18+ Only Blog! Do not follow me if you are a minor, you are more than welcome back when you are 18 and older.
I will probably write/reblog stuff for several fandoms, but I will try to tag everything accordingly
At the moment I am only comfortable with female and gender neutral readers
I WILL write: fluff, steamy moments, small angst, platonic or romantic relationships
I will NOT write: hard angst, incest, anything nonconsensual, or anything to do with self-harm.
This blog is LGBTQ+ friendly
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Summary: Who could have thought that the fiercest Yautja would be such a girl's dad.
When Kwei arrives home the first thing he hears is not your voice.
It is the unmistakable patter of tiny feet racing across the wooden floor.
He has barely pushed the front door open before something very small throws itself against his leg with all the force a three-year-old can manage.
“Father!”
His hand, still holding the leather strap of his hunting pack, immediately lets go. The pack lands on the floor with a heavy thud, forgotten before it even touches the ground.
Kwei looks down. His little daughter is wrapped around his leg, her tiny arms barely meeting around it, her eyes shining as though she had not seen him in months instead of two days.
“There you are,” he says quietly, she tips her head back until she can look at him.
“You came back.”
“I did.”
“Like you promised.”
“I keep my promises.”
Satisfied, she nods once, then she lifts both arms as high as they go.
“Up.”
There is no hesitation.
Kwei bends immediately, slipping one large hand under her before lifting her against his chest. She settles there as if she has always belonged in that exact spot. Because, in many ways, she has.
From the doorway, you watch the entire exchange with a smile tugging at your lips.
“You didn’t even take your armour off.”
Kwei glances at you.
“It can wait, she is more important.”
His daughter has already tucked her face under his mandible, one tiny hand absentmindedly playing with one of his dreadlocks. She sighs happily.
“You smell like outside.”
“I do.”
“And snow.”
“There is snow.”
“And trees.”
“There are trees.”
She thinks very hard before adding, “…and Father.”
A chuckle rumbles deep in Kwei’s chest.
“Yes.”
You shake your head, unable to hide your amusement.
“I carried her for months.”
He looks at you with complete seriousness.
“You did.”
“I gave birth to her.”
“You did.”
“I feed her every day.”
“You do.”
You fold your arms.
“And yet she hears the door open and suddenly I no longer exist.”
Kwei looks down at the little girl clinging happily to him.
“I fail to see the problem.”
“Oh, of course.”
Your eldest is outside training with Dek, your youngest has fallen asleep after wearing himself out chasing insects around the garden, and your daughter has decided that her father is not allowed to move more than a few steps away from her.
Kwei sits outside the house repairing the shaft of one of his spears, a task that usually demands complete concentration.
Today, he has considerably less. Tiny footsteps approach again.
He does not need to look up. He already knows who it is.
She stops beside him, carrying a small wooden cup in both hands, her tongue poking out slightly with the effort of keeping it level.
She holds it up proudly.
“For Father.”
Kwei sets the spear aside immediately.
“What is this?”
“Tea.”
You glance through the open doorway just in time to see him accept the cup with all the solemnity of receiving a ceremonial offering.
Inside is little more than cold water with a handful of leaves floating lazily on the surface.
Your daughter watches him happily. Kwei lifts the cup and takes a long drink, then lowers it again. He nods once, approving.
“Excellent.”
Her entire face lights up.
“I made it!”
“I can tell.”
“You like it?”
“I do.”
She smiled so brightly that you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, when she runs off again to gather more “ingredients,” you step outside.
“So?”
Kwei hands you the cup. You look inside.
“…Kwei.”
“Hm?”
“That’s a leaf.”
“I noticed.”
“And…” You poke gently at something floating near the bottom. “…I think that’s moss.”
“It is.”
“You drank it.”
He looks genuinely confused.
“She made it.”
“As pretend tea.”
“I know.”
“…You weren’t actually supposed to drink it.”
“She seemed pleased.”
You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.
“You are impossible.”
“No.” He watches your daughter proudly collecting more weeds from the edge of the garden. “I am her customer.”
A few days later, Dek came over for a visit.
He found Kwei sitting on the floor of the house instead of sharpening weapons or preparing for a hunt.
This alone surprises him.
What surprises him more is what Kwei is doing.
Or rather… what he is allowing.
Your daughter sits behind him with the fiercest expression imaginable, surrounded by colourful beads, bits of leather cord and tiny flowers she insisted on picking that morning.
“Stay still,” she says very seriously.
“I am.”
“No moving.”
“I have not moved.”
Dek blinks, Kwei, one of the most feared hunters in the clan, sits perfectly upright while a toddler struggles to braid one of his dreadlocks.
It is… Not going well.
The braid is uneven. The beads are completely mismatched.
One flower somehow ends up tied near the end of another dreadlock for no apparent reason.
