bad hasn’t checked up on those three since. It doesn’t seem like Bad feels bad. Ant’s been gone because he felt ashamed

- If there’s anybody that they’ve hurt the most, it’s Sam. They were the Badlands

- Bad says they were brainwashed. He knows it’s not an excuse, that they should still own up to it even if they weren’t fully to blame

- They both killed one person each. Ant accuses Bad of putting the blame on him again and says that Bad killing Skeppy was worse because they’re platonic soulmates

- Ant wants an apology for letting him die and leaving him. Bad didn’t do anything, he just watched Ant die. Bad was caught off guard. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing that Ant died, since otherwise they would’ve killed more people

- Ant says they should own up. Bad apologizes for letting Puffy kill Ant. He should have protected Ant, not just from Puffy but from the Egg too. Ant forgives Bad and says sorry for not protecting Bad from the Egg either

- Seeing as Puffy’s online, Ant suggests they go look for her. Bad says he’ll talk to Puffy later. Ant asks about Skeppy -- Bad talked to Skeppy right after what happened, but he hasn’t seen Skeppy since. They had a bit of a confrontation

- Ant wonders if Sam will forgive them. The Badlands wouldn’t be the same without him. He leaves Bad

- Puffy comes down the Prime Path and meets Antfrost face-to-face. The two have a bit of an awkward greeting

- Puffy reminds him of what happened. He doesn’t know how to apologize, but he says sorry. For saying awful things, for killing Foolish. He doesn’t expect her to forgive him, but he apologizes for what he did

- Puffy says it wasn’t right that she killed him, even though she was acting defensively, and she apologizes as well. Ant didn’t deserve to die either, he was blinded by the Egg. She holds Bad more to blame -- Antfrost talked to him recently

- Puffy forgives Ant. She asks how Bad handled it, and Antfrost says Bad is full of guilt and is hoping he can just forget about it

- Bad hasn’t apologized to Puffy, but Ant says he’ll get around to talking to everyone. Puffy made a burner Twitter account to hate on Badboyhalo and if she doesn’t get an apology, she might have to use it

- About L’Sandburg, Ant says he was there for like five minutes, but he doesn’t know what’s been happening since

Puffy: “Ant, you have to be your own person, Ant. He always uses you as his little pet to do things for you, and you murdered a man now because of it, because of Bad.”

Bad uses Antfrost to do things. Why didn’t Bad kill Foolish himself? Why was Antfrost thrown under the bus?

- She tells Ant that he needs to stand up for himself. She had to watch so many “RIP that pussy” and “Why’d you have to kill my cat” edits, it was the worst timing

- Puffy messages Bad asking if he’s apologized to Ant. They spot Bad nearby and walk over to confront him. He’s selling arrows

- Bad says he said sorry for letting Ant die, but Ant wants an apology for Bad making him do everything. Bad says they were both just following the Egg’s orders, that Ant had a grudge against Foolish -- but Ant says he didn’t, that Bad said he had to kill people

- Bad says sorry, but the Egg just wanted it that way. They accuse him of making excuses. Bad apologizes to Antfrost for making him kill Foolish, and the two hug

- Bad and Skeppy had a disagreement after the Red Banquet, and he has to check up with him to make sure he’s okay

- Bad says sorry to Puffy for what they did while under the Egg’s influence. Puffy was told that they were turning a new leaf, letting bygones be bygones so many times that if she took a shot every time she was told that, she would get alcohol poisoning

- Bad says sorry for everything to both of them, from the bottom of his heart. Puffy accepts to be the bigger person. They’ve always been a trio, always been friends, and now that the Egg’s no longer here, she’ll let it slide

- They do a group hug

- After some chatting, Puffy accuses Bad of having a Wattpad account to write Skephalo fanfiction and they continue talking about Skeppy’s merch boxes

- Michael joins the call! They all hang out together

- Later on, Eret and Foolish join in as well!

- A while after, they all go over to Ponk’s stairway to heaven to finally destroy it

(The build dates back to at least early July, possibly June, of 2020)

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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tennessoui · 4 years ago

Note

I’m obsessed with all your fics and you but the a/b/o fic with a pregnant obiwan is killing me I love the floof so much

so happy you like the roadtrip au as it's one of my favorites too!!!

have about 2k more because youre awesome <3

(squick: a/b/o)

They’re somewhere in eastern Ohio when Anakin clears his throat and turns down the music. Obi-Wan’s back in the front seat with him, munching on a stick of beef jerky he’d never in a million years eat if it hadn’t been the most appetizing thing in that last gas station. Obi-Wan hates these cravings, can’t make sense of them at all, seeing as he hasn’t even eaten beef in fifteen years.

Anakin had just laughed and bought five different flavors, just to make sure Obi-Wan had something he liked.

All the rest of the food is in the back on his nest, which makes Obi-Wan a little grumpy because the only thing that should be on his nest is him and Anakin, but it’s not like there’s anywhere else for the food to go. Obi-Wan needs all the room in his seat to stretch out his legs, and if they put the food in the trunk then they’d have to stop every hour or so for Obi-Wan to get out and get it, which wouldn’t work at all, because Anakin doesn’t like it when Obi-Wan leaves the car, even if it’s just to walk around the side of the car to the trunk.

So the food is in his nest and Obi-Wan is coping with that intrusion fairly well. There’d only been some light pouting about it before Anakin had offered to keep it beneath his feet, but that would be too dangerous to even really consider, and Obi-Wan had shut up. His alpha would just be stupid enough to try it, too, if he thought that’s what he really wanted.

But. Obi-Wan’s munching on a long piece of beef jerky like it’s a carrot, and he’s thinking about what sort of things he should be eating for the sake of the baby, when Anakin turns down the music and clears his throat.

At first, Obi-Wan thinks this is because this is his music hour, and Anakin is just tired of listening to it.

But the alpha is tapping nervous beats on the steering wheel, not in time with the song at all, and it makes Obi-Wan pay attention.

“So you never told me what this alpha was like,” Anakin says, staring straight ahead. “This...uh.”

“Set,” Obi-Wan supplies.

Anakin’s proud jaw flexes and he purses his lips as he changes lanes. No one’s coming from behind them and they’re not about to pass anyone, but Obi-Wan’s a terrible driver, so he’ll give Anakin the benefit of the doubt.

“Right,” the alpha says. “Set. You never told me what Set was like.”

Obi-Wan takes a bite of his jerky so he doesn’t have to respond right away.

The truth is, he doesn’t particularly remember what Set had been like, other than surprisingly eager to get into his pants. He’d smelt vaguely like leather and rain, but what in Seattle didn’t smell vaguely like rain?

He’d looked like Anakin in the low light of the bar. He’d had the same jaunt to his nose, the same thick eyebrows. Almost--but not quite--the same color of hair. He’d been an alpha who looked like Anakin but looked at Obi-Wan the way Anakin never would.

And that had made Obi-Wan indefensibly weak.

“Ah,” he says instead of saying any of this. “I…”

“Never mind,” Anakin decides just as suddenly as he’d spoken. “You don’t have to tell me. If you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” Obi-Wan trails off, unsure of how to continue. Anakin’s tense on the other side of the car, and his scent is heavy and everywhere. “It’s just that we didn’t....ah.” He clears his throat and looks out the passenger window. “We didn’t talk much.”

The car swerves just slightly. Anakin must be tired. They’ve been on the road for nine hours, with the frequent stops calculated in.

“I think we should stop soon for the night,” Obi-Wan proposes when Anakin makes no move to say anything else.

“You didn’t talk much?” is the alpha’s reply. The tone is unreadable.

Obi-Wan blinks, his hands finding their way to his belly as he looks over at his alpha. Unreadable usually means angry when it comes to Anakin, but Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why.

“You just...what, you just saw him across the room making drinks and that was enough? Skilled with his hands, was he?”

Obi-Wan inhales sharply. They’ve been friends for so many years that they’re comfortable enough around each other to make jokes about their sexual preferences and partners. But this isn’t a joke. This has teeth and Obi-Wan’s already feeling sensitive. “I just...I was lonely,” he mutters, turning his body away from the alpha. “He reminded me of something, I don’t know. He was sweet. And clever and he made it clear what he wanted.”

Anakin draws in a breath, but Obi-Wan doesn’t particularly want to hear anything else. “I want to be done for the day now,” he tells the alpha as a blue sign with the next exit’s hotel options flash by them. “Please stop at the next exit.”

For a second, Obi-Wan isn’t sure if Anakin will, but the alpha surprises him by slowing down and taking the exit.

It’s nothing special, the motel they find. Feeling a little bit angry and childish about it, Obi-Wan demands that Anakin stay in the car while he goes and gets them a room. His alpha’s nostrils flare as the tendons in his neck stand out, but he agrees.

Good. He can stink up the car with his pheromones while Obi-Wan gets things done. Typical alphas.

Despite what Anakin seems to think will happen if he lets Obi-Wan out of his sight for longer than five minutes, the attendant at the hotel gives him no trouble at all.

“And would you like a single or a double?” the woman asks, staring at her computer. Obi-Wan falters.

