#AND have her child become a warrior just so they could pull her out the trenches

[pinkmirth]

i will forever be in awe about how reiner could have two fugly, hateful bitch-ass parents and still turn out so gorgeous . . . karina ate that one thing!

[cassie48]

• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader

Pt 3

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The day after Paul had made his motivational speech to the Fremen about turning Arrakis into dune again, you two were in your shared room at night.

You sat at your little vanity, brushing through your hair, preparing yourself for bed. You saw Paul go over his plans at his desk, standing above it all.

You couldn’t stop worrying about what would happen tomorrow. What if Paul got hurt? What if something bad happened and you were left all alone? It’s all suddenly became too much for you, as you began to cry, dropping the brush in your hand.

Paul’s head shot up, very shocked at your sudden crying. He quickly left his desk. “My love?” He asked as he walked over to you.

You held your hands out to him, hiccuping and crying as you did. God, you have been so emotional these last few months.

He finally reached you, he picked you up, and sat you on his lap, trying his best to calm you down.

“I’m sorry paul. I’m just so worried about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. What happens if something bad happened to you, and I’d be left all alone!” You said suddenly crying even heavier.

Paul wiped away your falling tears, hugging you close to him. “Sweetheart, nothing will happen. I’d never dream on leaving you. Your seven months pregnant with my child. I’d 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 leave you alone” he snarled, hating the image of it.

You nodded into his chest, slightly calming down. He toyed with your hair, running his hands through it. “Your just tired, you’ll feel better in the morning” he told you, placing his hand on your big bump, which was covered by a night dress.

“Ok” you whispered, your eyes becoming heavy as you drifted off to sleep in his lap. He smirked at you. The pregnancy had really taken a toll on your body. You were constantly crying, extremely needy and most of all, falling asleep almost anywhere. But 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱. He loved how you had to rely on him. This child will definitely have siblings.

He carefully picked you up, bring you over to your shared bed, placing you under the covers delicately. Smiling down at you and giving you one last kiss to the forehead, before going to check his palms once more.

The following day was eventful to day the least. You had went with Paul as he checked with Chani and Stilgar to make sure they were ready. As soon as the battles were to begin, he brought you into a hidden room, with five Fremen warriors.

“Are you alright?” He asked cupping your cheek gently.

You nodded “promise you’ll come back to me?” With a pout.

“Promise” is all he said before pulling you into a passionate kiss, eventually pulling away when he remembered he had to fight a battle.

He turned to the Fremen who were to protect you “if any of you let any harm come her way, I will slit all of your throats” he said giving them a look of rage and disgust.

You shared one last smile with him before he left. You hadn’t heard anything till ten minutes later, you heard Paul yell “long live the fighters” in the Fremen language.

After that many bombs and guns were firing, you were hoping none were at Paul. Your heart was racing as you sat there for over an hour 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆.

Eventually, after what felt like centuries, you heard running in the hall outside your room. You prayed it wasn’t a harkonnen, god only knows what they’d do to you.

“Y/N!” You heard Paul yell from outside.

You quickly jumped up and walked as fast as you could to meet him. When you did he pulled you into a tight hug, before kissing you passionately, kissing all down your neck and face. The Fremen behind you looked away in fear.

“We’ve done it! We’ve won, but I need to challenge the emperor for the throne” he said kissing your cheek.

You nodded as he guided you to a meeting room where all the Fremen had been since the battle. You cling onto Paul, as people whizzed past you left right and centre.

Chani had came up to hug you, telling you she was glad you were alright. You hugged her back, telling her the same.

Paul took you back into his arms, you two resting your heads on each others, savouring the moment.

“You know I’ll always love you, for as long as I live and even in death. I need to challenge the emperors throne, but I need you at my side to rule, can you do that?” He asked both hands on your waist.

“Of course Paul. Wherever you are, I will be” you told him, pecking him on the lips slightly, making him smile.

After a moment Paul turned to the Fremen, yelling “bring my prisoners”.

Only a moment later, you saw feud-rautha, the emperor and his daughter, and the Reverend mother who had taught lady Jessica come in.

Paul explained that he wanted to claim the throne as his. All of them seemed shocked at his decision. The reverend mother was not happy with him at all.

“Consider what your about to do Paul atreides”she began

“Silence!” Paul yelled using the voice on her.

Feyd ruatha and Paul had to battle, in order for him to claim the throne. Paul walked over to you grabbing the knife from beside you and quickly kissing your cheek, telling you it would be ok.

He stood in front of Feyd ruatha, putting the knife against his heart and head saying “may thy knife chip and shatter.

Feyd Ruatha only smiled in response before repeating “ may 𝗧𝗵𝘆 knife chip and shatter” before launching at Paul.

The two battles for what felt like hours, you heart going 200 bpm. After a minute Paul had been stabbed just under the top of his arm. He began breathing heavy, but he remained to be ok. This triggered your silent crying.

Feyd Ruatha noticed this before saying

“Is this your little wife? Perhaps I’ll take her as mine when I kill you, and I’ll kill that child inside her.” He said with disgust.

This set off Paul as he lunged forward stabbing him in the heart. Your breathed a sigh of relief.

“No one, talks about her that way.” he said before yanking the knife out of his now dead body.

A moment later Paul walked up to the emperor and his daughter.

The emperor smiled nervously “take my daughters hand you two can rule the empire” with a sly look towards you.

Your heart caught in your throat, but Paul quickly made your worries vanish with his quick reply.

“How dare you disrespect her like that. Only the woman bearing my son, will sit my side” he said before telling the Fremen to lock the away again, and that he’d kill them later.

The room erupted in cheers, Paul had done it. He was actually now emperor.

He walked up to you, blood smeared on his face as he took your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss, hugging his body against yours.

“I was scared you’d accept the offer” you teased with a pout.

“I will only ever love you” he said laying his hand on your pregnant belly, kissing you once more.

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

I think this will be the end of this little series and I hope you all enjoyed!!

[itsabouttimex2]

Fiery Reunion: Part Two

(Part One) (Part Two)

From the moment the Demon Bull King opened his eyes, he had assumed the worst. How could any father not? After five long centuries spent in stone slumber, he had awoken to nearly everything a conqueror could desire.

His prodigal son, grown and proud. His loyal wife, composed and ever-gorgeous. An army of reminiscent machines ready to obey his every whim, obedient and powerful.

All that a man could crave stood before him, with one singular exception. He had scanned the area subtly, eyes narrow and intense, searching for his youngest child, who was very conspicuously absent.

And when his search came up empty, he considered you dead.

It was not an easy fact to accept, but his children had not been born equal.

His son had come into this world with a dangerous abundance of power, so great that it had to be ripped out and split into pieces for his own safety. And although some inherent, internal flame still burned within his elder child, it did not hold to a torch to the strength of the Samadhi Fire.

You, though…

You could not have been born further from grace.

Sick from your very first breath, you were born into a body unfit for life. A deathly pallor clung to your skin from conception, proof abound of weakness and frailty.

And you had not made a sound.

Even when Princess Iron Fan held you away from her warm chest, or shook you, or; wearied from her post-partum state and frayed from desperation, struck you across the thighs- you had not cried. Nor would you scream. Not when you could only barely manage your own weak breathing.

It was only when your older brother Red Son; still just a child himself, clambered into your crib and held you that you made any noise at all.

He wasn’t supposed to be in there. He wasn’t supposed to even be in your room, let alone your crib… but curiosity had overtaken his obedience and led him right to you. With unsure hands, he had scooped you up and lifted you towards his face, inspecting his newborn sibling.

Nearly inaudibly, you had sounded a feeble giggle, pulling at his pince-nez glasses and reaching for his eye-catching crimson hair.

With wide eyes and careful arms, Red Son held you against his small chest, a long-lingering warmth left behind by the otherworldly fire keeping you cozy in his arms. Just a few reaches towards his face and scalp had worn your sickly body out, drifting off to sleep without any further sound.

In the morning, Princess Iron Fan and Demon Bull King had awoken to find you in your brother’s arm, alive and breathing, if barely.

And they hadn’t the heart to separate the two of you from one another.

———————————————————————

Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan alike knew that you would never become a great warrior. The notion was contradictory to the make of your flesh, foreign to the skin of an ill body.

It was impossible to train someone so young, to teach someone so physically impeded.

It had taken you six years to speak your first word, seven to take your first step.

Both of them had been for your prodigal elder brother.

And though your (severely delayed) milestones had managed to somewhat quell the long-standing fear that you’d forever be weak and helpless, you remained ill- thus, your family remained worried.

It had been hard for you. Perhaps it had been harder for your family, living in fear that by the next time they woke you’d be cold in your bed. It wasn’t a good way for any family to live.

Red Son had grown particularly protective of you in your youth, rarely letting you out of his arms or lap no matter how much you would protested. No amount of arguing, squirming, or struggling would free you. The most you could of was strike at him with your open palms, and even then, your uncoordinated hands bounced right off of his skin.

It was a convenient way to keep an eye on you, so your parents never intervened, setting what would become a long-lasting precedent: allowing Red Son to do as he pleased with you, because it was probably best for you anyways. He kept you out of trouble, and kept a close eye one you. There wasn’t anything wrong or harmful about it, after all.

Not back then, at least.

Red Son would only grow more protective as you aged, as it turned out. You went from being a helpless infant who genuinely had no way to escape his well-intentioned coddling to a child that was capable or arguing or hiding away from him. This shift had prompted him to grow more vigilant and insistent on your safety, even when it meant clumsily strapping you to his chest and bundling you around as you shrieked and bit him.

It was harmless. A little bit cute, even.

And then your father had been buried under a mountain, sealed by a staff that only one known living being could wield- who then disappeared from the world for centuries on end.

Red Son had changed in seconds. From a bright-eyed boy who was a little too eager to follow in his father’s wicked footsteps to an angry pyromaniac with a short fuse.

And his leash on you had only grown tighter. One family member that he had lost, and one that he could lose at a moment’s notice. An admittedly reasonable and well-intentioned protectiveness had quickly morphed into a much less tolerable possessiveness.

There’a a nasty dichotomy here for Red Son: his little sibling is weak and frail, and therefore needs his protecting, making them useless. But they’re also his little sibling, and therefore unimaginably valuable and precious, requiring him to protect them at all costs.

So he keeps you at an arm’s length while also keeping you under his thumb, attempting to satiate both aspects of his feelings, all while he strives tirelessly to free his father.

A strange distance grows between the two of you, Red Son both viciously protective and distantly standoffish.

For a time, you seek his affection and attention, vying for his warmth and praise. Even if it was annoyingly overbearing, your brother’s prior love was important to you. Try as hard as you might, Red Son’s response is always to order a Bull Clone to take you (gently) back to your room.

You’re still a bit too young to understand why, however, so you take his restriction of love much worse than he would expect- you shut yourself away in turn.

In time, you grow distant from your mother, as well. Iron Fan hadn’t pushed you away, per se… but her unwavering determination to free her husband left the two of you distant.

You had changed with them.

The effect of isolation has settled in deep, rooting through your mind, reflecting on your body- you look tired and sad, weary from the constant reminders of your result, guilty for not remembering your father.

“How can you dare to call them your family, if you contribute so little and remember even less,” a wicked voice within asks.

Do you deserve to call them your family?

“My Queen,” you say for the first time, and Princess Iron Fan raises an eyebrow and frowns. Her hand softly cups your cheek, dark eyes peering into your own. It’s impossible to miss the fatigue plaguing your face. Your mother wrongly assumes that it’s your own way of coping, that you’re trying to distance yourself from them, and therefore from your father. Given that it’s still respectful and proper, she’ll allow you to refer to her as such.

“My Prince,” you say for the first time, and your brother laughs, loud and harsh. Red Son thinks you speaking to him so formally is funny- for a while. He’ll allow a few uses of the phrase before he cuts you off and informs you very clearly that the ‘joke’ has turned stale, and you should really stop.

“It wasn’t all that funny to begin with,” he informs, sharply flicking your forehead. “And it’s certainly lost what little charm it had by now. Give it up, Y/N.”

And he’ll send to you your room to ‘lie down or whatever’, because he’s still desperately worried for your safety, deep inside. He just won’t admit it.

“My King,” you say for the first time, and Demon Bull King is left with few words, getting to see just how much you’ve grown without him, speaking clearly and standing steadily. How much has he missed? Have much have you grown without him?

But none of that really matters to you.

“Titles are more appropriate,” that little voice reminds you, keeping you insecure and humble. It keeps you from noticing how badly your family wants to be a whole unit again. It keeps you from seeing how much they love you.

And it will keep you blind, until everything builds to a single tipping point-

and you drown in obsession.

[yawneneteyam]

・゜゜・．mawey, oeyä yawne — ( neteyam )

summary: neteyam returns from his duties and is shocked to find out his young daughter has found her 'mate' [1.2k]

pairings: dad!neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

notes: "sorry im obsessed w the idea of baby daddy neteyam😭😭‼️what if,,, he meets his 9 yo daughter's first boyfriend" was the request. translations are at the end of the piece.

Ni'awtu was Neteyam's atan. His littlest love that Eywa had blessed him with. She was perfect and from the moment she was born, she filled Neteyam's heart with more love than he could have ever imagined.

Giving birth to Ni'awtu only made Neteyam fall more and more in love with you. You were strong, a warrior. Neteyam made tsaheylu with you during your labour period, he could only imagine the pain you were in through the small slither he was able to save you from. You were enchanting, his mate, mother of his child.

It seemed that time slipped away quicker than Neteyam ever thought possible. Ni'awtu was eight, she could no longer fit in the palm of his hand. She was strong and mighty, she would make an excellent Olo'ektan when the time was right, but she was still his baby.

"Oeyä txe’lan you need to stop running through the tent with mud!" You shouted, "Your father will not be happy". Ni'awtu ran through your home, filling the canopy with laughter and light, another pair of little feet padding along after her.

Ateyo had become Ni'awtu's closest friend over their years of knowing each other. He was a good boy, clever and funny. You enjoyed seeing the bond that they shared with each other so young. You often found yourself laughing alongside Ateyo's parents at the thought of them growing up together.

Neteyam had only been able to meet Ateyo a handful of times, his duties as Olo'ektan kept him busy. When he found time for his family, it was peaceful and quaint- just the three of you. It wasn't that Neteyam disliked Ateyo, Neteyam disliked any boys who went near his Ni'awtu. She was his baby, too young to belong to another man. 'You are a warrior, oeyä tsawke. No boy will ever change that, so do not let them' he would tell her.

Ni'awtu and Ateyo quickly stumbled over small apologies before running back outside of the tent, their laughter was contagious. You couldn't help yourself but smile.

Eclipse was coming soon, you knew that Neteyam would be home to help you cook dinner for your small family. You tried your best to brush the mud outside that sat on your floor. Neteyam pulled back the curtain of your home, letting himself back into his safe space, ready to finish his day with his two favourite people.

"Mmh," Neteyam snaked his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. You felt his heart beat against your back. His tail playfully wrapped itself around your leg. "I missed you, yawne" He almost purred in your ear, his chest softly vibrating at the comfort you radiated.

"I missed you too," You turned your head to the side, so Neteyam could kiss your cheek. "You will need to go roundup the children for dinner, I will start cooking soon,"

"Children?" You felt Neteyam's tail loosen its grip in confusion.

"Yes," You chuckled, "Children, we have Ateyo joining us for dinner tonight,"

You felt Neteyam tense in your embrace. "Ateyo? As in Ateyo te Nafyu Ratsay'itan"

"Don't go all serious on me and use his full name, you know who he is, 'Teyam" You rolled your eyes, lightly pulling yourself from his embrace.

"She is too young to be hanging around boys," Neteyam followed you with fire in his step. "Boys are bad influences at this age," He argued, "I should know,"

"You weren't" You turned around to face him with a pointed look.

"Yes but-" He huffed, trying to find the words, "Argh!" He hissed, turning away quickly. "I don't like him, yawne" Neteyam shook his head.

"He's a child, Neteyam!" You tried to find it in yourself to not laugh, but you couldn't help it. "Ni'awtu is allowed to have friends,"

"She has many friends! So why does she need him?" He began to raise his voice in panic. You chuckled at his reaction.

"You are threatened by a child," You rested a hand on his chest, feeling it puffing underneath your touch, "Don't be a baby,"

"I am not a baby," He turned away quickly, a scowl on his face. You heard Neteyam mumble, "I am a mighty warrior".

"Yes, yes you are" You reminded him, "So start acting like one,"

"Daddy!" Ni'awtu's voice broke Neteyam out of his anger, for she was the cure for all impurities in his world.

"Syulang," He crouched down, engulfing her in his warm embrace, "I missed you,"

"I missed you too," Ni'awtu smiled, you watched as Neteyam held her closely. Your eyes shifting to the shy boy slowly trailing behind Ni'awtu.

"Ateyo, how are you?" You smiled at the young boy, reminding Neteyam that you were in the presence of guests. Ateyo looked down, bringing his hand from his forehead downwards.

"Oel ngati kameie," He said softly. You looked to Neteyam with a wide grin on your face, "Thank you for welcoming me into your home for the night Tsahik and Olo'eyktan"

"You are welcome whenever," You told him with a smile. You watched Neteyam's hard exterior soften at the respect he was shown by the young boy. Neteyam was raised to treat people the best that he could, a small part of him saw his younger self in that moment. Maybe he could grow to tolerate Ateyo.

"Mama, today Ateyo asked to be my mate!" Ni'awtu beamed.

"WHAT?!"

..Or maybe he wouldn't.

"What do you mean he is your mate?" Neteyam pulled Ni'awtu away from Ateyo. "You are too young to even think about things like that, do you understand?" He lectured her.

