#...especially as individuals or as a small clan of family and friends. i want to know them intomately - as if i myself have become emeshed..

[uncanny-tranny]

There's something so insane to me about being able to create and recreate vintage or even ancient music, clothes, fabrics, building architecture, anything, really.

I watched this video about a lady who knit a WWII-era vest, and it was really unique, because the cable work would eat up yarn, when there were shortages of fibers. This pattern would have likely been used by people to send overseas to soldiers, and now it's being created in a time where this war has been over for generations. What were the people making this pattern thinking of? What about the people making the vest? Could they fathom a world where world wars didn't happen back to back? Could they imagine what peace felt like, or did it fade like a distant memory, a faint friend? All we have now are the remnants of their efforts, a "simple" vest that would warm the bodies of countless people the knitter would never have imagined were here on earth with them.

We're reaching across time to learn about other people - we're reaching our hands out just to grasp anything tangible. And when we've take hold of something, all we can do is say I love you I love you I love you

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 10: Thoma x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6545

Warnings: Afab!reader, betrothal (to Ayato) drugging, nonconsensual somnophilia, possessive behavior, piv, creampie

A/N: Very excited for this one since I didn't get to Thoma's entry for last years Kinktober, but trust that I do love this boy a ton. 🤭

⭐

As the venerated housekeeper of the Kamisato clan, Thoma was allotted a great deal of access to things that would have otherwise been strictly withheld from him, both as someone not of the family bloodline and especially because of his foreign ties to Mondstadt. Of course he’d never abuse that power or give his masters any reason to doubt his loyalty, and yet … oh, sometimes he was very tempted to throw his good sense away whenever you were involved. 

It wasn’t always like this though, when you were first brought to the estate as some kind of bargaining chip. That’s what Ayato had called you anyway, and it was only much later that he’d learned you were more like a hostage being safeguarded in the enemy stronghold. 

The young master didn’t actually want you as a future bride but as always he was willing to do whatever it took to secure the clan’s recovering standing in the political and social spheres. You were simply a tool for him to manipulate however he deemed necessary in order to get what he wanted. 

But Thoma was a sympathetic individual by nature and although he didn’t fully understand the life you’d lived as an Inazuman noble before being traded off to the Kamisato’s in exchange for certain favors, he still knew enough to pity the lack of freedom you had. First it was your powerful politician father making all your decisions for you, and now it was Ayato who would make them for you instead. It seemed a sad way to exist, particularly when he found himself thinking of Lady Ayaka and the way she might have otherwise been used as a pawn had her brother been just a little less doting and softhearted for her. 

So he’d made it a point to give you every chance he could to make decisions on your own, even if they were only the small, inconsequential sort his master wouldn’t have bothered with dictating anyway. 

Would you like barley tea or green today, my lady? 

Over easy or sunny side up, a Mondstadt specialty he’d be happy to cook up just for you. 

Blue curtains or white? 

It had seemed like little more than a casual game of temporary make believe at the start of all this. Just a short lived reprieve from the reality of the situation wherein you were no longer that helpless so-called bargaining chip who’d appeared outside the front gate one day and he was no longer a mere housekeeper. And it was exceptionally fun while it lasted, until eventually something in his heart started to shift. 

You were suddenly more than just a simple noblewoman or his master's future bride-to-be, but a friend. And then, something more. Thoma didn’t understand his own feelings very much in this situation when he knew he’d never have a real chance to be with you. Even if you weren’t politically engaged to his master, he was still only a half breed and you the daughter of nobility. The stars had never been in his favor no matter how he looked at it, and yet he still couldn’t seem to stop himself from wanting you. It was foolish, not to mention incredibly ill advised, but the longer it goes on the more he can’t help but wonder if it would be worth it to risk everything for you. 

Sometimes he’s convinced it would be, without a doubt. 

Loyalty and obligation always stop him from acting on it though. 

But then one sunny afternoon when the two of you are standing outside on the meticulously maintained pavers, seeing off your lord and lady together, it occurs to him that this just might be his chance. He was going to be alone with you until sometime the following evening so your customary game of pretend could go on uninterrupted until then. It probably wasn’t much different than kids playing house with each other but … it’s still a rare opportunity for him to speak with you candidly, if he was brave enough to take it. 

“Are you listening, Thoma?” 

Head snapping up at Ayato’s politely hedging tone, the blond offers his master an apologetic laugh. “Forgive me, my lord. I was just thinking about what I might cook for dinner with it being only the two of us tonight.” 

“Yes, I suppose this is an uncommon occurrence, isn’t it? It’s not often both my sister and I are gone at the same time so that does change your usual plans.” With a vague smile, Ayato turns his attention to where you were standing next to his housekeeper with your hands neatly folded in front of you. “I trust you’ll keep each other company in our absence? Perhaps you can go shopping together.”

In terms of suggestions, this one is gentle and it comes off as perfectly benign but you still slowly drop your attention to the ground as if abashed. It makes Thoma’s heart achingly tug in his chest, for he understood that fetching groceries was not something you were accustomed to having to do. Ayato seemed determined for you to learn how to take care of domestic matters yourself rather than relying on the staff to do it for you though, and this was far from the first instance where he’d gently nudged you so.

In truth, Thoma doesn’t like it very much but there was nothing he could do about it. He was always happy to dote on you and spoil you with little treats in privacy, but he couldn’t outright go against his master’s orders. If Ayato wanted you to learn how to competently run a house then that was what you would have to do, regardless of Thoma’s feelings on the matter. 

“We’ll make sure to bring back souvenirs.” Ayaka chimes in, largely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension that runs between you and her brother, but still always eager to be helpful. “I hope you don’t find it too terribly boring in the house all by yourselves, so please don’t hesitate to go out if you think of something fun to do.”

“Thank you, Lady Ayaka.” You murmur with a gracious nod of your chin. 

“Thank you, my lady. I trust you’ll have a safe trip.” Thoma tacks on, keeping his voice light and cheery to distract from his own feelings on the matter. “Everything will be just fine, I promise. We’ll be right here to welcome you back when you return.” 

Standing side by side, you and Thoma watch the siblings board the waiting ox driven palanquin after issuing their final goodbyes to the two of you. With a rumbling lurch, the enclosed carriage lumbers off down the road headed straight for the near distant Chinju Forest and, even further than that, the bustling city. 

For a prolonged moment neither of you speaks or makes a move to go back inside, both likely waiting on the other to make the decision first. He understood that Ayato leaving him in charge of the household while he was gone meant that you would automatically defer to him but you were still a noble and should have been the one calling the shots here. It had the potential to make for a very awkward atmosphere if he didn’t nip it in the bud now. 

“So,” He blurts before he can second guess himself, turning a kind smile on you. “What shall we have tonight, my lady? We don’t get opportunities like this very much so choose whatever you want and I’ll prepare it for us later.” 

A look of mild relief flashes across your face but you quickly lift the corner of your sleeve to hide the tentative curve of your mouth. “Is that really alright? Then … could we have curry, Thoma?” 