Still…
Kwei does not move.
Nearly an hour passes before she finally climbs around to look at her work.
She places both tiny hands on her hips. Satisfied.
“There.”
Kwei reaches up carefully, feeling the collection of flowers and beads now decorating his hair.
“You have finished?”
She nods enthusiastically.
“You handsome.”
He inclines his head.
“Thank you.”
Dek cannot hold it in any longer.
He laughs. Loud enough that both of you look over.
“Kwei.”
“Hm?”
“You once told me taking a mate would make you soft.”
“I did.”
“You claimed children would distract you.”
“I did.”
Dek gestures toward him.
“You have flowers in your hair.”
Kwei reaches up again, gently touching one of the tiny flowers your daughter had carefully tied into place.
He smiles, just enough for the people who know him best to notice.
“Yes.”
Dek waits.
Surely there is more.
There is not.
“…You are not taking them out?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Kwei glances toward his daughter, who is now trying very hard to braid one of your youngest son’s curls while he giggles uncontrollably.
“She was proud of her work.”
Dek shakes his head in disbelief.
“You really are completely wrapped around her little finger.”
Kwei does not even attempt to deny it.
“If she asks for my time…” His gaze remains fixed on his daughter. “…she shall have it.”
“If she asks you to wear flowers?”
“I will.”
“If she asks you to attend tea?”
“I will.”
“If she asks you to sit still for another hour?”
“I will.”
Dek sighs dramatically before looking at you.
“There is no saving him.”
“I know.” you smile at Dek.
The sound draws your daughter’s attention. She runs across the room, stopping in front of Kwei before lifting both arms again.
“Up.”
Without a single complaint, Kwei leans down and lifts her into his arms.
She immediately curls against his chest with a happy sigh, one little hand resting against his shoulder.
You walk over and brush one of the crooked flowers back into place among his dreadlocks.
“It suits you.”
“So I have been told.”
You smile.
“It does.”
Your daughter reaches out toward you then, patting the space between the two of them.
“Mother.”
You lean closer, she wraps one arm around your neck while remaining securely tucked against Kwei, insisting on holding both of you at once.
For a moment, the three of you simply stay like that. Your forehead resting lightly against Kwei’s. Your daughter happily sandwiched between you.
Warm.
Safe.
Loved.
Across the room, Dek watches the quiet scene unfold before quietly shaking his head with a smile.
The strongest warrior in the clan stood perfectly happy wearing crooked flowers in his dreadlocks, smelling faintly of moss tea, while a tiny little girl held his heart so completely that all she had to do was lift her arms and ask to be carried.
And Kwei knew, without the slightest doubt, that this was the greatest honour he had ever been given.
Kwei does not understand humans. After all these years together, there are still moments that leave him completely confused. Some of them are small.
Why you smile at flowers. Why you insist on hanging dried herbs from the ceiling even when they have already served their purpose. Or why you always stop to watch the first snowfall of winter.
Others… He understands even less. Today is one of those days.
You are humming quietly to yourself while kneading dough near the fire, your youngest sitting nearby with a collection of wooden animals Kwei carved over the years. Your eldest is helping his father repair a spear shaft, though “helping” mostly consists of asking far too many questions.
Kwei is patient. More patient than the younger version of himself ever could have imagined.
“…Father?”
“Hm.”
“What is Mother’s favourite animal?”
Kwei glances toward you. Without looking up from your work, you smile.
“You are asking him?”
The boy nods enthusiastically.
“I want to know.”
Kwei answers before you can.
“The snow fox.”
“How do you know?”
“You stop to watch them every winter.”
You finally look up. A surprised smile spreads across your face.
“You noticed?”
He simply looks back at you. Of course he noticed. He notices everything about you.
The way you always sleep facing the fire. The herbs you reach for when your head aches. The songs you hum without realising it. The way your eyes brighten whenever the first snow begins to fall. These things matter because they belong to you.
That evening, after the children have fallen asleep, you sit together near the fire. Your head rests comfortably against Kwei’s shoulder while he continues carving a small piece of wood. The only sounds are the gentle scrape of his knife and the crackling fire.
“Kwei?”
“Hm.”
“Can I tell you about something we celebrated on Earth?”
“You may.”
“It was called a birthday. We celebrated every year after someone was born.”
“…Why?”
“Because we were happy they existed.”
“You already exist.” He tilts his head.
“I know.”
“So why celebrate again?”
“Because another year has passed.”
“…Humans celebrate surviving?”
“I suppose that is one way to look at it.”
He considers this very seriously.
“It seems inefficient.”
You grin.
“It probably does.”
He resumes carving.
“I celebrate you every day.”
The words are so simple that they nearly steal your breath.
“I know.”
“So why would one day be different?”
You reach for his hand, brushing your thumb across his knuckles.