"Ateyo, you do know that Ni'awtu is not your mate right?" You crouched down to his level, bringing his hand into yours. "You both are babies, you are not ready- or old enough to even be talking about that,"

"Well, my Mother said that your mate is someone you like spending all your time with," Ateyo sheepishly looked from you to your husband, nervous by the Olo'eyktan's reaction. You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Relief filled your chest at the little ones misinterpretation, "And I enjoy spending my time with Ni'awtu, if that is okay with you,"

"No!" Neteyam, hid Ni'awtu behind his legs, " No, it is not-"

"Mawey, oeyä yawne," You glared at Neteyam. "Ateyo, let me tell you something" You looked back at the child with a soft gaze, "A mate is a lot more than someone you enjoy spending time with," You smiled softly, "You will learn that one day, but you and Ni'awtu are not mates," Ateyo began to nod slowly, "But for now, you are great friends- that is what you are and that is what matters,"

"Okay," He smiled softly, shuffling his feet "I am sorry to have made you both upset,"

You let out a breathy laugh from your nose, "You have not upset us, Ateyo. You just didn't know what it meant to be mates, it was a mistake, but you have not upset us," You tried your best to reassure the younger boy, a warm smile on your face.

"Then why does daddy have those big lines on his forehead?" Ni'awtu held her dad's hand, looking up at him confused.

"He's getting old," You whispered with a smirk.

"Excuse me," Neteyam interjected, "I am leader of this clan," He picked Ni'awtu up and threw her over his shoulder, "And I will have respect!" He began to tickle her. Ni'awtu's laughter filled the tent once again, Ateyo's too.

Over the years, the two of them laughing together in your home would become a familiar sound- much to Neteyam's dismay.

© 2023 yawneneteyam

translations (atan / light) (oeyä txe’lan / my heart) (oeyä tsawke / my sunshine) (yawne / beloved) (syulang / flower) (oel ngati kameie / i see you) (mawey, oeyä yawne / calm, my beloved)

[thelov3lybookworm]

Weeping Heart (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: a late night walk in the woods, bandages ripped off old wounds.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1477

A/n: AHHAHAAHHA I LOVE THISS like it feels so good to be writing 🥹

we getting our hearts broken folks, less goo 🥳

anyways, enjoy!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

There wasn’t a knife at her neck.

That was the first concern Y/n cleared from her mind, her heart rate slowing in comfort before speeding up again.

Who the fuck-

"Y/n, my friend." Slurred a clearly drunk Cardan.

Thank god it’s this fool.

She knew it was mean to think of him this way, but Cardan had never been much of a warrior.

He was a poet.

Made to be a lover, born to be soft hearted, forced to rule.

"Cardan." She gently grabbed his arm, trying to push him off as she breathed deep, her racing heart slowing. "What are you doing here-"

"How are you!" She blinked as he stepped back, spreading his arms as if asking for a hug.

"I’m good, Cardan. How… how are you?" She mumbled, dreading the answer already.

She did not want to know how he was, because if he was not good- which she somehow knew he wasn’t- she would want to return, heartbreak be damned.

And that would end up with her not being good.

"I’m so glad you asked!" He cackled, swaying on his feet before Y/n wrapped her hand around his bicep and forced him to sit. "I am so sad, Y/n. You know why?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at where she could make out the outline of his eyes. "Why?"

She began moving again as he started listing off all the reasons everyone at court bothered him, the way this courtier wasn’t entertaining enough, the way that messenger was too stoic and would never laugh at Cardan’s jokes, the way Jude forced him to sit in the great hall and and just watch, prohibiting him from revelling like he had used to before he was crowned.

It made Y/n smile.

Everything had changed in the past year, with his family being killed, him becoming a king, his sudden marriage, but if there was something that hadn’t changed, it was him.

He kept whining as she arranged her pillows around him, and as he leaned back, she nodded along, just like before.

But then his voice lowered, and she had to strain her ears to hear, even with her advanced fae hearing.

"You left too."

She froze. "I know."

"I don’t have anyone to talk to now Y/n." It was dark, but not enough that she couldn’t make out the small pout on his lips.

"I’m sorry, but it was the queen’s orders-"

"Fuck the orders, Y/n. Come back. I am so lonely without you."

She pulled back from him, blinking away the sudden stinging that started in her eyes, but he was quick, his hand grabbing hers in a vice like grip.

Cardan really was lonely, because he was not one to curse so freely, and if he of all people was cursing…

I’m fucked.

"I was so excited to meet you again, but you haven’t talked to me at all since I arrived. And then I thought you would appreciate your soldiers being distracted so we could talk, but then you got mad and left me alone."

His voice kept getting smaller and smaller, like a child on the verge of crying.

It broke Y/n from the inside.

"Cardan-"

"Please Y/n, I want to talk. Just like we used to." He mumbled, and Y/n watched as his eyelids drooped over his glassy eyes, as if he was on the verge of crying but too tired and drunk to. "Please, don’t ignore me. I’m sorry if I hurt you but-"

She swallowed.

"I- Cardan? You want to talk right?"

He hummed softly, his eyes struggling to stay open as he turned on his side.

"Sleep, my love. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?"

He turned his head to her again. "You promise?"

She offered him a weak smile, knowing he probably could not see.

"Yes, sweetheart. Rest now."

He passed out before she even finished pulling the duvet over him, and she stared at him for a moment. It was a split second decision, but she hesitantly dipped down, pressing her lips to his temple.

Sighing, she stretched to try and get rid of the sudden pain in her lower back.

She looked around, wondering if she should go back to sleep.

She didn’t, instead stepping out into the crisp night air, her eyes drawing to the softly glowing embers in the middle of the camp, fighting to stay alive long after the fire had died down.

Quietly, she settled down on one of the logs closest to it, lost in her own thoughts.

It wasn’t long before someone interrupted her, though.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

She blinked, then turned to look at the newcomer. "I should be asking you that."

Herb shrugged, plopping down beside her. "I asked first."

Y/n sighed. "You could say that."

He was silent, then- "Why?"

Frustrated, Y/n tilted her head back, eyes fixed on the stars twinkling against the dark sky. "Because my bed is occupied."

He nodded, like he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Why are you here?"

"Couldn’t stop thinking about all the things. Too much on my mind to shut off."

Y/n hummed.

Neither of them spoke after that. Surrounded by silence and his quiet company, Y/n felt oddly at peace.

In the distance, Y/n thought she heard an owl hoot, the quiet rustling of leaves, the crunch of snow. It calmed her.

Herb stood then, cracking his back.

"Come."

She blinked. "What?"

"I’m going to take a walk in the forest. Come with me."

She thought about it for a moment, then stood. "Not too deep, Herb."

He grinned his signature goofy smile, his canines glinting under the light of the full moon.

"Do you realise what you just said? I can make so many jokes with that."

Y/n shook her head, exasperated, shoving his shoulder as she began walking off towards the dense cover of trees. He continued cackling like a madman, his steps near silent as he fell in step beside her.

Unconsciously, the corner of her lips ticked up.

"So. His highness?"

Just like that, her smile vanished. "What about him?"

Herb was quiet, but she knew he was observing her. "You love him."

It was not a question. It was a statement, his surprise evident in his voice.

Y/n turned her head away.

But she didn’t deny it.

"And he’s married."

"I know." She snapped, making him raise his hands in surrender.

"Calm down, I’m not trying to offend you-" A look from her, and he stopped.

Moments passed, tense, filled with harsh truths swirling between them.

"Why… Why did you not tell him? From what I know, you used to be very close."

"I don’t see how it concerns you." Y/n closed her eyes, chest constricting. She exhaled heavily. "I… he would have never loved me back."

A beat passed, then- "How do you know that?"

"Don’t you know? He was a rake. Had everyone begging for a chance to spend a night with him. He wasn’t the type to settle down, at least not so early."

"But he did."

He did. And it wasn’t with Y/n.

"He would tell me everything back then, and maybe if I hadn’t left… he probably would still have told me everything. A few days before his coronation, he told me he liked Jude. I knew then that I never did stand a chance."

"I… I’m sorry-"

"Don’t be. It isn’t your fault that the heart loves."

He was quiet after that, contemplating. This Herb as new to her. This was not the Herb who was always goofing around, pulling pranks on people in the middle of important missions.

It made her concerned, to say the least.

"Are you sure he doesn’t like you back-"

"Herb. Please."

He nodded reluctantly as the camp came into view again, guilt and sadness mixing with something Y/n did not want to recognise in his eyes.

He came to a stop in front of his tent, glancing at her and opening the flap, his eyes unmoving.

"Get in, Y/n."

She blinked at the seriousness in his tone, the way he refused to break eye contact. "I- you want me to sleep in your tent?"

He rolled his eyes, letting the flap fall. "Unless you are planning on kicking his highness out of yours, where are you going to sleep?"

"Where will you sleep?"

He shook his head. "I’m not tired. I was thinking of staying up and keeping watch for some time."

Y/n nodded, searching his eyes.

She stepped forward, and so did Herb, his back to her.

Y/n hesitated for a moment. "Herb?"

He paused, half turning to her.

"Thank you-"

"Don’t." He offered her a small smile, then walked away.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Cruel Prince Taglist: @dahliawarner @yucanbmylxdy

Cardan Greenbriar Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

@rosecobollway @mp-littlebit @tele86 @fauxraven

@fuzzycupcakebeliever @bay7let

Taglist: @dreamsarenicer @kennedy-brooke @rosecobollway @batboygirlie

@btrxbllck @love-bookprincess

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'm Alive (Yandere!Monster x GN!Reader)

CW: Dead Dove, dub-con, death, gore, inhuman anatomy, sexual non-sexual penetration, mind control, angst, you have been warned

Breathing hurt.

His entire body convulsed as he inhaled, the writhing mass that was his body cracked and groaned as it pulsed. He was once a man, though he no longer remembered much of his previous life. There was a torso emerging from the ball of flesh that was his lower half, and sometimes when he closed his eyes he could recall owning a pair of legs; but now he was just an abomination.

Trapped under the earth in what seemed to be the ruins of a temple or some kind of forgotten catacombs, he spent his days lying in a corner, eating the rats that came and tried to devour his body that reeked of decay.

Sometimes, he dreamt. There is a dream of a building called a "church", where a woman would clasp her hands together and speak to an invisible man. She called it prayer, and told him if he prays then her god will answer, but whenever he awoke and interlocked his red, skinless fingers together, the woman's god never granted him death.

Death never comes, nor does relief.

There was only rot, and pain, and rats.

Each and every day. He didn't know how he knew, because he hadn't seen the sun since becoming a monster, but he knew that there was such thing as a sun, and a sky, and that the day changed to night, which would become weeks, then years. And he knew that he has been down there for a very long time.

Then, one day, there was light.

And God granted him his relief.

.................................

The group of adventurers broke through the sealed entrance to the abandoned tower. It once stretched all the way to the heavens, but had sunk into the dirt centuries ago. Half of the excited group were thrill seeking scholars, willing to put their lives on the line to uncover the secrets of the Inverted Tower, and the other half were monster slaying treasure hunters, investigating the ancient rumors of forgotten relics. Among them was (Reader), a hero unknown.

The dreams began when they were just a child. Dreams of a man begging them not to leave, falling to his knees as the walls crumbled around the two and the familiar stranger's skin peeled off like cracking paint. A nun in the dreams would assure (Reader) that it wasn't their fault. But it hurt. It was too much for a child to see. Seeing themselves, but not themselves, a body foreign yet undeniably their own, reliving the moment when they chained a man to the floor, then locked the door and left him to die.

Now they stood at a hole in the ground: the magnet of fate pulling them into a place they felt would be identical to their dreams.

And they were right.

The halls seemed to be persevered by magic, dirty and dusty, but still fairly untouched by the erosion of time. Landing onto the top floor was like dropping into one of their dreams. Memories from someone else invaded (Reader's) mind, and forced them to recall things they never experienced before.

Adopted by the Tower of God, (Reader) was proud to have been chosen amongst all of the other orphans. Their skills were unmatched, as was their intellect. Only six years old, and the magical talent scouts had determined that they had what it took to learn to be a great warrior for 'The Cause'.

There was another child around (Reader's) age that had been adopted from a different country. He looked like an angel, with gold hair and eyes so clear and blue that they looked like the sky.

The floor shook dangerously as the group worked their way to the stairs. A healer tried to hold (Reader) back, concern filling his face. "You look really pale, do you need to sit down?"

"We literally just entered!" A thug stage whispered, nervous to make any loud noises. No one knew what was in the tower, but there had been many stories about monsters and demons. Some said that the devil himself pulled the tower into the earth out of jealousy towards God.

"I'm fine.." (Reader) wiped the sweat off their forehead with the back of their hand. "I'm just getting a weird sense of deja vu..."

The children entered the tower's chapel hand in hand. It was nearly empty, save for a nun kneeling before a terrifying statue of a cloaked figure. Despite wearing a habit, she was an unusual looking nun, with her eyebrows shaved off and tattoos visible from under her hood.

"Welcome, children." She gave a small smile, one that seemed more tired than welcoming.

"You look weird." The golden boy gripped (Reader's) arm tighter.

A genuine laugh erupted sharply, startling the kids. "I am a clerical nun."

"What's that?"

She revealed her hands to the small orphans before her. Sparkling light rose from her fingers like snowflakes falling backwards.

"The God that I serve gives me power. Power to cleanse the world of evil." The statue looming above the trio felt as though it heard her mention it; it's presence darkening and suffocating (Reader). "You were chosen because your souls glow stronger than most.. God has blessed you both."

"All you have to do is pray.."

An axe slashed through an attacking bat. Only on the 112th floor and the group had already began to run into creatures from the beyond. Lesser evils such as minion bats and living slime charged the group as ferociously as possible, mad with hunger. As they continued on, a growing affection for the young boy bloomed within (Reader's) heart, reliving someone else's journey of friendship and love, with a terrifying sense of anxiety. Each new remembrance of secret handholding and hushed murmurs behind closed doors gave (Reader) a rush of dopamine, but also made them fearful to continue. They knew there was a memory they didn't want to uncover; one that would connect to the dreams they've had since forever, and it scared them.

On the edge of puberty, (Reader) and the Boy could feel that something within them was changing, but being raised by a guild of monster hunters left them without the basic learnings of what was happening to their bodies and minds. The two were surrounded by loving adults who cared for the orphans like family, but continued to isolate themselves as they grew, relying on each other in secret more and more.

The two hid under the blanket, sharing a bed long after it was time for lights out. (Reader) held onto the Boy's slightly clammy hand, repeating a prayer in their head for God to make their heart stop hurting. It was as though they were allergic to their best friend and brother. Whenever he looked into their eyes they felt a tidal wave of emotion so intense it nearly brought them to tears. However, at the same time they couldn't leave his side. They wanted to hug him so tightly that his body would melt into their's.

"I don't like Mother Lillian." The Boy whispered through pouting lips. "She keeps making us take our lessons apart from each other."

"Haha. That's because you refuse to do your work when we sit together." (Reader) knocked their forehead against his lightly.

In the black of their room, they couldn't see the Boy's face blushing, so they assumed that the heat they felt was coming from their own cheeks.

"Schoolwork is boring... I'd rather spend time with you."

The thing on the ground floor could smell his salvation. That prayer he had mumbled in incoherent words for decades was finally heard by his God. A person who's name he hadn't forgotten despite his language skills diminishing to nothing but grunts and groans had finally come for him. He would no longer be alone.

A horrifying sound of flesh ripping echoed throughout the corridor as he tore his body away from the wall he had begun to fuse to. It was agony, dragging his living corpse across the floor, but he knew that it would all be worth it.

Soon.

(Reader's) talent for the arcane accelerated, like a snowball gently tumbling into an avalanche. Praise and recognition were no strangers to the young teen, but as their recognition grew they were kept apart from their best friend for longer and longer intervals. While it hurt to be away from him, the genius had no idea the absolute trauma the separation was inflicting on him.

Mother Lillian held her bleeding forehead, tears falling not for herself, but for the young man she saw as her own son. The Boy stood above her with a candlestick holder raised high above his head, ready to swing again. This was the scene (Reader) interrupted, lashing out on instinct with a holy light, hoisting their best friend off his feet with a frantic wave of their hand. "STOP!"

Blood continued dripping from the tattooed cleric as her aging body was pulled into her other child's arms. It wasn't a deadly strike, but a second surely would have ended her. She was powerful, but took a vow long ago to only use her magic against evil, so even having her brow split open she refused to defend herself, because that would mean that she thought her adopted son was evil.

And even though he didn't believe it, she did love him.

"It's all her fault! She won't let us be together! She's keepING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!"

Moisture sweat from the walls.

The heat was becoming unbearable. Cooling potions were being consumed in fairly consistent dosages as the party descended. But it wasn't the earth's core, nor the presence of hell itself that caused (Reader's) fever.

They could still feel the sting of betrayal when they threw their best friend off of their mother.

"No.. that wasn't me.." the hero wobbled on their feet, fingernails clawing at their scalp.

A clay vase nearly toppled as (Reader) clipped their hip on the corner of the little table it was resting on.

They could see the Boy watching them from behind the ugly vase, and it made their stomach feel strange. His shoulders had grown wide and his chest broad. The Boy no longer looked like a boy, and (Reader) couldn't block out the odd, scary new feelings they had for him.

"STOP!!" (Reader) took off, slamming their face into a wall with a force loud enough to draw the attention of skeletons.

Said monsters hobbled closer to the group of panicking adventurers, drawing the attention of the dizzy and confused hero, who recognized the tatters draping the undeads' bones immediately.

Clerical wizards and holy people smiled at the young adult knowingly as they tried to explain, with all seriousness, the illness plaguing their body whenever their "brother" was near.

"Calm down!" The healer begged, trying to cool the panicking person down.

"No! You should all be in heaven! Why are you here?!"

Why am I here?

Whispers seeped out of the door to the Boy's room, whispers the jealous cleric-in-training on the other side did not recognize. Unable to contain their envy, (Reader) burst into the room, only to see their exhausted blonde friend standing alone in the center.