His heart gives another tug at that, except it’s an affectionate pull this time. He’d quickly realized that your palate skewed towards an almost childish sense of taste and the more simple a dish was, the better. It was hard to say if it was just a personal quirk or simply one developed by a picky eater who was used to having their proclivities catered to but, whatever the reason, he found it rather cute. 

It was also good news for him because curry was an easy dish to make that required very little in the way of ingredients, least of all anything that he shouldn’t already have on hand. That would likely save you from at least one shopping trip. 

“Of course we can! Y’know, I was actually thinking the same thing myself.” 

Your head comes up with a hopeful little smile. “Really?” 

No, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“Yeah, curry’s always a good choice in my book. Good pick.” Reaching out, Thoma politely offers you his hand which you readily accept, showing none of your earlier reticence now that it was just the two of you. It was exactly the sort of ease of conversation he’d been hoping for. “Come on, let’s go back in. Would you like me to prepare some tea and an afternoon snack to hold you over until dinner?” 

“Yes, please. That sounds lovely.” 

Guiding you by the hand, Thoma escorts you inside the sprawling manor home and back into the small sitting room attached to your bed chamber. As a male servant he’d never been inside before but the brief glimpses he’d caught on the rare occasion had tempted him greatly. Even now he can feel its exigent pull enticing him to take you inside and lay you down across the goose feather futon so he can kiss every inch of your body. 

Instead he gets you situated at the stout little table sat just inside the sliding shoji doors which he then moves to open and let some fresh air in before turning back to you again. 

“What sort of tea would you like today?” 

You think on that only briefly. “Do we still have the kukicha tea I’m partial to?” 

“Certainly. I make sure to stay stocked up on it now that I know you like it so much. I’ll be right back.”

Taking his leave, Thoma bustles down to the kitchen where he gets to work preparing everything with a little hop in his step. He’s so eager to spend this much uninterrupted time with you, in fact, that he almost feels a bit guilty for it. Surely this was betraying Ayato’s trust in some way? To covet his master's future wife was just asking for trouble in the long run but, he tries to convince himself, what Ayato didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

Except he would know, wouldn’t he? If Thoma actually broached the topic of his feelings for you there was a chance it could get back to his master somehow. He didn’t think you would outright tell Ayato anything, because you barely speak to him at all outside of polite niceties, but if you started behaving differently around the family housekeeper … 

Ayato was far too clever not to suspect if he didn’t already. Suddenly Thoma was much less certain that he was brave enough to take on the risk and not quite as excited anymore as result. 

But then something catches his attention when he’s digging in the cabinet for the tin of tea leaves he’s looking for. A small glass vial of liquid pushed off to the side that he distantly recognizes as a powerful sleep tonic. The elderly Furuta sometimes used it to help her sleep at night through the aches and pains in her joints, and Thoma himself had even prepared it for her on a few occasions. He wasn’t quite sure of its efficacy but now that his mind has alighted upon it as a potential solution for his problems, he finds it incredibly difficult to reject the possibilities it presented. 

He’s almost horrified at the direction his own thoughts are taking. 

There was no way he’d actually go so far as to drug you … right? 

But he’s considering it very deeply. Not with any nefarious purposes in mind, of course, but just to perhaps test the waters. If you were relaxed enough to let it slip how you felt about him he could better figure out how to handle this situation without running half of the risk that came with it. And if it was bad and you showed him no reciprocal interest at all, there was a good chance you’d be so sleepy that you wouldn’t even recall the conversation happening in the first place. 

It seemed like the perfect chance to weigh his future decisions more accurately than he currently could, but did he really dare to do it? 

Wracked with indecision, Thoma hesitates for a tortuously long moment before at last reaching out to curl his fingers around the little vial. His stomach feels like it’s twisting itself in anxious knots as he pulls the bottle out to give its sloshing contents a closer inspection. On one hand he knew that this was way over the line and he didn’t really deserve to have you if this was the kind of underhanded tactics he had to resort to. 

But on the other there was no telling when next he might get the opportunity if he didn’t take it now. His indecision might very well cost him his only chance to talk to you without causing even greater problems for himself in the long run. At least doing it this way was close to harmless and the worst you might get out of it was a very sound nap. 

He curses his own weakness as he straightens up after grabbing the tin of tea leaves so he can finish getting everything ready. His nerves almost get the better of him and nearly stay his hand but ultimately the temptation proves far too great for him to resist. A few drops of the tonic are added into your steeping tea and then, just to be certain you wouldn’t remember anything, he adds a few more. He just sorely hoped he wasn’t making a monumental mistake in doing this. 

Feeling sick with some crushing amalgamation of guilt and anxious uncertainty, Thoma loads everything up on a tray and carries it back to where you’re patiently waiting for him. At the sound of the door opening, you turn to smile at him as he steps into the room and it just makes him feel all the worse for what he’s about to do to you. 

But that doesn’t stop him from placing the tea and small bowl of carefully selected rice crackers down in front of you, along with an even smaller dish he’d filled with a handful of colorful konpeito. 

You always love the little treats he sneaks you when no one is looking, and of course that’s the first thing you reach for. Popping a tiny blue sugar cluster in your mouth, you hum a happy sound that makes his heart cartwheel inside his chest as he gets himself situated across from you with a cup of his own. Undrugged, of course. 

He could almost kick himself for actually going through with this but it’s much too late for him to start having second thoughts now. All he can do is nervously watch you take up your tea to blow on the wafting steam coming up off it before taking a sip. 

Slowly blinking, you tip your face down to look inside the cup with a curious expression. 

“Is something wrong, my lady?” He asks, hating the slight waver in his voice. Luckily you don’t seem to pick up on it though. 

“No, I don’t think so. It just tastes a bit different from usual, that’s all.” 

“O - oh? I’m so sorry. Please, let me remake it for you.” All but jumping at the chance to take back what he now recognized beyond any shadow of doubt to be a horrible mistake, Thoma starts to get up yet you’re quick to wave it off. 

“It’s alright. There’s no need to trouble yourself, I promise. I don’t think it tastes bad, just different.” 

“Ah, well … if you’re sure then, my lady?” 

To his mounting regret, you are indeed certain that the tea is at least agreeable enough to drink and you proceed to sip on it without another thought to the matter over the following few minutes. He briefly considers snatching it away from you or demanding you hand it over to him, but he recognized that that would be far too suspicious on his part. Even for as much as you seemed to trust him, there was no way you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that something was amiss. 

So he just watches you gradually drink it down until there’s nothing left and the snacks are all gone save his own half eaten cracker. In truth he was feeling a bit too nauseous to finish it or his tea for that matter, but he readily writes it off as not being particularly hungry when you ask.  

And then ever so slowly your eyelids seem to grow heavy with fatigue, making it harder and harder for you to keep your gently nodding head held up. Thoma is admittedly rather impressed at how quickly the tonic starts to work, having never stayed with Furuta to observe the effect it has on the elderly woman, but then thrumming uncertainty takes hold of him when you begin to slouch. 