“It isn’t about being different. It is about reminding the people you love how grateful you are that they were born.”
His eyes stay on yours for a long moment, hen he nods once.
“I understand.”
But judging by his expression… You are fairly certain he does not.
Months pass. Winter gives way to spring. Spring becomes summer. Life continues exactly as it always does.
Hunts.
Meals.
Children running through the house. Quiet evenings together. The conversation about birthdays disappears from your mind. Kwei, however… Remembers everything.
A few weeks before autumn arrives, he quietly begins disappearing after his hunts. Not for long. Just enough that you notice. When you ask, he answers.
“I had something to finish.”
You do not question him.
Then, your birthday arrives. You have not mentioned it. You never expected to celebrate it. It has been years since anyone did. You are preparing breakfast when Kwei enters the house carrying something wrapped carefully in soft leather. You look up.
“You are back early.”
“I am.”
“Good hunt?” You smile.
“It was.” He walks directly toward you. Stopping close enough that you can see a hint of nervousness in his posture.
It is so unusual that you almost laugh. He holds the wrapped bundle out toward you.
“This is yours.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
You carefully unwrap the leather. Inside rests the most beautiful carving you have ever seen. It is a snow fox. Its fur has been carved so carefully that every strand seems almost real. Its eyes are gentle. Its tail curls around its body exactly the way you once described seeing them sleep.
You stare, unable to speak. Your fingers trace carefully across the smooth wood.
“Kwei…”
“It is your birthday.”
“You remembered?” You look up so quickly your eyes sting.
“You told me.”
“I only mentioned it once.”
“You mentioned it.”
As if that alone explains everything. Your vision begins to blur.
“Oh…” The first tear escapes before you can stop it. Kwei immediately stiffens. His mandibles lower.
“You are crying.”
“I know.” You laugh through another tear. His expression changes instantly. Concern replaces everything else.
“Did I carve it incorrectly?”
“No.”
“Do you dislike it?”
“No.”
“Is the fox inaccurate?”
“It is perfect.” You shake your head, laughing even harder now. He still looks uncertain.
“You are crying.”
You set the carving down carefully before stepping forward and wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He freezes for only a heartbeat before embracing you just as tightly.
“I love it.” Your voice is muffled against his chest.
“I have never received something so thoughtful.”
He relaxes slightly.
“You are not unhappy?”
“No.”
“So… these are happy tears?”
You nod.
“Humans are strange.”
“We are.” You smile against him. He is quiet for a long moment before speaking again.
“I wished to remind you.”
“Of what?” You pull back slightly. His hand comes up to gently cup your face.
“That I am grateful you were born. Because if you had not…” He glances toward the room where your sons are still sleeping peacefully. “…I would not have this home.” His thumb brushes softly across your cheek, wiping away another tear. “I would not have our sons.” Then he looks back at you. “And I would not have you.”
You reach up, resting your hand over his.
“I think… you understand birthdays now.”
Kwei thinks for a moment. Then nods.
“It is not about celebrating another year.”
“No?”
“It is about thanking fate.”
“For what?”
“For bringing you into mine.”
You laugh softly before standing on your toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Behind you, a sleepy little voice suddenly breaks the quiet.
“…Mother?”
You both turn. Your eldest stands in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Can I have a birthday too?”
You burst into laughter, Kwei looks at him very seriously.
“Yes.”
The little boy grins.
“Will Father carve me something?”
Kwei looks back at you for just a moment before answering.
“I believe… that has become a tradition.”
And from that year onward, every birthday in your home was greeted not with grand celebrations or loud gatherings, but with something far more meaningful.
A hand-carved gift made with patience, thought, and love.
One unique carving for each member of the family, each telling a story that only Kwei could carve, and only the person receiving it could truly understand.
Years later, those little wooden figures would line the shelves of your home, each one a quiet reminder that love was not measured by the size of the gift, but by the care with which it had been made.
Outside, the wind brushed softly against the stone walls before disappearing into the darkness. The fire has burned low, filling the home with a gentle orange glow that dances across the furs spread throughout the room.
Everything is peaceful.
Until a small cry breaks the silence. It starts quietly.
A soft whimper. Then another.
Within moments, it grows louder. Your son has woken. Kwei opens his eyes immediately.
Years of hunting have taught him to wake at the smallest sound. Before becoming a father, that instinct meant danger.
Now… It meant a hungry baby.
He turns his head. You are still asleep beside him, curled under the heavy furs, your face is half hidden against the pillow, your breathing slow and wonderfully deep.
He watches you for a moment. Dark circles still rest underneath your eyes. Your body is healing, but not as quickly as either of you hoped.
Pregnancy had been difficult, the birth had been harder. Some days you smile and laugh as though nothing happened, but other days, he finds you asleep sitting upright because you tried so hard to stay awake with the baby that your body simply stopped listening. He hates those days. Not because you complain.