"[•••••], who were you talking to?" They demanded, eyes narrowed and shaking. At hearing his own name his cloudy eyes widened, accentuating the bags hanging heavy underneath.

"I was just praying.." His arms engulfing his angry "friend" instantly dowsed their fire, almost hypnotizing them with his touch into forgetting that they thought they had heard a second voice. "If I'm.. If I can be as strong as you, then we'll be able to spend more time together, right?"

Your God wasn't listening, so I found a new one.

As (Reader) remembered a life that wasn't their own, so did the abomination from the basement.

Each floor that their bodies drew closer also brought back pieces of their souls; souls that could only exist together.

He came to me, and offered me a deal.

The Man woke his old friend when the sun wasn't close to rising, climbing over their body under their blankets. As soon as their lips parted to question his actions, his tongue was in their mouth.

With no light to guide them the two kissed passionately and without experience. They didn't know what they were doing, just that they needed to feel one another.

(Reader) greedily grabbed the sides of his face to pull him closer, legs shifting to feel his body against their own, instantly stopping at the realization that his face was wet under their palms.

"[•••••]?" They tried to pull back as he leaned in, trapping them against their pillows. What they first thought to be tears was too warm and thick to be water. Roughly pushing him back, (Reader) illuminated the small space with magic, frightened.

Blood leaked down and smeared across his cheeks as [•••••]'s bloated, red eyes were on the verge of popping.

"Shit, we finally got passed them!" The barbarian wheezed out. "Those boney bastards were fucking tough, no thanks to you!" He directed that last part to the nearly comatose hero being supported by the healer.

"no.."

The young magic user barely heard the sick patient whimper. They had been muttering gargles of nonsense for a few levels, so it was worrying seeing them lucid and frightened; eyes round of scared, pointing at the door the barbarian was about to open with all their strength, shaking. "No..."

"Why were they so tough..?"

The door swung open with a loud bang, and a tendril shot through, piercing the barbarian's skull and splattering the scholar behind him in brain matter.

"He had made a pact with a devil."

A man bubbling alive screamed in agony as he attempted to tear off his hands to rid himself of the holy chains keeping him tethered to the floor.

Mother Lillian made an audible sound of pain as she choked back her feelings. Years of meditation and worship, and she could not keep a stoic face despite this being her job. So many exorcisms she performed. So many monsters she'd slain.

But this was her son.

"We can exer-"

"We have already tried that." (Reader) felt their world shatter. "This was a contract, not a possession."

A paladin in golden armor offered a sorrowful expression that seemed genuine. "The only thing we can do is to put him out of his misery."

"No!" They cried out, attempting to launch themselves at the godly man as their grieving mother held them tighter to her chest. "Let me see him, please! I can talk to him! Convince him to give up the name of the devil, so we can hunt it down and save his soul!"

"That's-" The paladin was cut off by Mother Lillian's icy glare. That was a long shot. Not only would it be a reckless waste of human life to hunt down a devil for one man, said man was delirious, borderline demented. There was no reasoning with him.

Bloody holes where eyes once sat welcomed (Reader) as they entered the cellar prison.

Without his sight, he could still see. He saw with scent and sound. The sound of their blood rushing through their veins made their shape, and the natural odor of (Reader's) sweat identified the body. He smiled, another tooth falling out as he did so, joining the wet pile on the floor.

"(Reader)~.."

"Tell me the name of the devil you serve." They kept their voice even and still, despite the quake rattling their spine.

"You came for me~ Just like he said!~" A pop ended his sentence, one of his arms dislocating as he pulled on the chains to get closer.

"Just like who said?" (Reader) fell to one knee, leaning in as closely and as they safely as they could. "Please, tell me the name of the devil you made a contract with."

"And now you'll love me!" He squealed.

"I want to save you!" (Reader) grabbed his shoulders but was instantly repelled, throwing themselves away and back towards the door. His skin had slipped off and stuck to their fingers. "Please, please just tell me!"

"God made me strong so you would love me!"

(Reader) turned to run out.

"Wait. Where are you going?" His voice almost sounded like his own again. It pulled (Reader's) hand away from the handle.

"I need to hunt down the devil that did this to you." Their voice trembled, barely containing their tears.

".. what?" The smile was gone as more skin stripped off the decaying body. "No?"

The pain was beginning to return. It had left when his love entered, but now that they were threatening to leave.

"You can't leave? No! NO!" His face tore as he slammed his skull down onto the floor. "Don't leave me! You need to love me! Please don't go!"

Corpses lay around the detached person slowly coming to terms with their apparent reincarnation. They knew they never returned to that tower in their previous life. They spent their entire life searching for the devil that stole their first love's soul, and died bleeding out on a battlefield, forgotten by history and remembered by no one. Unknown to them, the tower with their forgotten family did not carry on their legacy, for it had sunk while they were searching and they had simply never heard the news.

Perhaps, there were no gods, only devils. Because even the most righteous people to have ever lived were damned to wander the tower as the undead instead of passing over to the afterlife. It wasn't fair.

(Reader) gazed up at the tumorous creature that had massacred their party with glassy eyes. The name they couldn't recall during their entire discovery of their past life rolled off their tongue as they reached out for him-

"Ydenn."

A language no longer spoken by a people that no longer lived; suddenly the language (Reader) had known their entire life was replaced by something much older.

Skinless hands grabbed (Reader) gently and raised them to eye level. "(Reader).."

He called them by their past name, bruising their hips under his fingers. (Reader) briefly worried that they were about to die, that all these years alone Ydenn thought they had abandoned him, and that all he desired for all these years was revenge.. but instead he pulled them close, smashing his face against theirs in a mock kiss.

Without lips his gums rubbed painfully against their lips, but it felt just as hungry and desperate as their first kiss under the covers. (Reader's) body may have felt different in his arms, but he knew it was them.

They parted their lips for his invading tongue, now longer and monstrous, it moved like a writhing worm inside their cheeks before pressing itself down their throat, pulsating and hot. Ydenn's hands tore off their top, effortlessly going through multiple layers to feel their bare skin against his raw muscles. He sat their body on his mound of flesh, unable to think of anything other than becoming one with them.

A bright light filled (Reader's) vision as their pants were removed, suddenly replacing the horrific scene with a pleasant dream. Lying in the bed they owned well over a century ago, Ydenn held them under his naked body, face red and glossy from his crying baby blues. "I finally have you again." With a wide smile he kissed them again, smiling harder when they eagerly reciprocated.

They pulled back just to say "I tried to save your soul, Ydenn! I'm sorry I never came back, I'm sorry for dying!"

Just like the angel (Reader) remembered him to be, his face cracked under the weight of his joy, hearing his love babble underneath him as though they were nervous of his feelings. "You came back for me~"

"I'm sorry it took so long." Now (Reader) was also smiling through tears. "I'm sorry I never told you.. that.. that I already loved you!"

(Reader) could feel his erection press against their thigh and willingly opened their legs, making room for him.

Ydenn's heavy pants hit their ear as he dropped his face into the crook of their neck, caressing his dick with one hand as he rubbed its tip between their legs. "Tell me you want to become one with me."

Shivers pimpled their skin in anticipation as they looked down between their bodies at his swollen cock. "I want to become one with you."

There was a searing pain that pieced (Reader's) core.

With a blink the dream was gone, and (Reader) was back facing the skinless half living corpse; a thick tendril made of gore and once-human meat penetrating their stomach.

Vomit and blood spat out across their chest as the throbbing entity began thrusting in and out of the wound it created. Their eyes gave away their shock at the treachery. The wound was too deep and too sudden; the immediate pain was already gone, and they felt numb from the waist down.

"Yd-Ydenn?" They choked on his name, but the gurgle of blood went unnoticed by him. Just hearing his name spurred him on. His teeth scraped against theirs as he began violently fucking the hole he had created. The tendril raped their abdomen like a prehensile penis while his hands ground their urine soaked groin against the growth that was his lower half. Each slap of their bodies bore the wound deeper, spraying blood and mulched intestine.

Between slaps were images of that dream, almost within (Reader's) grasp. They could almost feel pleasure, as they imagined running their hands through his hair as he pounded them into their bed.

They could hear the bed creaking against the hard wood floor as they reached their orgasm, excitedly moaning as they spasmed under his crushing pelvis. (Reader) could feel something building within them, threatening to pop as his dick slammed into something inside of them perfectly.

Just as it was spilling out, the rush of a climax vibrating their system, a loud thunk brought them back to their bloody reality.

Their glazed eyes lulled to the side to find the source of the loud sound.

(Reader's) severed bottom half lay on the floor, only attached to their torso by the stretched out intestines and leaky organs barely holding on.

The disembowelment of his lover didn't seem to phase the monster, still making love to them as more smaller, wriggling pieces of flesh penetrated (Reader).

They could feel the tendril writhe up into their chest, and wondered how they weren't dead yet. It rubbed itself against their heart, leaking an inhuman precum against their weakly beating organ. Through the black goop they thought they could see blue irises smiling back at them with happy tears.

"I love you, (Reader)."

Hot fluid splashed up into their brain as he came inside of their nearly hollowed out cavity, then the world went black.

There was a creature at the bottom of the tower, that no adventurer dared to attack. It never killed unprovoked, but it's kill rate was perfect.

It was a strange creature, a large ball of rotting chunks of human meat, held together by dark magic. Out of the tumor like creature sprouted two torsos, one more decayed than the other, and they were often seen embracing one another, creating ungodly sounds that echoed throughout the entire tower.

Though they forgot how to speak and see, their names never each other's mouths, repeating them over and over to one another without end. They had no need for sleep, nor rest. It was as though they forgot they needed to eat and even breathe.

They only needed each other.

[shirefantasies]

Can I request a How Many Kids They Want for the characters from The Hobbit? I’m curious to hear what you think!

Heck yeah! I already made a placeholder for it in my drafts cuz I had to let’s GOOOO! Last post pre-surgery, crazy that we’re only 3 days out 🥲

How Many Kids Do They Want? The Hobbit Edition

Balin

Certainly not a future he ever expected, but it’s not such a bad one, is it? How big his family is is a question Balin wouldn’t mind deferring to his partner, especially as he would never be the one bearing them! But probably not more than three if he was really pressed for an answer.

Dwalin

Girl dad. I said what I said. Secretly wants to settle down and adores the idea of domestic life, especially with a sweetheart of a partner who he can take care of. This transfers to his children, who Dwalin is the fiercest papa bear to! No one will touch a single hair upon his daughters’ heads. I can see him having two or three little girls, very unusual for a dwarf and a bit unexpected to him, who would have said he wanted sons. The moment he has to pull a knife out of his little girl’s hand, though, the very same one that held a doll on the other side, Dwalin realizes what he wants has nothing to do with boys. Raises the toughest girls this side of the mountains!

Thorin

Does not mind the idea of a small family, more time and love to give each member as king. Thorin is fiercely loyal and dedicated, so he wants to shower his partner and child(ren) with as much as he possibly can. Thus he would prefer only one or two children. While he hopes for a son to continue on the line of Durin, growing up with a sister gave him a soft spot and respect for femininity, too. A boy and a girl sounds perfect to him, Thorin’s little prince and princess. He would have such a hard time not softening his harsh ways and one hundred percent spoiling them, but the last thing he wants is to raise spoiled royalty with no humility!

Oin

Oin is so the type of father to have a big family and brag about them all the time! Five or six children. He’s the default carer when they get sick, being so good at treating any ailment or pain that they run to him upon feeling any sort of ill. Not picky about if he has boys or girls, ending up with two girls and three or four boys. All of them are welcome to become his apprentices and several even grew up playing ‘doctor’ for years beforehand! Literally Oin could be handling someone halfway to bleeding out and he’s still standing there staunching it saying how he has the best kids ever.

Gloin

The proudest father and family man in general! Cannot wait to have a family of his own and absolutely wants a son to be his mini-me. Has a special bond with his son as we all know. Gloin is happy to even have one child, but could be persuaded to go up to two or three. Would raise the toughest, shrewdest daughter as he shows her the ropes of getting out of uncomfortable situations and having the confidence to stand up for whatever she wants!

Bifur

A family is a future he never grew up expecting being a manual laborer and warrior. Parts of him weren’t even sure how long he’d live unless he got tough, which of course he did! One son sounds good to him, someone to pass on stories of battle and his ancestors to and shape as a fighter, though he also hopes if he has a family they would not be so forced to see war.

Bofur

Envies his brother’s family a bit, not that he wants quite so many! Bofur would be happy with two or three or four. He loves the idea of having a little girl, especially if she’s a tiny version of his partner, he would just melt at the sight of her. Total, though, he’s down for three or four, multiple but still small enough to feel cozy! Absolutely the type of father who lets his daughter dance with her feet on his and teases the kids whenever he can! Makes little hats for his sons so they can match.

Bombur

Going by the fanon/actor canon here as always, a lot. He’s so good with wee ones and just adores them, so he is down for as many as he’ll be allowed, even up to thirteen or fourteen! Because of this, he naturally wants several of both boys and girls, especially because girls are rarer among his people. So playful with them and a master of getting down to their level as a naturally lighthearted and whimsical person. He loves when the little ones help him cook or bake even if it gets messy!

Dori

The most caring father ever, forever doting on his children and making them feel loved, even if it’s a little much! His perfect number is two, one of each if he’s lucky but he’d be happy with two of the same, too. Dori grew up caring for both of his brothers for enough years, after all, but he also has the sneaking suspicion that with dwarven culture, his love for the finer things would be more likely passed on to daughters! Likes the idea of teaching skills like sewing or jewelry-making to whoever his offspring are.

Nori

Kind of suspects if he had a child, it might not be legitimate, but in the end he takes the plunge of settling down, feeling the urge as he ages to keep his bloodline on. One or two is enough for him, though, sons if he can help it, which being a dwarf he practically can! Realizes carrying a wee bairn around has a charm that lets him get away with even more than usual, and as they age teaches his little boys how to play games and even to cheat a little.

Ori

Softer, more caring than his middle brother, someone who fantasized about having a family if someone would have him. His vision is of four children, two of each. So patient with all the buzzing questions and curiosities of their young minds. All of them, boys or girls, will have the most enriching environments full of art and writing, being raised with culture over getting taught to fight. Since self-expression is encouraged, though, you can bet it’s a loud home!

Fili

Even beyond the weight of cultural expectations, Fili wants to experience being a father. Doesn’t have as strong a desire for a son as most kings and princes do, honoring his mother and what a great queen she would make. In fact, he loves the idea of raising a future queen more than king in some ways. She would be strong, resilient, free to be herself and not fall to the shadows beneath anyone if Fili has his way. He definitely wants more than one, though, and in fact ends up with twins, too! Identical twin sons he encourages both to train and explore as well as to mess with everyone by lying about which twin they are.

Kili

This dwarf loves his mother and is just dying to show his children the love he got and respect his partner especially if she’s the mother of his children! The idea of a family makes him happy like nothing else, for despite all his flirting and seeming like he wants to have fun he really wants to settle down with the love of his life. He wants at least one of each, loving different things about having a son and daughter. The kind of father who would play dress-up with his daughter and spar with her just as much as his son! All in all, he’s pretty open on numbers, but he wants at least two and the ideal range in his mind is around three to five.

Bilbo

Didn’t think he wanted children for a long time, but Bilbo is definitely the sort to change his mind if he meets the right person. Still would prefer a smaller family of one or two children, though, as more would be overwhelming to him and he wants to keep his home in order! Boy or girl, his kids would learn so many skills ranging from folding handkerchiefs to cartography. No strong preference from Bilbo on what he wants, per se, he more just hopes to have things in common with them and be able to bond.

Thranduil

Torn between his desire for an heir and not exactly paternal ways, Thranduil really only wants one child. All his attention can be focused that way, too, because at his heart he does know that duty makes it hard to be as involved as he could be with family and it would not be fair to have a massive family he can’t spend time with. Likes the idea of a son, again considering an heir, but a little girl would have the woodland king absolutely wrapped around her finger and get every pretty little thing she wants.

Bard

Pretty obvious on this one, but he would want three! Not so picky on having sons or daughters, especially when his legacy already has pressure upon it. In truth he’s the sort who wants ‘the full experience’ and says he’d want to try for one of each. Teaches all of his little family valuable skills, wishing them the best chance in life. They’ll learn to heal, defend themselves even if it’s not fighting, simply keeping safe.

Beorn

Intimidated as he is by the prospect of having children in a world that was so cruel to his people, his papa bear instincts run deep through his veins. I can see him having twins or even triplets, like a little litter all his own. I see triplets, two boys and a girl. Beorn cannot help the way his often harsh expression softens at his little ones, the hopeful smile that creeps onto his face at the thought of continuing the Skin Changers’ legacy through his sons and daughters, his name-bearers and the one who will choose her own.

Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Message/Reply to join 🥰

[entitled-fangirl]

You've made me worry.

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: The reader stands by while her Mandalorian faces a near-death situation. The two realize their feelings for each other.

Words: 2,705

Warning: Near-death situation, crying, explosions, Din actually talking about his feelings....

Masterlist <3

.......................................................

She stood by idly as she watched Cobb Vanth and her Mandalorian scope out the dangers of the Krayt Dragon. 

She stood on the sand, her body close to Mando’s in comfort. She was worried. Quite worried. She knew Mando could protect himself just fine, and he often did so, but it didn’t stop her rambunctious mind from coming up with the worst possible scenario.

The Mandalorian’s mind wasn’t too far off from those thoughts as well. He should’ve left her and the kid somewhere safe, somewhere away from what was to happen, but he didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to leave them out of his sightline. At least here, he could see for himself that they were alright. 

A shrill cry sounded through the valley as the sand people below began to panic.

She started to as well. She pulled the child closer to her body. It reassured him that he was safe, but she didn’t do it for him. She did it for her. She needed to know he was going to be safe.

The ground in the valley began to move and the Krayt Dragon emerged from the sand. Its mouth opened, showing its long, sharp teeth. It practically swallowed some of the sand people in front of it. 