He wants to say double, because he thinks it’s necessary to reestablish lines and boundaries between himself and his al--the alpha. He doesn’t want to take advantage of Anakin, feels awful just thinking about it. He wants to say double, because they’re just two friends taking a road trip together. They can afford two separate beds.

He wants to say double.

“A single should be fine,” is what his mouth says instead.

The woman hums agreeably and keys two cards with the information. He finishes the transaction feeling as if he’s underwater. What has he done? The woman hands him the cards and he walks out of the lobby in a daze.

His alpha is already mad at him for reasons he doesn’t really understand. How mad will he be when he finds out that Obi-Wan couldn’t control his omega side again, and now he has to spend the night pressed up against him? Sure, they’ve done that before, for weeks now. But this is different. Anakin can’t just leave if he decides Obi-Wan’s become too clingy. He’d have to sleep in the car if he needed to go.

The thought pulls a distressed keen out of Obi-Wan’s throat, and he doesn’t have time to banish his anxiety from his scent before Anakin’s there. The man hadn’t even been waiting in the car where he’d left him. He’d been leaning against one of the pillars of the hotel’s entrance. Obi-Wan has the ridiculous mental image of Anakin slowly slinking closer while Obi-Wan was inside, getting out of the car to lean against the door, then moving to lean against the trunk, then to one of the columns that holds up the ceiling of the drive-in entrance. Then to the entrance itself when Obi-Wan was taking too long.

The thought makes him more distressed. Anakin is such a good, protective friend, and Obi-Wan is still taking advantage of it.

Anakin is quick to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan and pull him into his chest in the shade behind one of the potted plants just outside the sliding double doors. He sniffs at his neck and then runs his hands up and down his sides as if he’s afraid someone had pulled a knife on the pregnant omega in the ten minutes he’d been inside.

“What’s wrong, what happened,” Anakin murmurs, resting his hands on Obi-Wan’s tummy. “Did someone say something? Are you alright? Omega, Obi, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan sniffles, holding out the keys to their room. “They were…”

And then he lies. It’s about protecting himself, his child, he thinks. If Anakin leaves now, who will protect them both? He needs the alpha. More than that, he needs Anakin.

“They were out of double rooms,” he hears himself say. He grips at Anakin’s shirt with both of his hands and turns his wet eyes upward. He needs to keep Anakin looking at him and not at the mostly deserted parking lot. And Anakin’s the type of alpha who would drop anything to help a distressed omega. That’s always been Obi-Wan’s experience, at least.

“Are you…” Anakin furrows his brow and strokes over Obi-Wan’s tummy again. He’s had a fascination with it since the beginning of the pregnancy. “Are you upset you have to share a bed with me?”

“No!” Obi-Wan gasps, offended that that’s even the conclusion Anakin has drawn. “Of course not! I just...I’m sorry you don’t get the choice….” He falls silent when Anakin pushes his thumb against his lips.

“Obi, it’s alright, baby,” he murmurs. “I don’t mind, I really don’t. We’ve shared beds for years now. Why would this be any different?”

Obi-Wan pouts against Anakin’s finger, and the alpha graciously removes it. “Because...you wouldn’t be able to leave and sleep somewhere else if I’m…” he wants to say too much, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that won’t make Anakin say something he doesn’t mean out of sympathy for him,

“Didn’t we go over this already?” Anakin murmurs, petting his hair and making Obi-Wan look him in the eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Omega.”

It feels as if Anakin’s slipped in a bit of Alpha command, what with the way Obi-Wan’s body reacts to this. But what would the command even be?

“Let’s go get our stuff for the night, yeah?” his alpha says. “We can get the bed all set up in a nice nest, take a nap, and then find somewhere to eat. Are you craving anything in particular?”

Obi-Wan thinks about it as Anakin grabs his hand and leads him back to the car. Anakin takes out both their suitcases, but won’t even let Obi-Wan wheel one in.

He’s given the bag of snacks to carry instead, along with Anakin’s college sweatshirt.

“Pancakes,” he decides. “I really want pancakes.”

“Then that’s that,” Anakin smiles down at him. “Nest, then nap, then pancakes for the omega.”

“And the baby,” Obi-Wan says, framing his stomach with both hands.

Something dark flashes across Anakin’s eyes, but it’s gone before he can get a read on it. It hadn’t been anger though, he knows that for sure.

“And the baby,” Anakin agrees.

#asks #roadtrip au #squick tag: a/b/o #squick tag: mpreg #obikin #meanwhile of course anakin is just struggling with the fact that this guy got to sleep with obi-wan #after just standing and making drinks and they apparently hardly even talked???#absolutely unfair #awful #anakins trying his best to be understanding and not act like a friendzoned alpha #but its very painful

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 4 years ago

Text

What if... Family Portrait

(Excuse me while I DIE because the art deity @cacodaemonia was so incredibly kind to create a What-If version of the Fearsome Four pic that Davarax took before he was ripped away from them. Well, here you have the Devoted Dad, Mama Bear, and their Fearsome Five! The cuteness, the adorableness, the PERFECTION is killing me! Davarax’ and Dulcy’s smiles (his slightly slanted grin and her big happy one, aaaah) and their hair (I worship the floof!) and their eyes (So kind, how??) and their armour (sessayh!) and... *flails* All of it!! And sweet, adorable, big eyed Corin, still a little more timid than his rambunctious siblings... PERFECT, I SAY! And to think this is what Corin could have had... Well, in the What-if, this is what he does have!)

A hundred years ago, I promised Davarax’ POV when Dulcy was kidnapped. Apologies for the unforgivably long wait, but I hope the fact that it was meant to be four pages and ended up closer to thirteen can make up for it a little?

What If... we saw it through Davarax’ eyes?

Davarax lowers Zurf to the floor with his grip on his wrist instead of slamming him to the ground like he usually does after managing to flip him over. Letting go, he then backs up, lifts his hands into the air to acknowledge the roar of approval from the other seven Mandalorians present in the training room and nods at the mix of praise aimed his way and the mockery flying Zurf’s way.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Belitz calls out, gesturing for everyone to settle down while he walks towards Davarax. “What was that, Davarax?”

Grinning, Davarax starts backing towards the exit. “That? That I believe was a win.”

“Since when do you coddle your opponent?” Belitz demands to know and follows, trailing after the scent of possible juicy news like a Corellian hound. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m not allowed to be in a good mood?” Davarax drawls, still grinning, still backing up.

“I’ve experienced you in a good mood.” Belitz states. “This is not you in a good mood. You in a good mood is merely spraining bones instead of breaking them. This? This is something else. What happened?”

Davarax snorts amused. He will die before he tells them anything.

“It’s that woman, isn’t it? The outsider.” Pagyle shouts from the other side of the room. Her voice soaked with glee. “She’s got you soft.”

Finally reaching the exit, Davarax does an extravagant bow. “I win. I leave. See you tomorrow, losers.” And then he flees, laughing out loud at the wave of questions and suggestive howling that follows him.

They are right and they are wrong. Wrong, because Davarax ‘is’ in a good mood. Extremely good mood. Honestly, he’s drunk on happiness. And his sparring partners are right, because he does owe the glow in his chest and the smile on his lips to Dulsissia.

Davarax can’t stop himself from bringing up the memory of her looking at him with open affection, the sensation of her fingers braiding with his, as well as the lazy bliss of just having her close and feeling her breathe. And that was just the memories from last night.

He’s never felt anything like this for anyone before. He’s never met anyone like her before.

Over a year with him on a different planet and yet Dulsissia had waited for him. Davarax doubts she knows how much her messages had helped him through that year. She has no idea how many times he replayed those holos during the moments when the darkness curled up in his chest from missing her and his other three kids so much he could barely breathe. How he dreaded what he would come back home to. Every day he woke up thinking that would be the day he learned he’d lost her.

Davarax had believed her when Dulsissia said she’d wait, but life happens and he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had found someone else… but she didn’t. She kept the children safe, handled life in the Covert like she’d grown up there and welcomed him back like she had missed him every bit as much as he’d missed her. If anything, it seems like her feelings for him were even stronger.

It gives him hope. Maybe one day, please let it happen, he’ll be able to defeat the demons from her past, rebuild the trust Macero Valentis had shattered, and take his helmet off for her.

Davarax’ happiness lasts until there is a knock on his door, hours later as he’s about to get ready for the day’s training session with the children, and he opens it to find Corin and Din looking up at him with almost identical anxious facial expressions.

“Is… Is my mom here?” Corin asks in a thin voice.

Davarax frowns. “No?” It’s late afternoon, a time she usually spends with her son, and he hasn’t seen her since she left his room last night. “Why are you asking?”

Corin fidgets. “Me and Din were working on a project with Barthor. Mom was supposed to come pick me up, but she never showed. A-and when we went back to my room, she wasn’t there either.”

Unease instantly coils around Davarax’ heart. There is no way Dulsissia would forget picking up Corin. She wouldn’t. If something came up, something so serious it couldn’t wait, she would have asked Davarax or someone else to bring a message to Corin and make sure he was okay.

Something is wrong.

Corin and Din already look horribly nervous and as Davarax doesn’t want to upset them further he keeps his thoughts to himself. He clears his throat and tries to sound calm. “Okay, listen…” Davarax tries to think and not just react. “I’ll ask around. She probably got caught up in something.” He considers his options and gestures the boys inside. “You two wait here. Okay?”