Had he put too much of the stuff in your drink or was this normal? 

He’s honestly not sure, and he anxiously watches you struggle to stay awake even when it was apparent that you were quickly losing the fight. 

“Are you alright?” He finally dares to ask in a small voice that makes you twitch your drooping head back up. 

“Mm’ fine. Just sleepy.” 

His brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline. You almost sounded like you were drunk, which was something he’d never heard coming from you before. Was that elixir really supposed to be this powerful? 

“I see. Would you … like me to help you into bed, my lady?” 

Sluggishly shaking your head, you valiantly try to rouse yourself back to wakefulness again. “No, but thank you, Thoma. It’s the middle of the day. I can’t —“ You cut off with a sudden yawn that you bring the wide brim of your sleeve up to politely cover. “Mmm, I can’t be caught lazing about in bed, can I?” 

“I won’t tell anyone.” He tries hopefully but you once again shake your head. 

“S’alright. I’ll just. Close my eyes for a moment. Right here.” 

His heart hammering a panicked rhythm inside his chest, Thoma watches you slowly sink down onto the floor on your side of the table. He quickly pushes up on his knees to lean across and peer over the edge of it, using his considerable height to his advantage. Sure enough, you’re curled up in a tight little ball with the sleeves of your kimono tucked up by your face. Out cold by the looks of it. 

Great Narukami, what has he done? As if drugging you wasn’t bad enough, now you were sleeping on the floor? 

Telling himself that it was imperative he stay calm in a situation like this, Thoma stands up and carefully shuts the shoji doors to hide his wrongdoings from the rest of the world before walking around to kneel next to you. He’s more than just slightly relieved to find you still breathing when he places a gentle hand on your shoulder but you don’t even stir at his touch. Your breaths are so deep and evened out that he knows with absolute certainty you wouldn’t be waking up any time soon even if he were to try shaking you awake, and he can’t help feeling a bit disappointed at that.

So much for his chance to talk to you. 

“I’m so sorry, my lady.” He wretchedly sighs. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

Observing the steady rise and fall of your topmost shoulder another a moment longer, Thoma at last decides that the least he can do is carry you to bed. It wasn’t right to let you sleep on the floor anyway, but he would have been beside himself if you ended up catching a cold due to his own negligence. 

So he reaches out to carefully nudge you over onto your back and get his hands under you to lift, but that’s about as far as he makes it. The shift turns your peaceful face up at him and stops him in his tracks. The slight part of your slackened lips catch his attention more than anything else, but it’s a truly ethereal picture you paint like this. Like some kind of sleeping goddess the ancients would have told tales about. 

Against his better judgment, he finds himself carefully weighing his options out. It’s a terrible thing to even consider and he knows it’s a choice that would make you hate him if you ever found out but … one kiss couldn’t hurt, could it? Just a quick peck to sate the yearning in his heart and then he’d put you right to bed where you would be safe and sound to sleep off the effects of the tonic. 

Sure, it was a little selfish of him and it was also wrong for a commoner as he was to presume such of a noble. It should have been Ayato kissing you as a fellow member of the Inazuman upper class, not him, but Ayato didn’t seem to have any genuine interest or affection for you. And if Thoma was reading the situation right, you didn’t have any love to give him either. 

Wasn’t it better to be kissed by someone whose feelings for you were earnest and sincere? Even if you would never know that the kiss had even happened in the first place or that the loyal housekeeper cared for you so deeply he was willing to risk everything he had for nothing more than a slim chance? 

Swallowing down his nerves with a great deal of difficulty, Thoma nervously licks his lips before leaning forward to brace his hands on the floor and bracket your head between them. Still, you do not stir, nor do your lashes so much as flutter at the soft creak from the tatami. It seemed harmless enough, or so he tries to convince himself as he carefully lowers to hover just over your mouth. 

Your breath is sweet and carries with it vague notes of tea when it wafts over his face mere millimeters from yours. A tense shudder works through him, his breathing coming a little quicker now as he drags his gaze over your perfectly at ease expression. You’d never know. Just one kiss, that’s all. 

Closing the scant distance, Thoma tentatively places his lips against yours in such a soft, featherlite brush that it probably wouldn’t have even registered in his mind were it not for the vague tingle of static that bleeds into his skin at the point of contact. It’s almost like a slow motion zap of electricity that sends his heart galloping out of control and his stomach further twists itself up into a tangled mess as he sucks in a rattling breath. 

He has no idea what to make of it or even what to think, beyond the one simple thought that he needed more. Once wasn’t enough and he was a fool for ever deluding himself into believing that it was. 

Groaning a quiet sound, he immediately gives in to the temptation and kisses you again, firmly this time. Your lips are warm and softly inviting against his own even when you make no move to reciprocate or pull away. You remain completely slack and pliant underneath him as he places a series of increasingly desperate, coaxing pecks to your mouth in hopes that you might give some sign that you felt something for him too. 

Of course you don’t, though. It was obvious now that he’d used a bit too much of the tonic and you remain completely unaware of what’s happening as he works your lips open so he can slip his tongue inside to taste you. It almost comes as a shock to him, when the distinct flavor of you washes over his taste buds, and he distantly wonders how he’d let it get to this point. 

But it’s like he can’t stop now that he’s started and, blindly reaching up to yank his plated headband off so he can toss it across the floor, Thoma hungrily sinks into you with an increasing sense of urgency. Not only did he need you, it felt like he just might die if he didn’t follow through on the demanding pull of his body. How could one person be so perfect and lovely, yet always be kept right out of his reach? It wasn’t fair to expect him to only look but never touch, especially when his master didn’t really seem to want anything to do with you at all. 

Surely you would have been much happier being betrothed to him instead. 

Surely he could’ve made you happy in taking care of your every need and never making you do the grocery shopping yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” He mutters against your now kiss swollen lip, gasping into the razor thin space between you two. 

Still you don’t respond, too far gone in the peaceful embrace of slumber to even hear him. That was probably for the best though, he thinks, considering how jittery and anxious he feels as he sits up to fumble the bracer off his left arm and then his gloves are quickly discarded too. Shrugging out of his jacket to leave just the black shirt underneath, Thoma leans back down to peck a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, your chin and then the narrow strip of flesh just below that. 

To get at anything else he has to unfold the neck of your kimono but that quickly turns into shoving at the rest to get it out of the way before he even fully realizes he’s doing it. The obi around your middle makes it virtually impossible to completely disrobe you without first sitting you upright somehow, which even in the height of his fanatic delirium he knows better than to do. So he resorts to simply tugging at the high quality material until it’s pulled back enough to expose your chest to his voracious gaze. 

Your breasts are heavy in a way that makes his mouth water uncontrollably as soon as he lays on them, and he reaches out to reverently cup them in his palms. The nipples dotting them are smooth, softened little buds, but they quickly start to stiffen when he gives your tits a slow motion squeeze to feel the fleshy give under his fingers. 

Suddenly realizing what he’s doing, Thoma stills over top of you and just stares for a long stretch of moments. How had he gotten to this point? And so quickly at that. 