The sand people tried shooting at it. It seemed to work for a moment, but soon, even the arrows that pierced its skin couldn’t stop it. It drew closer, vomiting acid on the sand people, their screams echoing through the valley.

She felt her stomach drop. She had never seen a Krayt Dragon before. She hadn’t seen many beasts like this before. It made her only admire her Mandalorian even more. He was even stronger than she thought if he felt confident enough in his skills to leave her and the child this close to the scene.

“Almost…,” his voice drew out, waiting for the moment to strike, “…NOW!”

Cobb Vanth pressed the detonator. An explosion under the dragon shook the ground below them. 

She stumbled slightly, unprepared. Mando’s hand shot out to her bicep to steady her. He wasn’t even looking in her direction. He did as if instinct. The child simply continued to tuck his face in her neck. She looked up at her Mando. He held a content look to him, seen just through his body language. The dragon was dead. It worked. 

She felt her body let out a long sigh before a rumbling sound from up the mountain was heard. Another dragon emerged from the top of the mountain. And he seemed much angrier than the first. His vomit fell a long way down the mountain, wiping out many of the people residing below.

“They’re picking us off like womp rats,” Cobb Vanth said as he moved to get his weapons, “Let’s get after it.”

Mando looked up at the dragon with a careful eye before moving to get his own weapon. He walked back to the child and his girl, giving them a knowing look through his helmet. His hand reached up to her cheek, but fell just as quick as it had came. The two beskar wearing warriors took off with their jet packs. 

The woman and child simply watched as they soared through the air. A silent wish left the woman’s mouth in hope that it could protect her Mandalorian.

The two men landed in the valley, Mando’s gaze looking up towards the family he left behind to assure their protection in his mind. That they were far away enough. But he wasn’t sure they were. 

“I’ve got an idea. Get its attention.” Mando commanded.

Cobb Vanth bent down, releasing the small missile from the top of his pack. It exploded against the creature’s head. It turned to look the two dead on, moving its body towards them.

“Well, I got its attention. NOW WHAT?” Cobb Vanth yelled.

But Mando was calm. Collected. His Mandalorian side had come through. And when it did, he could become deadly calm. “You still have that detonator?”

The detonator that connected to the bombs that were loaded onto the Bantha behind them? Of course, he did. Cobb Vanth handed it to him without hesitation. “Take it. What’s the plan?”

Mando looked at him through his visor. “You’re going to take care of the woman and child.”

Cobb Vanth’s head tilted in thought. He would do that for him, but it left a question in his mind, “What are YOU gonna do?”

“I don’t know, but wish me luck.” And with that, Mando hit Cobb Vanth’s jet pack with the butt of his weapon, prompting the jet pack to release its condensed air. Cobb Vanth flew through the air unwillingly, leaving the Mandalorian to face the dragon alone.

It did work. Cobb Vanth landed not too far from the Mandalorian’s little family. He ran to them quickly to not only fulfill the man’s wishes, but to watch what would become of the warrior below.

The woman quickly turned to Cobb Vanth, resting her free hand against his armored chest, her motherly instinct taking over, “You alright?”

He nodded, taking off his helmet. “M'Fine.”

Their attention was turned back to the scene in front of them as the dragon let out another cry. 

Cobb Vanth had never seen the woman so tense. So fearful. She was shaking violently as she could only watch as her Mandalorian could be killed in front of her. In front of the child. 

Mando held the rope to the Bantha as the dragon moved closer and closer. He had to wait for the right moment. Wait for the dragon to get close enough for the plan to work. But the distance between them was shrinking and Mando realized he may not pull this off as well as he had originally thought. 

He stayed put as the dragon lunged forward into the dirt, taking the Bantha and the man in its mouth. 

A loud cry left the woman’s mouth, coming from deep in her throat. She had seen it all happen in front of her. She had seen her greatest fear come to life. Of all the dangerous things she had seen him do, this was the one to take him.

Cobb Vanth let out a sigh, his body moving toward the woman. He gently took the child from her grasp. His other arm moved around her waist, pushing her back into his armor cover chest to give her stability. He felt her body began to rack with sobs, her hands moving to her face to wipe each tear as it fell. 

He felt his heart break at the sight. This was not weeping, or even sobbing. This was the most heart wrenching screams he had ever heard come from a person’s throat. The ground settled, and all that was left was the sand of where he had once stood.

Cobb Vanth began to pull at the woman to pull her away from the scene. She shouldn’t stay here long. She tried to put up a fight, but she knew it was no use. 

They began to walk away as they felt the ground move again. He knew he needed to get her as far away from the scene as possible, but he couldn’t help but look back. Either the dragon was ready to fight once more, or something else was to happen. 

He pulled her back to where they were quickly. 

The dragon emerged from the sand, its mouth opening, revealing electric shocks that came from the inside of its body. Something had flown from its mouth. 

Her heart dropped, her tears stopping suddenly. 

Her Mando.

He turned in the air to look back at the beast before setting off the detonator. 

A huge tremor went through the ground.

She held to Cobb Vanth for support as they watched the dragon explode in the valley.

The Mandalorian landed in front of what was left of its now dead body, the sand falling sand beginning to coat his armor. But he couldn’t care less about that. 

He cared about where Cobb Vanth was with his girl and child. 

Once he regained his composure, he once again flew into the air, searching for where he had left them. And they were there.

He flew toward them quickly, his heart racing at the sight. 

Before he could even land, she was running to him. His feet barely hit the ground before he felt her arms wrap around his neck. 

He felt himself relax before his hands moved to her waist, pushing her back, “Hey.” Her eyes met his visor. “Don’t. I… I’m covered in mucus..”

Now he could truly see her face. The tear stains on her soft cheeks. The tremble her bottom lip still held. The sand that coated her hair. And the relieved look she held in her eye. 

“I don’t care.”

That was enough for him to pull her to him tightly. Their bodies pressed each other as close as possible, his armor being the only thing that separates them. 

Cobb Vanth smiled at the scene, moving himself forward towards the warrior. The child in his arms babbled. “That was some scene you pulled there, Mando.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet shifted up from its resting spot against her head as he looked up at the man. “Got it done, didn’t I?”

Cobb Vanth laughed at that, “Kriff. ‘Bout killed us all. Almost killed her.” His head motioned forward at the girl in Mando’s grasp.

She pulled back from him gently, her body now covered in mucus in certain places. The temporary sticky feeling was worth the permanent relief she had in her heart. 

His helmet shifted down to look at her, “That true, Cyar’ika?”

She let out a small sniffle, now slightly embarrassed at the men’s stares, “y…yeah…”

A soft laugh came from Mando’s helmet, his stature relaxing more and more by the second. She was so sweet. So caring for him. His hand moved back down her her waist, leading her off, “C’mon Mesh’la. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Cobb Vanth followed behind them with the child, a shit eating grin on his face.

…

A few hours later, the Mandalorian sat at the table of Cobb Vanth’s home. The sheriff himself sat across from him at said table, drinking from a glass of splotchka. The helmet-wearing man’s gaze shifted to the side of the room, where the girl lay on the cot set out for her, her body relaxed and her face holding a peaceful expression as she slept. 

“Ya know,” Cobb Vanth said, bringing the Mandalorian out of his thoughts, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The Mandolorian’s head shifted back to look at the man. “…seen what?”

Cobb Vanth’s gaze moved to the girl. “Never seen a girl care for a Mandalorian that much.”

Silence filled the room as he considered the sheriff’s words. The man took a drink, continuing his words. “She’s something else, Mando. I’d keep her around.”

Mando became defensive at the talk of her like that. He didn’t like anyone discussing her, even the sheriff. His voice dropped slightly, “I intend to.”

Cobb Vanth grinned, “Good. She’s good for you, for the kid. She’s a pretty thing though.” He leaned on the table to let his voice drop, “Word of advice, Mando? I wouldn’t just keep her around. I’d keep her very close.  Dangerous to be traveling with a defenseless thing like that. Pretty, smart, caring. Anybody would snatch her up if they got the chance.”

“They won’t get the chance.”

Cobb Vanth nods, “I believe you.”

…

The next morning, the girl awoke to see the Mandalorian sitting at the table, polishing one of his blasters with a rag. She stretched, letting out a soft sigh. His head perked up to look at her. She felt his gaze on her, watching her every move as if she could disappear if he turned his back.

“‘Morning, Mando.”

He nods his head to her, “Good morning, Cyare.”

She stands up, stretching her legs with another sigh. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes still puffy from the previous day’s excursion, but he still admired her as if she was an angel.

“Cyar’ka…?”

She moved to the table to sit, her body now residing in the chair beside him, “…Mando?”

A sigh left his lips. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. 

“Were you truly worried for me yesterday? You mourned?”

Her eyes flashed with embarrassment before they went back. Her hand began to rub her leg like she does when she’s anxious. He had seen her do it many times before. His hand reached out to steady it under the table.

“…tell me, Cyare.”

Her eyes looked to his visor where she thought his eyes would be before a small nod of her head gave him the message he wished he would get.

His own helmet nods now. He’s never been good at this kind of thing, but now he was going to have to learn.

“Thank you.”

Her eyebrows knit in confusion. “…what?”

His voice came out more confident the second time, “I said ‘Thank you.’”

“…why?”

She couldn’t see his jaw clench under his helmet in thought.

“…You’ve made me worry, Cyar’ika.”

She let out a soft laugh, “And that’s something to be thankful for?”

He nods, his voice strong, “Very much so.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant. Her face must have shown her thoughts because the Mandalorian continued. 

“…I have things I worry for now. So, I will say it again. Thank you.”

“…the child, you mean? You’re thankful for the child?”

He nods, his helmet moving side to side, “Yes. I am. Of course. But that’s not what I meant.”

She leaned forward onto the table, “I don’t think I understand, Mando.”

His hand reached out, touching her cheek as it had the day before. Only now, it stayed there. “I worry for you, Mesh’la. Every time I look away, I fear you’ll be taken from me, as if you’re just a dream. But you’re not a dream. You’re here. And… you care for the child in ways I never could. You make him feel safe, and loved and…,” he stops considering if he should say his next words, “… I want to make you feel safe and loved, Mesh’la. I do. I can’t describe how worried I was for you. If I had made the wrong decision and brought you two to your death yesterday. It eats at me, knowing that one day, I may not be there when something happens. When something goes wrong. I worry for you every second. If you’re eating. If you rest enough. If you’re happy. If you’re tired. If you’re scared. If you care for me as much as I do for you…”

Silence falls in the room as both of them are taking in what he said. Even Mando didn’t think that would come out. But it had. And it had all been true. 

She takes a deep breath, “I care for you, Mand-“

“Din.”

Her eyes widen, “…Din?”

An audible breath leaves his lungs at the sound of his name on her lips. He nods.

She continues, “I thought you died.”

“You thought I’d leave you and the child?”

He said it with no hesitation. As if it was a ridiculous thought for her to be worried about. 

“…I watched it swallow you whole, M…. Din.”

“I’d crawl out from the grave back to you.”

She was utterly speechless. He held no hesitation to him. He was so confident in his words. It left her a little breathless at his wording. 

“…you…you would?”

He nods, “I’d do a lot worse for you.”

More silence falls over the room before a realization is in her eyes.

“Where’s the child?”

He wished she could see his lips pull into a grin under the mask. “He’s fine. Cobb Vanth has him.”

She relaxes in her chair at that. Her own lips pull into a smile of her own, “…Strange little family we’ve made, Din. Don’t you think?”

His hand goes over hers, his gloved fingers toying with hers.

“I’d rather worry over you two than anyone else in the galaxy.”

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[tiredmamaissy]

omg we need a high issy talks with ralak

In honor of 5098 followers I thought I’d do my first Ralak Drabble (although this is more of a fic honestly) this isn’t my best work because I wrote this piece by piece over a period of time

MNDI 🔞 sex pollen, size kink, thigh riding, p in v

Ever since Ronal and Tsireya found out how knowledgeable you are about the herbs of pandora - thanks to your grandmother - they’ve recruited you for training to be a healer. Ralak, who just so happens to be your first patient, has done nothing but boast about your skills to Tonowari. Albeit few words, he’s made it clear to the Olo’eyktan that you are more than capable of some of the most beneficial tasks.

Weaving. Sewing. Healing.

It had become obvious where you would fall into place in the clan now that you’ve passed your iknimaya - right next to ronal in the healing hut. Let’s not forget to mention how ecstatic Kiri was to have you by her side as well. Ralak was more than happy when you told him the news of your newfound position in his - your, village. So much so that he often encouraged you to have an early start to your day, welcoming you into the new day with breakfast in bed as per usual.

Today seemed to just be another day.

“Wake up, tanhì. Big day ahead of you.” Ralak hums lowly, nudging you awake with one hand whilst the other holds a platter of fruit and steamed buns.

Your eyes burn as they struggle to open, brows scrunching together when the first ray of sunlight shines in your face. Village life didn’t start this early back home. You groan as you sit up and shuffle back into the wall of marui, watching through squinted eyes as Ralak carefully places the tray on your lap.

For a moment, you’re confused. Unsure of what big day you have ahead of you. “Big day?”

“My numeyu. We must work on your memory next.” He chuckles to himself, turning his heel to walk toward a makeshift closet near your marui door. He retrieves his favourite top of yours, crimson leaves secured together with the finest, most durable thread in Awa’atlu. As he turns around and makes his way back over to you with a slight smile, he utters the accented words. “Today you go inland with Ronal.”

“Ah, yes.” You nod as the words slip from your tongue, raspy and gruff. He places the top next to you on the cot, hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear on its way back to his side.

How could I forget?

After a few weeks of training with Ronal, she determined you fit to accompany her and the rest of the healers inland to gather supplies and herbs. Only the most equipped were allowed inland - strong warriors and healers, like Ralak, who lead most parties heading that direction.

“Are you coming, too?” You ask with full cheeks, voice perking up as you shovel your breakfast in.

“Not today.” He smiles wide, moving swiftly towards his spears, meticulously displayed with pride. “Today, I relax.”

Surprised that he’s not choosing to loom over you like a child, your brows jump as the jelly-glazed corner of your mouth pulls into a slight smirk. You nod as you hurry to gulp down your last bite of food, back of your hand wiping your mouth clean. “If anyone deserves to relax, it’s you lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles, chucking the spears over his shoulder, “I only stay because wari is going with you.”

“Of-course.” You mumble under your breath, rolling your eyes to land them on the top laid out beside you.

——

The trek inland is nothing to graze over. The foliage is so thick and luscious. It’s been a while since you’ve seen so much blue and purple - so much flora. It’s mesmerizing, hearing the faint calls of the hiding fauna around you. Ironically, you felt like a fish out of water back at the shore, and more at home the further you ventured into the thick jungle. Ronal and Tonowari stay far ahead of everyone, guiding you all towards a small clearing. Everyone kept up great.

Except you.

Being smaller than the average na’vi had its benefits, and keeping up with a crowd just wasn’t one of them. You find yourself at the back, stumbling and tripping over your own two left feet. And it didn’t help that there was a large, heavy bag strapped to your back either. Despite the obstacles in your way, you were able to keep the rest of the group in sight.

Ronal would look back at you now and then, checking that you were still in some sort of close distance. She wasn’t the most patient with you, nor the rest of your family. She was pretty much tolerating you under the order of her mate, and out of respect for Ralak. She’d stop the party to gather a few herbs, taking the chance to teach a lesson or two. After each harvest she’d project her voice over the crowd, describing the appearance and properties of her herb and most of all - what not to pick.

There was a few things to stay clear of. A large, spiked red vine, as it causes blindness. A blue, short and stubby mushroom, as it causes severe stomach pains. And a lilac flower with open petals and a deep blue stem. If the petals were closed, the gas would be held inside the plant, keeping its stimulant properties under control. Once bloomed, and if even touched, the effects would set in within 10 minutes.

A few na’vi asked what exactly would happen, but Ronal would only answer with a stern voice.

“It is an itch you cannot scratch. There is no antidote. Do not touch it, no matter how pretty. It is beautiful for a reason. Do not be fooled.”

The sea of na’vi mumble among themselves, keeping their chins tucked to their chests to keep an eye out for the few forbidden flora. Meanwhile, you’re too caught up with trying to keep up with the crowd and not get lost that you didn’t realize you were indeed already lost.

However, you aren’t as lost as you originally thought. You’re in an area familiar to you and Ralak - the jungle behind the cave.

Your sputtering feet come to a standstill, hands flying to your knees for support as you catch your breath. You look around, scanning the familiar bearing fruit trees and vines connecting the thick canopy together. You often came here when you felt homesick, except you were a bit further out than you usually go. You drop your head, beads of sweet dripping from your forehead onto your feet. For a moment, your vision blurs, toes buried in the tall blades of grass doubling in number.

“Whoa.” You huff out, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to see clearly. And as everything merged together, the image of a beautiful, blossomed lilac flower brushing against your ankle becomes clear as day.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath, reflexively retreating your foot until you’re tumbling back onto your behind. With your hands supporting your torso and your legs open, you have a clear view of the most breathtaking flora you’ve ever seen. And honestly, had Ronal not warned you about it, you would’ve picked it immediately. Instead, you back away, scuffling on all fours to get back on your feet so you can dart towards your marui.

“Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You blabber as you run as fast as your two left feet can go, absolutely drenched in sweat. You feel like you can’t even breathe. As if your throat was closing up. You grit your teeth, preparing yourself for the worst rash and itch of your life. Surely yalnabark will fix you up. Or maybe Kiri has some sort of concoction that she can smear all over you. Or perhaps -

“There is no antidote…” Ronals warped and distorted voice cuts off your train or thought.

“Fuck. I’m so fucked. So, so fucked.” You mumble to yourself, words slurring together as if you had a little bit too much pxir (alcohol).

Alcohol.

Ralak.

Surely he would know what to do. He always knows what to do. Right?