Sniffling, Corin seems to be very much aware of the seriousness of the situation and simply stands there, head lowered, until Din places his arm around him and leads him into the room.

Davarax takes a step out but pauses to look back at the boys. “And, uh, don’t touch the weapons.” While he trusts them, he also can’t ignore the fact that there are explosives in his room strong enough to send them all to Mandalore That Was.

Din nods. Corin merely sniffles again.

Davarax rushes towards the people he knows Dulcy has the most contact with. Decco hasn’t seen her all day, neither had the next one he asks, but then he gets his first lead.

“I think she went above?” Ayah says, shrugging. “I saw her walking down the hallway with that basket of hers this morning.”

This makes the unease grow stronger. Davarax stalks towards the stairs and enters the city above to set course to where he knows she usually sets up her little stand to sell her cookies.

The sun is shining over Nevarro, the HUD lists the temperatures uncomfortably high, so it shouldn’t be surprising that few people are walking around, but it still fuels Davarax’ unease and makes him wonder if something had scared people indoors. He pauses for half a second when he turns the corner and sees she’s not there. Dulcy is not in her spot. There’s not a single soul in the street. His heart drops. Cold sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. She’s not there! But, his eyes focuses on the ground, but there is ‘something’ there…

Walking over, Davarax kneels down. He reaches down and brushes some sand away so he can pick up what had caught his attention.

It’s a piece of a cookie.

Staring at it, Davarax swallows down his ever increasing sense of doom and forces himself to look around on the ground. He sees more pieces. Like someone had dropped a bag of them on the ground and then stepped on it. His heartbeats feel like punches inside his chest. Fear. Raw fear. What had happened here?

“Are you looking for the nice cookie lady?” A voice asks.

Davarax looks up and sees a scruffy mercenary standing a small distance away, leaning against the wall next to him and munching away on a cookie with the few teeth he has left. Davarax stands up and drops the piece he had been holding. “Yes. Have you seen her?”

The mercenary nods, chewing thoughtfully. “She was her earlier.”

“Did you see where she went?” Davarax asks.

“The Imp took her away.” A different voice replies. It’s another mercenary. She has a small bag of Dulcy’s cookies hanging from her belt, next to grenades and what looks like small bones. She has more teeth than the other guy. A lot more teeth. Sharp ones.

“What Imp?” Davarax presses on, refusing to acknowledge how panic is starting to set in. He’d told Dulcy she was safe. He’d told her not to be afraid of going into the city because they’d know if Valentis showed up. Had Macero Valentis taken her away?

“An officer.” The first mercenary replies. “He had a whole bunch of those stormtroopers with him. Nothing we could do.” A slight frown settles between his eyebrows. “Seemed like she knew him.”

Davarax closes his eyes, forces himself to stay calm despite being horrified and enraged at the same time, then he exhales and opens them again. “Did you see where they were going?”

“The army base.” The second mercenary informs him. “I hope you find her. She’s nice.”

Thanking them, Davarax heads below again and finds the one responsible for supervising the information coming in about the Imperial movement on the planet. It is another test of his willpower when he learns that he wasn’t warned because he’d told them to keep an eye out for someone who asked around about Dulcy and Corin or the arrival of a man by the name of Macero Valentis. No one had asked around about Dulcy and Corin, and Davarax had said nothing about a Vecon Valentis. They also inform Davarax that Vecon Valentis’ ship had left in a hurry hours ago.

Seething, Davarax barely resists unleashing his anger on these idiots, who probably weren’t too concerned about the safety of an outsider, and he stalks off to the one with the power to do something about this nightmare.

His sister.

Stepping into the Forge, smacking his hand on the button to close the door, Davarax does not kneel down. His heart his thumping like crazy. Dulcy is okay. Yeah, she’s okay. Dulcy is tough. She can handle herself until he can get to her. Please let her be okay. She has to be. Davarax yanks off his helmet. “The Imps got Dulcy.”

His sister pauses in her work, the golden helmet turns and her expressionless t-visor looks at him. “I was just informed.”

Davarax takes a step forward. “We have to go after them.”

There is a moment of silence and then she lowers her hammer and sets it aside. “No.”

Blinking, Davarax did not expect that answer. Okay, she had not been thrilled about Dulcy from the second he’d brought her home, finding her weak and whimsical, but he’d taken it for granted that she’d resent Imps taking someone under her protection. “Why not?”

“She’s an outsider.” His sister replies. Her voice is as emotionless as her helmet. “She’s not a Mandalorian. She’s not a Foundling. She’s not of this Covert. I will not risk the lives of our people for her. That is not the Way.”

Now Davarax is the one who needs a moment of silence and then he finds his voice again. “What about her son?”

“The boy is your Foundling.” Is the flat reply. “According to your reports, he shows promise as a fighter.”

Davarax nods thoughtfully, knowing there is no way he can change her mind. She’s not someone who changes her mind. He should know. “I will make arrangements that he’ll be taken care of if I don’t return.” He turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” Now there is a hint of sharpness in her voice.

Davarax stops, stares at the door and tries to sort out what he’s feeling. It’s like there is an imploding star inside his chest. It’s hard to breathe. “I’m going after her.”

“You are not.” That is an order.

“I am.” Davarax turns to face his sister again. He can’t lose Dulcy. He won’t. He refuses!

“You are staying here.”

“Or what?” Davarax snarls viciously, stepping forward, hands clenching and pure rage burning in his eyes.

She lifts her hands and removes her helmet. Her dark eyes and strong cheekbones, her hair that mix of brown and red, so similar to their mother she could be her twin. There is no mercy in her gaze. “You are staying here, brother. You are not going after her. She will lead you to your death.”

Davarax does not back down one inch. She was always meant to be the one to follow in their parents footsteps and he was to be her general, but this is an order he will not obey. “I love her vod. There is only one way you can stop me and you know it.” She is going to have to beat him unconscious and he will fight her with everything he’s got. “Try it!”

Her eyes narrow a tiny bit. For her, that is a huge red flag, revealing just how angry she is. Despite her detachment to most things, Davarax knows she loves him. She lets him get away with so much, stuff no other Mandalorian would dare to try under her rule, and she will knock him out if she thinks it will save his life.

But he will never forgive her if she stops him from saving Dulcy, his heart and future, and his sister must know this because she simply puts her helmet back on and turns away from him.

She won’t stop him, but he’s on his own. It hurts, but he’s not surprised.

Davarax puts his own helmet back on and walks out of the room.

Davarax is shaking. His head and his heart is in complete chaos.

He’s dreading what Dulcy is going through. Guilt is ripping him apart. She’d trusted him and now she is being brought back to the man who had almost ruined her and her son. Macero’s temper must be terrible, judging by how terrified she’d been when she thought he’d found them due to that lone stormtrooper, and Davarax can barely breathe when thinking about what the man will do to her if he gets his hands on her.

Davarax fights air into his lungs. Focus. He cannot undo what has happened, he needs to focus on what he can do. He needs his weapons and he has to explain to Corin what has happened and...

Davarax marches back to his room.

“Uncle Vecon…?” Corin goes pale as a sheet. His eyes fill up with more tears and his little frame start to tremble. “He’s… He’s going to take mom back to father. And he’s going to be sooo angry…”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle hold of his shoulder and makes the boy look up at him. “Corin, listen to me, I won’t let that happen. Understand? I’m going to get your mom back. I promise you.” Corin looks up at him with complete trust despite the fear in his eyes. So young and yet painfully aware of the horrors his father is capable of. “You promise?”

Davarax nods, struggling to hide how much he wants to kill Corin’s father. The Galaxy would be a better place with one less monster in it. He pulls the boy in close and hugs him. “I promise.” And he fully intends to keep that promise. “But for me to do this, I need you to do me a huge favour.”

Nodding, Corin absently wipes a runaway tear from his face. “Okay.”

“What do you need us to do?” Din asks, ready to be Corin’s support pillar and Davarax feels a stab of pride as well as affection for the boy. His brave Foundling. Despite the horror he went through himself not too many years ago, Din doesn’t hesitate to support his friend. Like a true Mandalorian.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Davarax doesn’t want to mention the possibility he might not come back at all. They are worried enough. “I need Corin to stay with… a friend of mine until I get back.”

Din lowers his gaze, knowing Davarax is not talking about his parents as they have made it clear they do not like outsiders and consider Corin very much as one. “I’ll… come along. Make sure he settles in.” “Thank you.” Davarax says. He’s not entirely thrilled about what he’s about to do, but it’s his least bad option out of a bunch of worse options. “Corin, let’s go by your room and pick up some stuff for a couple of days. Okay? We have to hurry.” Corin nods, meek and affable. He’s horribly pale and looks heartbreakingly shaken, but he is holding himself together despite having lost the person who means the most to him. He’s stronger than he knows, Davarax muses. One day that boy will grow up to be a powerful warrior.

They pick up some clothes and Corin’s datapad. Davarax notices a small pile of Din’s clothing lying on a chair in a corner and wonders just how much time the kid spends with Dulcy and Corin. Then they make their way down the hallway and head towards a door he really does not want to approach.