He’s a bit amazed at his own lack of self control, how little encouragement he’d actually needed to just help himself like this. But there’s no denying that you feel good, taste good, smell good in a way that’s intoxicating to every single one of his senses. And it’s not as if he was hurting you or ever would for that matter. It was just touching you. 

And then he leans down to take one of your half hard nipples in his mouth, and it quickly becomes just licking you. His laving tongue rapidly turns the soft peak fleshy and stiff, which he greedily sucks towards the back of his throat as if trying to instinctively coax warm milk out of you. 

That’s when you finally give your first subconscious reaction in the form of a breathy sigh that makes your chest rise and then fall against his face. It almost sufficiently scares him off from going any further, just that brief implication that you might wake up and catch him red handed. But when he sits up to look at you, he finds that your face is still completely relaxed and there isn’t even so much as a twitch behind your eyelids.

Drawing a shuddering breath to calm his nerves, Thoma slides his hand up to carefully idle his thumb back and forth over your spit coated teat. The only response he gets is a breathy little sound that registers as suspiciously reminiscent of a moan in his ringing ears. 

Did that mean you liked it then? Were you possibly enjoying this on some innate, purely physical level? 

But if you wanted this as he wanted it then — 

His stirring cock immediately springs up to push against the interior of his pants as a faltering low groan escapes his mouth. The realization that he could make you feel good unlike anyone else ever had spurs him on in a way that very nearly steals his breath away. He’d never been quite this hard or quite this desperate to settle himself between someone’s legs before, and he knew on some deeply intrinsic level that that had to mean something. Your body was responding to him even when your higher functioning mind was completely oblivious to what was happening, and that had to count for something, didn’t it? 

Hunching closer, Thoma brings his other set of fingers up to tweak the opposite nipple and tease it to a stiff, seeking point as well. This one he also takes into his mouth and suckles, switching back and forth between the two buds until both are flushed a darker shade than when he’d started and achingly stiff. The unconscious way you begin to restlessly shift assures him that you liked what he was doing to you and encourages him to keep going far beyond what he’d initially said he would. 

He tells himself it’s for you though, for your pleasure, for your sake, not his, as he works his way lower to pull the bottom half of your kimono open and expose your decidedly grabbable thighs to his line of sight. The thin band of cotton around your hips keeps your pussy hidden from him but he can clearly make out the outline of pudgy soft lips through the flimsy garment. He almost feels faint from the sheer extent of his own arousal as he reaches out to lightly trace his fingertips along that tender center seam, only feeling more emboldened when you let out another soft sigh. 

On some level Thoma realizes he’s starting to sweat rather profusely, his own frazzled nerves coupled with the intense throb of his arousal making him feel incredibly hot, but he forces himself to take it nice and slow as he teases over your cunt. He almost can’t believe he’s actually thinking about following this through straight to its natural conclusion despite how grossly irresponsible and foolish it would be of him to do so. But your continued silence registers as approval, especially when you subconsciously nudge your hips up to follow the pressure of his hand. 

Clearly you didn’t hate it and if he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure you were ready first. He’d never hurt you no matter how worked up he got. And it doesn’t take a genius to realize you were in much the same state of arousal, given both the way you increasingly fidget there on the floor and the damp spot that slowly bleeds through your underwear as well. He couldn’t bear the thought of not taking care of you and attending to your needs when you were like this. 

“Alright, let’s get these off now.” Thoma finally whispers to you even as his heart pounds a violent rhythm inside his chest. 

Hooking his fingers in your underwear, he makes careful work of slowly easing them down your hips. His first glimpse of the soft hair and the fleshy slit running up your body very nearly has him shooting off inside his pants, and he groans a wounded little sound while he forces himself to stay focused on the task at hand. 

Leaving your tabi socks in place when he unhooks the panties from your ankles, Thoma carefully spreads your legs out across the floor to bear your sweet cunt to him. Even at just a glance he can spot the fine sheen of moisture glistening along the creases and folds, but he still takes a moment to touch you with his hand and test the slick quality for himself. You were quite wet, actually, and more than ready for him by the looks of it. 

Did he really dare to take it that far though? 

The nagging little voice of reason in the back of his mind manages to give him pause, kneeling there with you completely laid out before him in an inviting pile of splayed limbs and womanly curves. 

Unfortunately the demanding flex of his aching cock overrides his better judgment, and he quietly seethes as he reaches down to fumble with his pants. He can’t seem to free himself quickly enough, nearly sobbing in relief when he at last takes his rigid length in hand. Giving it a brief, ginger squeeze in hopes of dissuading his impending release even a little bit, he uses the other to lift the hem of his black shirt so he can stick it in his mouth and keep it out of the way. 

Hopefully it would also help keep his voice down, but given how tightly his balls were already drawing up in warning, he wasn’t so sure it would do much good. 

Feeling faint and delirious, he at last nudges closer to line himself up, taking a moment to just draw his leaking cockhead through your sticky slit. And he almost backs out at the last second, his heart telling him that this wasn’t right. There was a whole host of things wrong with this but the least of which was that you were almost certainly a virgin. He’d be deflowering you in doing this and taking the chastity that for all intents and purposes should have gone to Ayato. No matter how much neither of you seemed to care for one another, it was still a part of the contract. Did Thoma really have the right to claim that for himself? 

Probably not, but he tells himself it’ll be just the tip. Just enough for him to feel you embracing him in the tight, wet squeeze of your body and then he’d pull right out. No harm, no foul. 

Except that small allowance quickly proves not enough as soon as he starts to sink that little bit into you. The sensation is beyond anything he could have ever imagined it to be or braced himself for, and he hisses an overwhelmed sound into the still air. ‘Just the tip’ turns into a greater allowance of ‘one more inch’, and then another, and another, until he eventually finds his pelvis settling snug against yours. 

Panting and gasping for breath, Thoma makes a desperate attempt to keep his head on straight and think through the disorienting fog that hangs heavy over him. It’s no use though. You feel too good for him to deny himself the urge to thrust into you, which he does with a careful, slow motion flex of his locked hips. A wild shudder races through him at just that brief amount of friction, making him lurch and drop the end of his shirt in favor of moaning your name. 

You don’t respond to that either, of course, but your pussy has completely accepted him and he simply can’t conceive stopping now. So he thrusts again, rallying every ounce of his self control to keep his orgasm at bay, and you issue a threadbare whimper when he seems to knock something inside you this time. 

“Shh, shh. It’s alright. I’ve got you. I — auughhn, bless the gods, I’ll take care of you, my lady. Don’t worry. Just hold on for me, okay?” 

Softly cooing breathless reassurances at you, Thoma stiffly fucks himself into the clinging grip of your cunt. Each push and pull draws a sticky little click out of you, further feeding into his own shameful desire and encouraging him to keep going. For your sake, not his. Right? 

He just wanted you to feel good, that’s all. 

But everything about you is like an all powerful compulsion, a sweet drug he couldn’t help but covet for himself even when he should have known better. 