The thud of your feet grows louder as you near your marui - bright orange and blue decorative material shining through your hazy vision. You feel like calling out for him right now. To scream his name so he can find you and make it all better. But when you open your mouth you can’t find your voice to speak.

You focus your energy on getting back home, jumping over the large jutting roots until your toes sink into the coarse sand. You’re here. Ralaks scent is confirmation of that. You can smell him from here and all you want and to do is bathe yourself in it. Snout following the scent of your mate, you outright float towards the source. And then it hits you.

The strangest inching sensation you’ve ever felt in your entire life. It’s like a low sting, pricking your skin and opening your pores, allowing even more sweat to seep out. A tingle right under your skin yet deep in the tissue. An itch you couldn’t scratch. It radiates most from the place right between your shoulders and -

Legs.

“Wait. Already?” You mutter, feeling something wet smear on your inner thigh as you slither under the flap of your Marui. Has it been that long? There’s no way your heat could come this early. So what is this? The effects of the flower? The sound of your own chattering teeth snaps you out of your deep thought.

You look ahead of you, seeing Ralaks aura around him, still and unmoving as he sleeps peacefully. Soundly. Your unsuspecting mate. Naked and exposed before your two glazed eyes. His chest moves slowly - rhythmically. And as your blurred vision trails down, you’re able to make out the definition of his muscular thighs, despite them being unflexed and completely relaxed. He’s in such a serene state. It’s probably the first nap he’s had in weeks.

Yet your legs keep moving on their own, creeping closer as you stalk your prey. That area between your thighs craved satiation. Craved a stimulation that only something as thick and firm as his thigh could provide. It’s clean and bare, slightly damp from his bath. And when the image of your slickened folds pressed firmly against it floods your mind you can’t help but squeeze your thighs closer together as you approach your mate.

At this point your vision is completely blurred and your heart is galloping at the rate of a direhorse. All you can think about is how good he’d feel between your legs.

So you allow yourself the pleasure.

The pleasure of climbing on top of his large physique and settling yourself comfortably on this lap. Your cunt is pressed so firmly against his thigh that your wet folds have no other choice but to spread, exposing your clit. And when your hot clit finally makes contact with his thigh you let out a sigh of relief, although it come out as a breathy moan.

Your eyes fall shut, hands scrambling around to find some sort of support when they finally land the curve of his waist. Your hips begin to move by themselves, humping at his thigh like an na’vi experiencing their first heat. Heat. It feels that way. Just without the intense brain fog and overwhelming need to be filled. This is more of an itch most concentrated right on the bundle of nerves above your leaking slit.

And the more you grind into him the more relief you feel.

“Tanhì… what are you doing?” Ralak croaks, looking up at you through furrowed brows.

His hoarse voice would have surprised you if you weren’t so caught up with using him like some sort of sex toy. His muscles provided just the right amount of pressure, but when he suddenly shoves his leg upwards you outright cry out in unadulterated pleasure. “Oh - fuck!”

“So. You see my cock and go for my thigh, hm?” Ralak laughs. A loud, short laugh of amusement. But when he sees your fucked out face, pinched brows and drool dribbling down your chin, his laugh fades out into a huff. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he watches your tiny frame work so hard on his thigh of all places. He loves to see you like this. Taking whats yours. Doing it all on your own and doing such a good job at it. The sight makes him hard in seconds, cock springing up to slap against your stomach.

“Answer me, my little one.” He hums, eyes trailing up and down your dark blue, slender frame.

You can’t. Not when you feel this good. His thigh is like ice on a burn.

“Tanhì.” He lets out a deep growl, hands darting to grip your hips tightly.

“It’s itchy lak! It’s r-really itchy!” You blurt out, eyes snapping open to meet his lustful, yet worried gaze.

He watches for a while, a little surprised by your aggressive advances. He loves when you wake him up like this, but something was a little… off.

“Itchy?” Ralak echoes your word, sitting up to nuzzle his nose into your neck for a quick whiff. To his surprise, you smell like -

Nothing. Your natural scent. No pheromones. Just his usual Tanhì, like the Navi of the forest. Yet you look like you’re in the thick of your heat.

“Fuck! Don’t move!” You shout, shoving him back down onto his back to hump at his thigh even harder.

He looks down at his thigh, watching as it’s completely coated and covered in a glossy layer of your slick, so much so it’s practically dipping onto his bed. It makes his stomach tighten, painfully hard cock now oozing it’s own slick onto his length.

“But you already had your heat.” He spits the words, too mesmerized by the way your pussy lips are rubbing against his skin.

“I-I I don’t know! I’m sorry!” You cry out, tears welling up in your eyes until they have no where to go but down your cheeks.

“Don’t - don’t be.” He reassures you, sliding a hand down his thigh until his thumb presses against your swollen clit. “What did you eat?”

Your body grinds into his touches, desperate for relief to this maddening itch. “N-Nothing!”

You’re so close.

“…what did you touch? A flower?” He asks in a serious tone, voice bouncing from the mere force of your thrusts.

“Y-Yes! A purple flower - it touched my leg. I - oh, lak. ‘Ts so itchy. ‘M s-so close!” You outright whimper, slowing your thrusts so they’re short and rough. “Please! C-Can’t you make it stop?”

“I cannot. It is aphrodisiac. No antidote.” He states, eyes glued to your cunt rubbing against him. “You have to…“ his grip on your hips tightens, shifting you over so your cunt is flush against his rock hard, warm cock. “…ride it out.”

He begins thrusting his hips, allowing his length to glide back and forth against your clit, right between your slippery pussy lips. His fingers dig into your skin, leaving little marks behind on the dips of your hips, using them as leverage to… help you out.

With you rolling your hips into him, and him grinding his cock into you, you can’t help but let loose the budding tension in your core.

“G-Gonna cum!” You moan, feeling the heated coil snap in two.

“Cum. Cum for me, tanhì.” He groans, angling his hips just right so he can slam his entire cock inside of your tight cunt. “Let me feel it.”

The sudden stretch has you whining and whimpering, body desperately trying to adjust to his size all while being pushed over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you like a cool waterfall on a hot day, momentarily satiating that itch deep within your core.

“Shit.” He grunts, eyelids fluttering shut to focus on how tight your cunt is squeezing him. “So tight. So tiny.”

“Ralak!” His name rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, your gummy walls throbbing around his cock as you continue to ride out your high. He holds you tightly, supporting you as your body trembles in top of him, thumb swiping your pulsating clit at a merciless pace. It’s all so overstimulating, too much but not enough all at once.

You just came yet you need more. The itch is still there and it’s only getting more intense the more you sink down onto his cock.

“N-Need more. Please. Need more!” You whine needily, rolling your hips in a circle so his tip is massaging into your cervix.

“Easy tanhì. Take your time.” Ralak chuckles, swiftly laying you on your back to have his way with you.

——

[mydearlybeloathed]

Hiii! Can you do neteyam x fem!na’vi reader where they first start dating; it’s kinda awkward cuddling and kissing and it feels unnatural to the reader from not being loved on enough as a child and neteyam confronts reader saying like “do I make you feel uncomfortable?” And readers like “no im sorry I just was never showed this much affection.” And he reassures her abt, it if that makes sense!, Thank you <3

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you weren’t exactly used to the affection neteyam so easily gave you.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neteyam sully x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: mention of death, harsh parental figure

𝐚/𝐧: this was so fun to write. it kinda came out a bit more angsty than I intended. I hope its what you wanted :)

also i made up a na'vi word: Le'awtulant. its a combo of le'awtu (lonely) and lante (wander).

It hadn't been but a few months since Neteyam completed his rite of passage, going through each trial and coming out victorious. He was a man, the heir of Toruk Makto, and everyone had their eyes on him.

You'd completed your passage just before him, becoming an adult in the eyes of your clan, and quickly grew a reputation for being quite the hunter among the older Na'vi.

Despite what your guardian, Zet'ka, advised, you hadn't put any effort into searching for a mate out of the many young Na'vi in the clan. Thinking about it sent a rush of nerves into your belly. The most recent time Zet'ka brought it up, you'd gone quiet and stilled in the fixing of your bow.

"I'm just saying," she says, watching as your careful movements continued. "You are a beautiful woman, and you have a strong heart. You could have anyone you wanted if you stopped being so elusive."

You rolled your eyes, ears going flat against your head. Your tail flickered in annoyance, your hands not as gentle as before as you restrung your bow. "I have other things to focus on, Zet'ka."

"Like what?" Your ears twitched at the sternness in her voice.

Zet'ka was always firm, ever since you were a child, left with no parents after an accident in the Hallelujah Mountains. They'd happened upon an ikran nest full of eggs, and... it hadn't gone well.

A sharp tug on your braids had you recoiling from the woman. Zet'ka gripped your shoulder and put you back in place. "Still. Your hair is a mess, Y/N."

You sat and waited for her to finish, gripping your bow as every pull of her hands had you wincing. Zet'ka meant well, she always did, but she'd never smiled as far as you know, and raised you to be a warrior worthy to be counted Omatikaya.

It had been some time since you'd connected with the spirit tree, and you wondered if going back might do you some good. Maybe your parents would appear to you this time.

Zet'ka finished your braids by the time night had fallen, and the clan was beginning to tire from a day of work. The woman patted your shoulder before standing. "I raised you to be better than this. I raised you as a warrior, not Le'awtulant."

You flinched at the word, your hands tightening into uncomfortable fists. Lonely wanderer. Someone the clan doesn't know what to make of. A familiar outsider.

Zet'ka sighed. "You know I only want what's best for you, Y/N."

You stood and faced her with a rigid back, eyes and expression steady. "I know, Zet'ka."

She left you there, allowing you to relax under her scrutinizing eyes. Exhausted, you headed to your hammock high up in the trees overlooking the village. You'd made it halfway there when rain began to fall from the sky, causing your body to sag with the weight of the day.

With your ears flat and tail drooped, arms wrapped around yourself, you hurried for the first dry place you could think of: Olo'eyktan Jake.

It had been awkward, asking the chief for shelter from the rain. It was no secret you were one of the loners of the clan. So, he just nodded as he directed you to find his daughters' hut, just along the next branch of the large tree.

You gave him a grateful nod and headed over, rushing through the increasingly heavy rain. You thought you heard thunder in the distance, but it didn't really settle in. Because now you were standing in front of the entrance to the chief's daughters' hut, and you had no idea what to say.

Tuk and Kiri were nice. You often saw them around the village when you weren't out hunting with the others. Kiri hung out with the alien, the one they call Spider, an awful lot. Tuk could often be found making mischief anywhere she went.

But you'd never spoken to them before. Sure, you knew of each other, but only because you and Kiri used to play together as children, before your parents passed and before she clung to Spider like glue.

Pushing your hand against the flap of the hut, you peeked inside to find the sisters stoking the fire at the center of the circle room. Kiri's eyes darted to you the moment the flap came undone from where she'd tied it down. Her ears twitched curiously. "Y/N?"

You waved with an awkward smile. "Hi, Kiri. Uhm, Olo'eyktan told me to come here, since I usually stay in a hammock and... it's raining so..."

Tuk's face erupted into a bright smile. "Come on, come on."

Kiri pointed as you stepped inside. "And secure that flap."

You did as she directed and turned, fiddling with the beads around your neck. "I'm sorry to be intruding, I--"

"Don't worry," Kiri said, grinning just slightly. "We have room--"

All three of you jerked as thunder cracked against the sky. Your heart skipped as your eyes flickered over the ceiling, waiting. The rain only grew in power.

Kiri looked back at you, then at the roof. She waved you over as she sat down on the surplus of woven blankets she and Tuk had laid out. "Come 'ere. It's warmer near the center."

You wasted no time in making your way over, welcoming the warm feel of the flames as you accepted the blanket Tuk offered you. "Thanks."

The thunder returned, louder than before. Tuk flinched into Kiri's side.

Not even a second later, the flap reopened, this time letting in a gust of wind that nearly took out the fire. You and Kiri growled in unison as you whipped around to see two figures stumbling inside, bickering as they did.

"Neteyam!" Lo'ak hissed, trying to reach for the flap as it whipped around in the wind. "Close it! Close it!"

The elder Sully fell inside, literally, yelping as he tripped over his brother's feet. Tuk leaped up and ran to help, gripping onto the flap in seconds and having it tied back down and extra secure in seconds. No wind got inside after that.

The lot of you stayed in silence for a moment, before Kiri huffed and stood to swat at her brothers. "Idiots! Both of you!"

Lo'ak hissed when she slapped his arm, pursing his lips. Neteyam stood, his braids hanging over his face before he tossed them back. Both of them were soaking wet, getting water all over the floor. Neteyam caught your gaze, his heavy breathing calming as you darted your eyes away.

"What are you doing?" Kiri asked, incredulous, hands on her hips.

Neteyam turned away from you, straightening out his shoulders just for him to laugh bashfully under Kiri's stare. He rubbed at the back of his neck and shot Lo'ak a teasing grin. "Lo'ak--"

"We!" Lo'ak shouted pointedly. "We--"

"We," Neteyam continued, grinning. "Were scared."

Kiri rolled her eyes so far they could've disappeared into her skull. "Fine. Just don't fling water on me."

You couldn't help but snort at the exchange, hiding your smile behind your hand. Lo'ak noticed you then, tilting his head in question. "Y/N?"

Before you could even formulate a reply, Neteyam spoke up as he went to kneel by Kiri. "She sleeps out in the trees, Lo'ak. The storm forced her inside."

Your brows rose at that, tail flicking curiously. "Yeah, what he said."

The night dragged on, no one being able to sleep with the storm in full rage outside. Somehow, you'd been rearranged in your seats, so now you and Neteyam found yourselves side by side, some good space between you.

Though, every once in a while, his tail would brush yours, causing you to tense and wrap the excited appendage around yourself.

You didn't know how the conversation drifted to the subject of mates, but you wanted to change it very fast. But, unlike with Zet'ka, you weren't the one the teasing was directed at.

Lo'ak's eyes danced mischievously. "And then this real Cassanova--"

"Lo'ak."

"--he steps on her tail--"

"Lo'ak."

"--and says he's not interested." The younger Sully brother shook his head in amusement. "And Mom wonders why Neteyam hasn't landed a woman yet."

The man in question sits stiffly, his arms resting on his knees, his eyes narrowed at his brother. His tail brushes your side in its angry sweep across the floor. "Shut up."

Kiri rolls her eyes for what was probably the tenth time that night and scooted closer to the flames. "Leave him alone, Lo. He doesn't have to choose a mate if he doesn't want to."

Something about her words made you feel validated, and you found yourself speaking up for the first time. "If you're so concerned, Lo'ak, surely you've got your eye on someone, right? You've almost completed your passage."

Now with the attention thrown on him, Lo'ak didn't look so amused anymore. He grumbled something under his breath. "... No."

You tsked, dragging your gaze to meet Neteyam's next to you. "Ah, yeah. Too bad things with that one girl didn't work out."

Lo'ak's ears fell flat against his head. "You swore."

You ignored him, turning further to face Neteyam as his expression shifted from frustration to hilarity. "So I'm sitting up in my hammock, right?"

"Y/N."

"Just carving into some wood."

"Y/N."

"Hush. And I look down to see Lo'ak with the sweetest girl. Nali, I think." Kiri gasped, catching on, grinning from ear to ear. Lo'ak was burying himself in the blankets, probably hoping for suffocation. "He calls her pretty and gives her a flower, not listening to a word she tries to say, just for her intended to jump out and shove him away."

The laugh that escapes Neteyam is a hearty sound, light and easy on the ears. Tuk and Kiri laughed too, but you really only heard him. The sound made it difficult to look away from him, but you managed, if only to see the mess that was Lo'ak. From somewhere amidst his blanket tomb, he raised his middle finger.

Lifting your own three-fingered hand, you push down your first two digits and hold up the third. You stare at the gesture as Lo'ak emerges to find you squinting at your hands. "I don't understand your four-fingered gesture."

Your response only sent the other four into a fit of laughter that had you confused, but giggling along with them all the same. By morning, you were sad to see the storm fading, having had too much fun just talking with the Sully kids.

It'd been too long since you'd let yourself relax like that, you realized.

You thought that things would go back to normal, and you would stick to yourself like you always had, only talking to the others in your hunting party and Zet'ka on occasion, but you were very wrong.

Months went by where a day hadn't ended till at least one of the Sully kids had found you, wherever you were hiding that day. Sometimes it was Tuk who needed someone to force her siblings to let her tag along with them. Or Neteyam wanted to hunt with her. Other days Lo'ak invited her to explore with Kiri and Spider. Neteyam would ask to fly on the ikran together. Kiri would beg you to join in her healing lessons, hoping your presence would force away the boredom. Neteyam just wanted to talk sometimes. A lot of the time he just wanted to talk, or fly, or hunt, or just about anything of the like.

It made you blush to think about it.

The name Neteyam became as easy as breathing. You actively searched him out in a crowd, finding his eyes already having found you. You hadn't ever laughed as much as he made you laugh, smiled as much as he made you smile.

Soon enough, you couldn't deny the growing tension festering between you and the elder Sully brother. You couldn't deny it, not in your heart, but you could avoid it just fine.

That's what you were doing now as you stormed through the dense forest, paying no mind to the man trailing in your wake. Your heart beat more wildly in your chest each time he said your name.

"Y/N," he called, trying to reach for your hand. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

"Nothing!" You exasperated, finally turning and throwing your hands up. "You've done nothing."

He didn't look convinced. "Then why," he demanded, "are you actively running away from me." Your tail swished defensively at that. "All I asked was if you wanted to stay with Kiri again. Rain clouds are rolling in."

In the quiet that followed, all you could do with cross your arms and look somewhere behind him, almost haughty when you said, "You make a good point, and I'm choosing to ignore it."

Neteyam cracked a grin, taking a step closer to you. You stood and watched, your ears darting forward at the sound of a twig underfoot. "Are you upset with me?"