Davarax pushes the button to signal his presence. He doesn’t want to use the comm system and risk being shut down.

Nothing.

Sighing, Davarax pushes again. He doesn’t have time for this. Every second wasted means that Valentis guy dragging Dulcy farther and farther away and closer to her former husband.

Finally the door slides open and Davarax forces his spine straight. “I need a favour.”

A heavy silence follows before there is a slight shake of a blue helmet as if to reboot his brain before he’s able to speak. “You. You are asking Dez Vizla for a favour?”

Corin and Din exchange looks behind Davarax and he can almost hear what the kids are thinking. Why on earth would he bring Corin to Dez Vizla?

Well, Barthor’s parents would never agree to take him in. Neither would Din’s parents. And while the Saxons would say yes, he’s not entirely sure Corin would survive that. Decco’s illness causes days when she has no energy and might soon end her days all together. The Fighting Corps are constantly on the move and its members have no stability for a child. Dez Vizla may be an uptight and pompous jerk who likes to talk about himself in the third person and unfortunately treats his son like an adult instead of a child, but he rarely leaves the Covert, guards his wards with his life and will never turn his back on a Foundling in need. Plus, in his quarters, Corin will also have Paz to look after him day and night. Hopefully the stay won’t be for too long, but at least Corin will be safe and cared for.

“I need you to look after Corin for a bit.” Davarax says, trying to sound calm and confident.

Dez snorts a haughty laugh. “What?” He shakes his head again, still struggling to believe what he’s hearing. “You want… What?”

“Dulcy got snatched by Imps. They took her away.” Davarax explains in a tight voice, trying hard not to upset Corin. “I’m going to get her back.” He switches to Mando’a and hopes Corin doesn’t understand what he’s saying next. ”This is serious, Dez. I need your help. Keep him safe?”

Dez stares at him for a while, entirely still and unreadable, before he finally sighs and takes a step to the side to let Corin enter. “Get inside, boy. Now.”

Corin freezes, panics, and looks up at Davarax. As expected, he responds badly to Dez’ rough personality. Davarax is about to speak but Din beats him to it.

Din gives Corin a light nudge. “I’ll come with you. It’s okay.” He sends Dez a challenging look.

Dez snorts again, amused by the glare, and gives a nod. Fine. Din can come too.

Relieved, Davarax sees the two shuffle into the Vizla quarters and tells himself it won’t be the last time he sees them. He’s going to get Dulcy and then they will all be together again.

Davarax grabs his weapons and as many grenades and explosives as he can before he sets course for the Razor Crest. His heart is still thumping so hard he can almost feel it battering against the inside of his breastplate.

If Macero Valentis is a monster, his brother might be too. What if he has hurt Dulcy? What is she thinking about right now? Does she think Davarax has abandoned her or does she find comfort in the knowledge that he’ll come for her? Is she afraid? She’s tough, no doubt about that, but courage is not the absence of fear. Only a fool would not feel fear at times. And the mere thought of her being afraid burns Davarax’ heart like acid.

Lost in a hurricane of thoughts and emotions, Davarax doesn’t hear the voice calling out his name and is a bit startled when someone grabs him just as he’s about to step outside of the Covert. Snapping his visor over, Davarax is surprised to find Paz there.

“Is it true?” Paz says, breathless and agitated. “Dulcy’s gone? The Imps got her?”

Davarax exhales. “Yeah…” He has to gather himself and appear calm once again, not wanting to worry Paz either. “But I’m going to get her back. Don’t worry. You just make sure Corin is okay.”

Paz gulps for air as his agitation increases. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? No.” Davarax blinks when the boy bolts by him and stalks out of the Covert. “Paz! Paz, get back here.”

Marching towards the Razor Crest, Paz doesn’t slow down. “I’m coming with you!”

Davarax curses and trots after him, trying to persuade him to go back. Paz makes it all the way inside the ship’s cargo hold before Davarax loses his patience and grabs his arm.

“Paz, I don’t have time for this!” Davarax makes Paz’ visor focus on him. “Dulcy is in serious trouble. These Imps are dangerous.”

“I can fight!” Paz snaps back at him, his voice both angry and shaking.

“I know you can fight.” Davarax reassures him, a little impatiently. “But you are not coming with me. Go home, Paz. Look after Corin. And the others. Go!”

“No!” Paz shouts, but his next words are soft and broken. “She has to come back. She has to.” He struggles to keep speaking. “She’s always so nice to me. To all of us.”

“I know…” Davarax whispers. Paz had been abandoned by his birth mother all those years ago and now he is ready to rush into battle and get himself killed to avoid losing Dulcy. The only woman who had cared enough to act like an actual mother to him. “I’m going to get her back, Paz. I promise. But I have to go now.”

“I’m going with you.” Paz repeats in a stubborn reply.

Sighing, Davarax knows more words are pointless. While the helmet hides Paz’ face, he knows the boy well enough to hear in his voice and read from his body language when he’s too determined to be persuaded otherwise. “Go home, Paz.” He tightens his grip on his arm and drags him out of the ship, kicking and screaming.

Paz’ fury is frightful and Davarax is fairly certain if the boy had a weapon; he would have shot Davarax when he lifts the ramp and blocks him out of the ship. He might not forgive Davarax for this, but he will be safe and alive. And that is what Dulcy would want too.

Dulcy…

-You and Corin are safe here, he’d told her.

She had trusted him when he’d said they’d know if there was danger nearby. He’d told her those words because he’d believed them too. He’d failed to take idiocy and dislike towards outsiders into consideration. The idiots hadn’t meant for any harm to come to her, they just didn’t put any effort into the safety of an outsider.

She’s okay. Dulcy has to be okay. Davarax will get to her long before Macero Valentis does. He will. He won’t fail her, or the children, not as long as he breathes. Davarax had given up on having a family of his own beyond what time he was allowed to spend with his treasured troublemakers and he had settled for being a provider for other families instead, but then Dulcy entered his life and everything changed.

Davarax’ hands shake as he starts up the Razor Crest, driven by red hot fury at the ones who had taken Dulcy away and cold dark despair at the thought of her surrounded by enemies.

He’s going to get her back.

Going after the Imp ship is part guessing, part experienced calculations and part luck. There is no way for Davarax to know their exact route or destination as he has no clue where Macero Valentis is currently located, but he knows which routes are most commonly used by Imps ships as he tends to avoid them like the plague and he has contacts to ask along the way.

It feels strange to deliberately enter areas where he is bound to meet Imp ships.

Constant attacks has left the Imp army jumpy so there are a couple of ships who take his presence and him scanning them the wrong way. The Razor Crest has to make a run for it several times and ends up with scorch marks on her hull, but that’s not enough to make Davarax stop.

He can’t.

Eventually Davarax manages to lock on to the one moving against the stream of Imp ships and with single-minded determination as if there is some place it needs to be and as fast as possible. He can’t be sure, but his heart tells him he’s found his prey and Davarax always trusts his instincts.

Unaware of baring his teeth like a furious beast and the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing up, Davarax can only register one thought: the hunt has begun.

Food and sleep have become a distant memory on this trip. When did he eat or sleep last? Yesterday? The day before? He can’t remember and Davarax doesn’t care. He simply keeps pushing the Razor Crest and himself to catch up with the Imp ship before it reaches the clutches of Macero Valentis.

Eventually he does catch up with the ship.

Others tend to shake their head at Davarax’ attachment to the Razor Crest, but he knows what she’s capable of and how to us her strengths in ways that his enemies never expect. People underestimate his ship all the time and Davarax hopes they continue to do so – as it makes his victories all the more sweeter and drastically reduces the risk to his life and his ship’s safety.

When the Imp ship slows down, for whatever reason, Davarax goes for it.

Setting loose two decoys with signals meant to impersonate much larger ships than the Razor Crest, Davarax gives a powerful boost with his engine before powering down and hoping the forward momentum will bring him to where he needs to go; the landing dock on the Imp ship’s left flank.

It’s a move he’s only done twice before and he succeeded once, but Davarax decides to risk it.

Dulcy is right there. In that ship. And Macero Valentis is not, or there would have been a second ship to accompany them. There is still time to get her back.

The Razor Crest does not fail him. She slides through the darkness, under the Imp ship’s radar and drowsy attention, their arrogance brought on by them thinking themselves superior in every way can be quite helpful, and once she’s powered back up it only takes the gentlest of nudges to make her move up to where she can latch on to one of the boarding docks.

Davarax is on his feet before the attachment to the other ship is deemed secure by the Razor Crest’s sensors. Three blasters and an unseemly amount of explosives join his arsenal hidden in his armour.

It’s time to put all of his concern and anger into his weapons.

He goes for stealth at first. He needs to know where they are keeping Dulcy. And while Davarax knows he’s a skilled fighter, he’s just one man and this ship is crawling with soldiers. He needs to be clever about this and not let his anger rule him.

He’s told Din countless times to control his anger instead of letting his anger control him, and this is one of those situations where that could be the deciding factor of the outcome of the mission.

A drowsing guard is yanked around a corner and asked for information, but the guy isn’t much help and is left hidden inside a service closet. He is soon joined by two more.