You belonged with him, not Ayato, and this was proof enough of that, wasn’t it? 

You were softly sighing pleasured little sounds because of him, not his master. 

Your breasts were gently heaving with the shuddering push of his hips working against you, not anyone else’s, puffy nipples straining for more of his attention. 

And your tight little cunt was like a vice around Thoma’s cock, squeezing him in a sedate pulse that he thinks must mirror your heartbeat for as steady it is. It’s like you were subconsciously trying to milk him dry, instinctively seeking out that which only he could give you. 

This was his rightful spot between your legs, not Ayato’s. 

“M - my lady!” He suddenly croaks, lurching over top of you when an intense, bone deep spasm rocks through him with a truly aggressive shudder. 

All at once he’s cumming, twitching sensitively through an orgasm he’d tried to hold back but can’t seem to stop now that it’s happening. He also can’t bring himself to pull out of you, shooting off wildly inside your cunt to paint it creamy and white. Even in the blinding height of his release he can tell that he’s filling you up to the brim with the fat load he deposits into you, and it quickly starts to dribble out around his flexing cock when he slows the motion of his hips to a savory grind. 

And it’s over in an instant. 

He doesn’t even get enough time to fully bask in the relief that comes with release before clarity slams into him like a solid brick. Hunched over you and gasping for air, Thoma instantly realizes how badly he’s messed up. He shouldn’t have done this. Not any of it, but least of all this. Cumming inside you … what was he even thinking? 

Gingerly, he moves to pull out of you with a sloppy wet slurp that makes him wince before sitting back on his knees to inspect the damage. One look between your spread thighs is enough to nearly send him spiraling into full blown panic. He didn’t know how to fix this or if there was even anything he could reasonably do about it at this point, but the evidence of his misdeeds was clear as day. 

The sticky glob of semen dripping out of your flushed cunt to track down the crease was beyond damning. It might as well have been a death sentence.

⭐

Cross posted: here

[endlessdreamworld]

Rejected xx Rejection

Yandere! Ayato X Noble! GN Reader

TW: Gaslighting, imprisonment, death, threats of suicide

Another proposal. Yet another hand written missive that was dripping with honeyed words, and flowery metaphors about everything that made you perfect, graced your desk. Tragically, you were used to navigating the exhausting political landscape of Inazuma’s nobility, and had to be, especially given the social standing of your family. The amount of clans that could rival yours in power, wealth, and influence could be counted on one hand. Presently, the head of one such clan, Kamisato Ayato, had been relentless in his pursuit of your hand the moment you were of age to be married. Of course, he wasn’t the only one, but he was the one you had the hardest time rejecting.

From the outside looking in, it didn’t make any sense. You were childhood friends, equal in social standing, and your families could gain much from the union. Your excuse of “I’m not ready yet” has carried you for the past couple of years, but it’s starting to run its course. The social circumstances didn’t allow you to turn him down in favor of a lower house without terrible implications and issues for your family, and the Kamisato head has made it apparent that he wouldn’t be backing down.

Before you could even begin to mentally unpack how you would piece together another cordial rejection to his most recent proposal, a servant approached you. “Beg your pardon, but your father wishes to have a word with you in the study.” You acknowledged your servant and then sent them away before they had the chance to hear you groan. It’s always something lately, some gala that needed attending, some dignitaries that needed entertaining, and all other manner of nonsense. It was enough to make you want to roll your eyes so far back in your head you could swallow them. And damn that Kamisato and his never-ending proposals. Doesn’t he have anything better to do? If anything he should be more busy as he is the current family head, and not just the primary heir like you.

Before long you had arrived in the study, and a servant opened the door for you to enter. Much to your horror, you found the person who you wanted to see least of all warmly smiling and elegantly laughing with your father who was as pleased as can be. On the table next to him was a large loosely wrapped bouquet. All attention was on you the moment you entered the room. Ayato stood to attention and gave you a deep self humbling bow without a moment of hesitation – something that was nearly socially inconceivable. Your father nudged him with his elbow, “Oh come on now, everyone knows you might as well be family.” Ayato gave a small amused laugh. Your father stood up and excused himself so the two of you could talk. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The door closed behind him, and the air grew thick enough to drown in. “It’s been a while,” Ayato gave you a half-lidded gaze, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was immaculately dressed in formal attire that screamed ‘not your usual visit’ and you hated how good he looked. Ayato unwrapped the decorative paper of the ‘bouquet’ to reveal that it was not a bouquet at all but about a dozen assorted individual flowers.

“Why are you here?” You spat out. All decorum has left you save for being quiet enough to not alert the servants. Acting irrationally would reflect poorly on your father. The servants had made themselves scarce and you hated how they were all eager for your relationship to progress, so they wouldn’t dare interrupt.

“Isn’t it obvious?” It was obvious, but you weren’t going to dignify that question with an answer just to give him more work. You wanted to give him a hard time. Ayato gave a soft hum of happiness not at all discouraged by your silence. “I stopped by to see you, and to drop this off.:” He motioned towards a well wrapped decorative box that you’ve seen many times. It’s a special sesame candy that’s only available this time of year. “I know just how much you love it, and luckily for me, it was in season.” It was in fact your favorite, and he’s done this many years in a row without fail, and you never grew to hate the taste though you wish you had.

“Please have a seat, we have much to discuss.” You silently complied. The faster you can reject him, the faster he can get the hell out of your family home. Ayato paced behind you, grabbed something, and then set it in front of you – a heavy square tan ceramic vase. “I made the time to take some lessons in flower arrangement. You inspired me to.” Ayato picked up a flower with an overly long stem then stood behind you, thinking of which way it should lean against the lip of the inside of the vase. You could feel his chest brush against your hair, and some hanging decorative silk of his upper garment brush against the bare skin of the back of your wrists while you watch him assess then reassess. You stewed and silently watched his arrangement come together.

You began to feel sick as you watched him work. He was good at arranging flowers, just like he is at everything else. The way he arranged the flowers, and the order he arranged them in, told the story of your friendship, when it began and where you are now, though you wouldn’t call it friendship now. He even chose a flower for himself, and a flower that depicted you, and his choices were spot on. Until this point, you had no idea someone could depict any inside joke with flower arrangements, but you sure wish you didn’t find out – not like this. And of course it ended up with another proposal. It was an absolute tragedy that someone who knew you so well disregarded your most important feelings. There was certainly an alternate reality where you fell for Ayato for all of the reasons people on the outside were assuming. How did it all go so wrong?

It would be just easier to give in, and you’re sure you could find happiness in it all, but it’d be a warped sense of happiness, so you’d rather say no for the sake of saying no. “How many times do I have to tell you no, Kamisato?” You spat the words out, and used his last name as an act of defiance.