Though he smiled, the question in his eyes was desperate. He was desperate to fix anything he had done. It sent you into a tizzy of slight guilt and the urge to assure him he was nothing but perfect in your eyes. Your cheeks warmed at the sudden thought.

"No," you said with a sigh, your arms dropping to your sides. "I appreciate your concern, Neteyam. I think I'll see if Zet'ka will let me in. I don't want to burden your sisters--"

"You're kidding, right?" He was almost laughing at you now. "They love you. Kiri was the one who wanted me to ask, actually."

Your tail wriggled excitedly. "She did?"

He nodded, tilting his head as his braids fell over his shoulder with the movement. Then, his expression wasn't so humorous, thoughts racing behind his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe?"

You turned away from him, starting to continue your walk, pushing a large leaf out of your way. "Maybe."

In seconds he was walking at your side, his eyes on your profile. "Well, believe it. All three of them speak only highly of you."

"And you?" The words were out before you could stop them. Wincing, you made another turn, hopping over a fallen log.

His brief silence made your embarrassment worsen, but it was quickly--very quickly--replaced with a panicked jump of your heart. "A day has not ended till Lo'ak tells me to shut up about you."

Your hand froze in its path of pushing down a loose tree branch. Shaking your head, you surged on through the forest. Neteyam noticed the tension in your whole body; how your tail was alert and your back too properly straight.

Thoughts scrambled around your head up until you stopped at the bank of a river gently cutting across the forest floor. When you sensed Neteyam at your shoulder, you turned your face away from him, saying softly, "I have no one to speak to, but if I did, I'd speak only of you."

Hesitantly, Neteyam's hand found your wrist, gently sliding down to intertwine your fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath, not daring to look at him. The feel of his hand on yours, the way his soft exhale fanned your neck, it was almost too much.

Closing your eyes, you evened out your breathing. "You make me crazy."

"Funny," he whispered. "I think I was crazy till I got to know you."

You grinned despite yourself, recalling that little boy who used to tug on your tail just to make you angry. "You were."

"Look at me." You faltered at the words, not so much a command, but a delicately toned question. "Please."

Without so much as a pause, you'd turned, hand adjusting in his, and met his eyes that burned right into you. How long had it been since you'd befriended him? Three months? Four? It felt like a lifetime. You'd always known him, in your mind, known him as well as you knew yourself.

You knew his favorite hunting spot, the way he liked to string his bow, how he braided his hair. You think you'd memorized each stripe on his body with the way you so often gazed at his toned muscles.

It was terrifying, but Neteyam had fought his way into your heart, no matter how much you tried to force him out.

"You don't have to be so guarded... I See you, Y/N."

His hand moved to cup your face, drawing you out of your thoughts. You flinched away, surprised, suddenly stepping out of his reach. Your arms wrapped around you, shivering though the air wasn't cold. You refused to look at him again.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping further away from you. "I didn't... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's..." You sighed, frustrated with words and how they so often escape you. With a hand to your temple, you glance up at him, praying that Eywa will give you the right things to say. "You know what they call me."

Neteyam nodded. "I do." He ducked his head to catch your eyes when you returned them to the ground. "I don't care what they say."

"Neither do I," you snap. A sigh leaves you. "But they're right. I'm... not used to this."

He looks confused as you gesture at the space between you. "Used to what?"

"This! You." Your gaze interlocks with his. Your veins tingled, the forest around you seeming to still as Eywa answered with a supply of just the right words. "How kind you are to me. How much I care for you. How easily you just say things and mean them. I'm jealous."

Your heart was quick and your eyes were like a fire bearing your innermost thoughts in its tendrils. "And I'm scared. You will grow tired of me. A Le'awtulant is not a Tsahik."

In an instant his brows were drawn and his lips curved down into a scowl. "Don't call yourself that."

Ears flat against his head, he steps closer, leaving just enough room between the two of you. "You are Y/N. Not what they say you are. Not what Zet'ka says you are."

Never had you felt so see-through as his fangs bared at the sound of your guardian's name. Was her coldness so obvious, or was it the way you cowered from her, how you clung to her every word?

Either way, you felt a burn in your throat as Neteyam stepped closer still, yet not enough. "You are you, not a cruel label." His hand extended, palm up, his eyes losing the ferocity just enough for you to feel his sincerity.

"You are Y/N, and I See you." He watched you stare at his hand, silently begging you to believe what he was saying "You won't ever have to wander again, if you'll have me."

Swift, your hand slipped into his, and your body collided with his. You left his hand and wrapped your arms around his middle before you could lose your nerve. Cringing, you waited.

His touch was featherlight as he embraced you tightly. Your face relaxed as your temple rested on his shoulder and his own leaned against your head. A shiver ran up your spine as his tail wound around your leg, yours in turn brushing along his thigh instinctively.

So softly you feared he might actually hear you, you spoke, "I See you, Neteyam."

He pulled back, his movements slow, and touched his forehead to yours. A barely there smile rose to his face, and soon a matching one appeared on yours. Rain started to trickle down through the trees, sending the two of you into soft laughter.

You hadn't mated that evening. Neither of you were too eager to grow up too much too fast. For now, things were gradual, and just slightly more obvious to all those around.

If someone wanted to find Y/N, they were directed to find Neteyam. If someone was in search of Neteyam, they should find Y/N. You knew the whispers, and so did he. The future Olo'eyktan with a Le'awtulant? The both of you happily ignored everything anyone had to say about the matter.

Jake was shocked. He recalled how his jaw fell slack as he watched the pair of you from across the hunting party's bonfire. His son left a swift kiss on your cheek, and you shied away with a gentle smile, reaching to take his hand as your tails twinned together.

He was happy, just shocked. He always took you for the celibate type, so to speak.

Neytiri wasn't so surprised. She had a keen eye and even sharper ears. The mother saw how his son gazed at you with an air of fondness and longing. She noticed how your eyes always lingered on him a little longer than needed.

She knew it was only a matter of time before tensions and stares came to fruition.

As for Zet'ka, she never addressed it outright. But you could see from her approving glances and subtle nods that she was happy for you, or as happy as such a woman could be.

Time moved on, and each slight touch from your lover didn't elicit an awkward flick of your ears as often. After some time, it was you who reached up to kiss his face, littering featherlight touches to his jaw and brow and eyes--and then his lips.

You would tug on the end of his tail as you walked past him. You only giggled when he whipped around, fangs bared in a hiss, only for his whole face to soften at the sound of your laugh.

Mo'at promptly swept you under her metaphorical wing, saying her grandson's mate would have to know a thing or two about healing. If you were to be Tsahik one day, she told you, you'd have to know the job.

You felt honored each time she said something like that.

Slowly, as each day drew on, you found yourself being brought into the Sully family whether you liked it or not (you liked it more than you would admit).

Every night--the one's that weren't marked by a rainshower--you and Neteyam climbed up through the branches of the trees, up to the hammock you used to call home, but now called just a place, where you slept in the arms of your beloved.

The people who called you the name you didn't care to remind yourself of fell few and far between, till no one could remember the Le'awtulant of Omaticaya, and only knew Y/N, most likely to be Neteyam's Tsahik.

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

“Hey, Bee Face?” 

Russetfrond had been starting to drift as he watched Mystique train with the apprentices but her voice pulled him back into focus. 

“Yes?” he frowned out of habit despite the fact that he and the kittypet had been getting along a lot better lately. They were honestly getting along a little too well for his liking, although the guilt he felt over his first major indiscretion as a warrior wasn’t enough to stop him from continuing to be indiscreet. It had become an excitingly ill advised routine to sneak off with her every couple days for a bit of private fun. She’d promised to keep it a secret even if she didn’t seem to understand why and he had been grateful. 

He realized he was drifting again when she said, “Hello? You there?” 

“What?” he blinked and Floodpaw and Barleypaw chuckled softly to themselves. 

“I said,” Mystique frowned, looking green in the face, “I think I’m done for the day. I don’t feel so good.” 

Russetfrond nodded. “Alright, then we’ll break.”

“Aw, come on,” Floodpaw groaned, “We barely did anything!” 

“She’s not feeling well,” Sparrowpaw chided him, “It’s not like we can’t train without her.” Russetfrond suppressed a smile of pride. 

“Yeah, come on,” Barleypaw said, “Why don’t we take turns doing two on one fights if you really want a challenge?” 

“Mm, alright,” Floodpaw relented. Russetfrong gave a grunt to Mystique that meant ‘let’s go’ and she nodded, falling into step beside him. They left the sandy training ground and started back towards camp as the sound of fighting resumed behind them.

“Ugh,” Mystique moaned, “I feel like I’m gonna puke.” 

“Please don’t,” Russetfrond grumbled. Still, he glanced sideways at her in concern. “Did you eat anything strange lately? Any rabbits?”

“What?” Mystique scrunched her nose at him. “No, why?”

“Sometimes they catch a sickness that can kill the cats that eat them,” he said, “but if you didn’t have a rabbit it's fine, then.” 

“Wait, why do you eat them if they could kill you!?” cried Mystique.

“Because we need to eat?” he rolled his eyes. “You can usually tell if they’re sick before you catch them. It doesn’t happen often.” 

“If you say so…” said Mystique. She took several slow, deep breaths through her nose as they walked and Russetfrond realized she must really feel sick. 

“We’ll have one of the healers look at you when we get back to camp,” he said. “They’ll give you something for your stomach.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding strained. “You guys don’t have any pumpkin treats do you?” 

“No, we do not have pumpkin treats,” he growled, “It’s the middle of spring!” 

“Why should that matter?” asked Mystique. “The Folk have them all year round.” She dropped her gaze and mumbled, “they always make my tummy feel better…”

“Tummy? Really? You are such a child.” 

“No, I’m not,” she said defensively, then flirtatiously, “you would know.” He blushed and lashed his tail, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. 

“Shut up,” he hissed, fur prickling with embarrassment. 

She snickered impishly. “It’s fine, Russie, there’s nobody around!” That only made him more embarrassed. 

“You don’t know that for sure,” he snapped. “We’re almost to camp, just-!” He stopped and took a moment to flatten his hackles and lower his voice. “Just be quiet please?”

“Okay, okay,” she relented with a bit of a laugh. “You’re so touchy, Bee Face.” 

He grunted and said nothing else. 

They slipped down into the camp. Goldenstar and Scorchplume were sharing tongues by the Stoneperch, Fogkit and Slatekit were picking out prey for their meal, Pantherhaze was sunning on top of the warriors’ den. It was quiet and lovely. Russetfrond nodded to Goldenstar as he passed and she nodded in kind, then turned to listen as Scorch whispered in her ear. She smiled and twined her tail with Scorchplume’s and Russetfrond frowned. He still didn’t like that Goldenstar had fallen for such a scheming fox. Still, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. When Goldenstar got an idea in her head there was no talking her down.

He and Mystique entered the healers’ den. Aldertail and Oddstripe were talking near the herb stores and when Aldertail noticed them she squeaked and dropped into a frightened ball. Oddstripe sat up straight, his big ears grazing the roof of the den, and smiled awkwardly.

“Russetfrond! Mystique! Oh, what brings you in today?”

“Mystique’s stomach is sick,” Russetfrond said flatly. 

“Oh, alright then, why don't you settle into one of those nests and I’ll come help you in a second,” said Oddstripe. He turned back to Aldertail and whispered to her a bit. She nodded mutely and then quickly slank out of the den, hugging the wall farthest from Mystique. The kittypet tried to shoot her an apologetic grin but she wasn’t looking. Mystique sighed. 

“I wish she wasn’t so scared of me,” she said as the warrior’s tail tip disappeared. 

“She’s been through a lot,” Oddstripe said, lips pursed tight. “We’re working on it. Anyways!” He stepped up to her and leaned in to sniff her breath. “Tell me about your symptoms.” Russetfrond settled into a lean against the wall, watching impassively. 

“Uh… I dunno,” Mystique shrugged. “I’ve been queasy since breakfast. It got worse just a little while ago.” 

“Any gut pain?” Oddstripe asked, “Dizziness? Fever? Issues making dirt?” 

“No,” Mystique looked away uncomfortably, “none of that.” 

“Hmm…” Oddstripe frowned in thought. “It couldn’t be… would you mind letting me look at your belly?” 

Mystique glanced back at him, tried to hide a grimace, and then said, “Sure.” She settled onto her side and lifted her arm to give him better access. He sniffed around, used his paws to push some of her fur out of the way, and then laughed to himself.

“If I had a mouse for every time this has happened,” he grinned, sitting back. 

“Every time what has happened?” Russetfrond growled.

“I’ve discovered a sudden bout of nausea was morning sickness!” Oddstripe said brightly. “Congratulations, Mystique, you’re going to have kittens!” 

“What?” Mystique and Russetfrond said at the same time. 

“You’re pregnant!” Oddstripe reiterated pleasantly. “Nausea is a totally normal symptom of the early stages of pregnancy. I’d say you’re probably a week or two into it based on how you’re pinking up.”

“That’s impossible,” Russetfrond was on his feet again. “She’s a kittypet!” 

“Not all of the Exalted are altered,” Mystique twitched her ear in annoyance. 

“Why-!” Russetfrond nearly shouted but caught himself. Gritting his teeth, he said in a more discreet tone, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“‘Cause it’s not a big deal!” Mystique rolled her eyes. 

“Not a big deal?!” His jaw was starting to ache with how hard he was clenching his jaw. “Mystique, did you get your brain replaced with bees? Of course it’s a big deal! I didn’t think that-” He stopped himself again when he remembered that Oddstripe was still right there. The healer was staring at him with wide-blown eyes and a mouth pursed into a tiny, scandalized line. 

Russetfrond swallowed. “Uh, Oddstripe, look-”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Oddstripe quickly said, waving his paws in front of himself. “I’m not judging you or anything! I just feel like maybe I shouldn’t be here, I can give you guys some privacy-!”

“No!” Russetfrond blurted. “I mean… Thank you, but you can’t tell anyone.” 

Mystique groaned loudly. “Ugh! This again!” 

“It’s important!” he said to both of them. 

“Of course, Russetfrond,” said Oddstripe, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, “It’s not going to stay a secret for too much longer. I mean, Sagetooth is going to do the math and know it had to have been someone in the Clan, y’know?” 

Russetfrond shut his eyes tightly. This was a nightmare. “Right. Of course.” He started kneading the ground in an attempt to calm himself. “Just… I’ll handle it, just don’t say anything before I do, alright?” 

“Of course,” Oddstripe said again. “I’ll let you two talk.” He turned and stepped out of the den with a swish of his tail. Russetfrond sighed and started to pace. 

“This is bad,” he said. 

“No, it’s not,” Mystique said. “Look, I’ll just go back to my Folk and they’ll take care of it.” 

“What do you mean, take care of it?” he glared at her. 

“If you’re upset that there will be kits around,” she said as if it were common sense, “I’ll just go to my Folk and, once they’re weaned, the Folk will take them and place them with Folk of their own! It’s fine!” 

“What? No!” Russetfrond whirled on her. “Absolutely not!” 

“Why not?” protested Mystique, “I’ve done it before.” 

“I don’t care,” said Russetfrond. “You’re just going to abandon the kits?” 

“It’s not abandonment, the Folk find them homes!” Mystique was getting angry now, her claws sinking into the moss of the nest she was in. “If you don’t want kits then why do you care?!” 

“It’s not that I don’t want kits,” he said, trying very hard not to shout, “it’s that I don’t want anyone to know that we’ve been messing around!” 

“Why not?” she cried again. “Literally, who cares?” 

“I do!” he snapped, tail lashing. “You’re a prisoner of war! I’m not supposed to- to- fraternize with you!” 

Mystique laughed mean-spiritedly. “Oh, okay. That never stopped you from letting me pin you down and-”

“Stars Blood!” he hissed, blushing profusely. “Will you shut up for once in your life? This is serious! I’m the deputy! My- my reputation is on the line!”

“No one will care,” Mystique rolled her eyes. “Even Odd-face said she was fine with it-”

“He,” Russetfrond stressed.

“Ugh, whatever!” Mystique tore a line through the edge of the nest. “My point is, who’s gonna be mad? It’s fine! Stop stressing out!” 

“You don’t get it,” he shook his head. 

“Okay, then explain it to me, moron,” said Mystique, her voice catching in the back of her throat in irritation. 

Russetfrond snarled, tearing himself away from her steely gaze to start pacing again. “Fine,” he said. “In the Warrior Code it says that our Clan needs to come first. That means we aren’t supposed to form relationships that could compromise our loyalties, with members of the other Clans or rogues or kittypets.” He shot her a stern look. She rolled her eyes. “So when cats find out that we’ve been together, my loyalties will be called into question. I could lose my position as Deputy.” 

“Will you though?” Mystique frowned, “Cause Goldenstar is all over Scorch and that doesn’t seem to be an issue.” 

“Scorchplume became a warrior of RisingClan,” Russetfrond said, still pacing. “So if you joined the Clan then maybe it would be fine.” 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Mystique shook her head. “I still wanna go back to my Folk so they can handle all this stuff.” 

“First off,” Russetfrond growled, “We’ve already told you why you can’t go home. You would be a liability and that’s not even accounting for what Razor will do when he knows you betrayed him.” Mystique’s ears pressed back against her head briefly. “Secondly, you’re not giving our kits away to become kittypets.” 

“I don’t want them!” Mystique protested. “I’m not in any rush to be a mother.” 

“So you’re just going to let them snatch your kits away from you?”

“It’s not like that,” she laid her head on her paws, lips skewed to the side petulantly. “I’ve done it before and it was totally harmless.”

“You’ve done it before?” he asked, paling. Did cats in the city just not raise their own children? He was horrified.

“Yeah,” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “I wasn’t even a year old, fooled around a bit too much, got knocked up. The Folk fed me twice as much and gave me extra attention and helped me through the birth. Then different Folk came to visit and play with the kittens and eventually they all went home with a new family.” 

“What happened after that?” 