It’s the fourth guard that finally gives Davarax the answers he is looking for.

Dulsissia Valentis is indeed on this ship. They are keeping Dulcy two levels below this one, in the last cell on the left side of the prison corridor. And there are plenty of guards.

There is no way he can get to her without being detected.

Davarax lets the guard fall to the floor and draws his blasters. Controlling your anger also means to know when it is time to let it loose.

It’s time.

It kind of becomes a red haze after that. Davarax makes his way through the soldiers and guards, using blasters and grenades and his flame thrower to remove them from his path, and every step brings him closer to Dulcy.

Nothing will stop him.

Nothing.

He plants several bombs in strategic places, aiming to injure the ship’s engines and computers as well as draw attention away from himself. Once that is in place, Davarax moves towards the door leading below and gets ready.

Davarax triggers the first two bombs. The ship shakes and groans and he heads below to face the minor army placed there to guard their precious cargo.

The first Trooper he sees standing there spins around at the sound of him and freezes with surprise.

Davarax fires his blaster and moves on to take down the next before the body has hit the floor. He triggers more bombs.

The ship’s siren starts blaring. It howls its long and loud warnings on all floors.

After that, blaster shots hits Davarax’ armour, shrapnel from enemy grenades and his own stabs at him, fists and bots do their best to hurt him, even a blade or two slices through his jacket, yet he keeps moving forward. He won’t stop unless he’s dead.

A well placed grenade takes out the light on the entire level, but instead of darkness his HUD has to adjust to the backup-lights flickering on and off as it appears the electrical system itself has taken damage.

Endless amounts of guards try to stop him. All of them visibly confused as they were under the impression that they are being invaded by a large group of enemies and all they see is one Mando. They soon are too dead to appreciate the lesson Davarax is teaching them: do not mess with a Mandalorian’s family.

Davarax removes a couple of soldiers trying to kill him with a well-aimed grenade and he turns a corner to see what he’s been looking for; the prison corridor.

“He’s here!” Someone shouts in the distance.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” A voice snaps. “Don’t just stand there! Stop him!”

More soldiers rush forward to protect the owner of the voice.

Davarax removes obstacle (soldier) after obstacle (more soldiers), ignoring everything except his mission. He’s so lost in his anger and battle-haze that he’s not prepared for when he suddenly sees her there. Barely visible through the smoke and blaster shots sent his way, there is no mistaking her.

Dulcy.

Some obnoxious Imp officer is standing next to her, his one hand grabbing her arm and the other holding a blaster muzzle to her head. The officer looks scared. She does not. Her eyes are wide with surprise, yes, but her mouth softens into the faintest of smiles. Her hair is almost as wild as Raga’s and for some weird reason she’s wearing a fancy teal dress that probably costs more than the Razor Crest.

It would have eased Davarax’ anger, soothed the fire inside him, quenched his thirst for blood, seeing her standing there… if not for the blooming bruise on her face. There is a startling discolouring of the delicate cheekbone he’d trailed light fingertips over in a wordless display of love not too long ago...

Unbridled rage explodes inside Davarax. He’s going to rip Vecon Valentis apart!

Completely indifferent to the shots fired at him, Davarax merely keeps stalking towards Dulcy and the soon-to-be-dead-Imp, killing anyone who gets in his way. He’s so angry he can barely breathe. How dare they hurt her?!

A trooper jumps out of room next to him, blaster raised, but Davarax slams his elbow into the helmet so hard it shatters. He then pulls out a vibro-blades and throws it through the air and takes down the one guard left standing next to Dulcy and the Imp officer.

The red lights are still flashing, sirens are blaring, there is thick smoke in the air, and Davarax is finally standing in front of Dulcy and Vecon Valentis. The Imp now looks downright terrified.

“Don’t, Mando.” Vecon warns. “I will shoot.”

“Not if he kills you first, Vecon.” Dulcy says. She’s keeping her gaze locked on Davarax, unfazed by Vecon’s threat and the pain of her bruised face. His brave Dulcy. His heart. His light.

Not bothering to even look at Vecon, Davarax grabs the man’s hand holding on to the blaster and squeezes and twists it until he drops the weapon with a pained yelp. He’s mesmerized by Dulcy’s complete lack of fear and solid faith in him. She even uses the moment Davarax disarms her captor to break free and spin around to stand next to Davarax instead.

“Tell Macero I’m never going back. He will never see his son again. And to leave me alone. And if he comes after me or my family again, I won’t ask nicely to be left alone. I will kill him.”

‘My family’. She said ‘my family’. It might be wishful thinking from Davarax’ side, but her choosing those words instead of just saying ‘me or my son’, it almost sounds like she means… him and the children? The anger deflates as wild hope floods Davarax instead and he glances over at the amazing woman next to him.

Dulcy is glaring at Vecon, who is bending over into an awkwardly twisted position due to the grip Davarax has on him, and she looks magnificent; beauty and fury. And there is no hesitation or trace of softness in her threat. She means it, she will kill Macero, and Davarax loves her even more.

“Tell him yourself.” Vecon sneers.

Davarax is distracted, entirely focused on Dulcy, and he pays the price. The Imp moves and a sharp pain follows as he drives a blade into Davarax’ side. Grunting, Davarax reacts instinctively; he draws his blaster and shoots.

Vecon Valentis is dead.

Dulcy doesn’t care. She seems indifferent to the man being killed and her being deprived of the chance to do it herself as payback for her bruised face. All she focuses on is getting to where the blade is planted deep in Davarax’ body. “Oh. Oh no. What-”

They have to leave. Now. The blade hasn’t done lethal damage but Davarax knows he won’t be able to fight for too long with this kind of injury. Blood-loss will weaken him. He yanks the blade out and grabs her arm to redirect her frightened gaze to his t-visor. “We have to go.”

She nods, a little stunned but ready to get out of there. Good.

Picking up Valentis’ blaster, he hands it to her. “I need you to cover my back, Dulcy. Can you do that?” Blood is seeping through his underarmor and a burning pain is spreading. No time to deal with it as more guards are on their way for sure. He needs her help if they are going to make it.

She nods again. Worried, pale, but determined. She’s got his back. Just like he knew she would.

He loves her so much.

Together, they move, battle and make it back to the Razor Crest.

Stumbling into the cockpit and over to sit down in the pilot seat, Davarax brings the engines online and detaches them from the Imp ship as quick as possible. The bombs he’d set off earlier was to confuse the troops onboard and Davarax hopes they have caused enough damage to the engines for him and Dulcy to make their escape.

The Razor Crest does a slow turn, rolling over, Dulcy buckles herself into her seat, and with a strained shake of her entire hull; the Razor Crest gives a mighty kick and races off into the darkness.

-Run, Davarax pleads the ship. -Run as fast as you can, old girl. If that beast recovers enough to come after us, we’re all dead. So I need you to run with everything you got. Run!

And, again maybe it is his wishful thinking, Davarax swears he feels the ship give an extra burst and her speed increases even more as they race towards safety.

Only after forty three minutes and seventeen seconds of pushing the engines to the limit of what they can take, plus non-stop checking the radar to see if someone has decided to chase them and finding nothing, only then does Davarax dare to ease up and let the Razor Crest slow down while he leans back and exhales.

Adrenaline and stress leaves his body while exhaustion moves in.

This is also when Dulcy unbuckles herself and appears by his side to with an anxious expression on her beautiful face and her hands hovering a little undecidedly over his torso as if she can’t decide where to touch.

Her own bruised face appears forgotten to her. Davarax feels how guilt viciously collides with the relief of having her back. He reaches out, pulls Dulcy close and hugs her tight. “Are you okay?” Her bruised face is bad enough, more than bad enough, but what if… He will never forgive himself if...

“Yes, but you’re not.” Dulcy replies, too relaxed to be lying and she tries to push him away. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt, Davarax. I have to-”

Feeling her in his arms, alive and warm and there and forgiving him his failure, Davarax couldn’t care less about his own injuries. He can’t even feel them. All he can feel is her. All he cares about is her. The thought of letting her go after nearly losing her forever hurts. “In a moment.” Davarax’ throat is snared up so tight he has to whisper. “Please.”

And his heart shatters entirely when this incredible woman shivers, once, then wraps her arms around him and hugs him back. Davarax eases her over to sit on his lap where she curls as close to him as she can manage and he holds her as close as he dares.

He’d nearly lost her. This fact will haunt him for the rest of his life; a life he cannot imagine without her. She brought him out of his half-existence, comforted his children when he was unable to and Davarax had started to wake up in the mornings with hope instead of guilt and weariness.

Despite the ordeal she has been through, Dulsissia ignores her own hurt and says that they need to tell the Covert Macero will come for them so they can flee, but Davarax isn’t too worried. They have fought all kinds of governments before and won. He alone had taken on a Destroyer and gotten away with it today, just imagine what his entire Covert could do to a man stupid enough to challenge them.

Dulcy is not convinced, but they compromise and then her focus shifts to his injuries and that is something she will not compromise on. It’s odd to have someone care. Nice, but odd. He’s always tended to his injuries himself.

She fusses about his wounds and notes how Vecon held the blade all wrong to do fatal damage. His girl knows how to stab someone properly. His heart glows with pride.