Because you never do, you always apologise instead.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him whenever he catches you struggling. “I’ll be alright.”
He wishes you would stop saying that. Because you do not need to apologise for bringing his son into the world. Another cry comes from the small cradle beside the fire.
Kwei glances back toward you.
You do not stir, not even a little.
He has learned the difference. Usually, even before the baby begins crying properly, you wake immediately.
Tonight… Nothing.
You are completely exhausted. His chest tightens. He slips carefully from the nest, making sure not to disturb you as he crosses the room.
The crying grows louder.
“I know.” His voice is low. Calm. “I hear you.”
The tiny bundle kicks impatiently underneath the blankets. Two bright eyes blink up at him, Kwei cannot help the small movement of his mandibles.
His son always looks so serious. Even while crying.
“You have your mother’s lungs,” he mutters quietly. The baby answers by crying louder. “I understand.”
He bends down carefully, one enormous hand sliding under the tiny body with a gentleness that still surprises him.
Months have passed, and he is no longer afraid of holding his son.
The first time, he had barely breathed, convinced he might somehow break him. Now the movements come naturally.
Strong arms. Gentle hands.
The baby settles against his chest, wrapped securely in one arm while Kwei reaches for the bottle you prepared before falling asleep.
“I know what you want.” The crying continues. “So impatient.”
He sits near the fire before offering the bottle. Immediately, the crying stops and Kwei lets out the quietest breath.
“There.”
The tiny hands wrap clumsily around the bottle, more interested in drinking than holding it.
For several moments, the only sound is the crackling fire. Kwei studies the small face before him.
Months old.
Growing, already stronger than he was when he first came home.
“You frightened us.” The words leave him quietly. “So small.”
His thumb brushes carefully across the baby’s soft skin.
“Your mother carried you through every season.”
His eyes drift toward the nest.
You have not moved. Still finally resting.
“I watched her become tired.” His voice grows softer. “I watched her smile anyway.”
The baby blinks sleepily, drinking without understanding a single word.
“She was sick in the mornings and sometimes at night. Sometimes all day. She said she was fine.” He huffs quietly. “She lied.”
The baby makes a tiny noise around the bottle.
“I know.” Kwei smiles to himself. “I told her the same.”
His gaze returns to you. Even asleep, you look tired. There are moments when he still remembers seeing you after the birth.
Pale. Shaking.
Barely able to keep your eyes open. Yet the first thing you asked…
“Is he alright?”
Not whether you were alright. Whether your son was.
Kwei has never forgotten it. He doubts he ever will.
“You have her heart.” He looks back down at the baby. “Kind.”
His thumb brushes gently across the baby’s tiny hand.
“You will learn from her. You will learn patience. You will need it.”
The baby finishes eating, blinking slowly as sleep begins pulling him away once more. Kwei lifts him carefully onto his shoulder. Large fingers begin rubbing slow circles across the baby’s back. The tiny body gives a quiet burp.
“There.”
He cannot help the quiet chuckle that follows.
“A mighty hunter.” Another tiny yawn. “So fierce.”
The baby’s eyes flutter closed. Within minutes, he is asleep again.
Kwei remains where he is.
Holding him, while watching the fire and watching you.
His home.
Years ago, he believed strength was measured by trophies hanging from walls. By scars. By victories.
Now…
Strength looks different. It looks like a woman who gave everything she had to bring new life into the world. It looks like a tiny child sleeping peacefully against his chest. It looks like choosing to stay awake so the person you love can finally rest.
He stands up slowly, walking back toward the cradle, he lays his son back onto the soft furs, adjusting the blanket until only his small face remains visible.
The baby sighs. Kwei watches him for another moment before returning to the nest. You are exactly where he left you.
One hand tucked under your cheek, hair falling across your face, he kneels beside you. Carefully brushing a few loose strands behind your ear. You make the smallest sound.
But you do not wake up. You only lean instinctively toward his touch. He slips back under the furs, wrapping one arm carefully around your sleeping body.
You move closer immediately, almost unconsciously, pressing against his warmth with a quiet sigh that sounds more content than anything he has heard all day. Still asleep, you whisper something he almost misses.
“…thank you…”
His eyes widen slightly. You never opened your eyes. You never woke up. Yet somehow… you knew.
He lowers his head, pressing the gentlest kiss against your forehead.
“So stubborn,” he murmurs. His hand rest over yours. “You carried him. Tonight…” His eyes close. “I will carry both of you.”
Your son sleeps peacefully. You sleep even deeper.
And Kwei stays awake for just a little while longer, listening to the steady breathing of the two people who have become the greatest purpose of his life.
Only when he is certain that both of you are resting peacefully does he finally allow himself to close his eyes, knowing that, for one night at least, you have been given the gift of uninterrupted sleep.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