“I dunno, I never saw them again,” she shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Would you stop saying that?” he hissed, dropping his chest to the ground in a frustrated arch of his back. “It is a big deal! If you don’t want the kits, then that’s fine,” he spat the word, clearly not convinced that it was, “but they’re my kits too. I want to be there for them.”

Mystique groaned. “Ugh. You’re not gonna give me a choice are you… If I try and leave you’ll just drag me back to that stuffy old den.”

“Yes,” he said, glaring at her. She sighed and spread out over the ground like a kitten throwing a tantrum. It was moments like these where Russetfrond remembered how much he hated her. If only he had been able to remember the whole time, this wouldn’t have happened. 

“Then I guess we’ll do things your way,” she said eventually. 

“Good,” he said. “And we’re done messing around.” 

“Oh, come on!”

“I’m serious,” he said firmly. “I should have never been so weak in the first place. This is StarClan’s sign that I need to get my act together.” 

“No it’s not,” said Mystique, “it’s what happens when cats have sex together. Not everything is some magical sign.” 

Russetfrond lashed his tail one last time and said, “Just keep your mouth shut about our activities together. I’m going to handle this.” 

“Whatever,” she groaned to the ceiling. “I don’t caaaaare.”

He shook his head and stalked out of the den. Oddstripe was sitting a short distance away and looked up as he did, offering a hopeful smile.

“So?” he asked.

“I’m going to talk to Goldenstar about it,” said Russetfrond. “Just keep her and the kits healthy, alright?” He made sure to lower his voice just in case.

“I will,” said Oddstripe dutifully.

“Thank you,” Russetfrond sighed. At least he could take solace in that. His head was swimming. He was going to be a father. A single father, at that. He didn’t feel ready. He felt a thousand different dreams and plans shattering away like ice under his paws. He had dreamed of meeting someone strong but gentle, someone devoted just like he was, and courting them like a proper warrior until they were certain this was what they wanted. He had dreamed of raising kits with someone his mother could be proud of. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what she must think of him now. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” Oddstripe said, brushing his tail over Russetfrond’s paws reassuringly. “I’m sure everyone will understand.” 

“It’s over anyway,” Russetfrond said, feeling sick himself. “I never should have been so foolish but I’m certainly not going to let it happen again.” 

“I know what you mean,” Oddstripe said, a pained smile on his face. “But have faith. Kits are a gift, even if they come from less than perfect circumstances. I’m sure they will be a blessing to you when they arrive.” 

“I know…” he sighed again. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh, of course, Russetfrond,” smiled Oddstripe. “Don’t let me keep you.” 

Gratefully, Russetfrond stepped away to go find Goldenstar. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. It was time he started acting responsibly, though.

[inklore]

the flames of undoing

premise: aemond would ruin you. build you up for a fall that would strip you of your virtue, and give him the power he craved to make you his; if only the fall didn’t feel so magnificent.

pairing: aemond targaryen x (f)reader

word count: 1k+

warnings: fingering, unrealistic activities on top of a dragon, cheating (reader is already betrothed to someone else), dirty talk, light choking, ‘if i can’t have her no one can’ type beat, insinuated possessive!aemond, readers house is not specified.

note: hate this evil little shit but my thirst for him clearly reaches no bounds so please do not speak to me about it. i’d let him wed and bed me in the same breath he kills everyone i know and it’s sick!

The hour is too late for a lady to be out. An hour in which lady’s only find themselves in the mix of compromising situations, and no good implications from the gossipers who take comfort in the nightfall. Ruin the only thing that can come from slipping out of your room without a guard to trail beside you. A lady such as yourself should know better—you do know better, having been taught as much; “your virtue is all you have as a woman” your mother had preached.

The convincing it took for the prince to have you twining your fingers with his as you followed him through the desolate corridors, had been little.

Nor had the convincing to get you to climb atop his dragon; Vhager giving a look enough to have your fingers trembling against her ropes.

“Do you trust me?” Aemond’s pull of your attention stolen away from the beast with a knuckle under your chin, and the twitching of a smile at the corner of his mouth; your dress feeling just a little more tight, humid, the fear of your conviction and lady-like-ness gone with such a little movement—there would come a day you mourned yourself for falling for such touches from the prince.

But tonight it only felt right.

Your trust had been cemented in your curt nod and reassuring smile; in the way Aemond had held your back as you swung a leg over to mount the dragon, as in the way he had situated himself behind you wrapping an arm around your torso to speak softly in your ear, “hold on”.

The gravel of his tone sends a pricking down your spine. All second thoughts become lost to the wrath that could come from the two of you being caught.

The heat of the summer night a flush different to the warmth you feel from Aemonds front pressed to your back. Nor did it hold a light to the coolness of the air whipping against your cheeks as Vhagar rose above the clouds. The sight alone enough to make you feel a child-like joy; the flickering lights of fires down below masked in a fog.

Closing itself off from the two of you.

Isolating your forms from the rest of the landing. From prying eyes. Every rule and lessons on ways of being only significant down there, counted elsewhere but above the skyline where it was only you and the prince.

Vhagar’s figure is enough to block all else out—her power enough to extinguish them all to ash. Leaving only you and Aemond.

To be together without leers and directions on courtship, duties, marriage.

To rule how the prince saw fit. A rule that you’ll come to learn should have stayed as a thought above the clouds.

The feeling of serenity, of being in the hands of a prince that held more than just your girlish heart in his powerful and able palms, moving through the wind and sticking to your body—your insides—like a fast acting poison.

A poison that has all sense of your good virtue replaced with something tempting burning low in your belly.

You understood now. The power one felt when riding a dragon.

Of having a warrior in your corner; pressed to your back, willing to strip you of any and all if it meant your loyalty aligned with his. If it meant you were his.

You knew of loyalty and where yours lied, just as you knew whose hands your heart pounded in.

Betrothals wouldn’t change that.

You belonged to Aemond.

It’s why you don’t stir when he moves a palm across your belly. Or when he pushes the fabric of your dressings up your thigh, giving the cool air and his fingertips access to your core.

You spread further to give him room, your back pressing further into Aemond. The back of your head finding his shoulder when the first press from the pad of his finger is spreading your lips, and nestling itself on your clit.

The moans you let out only heard by Aemond. The breeze of the sky swallowing any noise that could travel meters below; illicit noises meant only for your prince.

“Have you let him touch you?” The warmth of his breath against your ear makes you shiver. The “mmm” Aemond groans against your skin when you shake your head, landing in that pit of fire below your belly—atop of your aching center as his fingers continue to give you pleasure.

A pleasure you’ve only ever explored with yourself in the comfort of your own chambers.

Aemond was ruining you, building you up for a fall that felt too magnificent to not let yourself be taken over by.

You wouldn’t wish it to be anyone else to aid you in your undoing.

The way Vhagar is moving through the sky has the metal of the seat jostling your hips in a thrust that assists in the throb you feel at your entrance.

“Do you get yourself this wet for anyone else?”

“No,” your throat feels too raw to speak, too scratched from your moans; from his name on your lips. “Only you my prince.”

You can feel the hardness between his legs as your backside rubs against him. Can feel his chest heave heavier and deeper, see his knuckles straining on the handle of his dragon. His undoing having come and gone long ago, but continues to edge him to that sinful desire to fall from that build up of pleasure.

The growls mumbled into your neck when his teeth scrape against your skin—his words of if you were grounded he would bed you right, build you up until your wetness allowed him to push inside the tightness of your cunt with ease—make your eyes roll back.

“Ñuhon.”

Valyrian. Mine.

“When you finish on my fingers it cannot be taken back. You will belong to me.” His free hand leaves the safety of its hold to grip below your jaw—the bite of the pressure making you cry out. “I’ll burn the entirety of your house to have you. Nothing will stop me.”

[exocynraku]

hashtag oc posting!!!!!! finally got back into the groove of drawing snakingclan cats!!! here is alla their lore: + feel free 2 send me questions about them!

sleepy: sleepyheather is a cheery, calm and wise snakingclan warrior. raised by a single mother queen, sleepyheather was taught to always take it slow, listening and giving the best advice & thoughts they can. she grew up on the sidelines, not really caring to stand out or be special. though, as a younger warrior, he always admired tumblingsun's confidence and unwavering logic. sleepyheather eventually started to ask the tom to hang out, which made tumblingsun realize she had a crush on him. the two ended up hitting it off successfully, becoming a wonderful couple, though their differing amounts of confidence often butt heads, with tumblingstar wanting to have fun, while sleepyheather wants to relax. still, they love each other like no other.

when martyrsomen, her and tumblingstar's first child, was born, sleepyheather was happy, though worried. worried mostly about the kit potentially straying down a path of darkness. though, with tumblingstars obvious joy, he was able to set that to the side. even with martyrsomen's big ego and snappy personality, sleepyheather sees no evil in it. the other kittens that were born in sleepyheather's first litter and their deaths upset sleepyheather deeply, though she rarely mentions it.

when savantpaw suddenly appeared, sleepyheather was overjoyed. the deaths of martyrsomen's siblings was still affecting her before savantpaw was born, though with a new child to take care of, sleepyheather managed to mostly put his sadness aside to raise savantpaw. it didn't take long for her to realize savantpaw had gotten a bad idea about himself in his head, and so sleepyheather did everything she could to help encourage and take care of her. she was the one who suggested savantpaw have physical therapy, which the apprentice is ever so grateful for. sleepyheather wants savantpaw to tread back to the right path, though the fear of potentially harming him more haunts her.  tumbling: tumblingstar, originally named tumblingsun, is snakingclan's leader. as a younger warrior, he was confident and logical, making good warrior material. they were very popular, overall living a good life, with lots of friends similar in nature to him. it wasn't until sleepyheather, a cat who he rarely ever talked to, came to him and asked to start hanging out, that he realize 1: she had a crush on him and 2: there was more to life that being a good warrior. being with sleepyheather taught him that there's all sorts of cats out there, and they should look to learn from and befriend everyone - not just cats he's similar to. eventually, the two became mates, loving and cherishing each other. they've had their arguments, and their personalities occasionally butt heads with each other, but overall they're wonderful lovers.

when his first child, martyrsomen, was born, tumblingstar was overjoyed. he knew he had the fabled vivid black markings that snakinclan's founders supposedly had, but seeing his child be born fully covered was almost like a message from starclan. still, it wasn't all happy, as the death of the four other kits in tumblingstar and sleepyheather's first litter hit both of them hard. the two still managed to pull through, and tried to raise martyrsomen to the best of their ability, whether they succeeded or not.

savantpaw was a different case. neither sleepyheather or tumblingstar were expecting another child to be born, though they still accepted savantpaw. it didn't take long for the two to realize he had gotten the idea that he was less than her older sibling, and tumblingstar moreso has done everything in his ability to make the cat feel at home. this went to a point of tumblingstar apprenticing savantpaw himself, and their training has been somewhat successful.  martyr: martyrsomen is a stoic, silent, and ethereal snakingclan warrior. born in a litter of five deformed, albino kittens, martyrsomen was the only one to survive- and the only one to not be fully albino, having vivid black markings stretching all across its body. black markings like these, and similar ones seen on settingsands and martyrsomen's dad tumblingstar are a symbol of respect. it's said the original founders of snakingclan each had these markings, and being born with some nowadays is seen as a blessing. though, that's usually for cats born with little markings, just around their face or other body parts-- a cat born with the full founder's markings hasn't been seen in hundreds of years. because of this, martyrsomen was quickly deemed to be of some importance, gaining intense and unwavering respect from its clanmates. it was expected it'd grow to be a confident, leader-material like cat, but it seemed martyrsomen has strayed into a different path. it's become colder and distant, usually not speaking at all. when it has to, it's snappy, and quick to assume things. still, it seems like martyrsomen has quite the ego, usually referring to itself as chosen.

regarding its family, martyrsomen does highly respect both sleepyheather and tumblingstar. when it comes to savantpaw, though, it acts like its little brother almost doesn't exist! its exact opinion on savantpaw isn't known, as it doesn't bother to speak about her, but it overall seems there is some level of dislike.  savant: savantpaw is a quiet, shy, and dismissive snakingclan apprentice. born to an unwanted and unexpected litter (unexpected in a sense of they were caused by retained sperm (google it) from tumble & sleepys first litter) to tumblingstar and sleepyheather. it didn't take long for the eyes from their clanmates and general tone they were spoken to in for him to discover this truth. still, tumblingstar and sleepyheather took care of her and loved her just as they had loved martyrsomen. savantpaw had some difficulty in their younger years not just from their clanmmates, but also because of the fact his body is, generally, deformed. shorted than usual legs, a wonky back-- they went through a lot of physical training and therapy. nowadays, they're trained under his father, tumblingstar. savantpaw tries to do good and do their best, but they know that they are still just a shadow to martyrsomen. 

[powerpuffobsession]

I don't like Vaggie getting retconned into an angel

(This one is more of a personal opinion/complaint/vent. I'm just trying to analyze why exactly I dislike this plot change. Viewer discretion is adviced)

When the leaks first said that would happen, I chose to believe it was fake until the very last second. I remember even denying it in my mind when I started watching season 1, hoping that they haven't implemented such a change....

Because the sinner Vaggie premise had so many interesting possibilities - of making her a person, someone interesting on her own, when separated from Charlie

Her sex worker past (meaning the incoming bonding with Angel Dust over shared trauma), her life in El Salvador, her death age that was supposed to be very young (early 20s dead in 2014) contrasting the other hotel residents exept for Niffty (who's from 50s), an interesting dynamic with Charlie where a human sinner gets together with an ancient demon princess - we were promised all of that.

The fandom built plenty of fancontent on the "sinner Vaggie" basis and got used to it. Not many expected an angel Vaggie, and I remember a lot of people saying that would be too obvious and boring and that that wouldn't happen

And in reality, it turned out to be even worse, in my opinion. Now Vaggie is literally one of the faceless Barbie dolls mass produced by Adam. She's so unimportant in-universe, she got broken and thrown away when she was no longer in use. Very symbolic, don't you think?

Her boss, Adam, is objectively more interesting than she is now! By becoming his inferior, Vaggie lost her miniscule interesting features in favour of being outshined by a male character! The one who mistreated her too. So typical... never change since the pilot era

To add salt to the injury, we learned that Vaggie IS in fact, short for Vagina, and that this "charming" name was given her by Adam, the sexist murderous pig! And she kept that name, as if actually liking it! Great!

(Vaggie being short for Vagatha was still unpleasant because Vivzie's dumb humour was obvious through and through, but a lot less offensive than what we actually got)

(And wow thanks a lot for that Vagatha joke with Sir Pentious. Way to mock the viewers by accentuating what was lost)

Also, Vaggie has basically no backstory now - "she was a murderer, then BAM she's not a murderer anymore, and out of nowhere she became a love interest for the main character". And her sparing a child was honestly such a cheap attempt at pulling at the viewer's heartstrings... why did she spend so many years murdering everyone in her way (making her the most effective exorcist, according to Adam himself!) but suddenly decided not to kill a child sinner? Were there no other child sinners before that one? Besides, it's hell, girl! That child could have drove his peer to suicide or killed animals for all we know!

And we are seriously supposed to care about a character who was a boring basic warrior intended for mass murdering just a while ago? Sure, that cliche can actually work with the right portrayal, but not like this! (Personally, I really felt my interest to Vaggie drop when the angel plot twist was revealed, it was like a cold shower)

That leaves Vaggie no choices of showing any personality whatsoever other than clinging to Charlie and having every moment of her life revolve around being with the princess, loving her and helping her. No thoughts, hobbies, world views and goals of her own. Come on, that's so bland!

Vaggie basically just changed one owner to another - from Adam to Charlie, to completely dissolve in their needs and wants instead of devoting some time to her own (which she can't have because she was born as a slave - that is if exorcists are created by Adam)

I feel like I shouldn't complain. I want to believe that if angel Vaggie was given time and space to develop, I'd like her, but really no... the very idea of making her part of Heaven was still-born to begin with, given the nature of hazbin hotel. This cartoon shot itself in the foot with an awful pacing. In the light of that, making Vaggie a significant part of a plotline that had no time to shine was a choice to avoid

And angel Vaggie should have stayed an urban legend in the fandom instead of making it into the show. I feel sad that for me Vaggie was ruined as Hazbin Hotel's aspect I could have enjoyed

I hope she at least gets more interesting interactions with Charlie and other characters in season 2. The ones in season 1 were not so bad, even if they're not the ones I wanted. And I'm still going to love Vaggie out of habit even if she's not the same anymore. Maybe I'll come around and start loving her as an angel eventually 🤞

P.S. why did they change the delicate white colour of her dress and the light pink colour of her bow to bright red shirt and bow? If she's a angel, wouldn't it have made more sense for her to be wearing pallette that has a bit of white in it to make her stand out? Even in that regard a questionable decision was made, dear god...

[nteyamsully]

dad!neteyam were teenage reader gets into a fight and shes like really fucking angry and only neteyam can calm her down and its just loads off comfort and cutesy shit to heal my daddy issues

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you for the request anon ! instead of teenage reader, i decided to make the reader as the mom but it still focuses on neteyam and his daughter. i just think it'd be cute too to have it from the mom perspective. i hope you enjoyed this <3 a part 2 is coming !

summary they say a fathers' first daughter is a female version of him. neteyam begs to differ because his princess has way too much fire in her than he did.

pairing dad! neteyam x oc! daughter, neteyam x reader

word count 1.7k

warnings edited, neteyam just being a dad girl, suggestive content, just youngest children doing what they want, mentions of bullying, violence such as punching, blood

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), pa'li (direhorse)

PART 1 ; PART 2 (wip)

You always had believed that having four kids that weren't too old apart would be a wonderful family balance. The second child would have someone to look up to but also have the responsibility of looking after their younger siblings, the third child would not have to rely only on one older sibling but rather two, and the youngest would be able to learn and receive different insights on things from their older siblings. 

Neteyam said that your ideas were always beautiful and well thought. He loved the idea of having a big family with you. And the two of you did. 