Dulcy refuses to use the cauterizer and tries to order him out of the pilot seat. As much as he loves her authoritative voice, Davarax declines. He needs to keep an eye on the radar, just in case.

Another compromise is made and she ends up sitting on his lap while tending to his injuries.

It’s no big surprise when she asks about her son.

“Scared out of his mind that he’ll never see his mother again.” Davarax sighs, running his hand along her arm in an absent-minded caress. “When we get closer to Nevarro, I’ll try to reach him.”

“And the rest of the kids?”

That actually makes Davarax laugh a little “I had to physically wrestle Paz off the ship when he heard I was going. If he had a blaster, he would have shot me.” His hand rounds her shoulder and moves up her neck to cup the side of her face. “They’ve all been desperate to get you back. Like me.” It feels almost too good that she’s back. He did it. She’s here. He didn’t fail her again.

“I’m sorry.” Dulsissia mumbles, gently patting down the edges of a bacta patch on his stab wound. “I didn’t see him before it was too late. And then I just wanted them away from all of you.”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle but firm grip on her wrist, halting her movement, making her look at his visor. “This was not your fault. This was all them. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dulsissia doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe not. But the fact remains that without me stumbling into your life, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now.”

“Without me barging into yours, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s true.” Davarax replies, gently caressing her wrist. “I wouldn’t be with you. My days wouldn’t bring happy memories instead of feeling guilty all the time. I wouldn’t come home to my kids smiling instead of crying, hiding away while being terrified for their lives or without a voice because they have been screaming themselves hoarse.” His hand moves up to brush the back of his fingers across her bruised cheekbone, feeling the guilt gnaw at him again. “That’s worth more than bleeding for, cyare. That’s worth dying for.”

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and moves it down to press her lips to it. “Other than the love I felt for my son, I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” She shivers. “Don’t talk about dying because it feels like tempting fate and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Then, maybe, if you feel like that, would you…” Davarax says, tensing up a little. He had asked her to marry him and she had said no. It’s just… He wants them to be together, forever, so badly. He wants to be able to take his helmet off in front of her. He wants to kiss her lips and feel her hands on his face. He wants her to see his smile and how happy she makes him. He wants… What he wants doesn’t matter. As tempting as it is to ask her to at least reconsider, he won’t. He had asked and she had said no. Davarax is going to have to respect that.

Dulcy kissing his hand snaps him out of his thoughts just before she asks; “Would I what?”

Davarax exhales and lets go off his dream. He then tilts his head and tries to divert the conversation. “Would you let me compliment you on the dress? It’s lovely. And really brings out the colour of your eyes.” Vecon Valentis might have been a jerk, but looks to have had a sense of fashion.

Laughing, Dulsissia shakes her head and goes back to focus on cleaning and bandaging him up. “Thank you. I kind of like it myself. Impractical, but pretty. I was thinking about keeping it.”

“I think you should.” Davarax drawls, toying with the thin shoulder strap to distract himself as well. “Definitely.”

When Davarax finally manages to contact the children over the comm system, it’s both a relief and painful torture. Relief in that Corin gets to talk to his mother, hear her voice and know she is safe, same with the other children, but Davarax is also tortured by guilt upon hearing their distress and knowing he is to blame. He had said Dulcy was safe and she had been ripped away from them.

His heart aches the most, however, when Dulcy, his sweet Dulcy, makes sure she hears the voice of every child to reassure them all, like the amazing mother she is. It makes him want to collect every neglected child in Galaxy and bring them to her so they can feel happy again too.

In the five hours it takes for them to return to Nevarro, Davarax persuades Dulcy to return to his lap and merely drowse in his arms until they land. It feels so good to hold her. He will happily share her with the children when they get back home, but for these hours, knowing everyone is safe, he will allow himself to be selfish and savour every second where it is just the two of them.

Stepping inside the Covert, Corin is in his mother’s arms before the door has closed behind them. The boy is clinging to his mother with desperate determination, eyes squeezed tight and his entire frame shaking. Dulcy is struggling to keep from crying and she’s stroking and kissing his dark hair, his cheeks and his forehead. It’s the kind of open affection that Davarax can only dream about...

Which means he is not prepared for Din running over to wrap his arms around his waist and burying his face to his stomach with a half-choked sound. His grip is frightfully strong. Surprised and humbled by the rare display of affection, Davarax runs a gentle hand over Din’s hair. While Din has eagerly soaked up every hug and encouraging pat Davarax has given him, this is the first time he has initiated a hug. It almost feels like Din had been equally scared of losing him as Corin had been about losing his mother. That… It’s…

Glancing over at Dulcy, trying to blink away the fog that appears to be assaulting his eyes, Davarax sees Raga and Barthor have joined Corin in her embrace. It seems wrong that Din should have to settle for him so he gently ushers the boy over to Dulcy as well and loves her even more at how quickly and naturally she includes Din with the others.

It would be perfect if only… Davarax’ heart sinks as he sees Paz standing there alone, arms crossed, older than his years. He’s not been the same since the battle at the new Covert. It’s a part of growing up as a Mandalorian, but it still hurts to witness. Yet another thing he can’t protect them from.

Lost in thought, Davarax is then again not prepared as Dulcy unleashes Corin, Raga and Barthor in his direction and they all throw themselves at him with gusto. Davarax grunts at the impact when Raga actually jumps at his chest, Barthor smacks into his left hip and Corin to his right, Din’s arms goes back around his waist, all of them grabbing a hold and hugging him. Din laughs while Davarax staggers a step backwards and tries to pet each head, support Raga to prevent the little space-monkey from falling and not dislodge any one of them at the same time.

Dulcy walks over to stand in front of Paz. “No hug?”

“Kids first.” Is the stern reply.

She simply pulls him close, hugs him even closer and whispers something. Something that has Paz relax and hug her back. That woman must surely be a Jedi witch…

But Davarax doesn’t get to linger on the sight or speculate on her magical powers as he’s quickly distracted by Raga climbing up to perch on his shoulder and he has to support her with one hand while Corin decides to hang off his other arm, using him like a swing like he’d done during their initial meeting back on that smoke-covered planet. Din actually laughs.

“Maybe we can head inside?” Davarax asks, his voice a little strained under the children enthusiastically mistaking him for a playground.

Dulcy looks over at them and smiles like the angel she is. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They walk towards Dulcy and Corin’s room. She reminds him of the need to warn the Covert about the danger of Macero Valentis, but Davarax is in no hurry to see his sister just yet. And Davarax does not believe for one second that Valentis could be a threat to the Covert. If the foolish man was to try to attack, they would eat him alive.

Inside the room there is a whirlwind of exchange of information. Dulcy is as curious about how Davarax had been able to find her as the children are about what had happened to her. Corin gently touches the bruise on his mother’s face with agonized tenderness.

“It still sucks that Davarax had to go alone.” Raga states angrily. “He even had to defy ‘her’ to do it!”

Startled, Davarax doesn’t want Dulcy to know he’d raised his voice to his sister. “It’s late.” He states, stealing their attention away from Raga’s words. “You kids should head home.”

There is nothing but disappointed faces among the children, but there is one who looks downright… depressed. “Can…” Din clears his throat, shifts his position awkwardly. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Corin nods. “He has bad dreams, mom. He dreamt the droids got you.”

Davarax’ heart clenches. He knows how tormented Din has been by the memory of how his birth parents had perished. He’s seen the raw fear in him whenever the boy sees an android. And when Dulcy sends him a pleading look, Davarax isn’t difficult to persuade. Sighing, he nods and starts to contact Din’s Mandalorian parents via his vambrace. “I’ll ask them” And they will say yes. He won’t settle for anything else. The boy needs a little cheering up after all this.

That triggers a landslide of requests to stay as well. Davarax adores those kids for how Raga meekly promises to behave and Paz finally reverting to his real age by demanding to stay if she gets to stay, yet Barthor’s quiet resignation awakens the anger in Davarax.

“My mom will never let me sleep over.” Barthor scoffs with bitter conviction.

Davarax feels his eyes narrow. “Want to bet?” Barthor is one of his kids. If Barthor wants to join the sleep-over, then Barthor will sleep over as well. He is just about to press the final button to contact Din’s parents when his beloved witch strikes again.

“How about… we all spend the night in Davarax’ room?”

Davarax’ face snaps up to stare at her. She couldn’t have surprised him more if she’d slapped him across his bare face with a fish. “Say what now?” Nobody said anything about them sleeping over in his room, with explosives in every corner and the memory of Dulcy’s soft whimpers in his bed.

Din lights up with utter delight. “Oh, can we?”

Davarax clenches his jaw, Dulcy gives him the sweetest smile of fake innocence, and he folds with a heavy sigh. As if he can deny her or these kids anything. “Just… let me talk to your parents first.”

As expected, Din’s parents give their permission without much trouble. They trust Davarax.

Davarax fears he suffers permanent hearing damage after connecting with the Saxons and quickly blurts out his question.

There is a moment of silence before Raga’s mother states: “Anything she breaks, I’m not paying for it.”

“It’ll be on me.” Davarax replies, and then she starts screaming at either her husband or her sons and he just shouts his goodbye and disconnects.

