#cosmic entity reader

He whimpered your name in disbelief, and the shadows churned. His eyes blinked, hard, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Abyssal darkness, oblivion broken up by eight burning stars that fixed on him, crowned with shadowy tendrils that writhed with fury.

I don't know if I'm super proud of this, but they were a bitch to draw, and I'm calling it done. This is just my interpretation of the Reader's 'true' form, and even though I am the author, I am declaring that just because I picture and draw them one way, it doesn't mean that's how they look in canon. You are still free to picture/draw Reader however you would like!

You tried eating too, and while the motions were novel, you didn't find much enjoyment in them. It was cumbersome, really, remembering what foods must be hot, remembering to chew and swallow, but Simon liked it when you joined him for meals, so sometimes, for him, you would engage in the act. So he could have that normalcy. The comfort of something similar to home.

Human affection was a more baffling concept for you to grasp.

It was so… diverse. Vast. It took so many shapes, but there were rules—so many rules. You struggled to keep them all in a line, really.

Hand holding could be friendly, but it could also be a sign of a deeper connection between humans. Hugs could be a comfort, or an obligation; they could be between friends, family, and lovers. They could be short or long. You enjoyed both of these actions. You liked guiding Simon around your realm by the hand, and you liked it when he guided you further into the House by yours. Simon was a very tactile being, deprived of gentle touch for so long, he found comfort when curling up in your arms, and you delighted in being the source of that comfort. It was… thrilling to cradle a being like him against you.

Kisses, however… Kisses were another thing entirely. There were so many different kinds.

Kisses on the cheeks could carry so many different meanings: a greeting, a farewell, friendly, romantic, flirtatious, familial. The same could be said for foreheads. Kisses to the hands seemed to be mostly friendly, except for in certain movies where they were flirtatious or romantic? And the lips truly puzzled you. It almost always seemed to be romantic, from what you had seen and what Simon had explained—while blushing, stammering, and avoiding eye contact. All signs you had come to understand meant he was embarrassed by something.

So while you understood the vaguest concept, it just seemed…

"Wet," You declared, finally, floating thoughtfully around the kitchen, "human mouths are very wet. I do not understand what enjoyment one could acquire from pressing them to other parts of each other."

Simon snorted where he stood at the counter, carefully chopping vegetables he'd harvested from the garden earlier that day—or, well, your approximation of a day. Time did not exist in your Realm. There was no day-night cycle, but you had done your best to allow him the experience of time passing, for his comfort and mental well-being. He held the vegetables with his prosthetic hand, dark plastic catching the light, while his flesh-and-blood hand handled the knife, chopping with a precise, rhythmic sound.

"It's about connection," He finally said, beginning to cut the circular slices of carrots in half, "y'know, closeness. Don't Concepts have anything like that?"

"Yes, but it is only for bonded pairs, like Life and Death," You replied, idly drifting back over to him, floating at his side. Your expression thoughtful. "There is no… platonic example to compare to." None that you knew of, anyway, but you had existed mostly in isolation before Simon. Other Concepts would find you, occasionally, Life and Death more than the others, and you considered them 'friends', but there was no physicality in your relationships. Nothing comparable to hand-holding or embracing. That was all so very, delightfully, human. You adored it, even if you did not fully understand it.

"Huh…" Simon murmured, seeming to stand and mentally chew on that for awhile before he resumed chopping. You lapsed into silence too, more focused on watching him prepare food, a combination of fried vegetables and rice, which you both ate together before you migrated to the living room once more.

During his time here, it had become more common for the pair of you to end up tangled together on the couch. You enjoyed this kind of closeness, but it had you thinking, considering what other kinds of closeness you could have. Neither of you had applied a label to whatever it was that you were, but you cared a great deal for Simon—more than you ever had for another being—and you knew that the feeling was reciprocated. As he lay against your chest, your fingers idly played with strands of his dark, wavy hair. Until eventually, you spoke. "Little one?" Simon hummed, dark eyes lazily dragging to blink up at you. "Will you show me what kissing is like?"

That certainly got his attention.

Simon made a sound—half-way between a choked gasp and a wheeze—and jolted slightly in your hold, colour dusting across his cheeks. "Wha- wait, you want me… to?"

"Kiss me, yes," You finished the thought for him. "If it is something you would be comfortable with. I just… wish to understand."

For a moment, he was completely still, before he cleared his throat. "Alright," He whispered, "but, uh, heads up… m'probably not gonna be any good at it."

"That is fine. I have nothing to compare it to, regardless." You smiled sweetly at him.

There was a brief moment of shuffling, repositioning, until Simon was sat on his knees on the couch while you hovered slightly above it, legs crossed, watching him patiently. He worked his jaw slowly, hands gripping his knees, before he gave a shaky breath. There were words of reassurance on the tip of your tongue when he leaned forward, lips brushing your cheek briefly.

The Realm went still around you.

A gentle pressure, the faintest scratch of his beard. It wasn't… as wet as you imagined it would be. Simon's lips were soft, for the most part, pillowy, and there was a strange twisting in your stomach. "Oh…" You uttered, softly.

He leaned back. "Is that… good or…?"

"Yes," You agreed, immediately, "I would like you to do that again, please."

Simon almost giggled, the sound boyish as he shook his head. "Again? Alright then." He leant forward once more, pecking your cheek.

"Again," You hummed, leaning into him.

He fulfilled your demand, then muffled his laughter against your shoulder as the sensation that he'd opened quite the can of worms washed over him.

From that moment onward, you would occasionally drift towards him, eyes soft and a little pleading, before tilting your cheek towards him, or presenting him with your forehead. Simon would chuckle, maybe playfully grumble at you, but he'd press a kiss to the offered spot every time. And the first time you returned the favour? Well…