“It’ll never be enough. You know that.” He lifted his hands from the arrangement, then placed them on your shoulders. Ayato gave them a soft squeeze. This shocked you, and despite your best efforts your breath hitched in your throat. Archons that felt incredible. You didn’t realize how stiff you had become from the day in day out stress of your social obligations. The Kamisato head didn’t fail to pick up on your body’s betrayal despite how hard you tried to hide it. “What’s wrong?” He laughed as quiet as a whisper right next to your ear. His hair brushed against your neck and you shivered. Ayato wasted no time and began to give your shoulders a proper massage. Your skin couldn’t decide if it wanted to grow hot or to crawl, and it settled for needles anywhere he wasn’t touching you.

You could feel hot angry tears pool in the corner of your eyes. “Why?”

“Why?” He stops everything, breathing included. You’ve never asked him why, only given him a No. You swore you could feel his long elegant fingers shake against the muscles of your shoulders as if he suddenly became unsure with the way he was touching you. And then, just as suddenly as he stopped, he started up again as if nothing had happened.

“Because no one in this world deserves you.”

“Except for you?” you scoff.

“Including me. Though luckily for us I’m second to no one.” Oh for fuck’s sake. How does he manage to be so delusional while still being lucid? “Do you ever wonder why you’ve gotten so busy all of a sudden?” You didn’t like the sound of that question. “You look stressed – you feel stressed,” he made sure to squeeze your shoulders harder this time. “Do you want it all to end?” Of course he’s behind this recent influx of responsibilities.

You’ve had enough. You clench your jaw and dig your fingernails into the palms of your hands as sharply as you can, hoping the pain will help you find the willpower to wrench yourself free from his grasp. You rip free and spin to face him. You weren’t sure what kind of expression you were expecting to see on Ayato’s face, but a soft composed smile wasn’t one of them. Normally he would look at you like a cat before it’d catch its prey, like you were playing some game of cat and mouse, but seeing proper happiness was eerie. Other times he’d look at you with a smug smile like he knew something you didn’t, and worst of all he would do this openly if you ever had the misfortune to encounter him at social gatherings. You hated it. You hated him.

“Get out.”

He pulls away from you, his expression more warm than before. “Of course. Until next time.”

That was the last time you saw Ayato before your life was turned into a living hell. By the end of the month, the Tenryou commission raided your estate, and dragged you from your home. You could still remember your father’s infuriated yelling as they dragged you outside by your shoulders.

The next time you saw Ayato, you had been imprisoned for over a month. You were hungry, filthy, and angrier than you had ever been before. The charges weighed against you were false, that you were in possession of a delusion, and had plans to overthrow the shogunate. It’s been ages since you saw your father, and every few days a member of the commission came into your cell to “teach you a lesson.” 

The sound of the cell door creaking up startles you. Not again. You curl yourself into a ball on the ground and cover your head with your arms preemptively. 

“Oh my.” It’s been so long since you heard his voice. Ayato walks through the cell and stops, standing before you. You don’t move to acknowledge him, since this was clearly his fault. His scheme. How dare he do this to you!? He framed you, though it’s anyone’s guess how he got his hands on a delusion. “You look like a mess.”

You don’t yield, or give into his taunt. Ayato kneels down, now much closer to your level, “They finally decided what’s to be done with you.” He’s almost whispering when he says, “You’ve been sentenced to death.”

You try your best not to cry, but your best didn’t stop a pained sob from leaving your chest. Before long, you’ve fallen apart completely. Ayato is silent through your open sobs, maybe he’s waiting for you to beg him to get you out of the mess he put you in, but you don’t.

He leans closer to you, and tilts your chin up to look him in the eye. It’s that same expression as before, but sharper. “I can save you though. The execution date is two weeks from today.” He’s close enough that you could feel his breath tickle your dry, cracked lips.

You give a dry laugh. “I’d rather die.” You tell him coldly. If you couldn't be free to live your life as you wanted, then you would rather die. Finally, all of his hard work would be undone, and you’d take it to your grave. But, why does he look like that? You figured he would look indignant, frustrated, or unhappy that you would choose to be defiant until your last breath. So why does he look like you said exactly what you wanted him to? You felt sick.

Ayato stood up wordlessly, and headed towards the door. He smiled back at you over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in two weeks.” The gate slammed shut.

After that, no one came into your cell anymore. No more beatings, no more news whatsoever, just your scheduled meals. Then the day had finally arrived. Your cell door was thrust open, and it wasn’t Ayato who greeted you this time, but his sister Ayaka. She rushed towards you and then embraced you. “Thank goodness you’re okay.” Ayaka pats your grime covered face. What in the world could possibly be happening? “My brother worked so hard to prove your innocence in time. I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you, but everything will be okay now.” Ayaka helped pull you upright, and headed towards the cell door, effectively carrying you out.

“Where are we going?” You croak out.

“The Kamisato estate. I’m so sorry about everything that happened to you. Thank goodness my brother cleared your name in time” She sounded like she was about to cry. “I’m so sorry about what your father did to you.” “My father?”

“Yes, everyone now knows that the delusion found in your family estate was his, and he was using it to manipulate you and keep you away from my brother. He said you might not be okay mentally for a while, some kind of emotional damage caused by the delusion, but it’s okay because you’ll be with us now. We’ll take care of you.” She breathed out a sigh of relief, as if the words were heavy in her mind, and she could finally unburden herself. “Everyone thought it was peculiar why the two of you didn’t just get married already, and it finally made sense.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“Oh, him? You don’t need to worry about him anymore. He was put to death earlier today so you wouldn’t have to see it.” Ayaka held you the entire way out. She was genuinely happy for the freedom and salvation she believed you were granted – that you deserved. Your mouth was dry. You couldn’t say anything. All you could do was accept that no one would believe a word that would come out of your mouth given these new circumstances.

Some Kamisato family servants and Ayaka escorted you outside. It was the first time you saw the sun in who knows how long. You looked up to see Ayato standing next to a carriage waiting for you. He rushed towards you the moment he saw you, and all but pried you from Ayaka and the rest. “I'm so glad you’re okay. I was worried sick about you. No one’s ever going to hurt you ever again, I’ll make sure of it. And we can finally be together, just like we’ve always wanted.”

There’d probably be people around you at all times since they’d be afraid you’d be a risk to yourself. You were outmaneuvered and overpowered. Now, you had no one, and you didn’t even have the freedom to die anymore.

Just what kind of monster is Kamisato Ayato?

[tastesoftamriel]

Hello, Talviel! What are funeral traditions of various races? More precisely, what food traditions do families in mourning have? (for example, where i live, people give little bags with sweets to everyone, strangers and relatives, and have a big feast of food with no eggs or dairy on the day of funeral, and then 40th day and one year, and i was wondering what would different tamrielic traditions be)

Funerary food isn't something I've put huge amounts of thought into, as thankfully I haven't attended many funerals. However, I did a bit of digging and asking around, and managed to put together a list for you.

Altmer

The High Elves, right to the grave, find the need to be grandiose, yet dignified. Funeral wakes are an important social gathering, and no expenses are spared by family or friends when it comes to feasting. Everything from roast duck pancakes to almond-stuffed heron breast and vegetable tartines are on offer (as well as a lot of wine), and the more extravagant the feast, the more loved an Altmer was.