Dez is a problem because of course he is. That man thrives on being difficult, especially around Davarax. If Davarax states something obvious, Dez will disagree just because he said it.

“A sleep over? Are you kidding me? My boy has put on the helmet. He doesn’t do kid stuff like that. I will not have you make my son soft, Davarax.”

“Dez…” Davarax has to take a deep breath and not lose his temper. “It’s a sleep-over. All his friends will be here. Don’t be such a hard-ass. Let the boy have some fun.”

“We are Mandalorians. We don’t do fun. Fun doesn’t make you into a great warrior.”

“A little fun never harmed a kid. He’s a kid, Dez. Helmet or not, he’s still a kid. Let him have this.”

“He should be training.”

“He is training. Every day. That boy is dedicated and you know it. He’s among the best fighters I’ve ever seen. Let. Him. Have. This.”

They bicker back and forth for a while and eventually Davarax manages to wear down the cantankerous man by a combination of nagging and bribery. It’s worth it when he can give Paz the thumbs up to show he’s allowed to stay as well.

And yet Dez Vizla is nowhere near as frustrating as Barthor’s parents. There is no room for negotiations, no compassion or empathy, just a stubborn ‘no’. Davarax tries everything. He flatters, he tries to bride, he tries to reason with them, he even gets dangerously close to pleading, but it doesn’t work. They won’t budge. They will not allow their son to have one simple sleep-over.

And that is when Davarax turns mean. Dangerously mean.

Thirty seconds later, he can give a very surprised Barthor a thumbs up.

That is how they end up gathering all there is off mattresses and blankets and pillows and march over to Davarax’ room. After hoarding and hiding away his weaponry, Davarax helps to arrange their haul all so his kids can be comfortable before he steps up next to Dulcy. “The kids are set. You take the bed. I’ll, uh…” He scouts for where he can fit on the floor, have a good view of the door in case of danger and be close enough to the kids to keep an eye on them as well.

“You and me are sharing the bed.” Dulcy states, as if it is the most natural thing in the world and her words doesn’t hit him in the gut like she’d fired a slugthrower. “The bed is for old people. Like us.”

“I said I was sorry.” Barthor groans. “Let it go.”

“Never.” Dulcy snaps, then she sends Davarax, who can’t stop staring at her, a puzzled look. “What?”

What? She’d just said they would share a bed, a bed with sinful memories, with the kids in the room and she’s asking him ‘what’?? Davarax shakes his head and looks over at the kids again to calm his stuttering heart. She can’t be that oblivious, can she? Well, he can handle this. He can-

“And would you mind taking the armour off?” Dulcy continues to torture him. “You can, inside the Covert, right?”

Closing his eyes, wondering what he’d done wrong to deserve this sweet punishment, Davarax manages a tiny nod.

He handles it like a champ. Davarax removes his armour, settles himself on the bed closest to the door to keep an eye on it and the children to ensure they are safe. Din often has nightmares and might need calming down, though he currently looks quite comfortable between Corin and Paz. Davarax got this. He can handle this.

Dulcy curls up next to him and rests her head on his chest.

He… He’s got… got this…

After a while, Dulcy lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to breathe eventually, you know.”

“No.” Davarax declares. She’s too close and too tempting for him to dare to breathe.

Dulcy giggles and that catches Corin’s attention. He pops his head up and asks what is so funny. If only he knew. Of course Davarax’ evil witch isn’t content with tormenting him solely by being this close to him. Oh no. She hoists herself up on her side and places her hand on his stomach. Her fingers dig gently into the fabric of his shirt and making it slide across his skin in a deliberate caress. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep”

Oh. Oh, this means war. Davarax reaches down and grabs a good handful of that divine behind of hers. He grins and savours her strangled squeak like the finest battle trophy.

Corin’s head pops up again. “Mom?”

“It’s fine, Corin.” Dulsissia takes revenge by prodding two fingers next to one of Davarax’ wounds

He jolts with a muffled grunt. Oh, she is really pushing her luck right now...

Corin’s head goes down again.

Davarax’ takes a firmer grip on her behind, hitching her abruptly closer, so she places a hand to an unharmed area on his chest to push herself away. Davarax counters by using his other hand to grab the one she has to his chest and removing it before pulling her even closer. She squirms to free herself while they both struggle to muffle their laughter. Davarax can’t believe this is happening. He wasn’t this childish even when he was a child.

Paz’ helmet comes up and he lets out a very annoyed; “SHHH!”

Davarax and Dulsissia both withdraw their hands amidst quiet laughter.

“Sorry.” Dulsissia stutters through choked giggles.

“Yeah, sorry.” Davarax adds, struggling hard to silence his own snickering.

Grunting, still very much annoyed, Paz lies back down again.

As the laughter calms and a warm peace settles in instead, Dulsissia finds Davarax’ hand. She takes it, lifts it up to hold it between their chests, and smiles as their fingers begin their slow, pointless dance of just touching and braiding and feeling like they had done that very special night.

Looking at her face, seeing the warm affection in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks and the trust in her features, Davarax considers just how lucky he is. How the smallest change in the past might have lead both him and Dulcy on very different paths. How he could have never known the happiness he’s feeling now.

Coincidence or fate, he doesn’t care, it had brought him and Dulcy together and nothing is ever going to tear them apart.

Not his sister.

Not Macero Valentis.

Not even a nightmare of a mercenary who specializes in collecting trophies...

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #what if au #Davarax #Dulsissia #Corin Valentis #Din Djarin #Paz Vizsla #Raga Saxon #Barthor #Fearsome Five #cacodaemonia is an art deity #I HAVE SO MANY FEELS OVER THIS IMAGE

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bizarredalek · 4 years ago

Text

Floof

Thirteen x reader

Word count: 2804

Warning: uhhh cuteness overload as a warning?

Summary: The Doctor is drawn to how soft and fluffy your hair is. All she wants to do is touch it, and maybe make hers as fluffy as yours is

A/N: Who knew putting a fic on Tumblr was so confusing asdfghjkl Thank you Jenny and Elle for helping me with this ily both SO much

The Doctor couldn't figure it out. There was just something about you. Every time you walked into a room, you'd draw her attention from whatever it was that she was doing prior, which is something that rarely happens. And then one day, it just clicked.

You had come out of the shower one day; the scent of your favourite shampoo was an exact giveaway. You were happy to be able to wash off the sweat and dirt that had clung to you for the last few adventures. Your hair was freshly blow-dried, and it looked soft. Really soft. There had been times where you would be talking with her, and she'd have to fight every urge to just run her hand through it. She wanted to know what it felt like, how soft it'd be.

There have been small instances where she had gotten to touch your hair. Moments like when you would run past, and she would feel the feather-light touch. Or when you'd come up and hug her, and all she could smell, and feel was you. Warmth surrounding her, your hair that she deemed softer than anything in the Universe would be pressed against her cheek. It took every ounce of willpower for her never to let you go and bury her face into your hair. Just one look at you melted all her stress away.

You weren't oblivious to the Doctor's distractions either. Every time you two talked, you could see her focus elsewhere. Her hands would clench by her sides like she was trying to stop herself from reaching out. It wasn’t terribly hard to figure out what was distracting the Doctor so much, she was never all that subtle. You saw the way her eyes would follow you around the room. More like she was looking at something specifically on your head. Your assumption was right one day when you bounded excitedly over to the Doctor in the console room to ask about the newest adventure you were about to take, and she remained focused on your tresses.

One night, the Doctor returned to the console room with a cup of tea in hand to see you sitting by the open front doors with your legs swinging out and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. The Galaxy looked beautiful with you sitting in front of it, with the pinks, purples, and blues lighting your face. It took the Doctor’s breath away. Walking closer the Doctor noticed that your appearance was a little disheveled. Clothing ruffled out of place and hair sticking up at odd angles, but it wasn’t as if you had a nightmare, or something disturbed you during your sleep. It seemed more like you just rolled out of bed and came here.

She called your name softly, now standing behind you. You tilted your head up towards the voice.

“Hello Doctor,” you greeted with a smile.

“What are you doing awake?” She asked. The Doctor had settled herself beside you, her tea forgotten behind her.

“I don’t know,” you replied, sliding over to make more room in the doorway. “I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I came here,” You turned your gaze back to outside the Tardis. “It’s very beautiful.”

The Doctor nodded. “Yeah, it is. It’s probably one of my favourite Galaxies to just drift in, other than the Milky Way of course. The clashing colours are just breathtaking.”

You nodded in agreement. The Doctor started to ramble about the stars in a speech and speed that flew over your head faster than any breeze, but you didn’t mind. She would start talking animatedly, moving her hands as she would point to different areas in space.

You thought it was cute. You could’ve listened to her talk for hours, but your earlier exhaustion crept up on you and you felt your eyes closing, falling asleep to the sound of the Doctors voice.

The Doctor noticed your head dropping a bit before you’d snap back up, your eyes threatening to shut again. Your shoulders had been slouching down and she was worried you were going to end up rolling out of the Tardis.

“You know,” she started, her voice jerking you awake to give her your full attention. “If you’re tired you should go back to bed.”