Nutxe, your oldest child. While he has his mother's attributes, he behaves precisely like his father. His personality always makes you think of Neteyam. Ki'täm, your second child, was a blessing from Eywa a year later. Identical to his father in every way. Your mate has always made jokes about how three Neteyams would protect you because of how each of his sons were like him. 

But you didn't stop there; two years later, you had another boy. Ateyo, your son who resembles you. Unlike his older brothers, he would rather spend his time in the deepest part of the forest. Violence had never been his thing, so becoming a warrior didn't come naturally to him. 

A year later, Lili was born. Neteyam loves his sons with his whole heart, but when he his daughter came out of your womb, a new sense of protectiveness awakened in him. It was already clear to you that your babygirl would be a daddy’s girl.  

She was constantly spoiled by Neteyam. He was always giving in to her doe eyes, which she used against him since she knew her father would never say no to her. Even as she was growing, she continued using the same tactic. 

Your now-teenage children were leaving the hut as you watched them and spoke enthusiastically about being approved to stay a litte late after eclipse. You sighed disapprovingly and looked at your partner. 

Incongruously, Neteyam smiled. He moved up to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he encircled your waist with his arms. “They have grown,” he solemnly said. 

“No, Mr. Sully,” you laughed. “You do not get to escape this by throwing the trump card. You have to learn how to say no to Lili.” 

“I cant believe she is thirteen now,” he sighs.

“Neteyam!” you exclaimed, slapping his hand that rested on your hip. 

Your mate chuckles, digging his face on your neck. “I hear you, yawntutsyìp. But know it is difficult when our daughter is exactly like you. Ateyo doesn’t use it against me, but Lili does.” 

“And she knows it. It almost feels like if our youngest child attempts murder, you would let her get away with it because she is your favourite.” 

Neteyam pouted as he took a step back, holding your shoulders gently as he turns you around. “Lili would never attempt murder.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Enough.” Neteyam pulls you closer to him by tugging the band of your loincloth. “The children wont be here soon. Let’s do something fun.” 

Your hands rested on his chest. Before a word could leave out of your mouth, he pressed his lips against yours. You didn’t realise how much you’ve missed having moments like this with Neteyam. It has been far too long.

“Cant believe that you managed to get Dad to say yes,” smiled Ki'täm.  

Because their father was aware of the risks posed in Pandora, it was occasionally challenging to win his permission. As lovely as the forest is, it is also dangerous. 

Nutxe scoffed, “That’s because this little manipulative baby sister of ours did her magic.” He playfully glared at her before pinching her cheeks. 

Lili hissed and slapped his hand away. “Be thankful that I had dad say yes because I’m about to make your life more exciting than it was when you were my age,” she says proudly. 

While rolling his eyes, Ateyo kept silent. His sister having anything she wants was never something he liked. At least when she hasn't done anything to deserve it. Never did their father treat them unfairly, though.

Neteyam promised that he would treat all of his children equally. The intense pressure from his father that he experienced as a teenager was something he didn't want with his children. While Neteyam adores his father, he can't help but admit that he was cruel at times.

Ki'täm noticed his younger brothers’ silence, observing how a frown formed on his face. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. “What is wrong? I thought you would love this.” 

Ateyo clicked his tongue. “Mom didn’t look like she was happy about it. And you,” he looked at Lili, “stop acting so spoiled.” 

Lili rolled her eyes. “This again. Jealous that I get to do whatever I want?” 

“Why would I be jealous for being a spoiled brat?” he argued. 

“What the hell is your problem?” she exclaimed. “You should thank me that you get to explore the forest around more.” 

Ateyo clenched his jaw, holding himself back from raising his voice. He could feel his anger rising by the second and he knew the choice to keep his mouth shut is better. Lili never backs down from anything she sees as a challenge, and by the looks of her face, she sees her argument with her brother as one too. 

He always had to be the bigger person between them.

Nutxe pushes his arm in between them quickly. “Stop. You are attracting other people,” he whispered harshly before looking around, making sure that his grandfather isn’t on sight to witness this.  

Jake had witnessed far too many of their disputes and had reprimanded them much too frequently when they're involved in violent tussles with other kids. He is Olo’eyktan, it is his duty to make sure there is peace and harmony within the clan. It's not simple at all, especially with his grandchildren causing problems all around. 

Just as Nutxe started to feel relieved that both of his siblings listened to him, it disappeared immediately when he heard a voice laced with venom speak up. 

“Don’t bother, Nutxe. Your baby sister loves all the attention.” 

Risei. She was the bully of the clan. When Lili was a little girl, she witnessed her wrongfully verbally abusing a young na'vi. They were ridiculed only for their personality trait and shyness. Lili reacted angrily to the Risei's audacity by confronting her, however it didn't end happily ever after. And that was how their rivalry began. 

“Do not start, Risei,” Lili snarled, her fists clenched. Ki'täm held her forearm and urged her to walk away, but she didn't budge.

Risei mockingly laughed, “Is that supposed to be a threat? You look like a baby pa’li who reacts when they don’t get what they want!” She peered over her little group, seeing them chuckle at her words which made her ego boost. 

Ki'täm begged, “Lili.” He didn’t want to get in trouble yet, not when he wanted to explore the forest after eclipse. 

“Ah, I forget,” Risei snapped her fingers in fake realization, “You get what you want. You must not know how it feels like, is it why you’re acting like this? Did daddy not give you what you want?” 

And something snapped in the youngest sibling. Lili pushed Ki'täm's hold off of her and scowled at Risei. The girl was too busy laughing with her companions to notice her menacing aura. Risei was caught off guard when she felt something hard make contact with her nose, which caused her to lose her footing and collapse to the ground. 

“I am so sick of you,” Lili seethed. She didn’t give her time to process and hovered above Risei, continuously slamming her fist on to her. 

Risei’s friends hissed and were about to grab Lili, but Ki'täm quickly wrapped his arms on one of them to stop them from getting near. “Nutxe, Ateyo, grab the other two!” he yelled. 

Ateyo groaned. Following what his older brother instructed was not the best course of action, but at this point it seemed to be the only option. If a girl attacked his sister, he would gladly be violent for her, but he knows his father and grandfather would skin him alive. As a result, he followed Ki'täm's suggestion. 

Nutxe rolled his eyes at their stupidity. He quickly stepped in front of one of Risei’s friends, preventing them from interfering. “Do not,” he ordered, which thankfully they listened. He turned back to his sister, seeing that she had completely executed her anger. 

“Lili!” yelled Nutxe. He attempted to pull his sister off her by the shoulders, however, his efforts were futile because she withheld great strength. She’s not recognised as potentially the next best warrior of their clan for no reason. 

But the calls of her name were unheard to her. All she could see is red. Truthfully, she wasn’t angry with Ateyo. Her disagreements with him were monotonous and repetitious, which irritated her. Risei had always bothered her and each time, she bottles up her anger to refrain herself from going feral. Bottling all that anger was clearly a bad idea because it still exploded violently. 

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!” A loud and authorative voice boomed. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop Lili. “Hey! That’s enough!” A pair of strong arms engulfed around her, carrying her off the ground. She growled and kicked her feet in the air. 

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. That’s enough!”  

Her eyes were still filled with rage, but she continued to breathe heavily. Jake studied Risei's features. A cut on her lip and brow, a broken and bleeding nose, and an eye that is beginning to bruise. He shook his head slowly. 

“I am fine,” Lili grumbled in his arms. 

Jake dropped her on the ground lightly, staring at his granddaughter intently. “Yeah, I could see that.”  

Lo'ak arrived on the scene, wondering as to why everyone was gathered in a circle. His father, whose hands were on his hips and who had his niece in his line of sight, caught his attention first. Then he noticed a female who was weeping with a totally messed up face. 

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, eyes wide. 

Jake rubbed his temple. “Lo’ak, call your brother and his mate to meet in the family hut,” he looked at the three boys who stood in their positions nervously, “the rest of you follow me.” 

Lili remained glued to the spot while keeping an eye on Risei. She was completely guilt-free. She had it coming to her. She deserved it after repeatedly harassing and tormenting defenceless people. 

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. Lets go!”  

The voice of the Olo’eyktan made her move. She knew she’s fucked when her parents will find out and her doe eyes wont work this time.

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[sunandsstars]

BEAUTIFUL

Recom!Miles Quaritch x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: Quaritch is amazed by the beauty of new life, and Spider is just happy his manifestations came true. Warnings: Briefly mentions being a toxic father/kidnapping/death, Swearing, Childbirth Word count: 2.2k

Quaritch couldn’t remember a time he was truly happy. Not with coming to Pandora, not with his son, not with his previous partner. And definitely not with his reincarnation. But right now, in this moment, he felt unexplainable love. His tail wagged and his ears couldn’t stop moving, his eyes wide and his expression almost bashful.

‘I’m a soldier for Pete’s sake when did I become so soft’ he should be ashamed of himself, his human would have punched it into his skull, but he couldn’t find himself to be. Not when he was standing in the most beautiful place known to man with the most beautiful woman in front of him.

“Ma Miles.. what are you thinking?” her accent slipped through and he couldn’t help but find how cute it was, but her eyes portrayed worry. Worry for what he was going to say back.

“Darlin. I’m the happiest man in the universe” he cupped her face and gave her a smooch, one of his hands leaving her cheek and pressing against her still flat tummy “I’m gonna take care of both of you, I swear”

Her fave lit up and her smile became wider, her four fingered hand came to rest against his on her stomach and her other against his on her cheek “I’m so happy, Eywa has blessed us” ___ purred, it was a cute rumble in her chest that made Quaritch swoon, he could only do the same in return.

“Have you told Spider” He questioned, his son, their son, was a man. The solder turned Na’vi warrior felt guilt for him, he wasn’t the best father, he never raised his only child and when he died he missed his whole life. He only just reunited with him two years ago, kidnapping him and forcing him on their journey to kill Jake Sully. But during that time he felt a bond like no other, this was his flesh (or..was his flesh) and blood, he wasn’t gonna let him go again.

“Kehe, I have not. I promise I will tonight” ___ suddenly interlocked their hands and pulled her mate back towards home. The sky people are no longer on Pandora, for now the Na’vi are at peace, the recoms have decided to integrate into the culture, it was only right since they have their body and they couldn’t go back to Earth in their state. It was strange, finding out about their back up bodies, all they had to do was transfer the DNA hard drive (Quaritch forgot technical names, who cares about that shit anyway?) to their new bodies. The recoms that did die like Zhang or Zdinarsk held no recollection of their death again, only of the events leading up, just like the first time.

Jake Sully was merciful, he was in the same situation as the now younger than him Quaritch (Jake is salty about it, he hates that he’s now the old man) and understands where he is coming from. Miles was willing to learn, so Jake was willing to teach. Neytiri and most of the clan, including the humans, where very against it. But with some encouraging words from Mo’at (who’s always sticking up for her son) the others relented and decided to see what Eywa wills these demons to do.

Now Quaritch and the old Deja Blu squad have gone full Na’vi. Some like Lyle got mates, some like Mansk became hunters and warriors. He was proud of his squad and felt alive here, unlike his life on Earth.

___ chirped out into the night, eclipse already long past and the forest flowing with life. As they walked up to their new hometree his mate chirped again, a complex sound that he cannot seem to master. A thud sounded behind them and Quaritch instantly held her back as he turned to see what it was that she attracted, only to come face to face with his human boy.

“Kaltxi ma sa’nok, ma sempul” he greeted them and did a quick ‘i see you’ motion from his forehead. They returned the gesture and ___ grinned, pulling the 18 year old into her and kissing his forehead.

“Son, we uh. Got some news to share” Miles stared at the smaller Miles, yellow eyes piercing through the dark and staring him down. If outsiders saw this they would have thought he would kill the boy, who was twice as small as him. But the people that knew him well could see the slight fear in his eyes, scared about his reaction, scared about the future, scared about making past mistakes.

Spider blinked up at his father and tilted his head “hey old man there’s no need to get so scared. I’m not a threat to you ya know” he cheekily grinned and his father could only roll his eyes, lifting his hand to his now braided head and rubbing it. Spider laughing and pulled himself away.

“Spider” his adoptive mother called out, equally as nervous. Now this caught his attention, why where they BOTH scared?? What’s going on?? “My son, I am with child, prrnen. I hope you will be happy for us”

Miles jr gasped, hand over his mouth and a smile creeping up on his face. He was to be an older brother. A TRUE older brother. He was like a sibling to the Sully kids yes, but this was different. This was his real family. “Mama, I am so happy for you” he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her hip, her arms coming around him. “I hope it’s a girl” he whispered, thinking about the ways he would protect his younger sibling.

“For the baby’s sake, I hope it is not” his mother giggled, Quaritch openly agreed but secretly he wanted the same. He wanted a little girl that looked like her mama, a little girl he could protect and love as his own. He was a girl dad, secretly.

“Cmon, let’s get to bed” Quaritch slowly dragged his family inside hometree and up the spiral steps, Spider leaping in front and going to his own hammock, jumping in and closing it. His parents where just next to him, sleeping in one that was much bigger, open, and meant for a family.

___ felt disappointment when she realised that Spider would be sleeping on his own now, since he is grown and an adult, he could not stay with his parents. But occasionally during the night he would creep down and sleep between them, head in his fathers elbow crease and arm wrapped around his mothers growing tummy. He’s done this throughout her pregnancy.

Quaritch was out with his squad and some other hunters, fetching food for the clans meal tonight, Spider decided to join him with the Sully kids, riding with Lo’ak on his ikran.

___ and some other woman decided to do some gathering, fetching fruits and water from the rivers. She was with Neytiri, a woman who she viewed as an older sister. Since Sylwanin died, the Tsahìk in training saw a new opportunity for a sister in ___, who too has lost her eldest sister. She found solace in her, and vowed to protect the much younger girl.

When ___ found out that Neytiri had to leave for the Metkayina she was distraught, a woman she grew up with for her whole life is being taken from her. Then when she came back to the Omaticaya, with one child less, she knew she had to be there for her sister. But she also mourned for Neytiri’s son, her nephew.

In mourning she found her own solace in the monster that started it all, but she believed in change. If Toruk Makto became one of the people, couldn’t he? Now she is with his child, who is just about ready to come out.

“You should rest, little sister” Neytiri walked up to her with a basket full of large colourful fruit, deciding to stay behind and not hunt today, she had a feeling about ___’s labours.

“‘tiri I am fine, see? This basket is not heavy” she picked up a basket full of smaller berry’s, showing off her strength, even if it was unmatched with a hunter. ___ walked to the river to wash them, she needed to get the dirt off of them, as she was about to bend down she was stopped by a gentle hand.

“Let me” Neytiri gently hissed as the younger woman went to object, slowly giving up and giving her the basket “you may be able to carry this, but your belly would make it hard to bend and stand back up”. The elder then squatted and washed them for her, getting any small bugs and little bits of dirt.

___ sighed and smiled, she missed her. Now they have been reunited these two years they have never been caught apart. “Well, is there anything I can-“ she stopped to breath, taking a breath in and holding it. She felt a little bit of a push and water trickle out slowly from her regions below. “Neytiri”

At the use of her pause, and full name, Neytiri turned around fast and saw the situation her sister was in. “___” dropping the basket and running towards her she placed a hand onto her back and another on her stomach, feeling the baby “It will take a while for you to start pushing, but we must get you back to kelutral” she gently pushed her towards home and shouted out to the other gatherers that were around, warning them of an upcoming birth. They all whooped and cheered in excitement, some rushing back with their baskets to prepare.

“When will the hunting party be back, I need my mate” the slightly smaller woman breathed deeply, remembering what she was told by her mother on what to expect. She limped her way to hometree and glanced at Neytiri who remained silent, a distant look on her face and tears in her eyes “‘tiri?”

The warrior snapped out of her trance and turned to face ___, the tears now slowly dripping down her face “I am so happy for you, my sister. I have dreamt of this day for a long time. But if that moron dares do something to hurt you i will gut him limb from limb” she was serious and ___ knew so, she only nodded in return with a grin, wiping Neytiri’s cheeks.

A small contraction hit and she winced as she was moved to a squat on the floor, Mo’at came with some healers and painted onto her skin, a new mother must have protective runes onto her body, and it was also a symbol, one to say she was a warrior. They chanted prayers to their great mother, Neytiri included. That’s when they heard the war party, someone must have alerted her husband to the birth.

Quaritch jumped off of his ikran from the top of the tree and sprinted down to one of the levels, coming round the corner and seeing his mate prepared to start pushing. He made his way over and squatted behind her, ears twitching and hearing her grunting. “Hey darlin, let’s get this show on the road eh?” a hand reached back and playfully slapped his arm.

“You know i do not understand your saying ma Miles” his mate panted, starting her pushing. She grunted and squirmed in discomfort, but there was no pain, the herbs and ailments helped with that. The Na’vi had some pretty strong stuff.

Soon enough her son joined them, jumping over tails and standing beside his parents. Sitting next to his father and looking at his mother is worry. Quaritch sometimes had trouble with the culture, and this moment was one of them. Birthing was a communal thing with the Na’vi, there was no shame with people being gathered around a pregnant woman, they had nothing to hide after all. It was a natural process. It did baffle him since with humans it definitely was not like this, privacy was important, but the process of human birth could be seen as depressing in some eyes. He liked it this way, it showed community and safety, he was glad to be accepted as Omaticaya.

His wife’s pushing came to a close and a cry was heard, Neytiri immediately put the babe in her mothers arms and guided the bond. A Na’vi’s first bond is with their mother, to form a strong emotional connection, then Eywa is the second so the baby could be connected to Pandora, they would prepare the ceremony soon.

“I told you it would be a girl!” Spider cheered and jumped around, whooping and yipping with the other clan members and his friends.

Tears fell down ___ face and a grin graced her features, she was sweaty and tired, panting from exhaustion but Quaritch could not find her more beautiful.