Argonians

Funerals are taken very seriously in Argonian customs, and it is traditional, especially for prominent community members, for members of a tribe to band together and make a large, fermented fruit and honey cake that symbolises the life of an individual. The cake is shared amongst funeral guests, but a large chunk is also left as an offering by the grave stake.

Bosmer

The Bosmer tend to save their precious rotmeth for special occasions, funerals included. A special dish of ground bone meal, minced meat, butter, and marrow is commonly eaten at the wake, and washed down with rotmeth as it's quite a dry dish. And no, I'm not going to be elaborating on eating the dead.

Bretons

Casserole dishes are the most common sight at funerals in High Rock, because they're easy to make and feed plenty of people. Macaroni bakes with chicken, tuna, spinach, or cheese are the most common, as well as dishes like fish pie, meatloaf, and scalloped potatoes. It's all hearty, homey food that will temporarily help you forget your sorrows.

Dunmer

House Dunmer funerary practices have thus far been closed to me as an outlander, so I can only speak of one Ashlander funeral I attended. Traditionally, baked ash yams are offered to the dead by each funeral guest, which are then mashed together with a paste of comberry, saltrice, canis root, and gold kanet. The mashed yam is served hot with a rich bone broth, and is eaten together in silence.

Imperials

The Cyrodiilic tradition for those who worship the Nine is generally a full spread of food with as many comforting small dishes as possible. Usually, friends and family will bring a dish each, leading to proper feasts if the deceased was popular. While there is no specific taboo on what foods can or cannot be eaten, strong flavours are uncommon and sometimes even frowned upon. Things you can expect to find are slaughterfish cakes, dill salad, grilled haloumi, and eggplant bake.

Khajiit

Moon sugar sweetens an otherwise painful affair when death is concerned in Elsweyr, and flavours are used to convey the unique characteristics of every Khajiit's life. Normally, a dish for every emotion is served: steamed bittergourd to represent bitterness, chilis to represent passion, and sour to represent surprise. Moon sugar, used ritually, reflects the Sands Behind the Stars. Loved ones carefully curate a flavour map of every life, making sure that their memory lingers on in every bite of moon sugar ever after.

Nords

In Skyrim, everyone wants to go to Sovngarde one day. When someone dies, we customarily eat what myths tell us of the food in Sovngarde (which I've seen with my own eyes and can personally attest to). Barrels of ale and mead are there to drown your sorrow, and there is an abundance of roasted meats, bread, entire cheese wheels, desserts, and much more. Different Holds also have different traditions; for example, Haafingar funerals always feature cinnamon donuts.

Orcs

Nobody puts the fun in funeral like the Orcs, which can sometimes be shocking to outsiders. Feasts are standard in clan strongholds, but feature a staple number of dishes. Fried polenta with glacier tomatoes, spit-roasted mammoth, game stew, cheese pasties, and all the bread you can eat are usually present, as well as any dishes favoured by the deceased. I once heard of a chieftain's son who loved taffy treats so much that he had an entire hill of them in the centre of the courtyard for his funeral.

Redguards

Funerals are a sombre affair for the Redguards, so food is not of huge importance. Usually, small snacks and canapés will be on offer, as well as wine and cold water. Like the Imperials, the normally flavourful local tastes are toned down out of respect for the dead. Mint yoghurt with pulled lamb on flatbread, falafel, and baked eggplant are some of the things you can expect.

[tempenensis]

Kugisaki Nobara : in my world

Among the first years, Nobara is the one that takes after Gojo the most in relation to his ego. Both of them are selfish, in a sense that they both do things their own way because of their respective believe. This is very different from Yuuji and Megumi whose motivation is to save people. 

Nobara becoming a jujutsushi is the same as Gojo; it’s because of their family. Nobara learns to be a jujutsushi from her grandmother and her motivation to continue learning jujutsu in Tokyo is not mainly because of passion to save people like the boys in her class, but rather it’s something that she do for herself, with her own way and her own principle.  

her origin

I thought all the human in that village is crazy. I thought I’m the only one sane. 

Nobara comes from a village in nowhere. The village still places a lot in their old custom and hold tightly onto their traditional value. So much that they refuse strongly to the point of hostility of anything new that stood out from their custom, for example Saori.

Saori comes from the city. While Fumi is an outsider too, she and her family seems to largely follow their custom and not blatantly stand out from the rest of the village, different from Saori. They accept what the village gives them and assimilates with them quietly. Saori however, does not only have large house different from the other, but also different food, in addition to how she speak. She speaks with different accent from the villager, which then taken by the still impressionable Nobara. 

Nobara hates the villagers “It’s because it’s a small village. It’s harder to be stranger than to make friends.” After a few years, when an old lady who lives nearby cooks red rice and gives it to me, I feel I understand what Nobara said about that makes her uncomfortable. 

Both girls who become friend with Nobara are considered outsiders in the village. And more than Fumi, Saori is the one who makes a deep impression to young Nobara. This maybe because Saori values privacy more, like city folks, unlike the villagers where Nobara lives. And that respect shapes Nobara a lot.

Of course this relate highly to her being a jujutsushi. Nobara was taught by her grandmother the art of jujutsu. The two of them shares the same technique, strawdoll curse technique, but it does not seem to a clan thing like Inumaki’s cursed speech.

In the first place, being a jujutsushi is a job that requires quite a lot secrecy, essentially working in the shadow is the norm. They takes a lot of effort in hiding what they are doing to suppress the fear of people, too, since in the first place, negative emotion is the main ingredients of curse. Nobara’s grandmother is also one, so she must’ve largely influenced how Nobara thinks. Being a jujutsushi alone in a small, nosy village can’t be easy. So both Nobara and her grandmother probably do not associate much with the rest of the village. And maybe because of their lack of awareness, it makes Nobara to think the rest of village to be “crazy”.

her individualism

Nobara is naive. She is naive, but very strong in her individualism. In a bit of extreme comparation, she’s kind of a frog in the well who has just getting out of its well to the wider world. And up until now, her individualism still has not fail her, that’s why she is still “Kugisaki Nobara”.

In one of elite jujutsushi bloodline, the Zen’in family, perfection is a must. “Possessing inherited curse technique of Zen’in family”. Other than that, they are failure in starting life as jutsushi. Even among them, women are not allowed to stand in the starting line.

Where the hell is the obligation to reply in “perfection” and “unreasonable”? Is your life is just a job?

Her reply to Momo who explain how jujutsu society works as she look down to Nobara in their exchange during the Goodwill arc is amazing. But while her response is strong and unyielding, it also put emphasize on how little she has idea on the custom of jujutsushi’s larger society. And it is something that is not guaranteed won’t bite her back later. 

But while that individualism reflects her naivety, it is also something that makes Nobara a amazing character. As she said above when she was a young girl living in the village that she hates, “being stranger here is more difficult than making friends”, Nobara characteristic is that she doesn’t like if too many people intruding in her life, especially if they don’t know her well. She will let some get closer, but more than that “special few” for her, she doesn’t allow anyone else. This is something that she said to be “the seat of her life”.