You shook her head stubbornly, but the Doctor could see how tired you were getting. She debated just carrying you to your bed as you probably wouldn’t be able to put up a very big fight or she could wait until you fell asleep before carrying you. She opted for the latter; she was quite enjoying looking at the Galaxy with you right now. She felt her hearts stop a moment later when your weight suddenly slumped against her side, your head on her shoulder.

“Doctor,” you mumbled sleepily. “Can I lay on your lap?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, her two hearts beating so fast she feared that you would be able to hear them from your place against her side. How could she deny your gentle request though? So, she nodded with soft spoken “yes”. Your eyes brightened hearing her reply.

You slid away from the Doctor to make room so you could lay down comfortably. The Doctor, however, immediately missed your warmth and had to stop herself from making a sound of protest. The warmth returned when you placed your head on her thigh, your blanket rested on top of your body. You sighed contentedly.

“Comfy?” she asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

You only replied by cuddling further into the Doctor’s warmth, pulling the blanket up so it rested just under your chin.

Not wanting to take your hands out of your blanket burrito, you tried to blow your hair out of your face The Doctor looked down in amusement at your struggle. Her hand eventually found its way to your face, gently brushing the piece of hair from your eyes behind your ear. Her eyes widened at the feel of your hair.

“It’s so soft,” she spoke softly to herself out loud unaware you were still partially awake as she brushed her hand through your hair again.

You hummed and your body fully relaxed at the Doctor’s fingers raking through your locks. “Shampoo, conditioner, and blow dry equals fluffy and soft.”

The Doctor chuckled as she continued mindlessly playing with your hair. Her nails would lightly scratch against your scalp, causing you to sigh, and then switch to brushing your hair from the base of your skull to the end. She would hit the occasional knot, but you didn’t shift at her gentle pulling and smoothing it out. Occasionally, the Doctor would stop her actions thinking that you were fast asleep with how quiet and still you were, but you proved her wrong when your face would scrunch up with a disappointed groan.

“No,” you whined.

Your glare was not all that deadly or threatening in any way. In fact, it was more adorable than anything in the Doctor’s mind. Your eyes were dazed and unfocused, and you couldn’t hold your glare together very well. It was more of a grumpy squint than anything.

The Doctor merely laughed and caved in. “Okay, okay.”

You turned your head back to its place and sighed happily when you felt her hand return. The Doctor was absolutely convinced in her mind that if you were a cat, you would be purring.

The Doctor didn’t know how long you two stayed there in the doorway. Her one leg swung outside the box while her other made sure that you didn’t accidently roll out of the Tardis, that would certainly be a rude awakening.

The Time Lord was lost in her thoughts as she ran her fingers over your scalp the action calming for both you and her, barely paying attention to the soft sigh you let out. And any tension left in your body vanished, your entire weight settled against the Doctors leg. She thought of how glad she was to have you aboard the Tardis, how you always seem to know what she was feeling and how to make her feel better again. She didn’t know what would’ve happened if she didn’t have you as a companion.

She was brought back into her thoughts when she felt your breath against her leg, you’re breathing deep and steady telling her that you had officially fallen asleep. She gently and slowly raised your head to not wake you and picked you up with one arm holding your shoulders, cradling you to her chest with your head tucked into her neck, and her other arm was underneath your knees. After confirming that you had not stirred, she carried you down the halls to your room. The Tardis was kind enough to move your room closer, so the Doctor didn’t have to go wandering the halls finding your room.

“Can you open the door for me, girl?” the Doctor said quietly, trying in everyway possible to make sure you stayed sleeping.

The Doctor smiled when the door opened and walked inside. She placed you down on your bed and smiled at the small whine you let out when she released her hold on you. The Doctor knelt by your bed and brushed your hair out of you face. She pressed her lips against your forehead, whispering a soft goodnight before leaving your room to let you sleep in peace.

Once exiting your room, the Doctor immediately had a plan form in her mind. The Tardis disapprovingly hummed down at her Thief.

“It’ll be fine!” She brushed the machine off, already heading down the hallway to put her plan into action.

That morning, you were hanging in the console room chatting with Yaz, when you heard a voice calling your name behind you. You looked down the hall to see the Doctor jogging towards you, her hair different than what it usually looks like.

“Y/N!” she said excitedly, bounding up the stair to you.

“Doctor,” you greeted with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she greeted back, grinning ear to ear. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded. “I did actually. I don’t remember getting back to my room, though.”

Now that she was closer you could see her hair looked a lot more different than her usual style, almost as if she put way too much hair products in than necessary. Her hair was all… frizzy, like it was full of static. You were surprised there wasn’t anything magnetic on her.

“Doctor,” you started, unable to look away from the mess she had created on her own head. “What... what did you do?”

“Well, I was thinking on what you said last night about how you got your hair all nice and soft and I thought I’d give it a go myself!” She grinned at you.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at her explanation. She just looked so cute and proud of herself with her achievement.

“It looks like you used a bit too much, Doctor,” you told her. You reached your hand up and ran your hand through her blonde locks being able to feel exactly how staticky it felt through your fingers.

The Doctor blushed under your touch. “Well, I-it’s a little bit different than when I was a man.”

You hummed in thought. “Well, why don’t I show you how to properly take care of it, and try to fix it? You looked like you used the whole bottle of shampoo.”

The Doctor ducked her head in embarrassment. “It may have been a few bottles actually.”

You laughed, reaching down to grab the Doctor’s hand to lead her away from the console room. You both waved bye to Yaz. She laughed and waved back before going off to find the others.

“Thank you,” the Doctor muttered out. You had her sit on the bathtub edge while you stood behind her. You ran your hands through her hair to see the exact amount of damage she did.

You hummed in response. “Of course! Next time maybe don’t use so much product.” You teased her.

She rolled her eyes even though you couldn’t see it. You told her the basics of hair care for women, how much shampoo and conditioner to use “The whole bottle right?” She asked.

“No! Not the entire thing! At least a tiny handful is enough,” you reached for the face moisturizer sitting on the bathroom sink.

“Moisturizer?” The Doctor asked looking at the bottle in your hand.

You shrugged. “There are a few different ways to deal with static hair, but this is the only thing I had on hand and I’m sure you wouldn’t like me rubbing a laundry detergent sheet all over your head. Moisturizer just happens to also protect your hair to minimize any.”

“Have you done this before?” She asked. She trusted you, of course, but was still curious.

“Yeah, kind of,” you replied. “I would do this for my siblings. They also would overdo it with the hair products, and I found that this works.”

The Doctor nodded and you went to work. You dabbed the cream in your hands and rubbed them together before applying it to the Doctor’s hair. The Doctor leaned her head back into your touch and sighed, she could see how you fell asleep so easily with her doing it the night before, she felt herself drifting to sleep under your touch. You smiled at her reaction. You tilted her head up to get easier access to the hair in front of her face, her eyes were closed and her breathing had steadied out. You quickly finished off the Doctor’s hair, you didn’t want to disturb the Doctor’s rest yet she just looked so adorable all relaxed. Your thumbs lightly brushed over the Doctor’s cheeks; the stress lines that had been so clearly on her face faded away with every motion.

After you finished, you leaned down and pressed your own lips down on her forehead and then to her cheek. “You’re all done now, Doctor,” you whispered, not fully wanting to break the silence.

The Doctor’s eyes fluttered open with a hum. You helped her stand and took in your work. The moisturizer worked wonders for her, it was no longer full of static, nor did it look frizzy and untidy. It looked closer to how it was before the ‘incident’.

She brushed her own hand through her hair and beamed. “It feels a lot better! Thank you!”

You gave your own smile. “You are so welcome, Doctor.”

The Doctor moved forward and wrapped you in a hug and you gasped in surprise. You’ve never really been hugged by the Doctor, so it was quite a surprise to be suddenly held in her arms. All you could feel, and smell was her. Her coat radiated warmth and she smelled like the lavender shampoo she had used earlier, and a little bit of the tea she had this morning. You were surround by everything of the Doctor and you loved it.

You knew how hard it was for the Doctor to really express herself, so you were patient. You were there for whatever she needed. Be it a travel companion, a friend or an impromptu hair stylist for a disaster.

The Doctor pulled back from the embrace. You hated how cold you felt being out of her arms. You almost went to hug her again. Almost. Instead, you held out your arm to her.

“Shall we go plan our next adventure, Doctor?” you asked.

She laughed and looped her arm through yours. “Lets,” she said.

You listened to her list of different planet names and what was on them as the two of you left the bathroom. You could never understand her when she spoke at a million miles per hour, but it was nice to see her talk about something so excitedly. She listed off places that would light sky lanterns every night or a planet that was covered in snow that when the sun shined on them it would look like the planet was covered in sparkling diamonds. They all sounded amazing, but honestly you were just happy traveling with the Doctor. It didn’t matter where you went, or when, you were just happy being with her.

She led you back towards the console room. She gestured for you to place your hand on the lever with her. “So, where do you want to go?” She asked you.

You thought for a minute. Anywhere, you said to yourself. Anywhere if it’s with you. But you knew she wouldn’t accept that, so you looked up and said, “Surprise me.” And her answering grin lit up the room, and the two of you pulled the lever down, and off into space you went.

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