The seats of my life... something like that. I don’t want people who don’t sit there to disturbed my heart. Is that cold? Well, there’s also people like you who bring their own chair and sit there.

Nobara cares deeply for the people seated there, either who she gives “the privilege” to sit there like Maki, or like Itadori, intruding uninvited her life for the better. Her kindness is reserved to these special few that she deems important in her life.  

This individualism is also why she looks up to Maki a lot, because Maki also embodies the same individualism that empower her to walk in her path. 

her “death”

I thought everyone in that village is crazy. That is not the case, but...  Crazy people is loud, they care for everything but themselves. They trample on other people’s life in their shoes.

so it was not like that.

Right on the verge of death, Nobara reflects on her view of “craziness”. At the last moment, she contradicts on what she calls ‘crazy’; maybe it’s not villagers after all, maybe it’s her with all her jujutsushi friends. This is her growing and a development in her character, slowly losing her naivety.

This is what Principal Yaga underlines to Yuuji during his interview. A jujutsushi must be highly motivated and crazy. You can even see that some of the stronger jujutsushi has been remarked as crazy, like Gojo and Nanami. This is why her losing her stubborn view that she’s “alright in the head” is important for her to grow stronger both as a person, and more importantly as a jujutsushi.

If she is still alive, that is.

[dinsrose]

My Center of Happiness

Din Djarin X Female Reader One Shot

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Praise Kink, Soft Din, Swearing

Summary: Reader and Din stargaze together, and it basically just turns into pure porn. If soft smut, fluff, and praise kink are your thing, you have come to the right place. 

You can read the one shot here as well on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30192981

Here’s a song that reminds me of the fic

Here’s a song to listen to as you read the one-shot. It reminds me of Din and Rose in this particular scene.

The stars are perfect tonight. They twinkle and dance throughout the sky while shining brighter than you have ever seen them. There must be a meteor shower tonight as well, because you occasionally catch a glimpse of a falling star soaring through the atmosphere. These are your favorite nights. The nights where the galaxy is so quiet and kind. The clear skies make for the most beautiful scenery. One of your favorite things to do, is find the constellations in the sky.

Many people do not care for the stars, but you always have. When you were little, you used to look up at the sky and make countless wishes for a better life. The sky held so many opportunities in your mind. Your mother always told you that when you wished upon a falling star, the wish would always come true. You just could not tell anyone about the wish. Ever since she told you that, you spent almost every night wishing and talking to the sky. Wishing for a better life, a life where you and your family could be free. A life where you could fly away with your mother and father, living on the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. You always wondered what was out there.

Tatooine had been your home planet for your whole life, but you knew there were greater places out there. It used to drive you crazy, knowing that you would never get to leave that damn planet. You come from a family of slaves. It was a given that you would always be a slave, and never get out of the lifestyle. Especially considering you were the only one left of your family. You had convinced yourself that your life would always be the same. That you would never leave that sandy planet and be doomed to work every waking minute until you died off from exhaustion. Until one day, a bounty hunter came barreling into your owner's cantina to take him in. You never would have imagined this bounty hunter would turn your whole world upside down. This bounty hunter, Din, has given you everything you could ever want and need in this life.

When he offered to let you be a crewmate on his ship, and help take care of his adorable little green sidekick, you didn't even hesitate before shaking his hand in agreement. The past few months with them have been nothing short of amazing. The kid has grown to be as one of your own. You love him more than anything, and you couldn't imagine life without him. His father has become a huge part of your life as well. You are now part of a small, happy family; a clan of three.

The memories of the past few months cause you to smile as you lay back in the grass. Din had parked the Crest here on Naboo in a secluded area for the next few days. A few days to take a short break from everything for just a moment. After catching a glimpse of the sky, you had decided tonight would be the perfect night to stargaze. Din was asleep in the ship, along with the baby. The hatch had been left open anyways, because you wanted to get some fresh air. You had tiptoed down the hatch to a small spot in the grass about 20 feet from the ship. A spot that was perfect enough to lay down in and have a good view of the sky.

The cool breeze whipped all around you, causing the long blades of grass to slowly dance in the wind. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers. Everything here was just perfect. This was most definitely your favorite planet of them all. It had a special beauty about it, something just different from the others. The greenery here was unlike any other you had ever seen. The place was almost too perfect to be true. If Heaven was a place, you imagined this is what it would be like; on Naboo... in the flower fields... baby on your hip, and Din right beside you.

"What are you doing out here? And... why are you laying on the ground?" You hear his modulated voice ring out from behind you. Glancing up as far as you can, you see his figure come into view standing right above you. The moonlight reflects off his beskar as he towers above you. He just stands there in silence. There is just something about his silence that makes him so... sexy.

"Stargazing," you reply with a smile on your face. "I thought you were sleeping?"

"I was... and then I saw you were missing and got worried." He replies.

A grunt comes out from under his helmet as he starts to lower himself down towards you. He pushes his knees back and puts his palms on either side of your head, his helmet barely two inches away from your nose. He hovers there, the two of you facing opposite directions, and butterflies begin filling your stomach. You reach up slowly and place your hands on either side of his helmet. The beskar is cool to the touch as you pull his head down gently. You plant a gentle kiss right on the top of his helmet where his forehead would be. A smile spreads across your face as you pull back to look into the black visor.

"Join me, shiny." You say softly.

"How could I say no to that?" He says with a light chuckle.

He slowly rolls over to the side and onto his back. With your bodies facing opposite directions, he lines his head up right to the side of yours. If he did not have the helmet on, his ear would be the only part of him touching you; or maybe some soft, curly hair. You have never seen it, of course, but you have felt it a few times. He has removed it before while you were blindfolded, to gain access to your lips with his. And oh Maker, his lips were the softest lips you had ever kissed. His hair the fluffiest hair you had ever ran your fingers through. Thinking about it sent shivers through your core.

"What are we looking at here?" He asks. His voice sends vibrations through the helmet, and it tickles your ear.

"Well, for one, I am looking for constellations. I am also talking to my good friend Ada up there." You reply with a giggle. Ada was a name you and your mother had given to a star when you were younger. It was a silly joke to you now, but it still held very sentimental value to you.

"Ada?" He questions.

"Yes. My good friend Ada. My mother used to tell me that the stars were our very good friends, and that they would grant us wishes. So, naturally, as a child, I truly believed the stars could hear me." You giggled before continuing. "One night, I decided to name one of them, because if that star was going to grant me a wish, it had to be a special friend of mine. I shared my thoughts with my mother, and we both decided Ada was a good name." A small smile comes across your face as your voice begins to fade. "It's silly now, but something about it still holds sentimental value to me... so I talk to Ada to this day. Especially when I miss my mother." A frown replaces your smile as a wave of sadness washes over your body.

He goes quiet for a moment. All you can hear is the two of you breathing, and the wind whipping through the night air.

"So... the stars are special beings to us?" He finally asks.

"Yeah...something like that. My mother told me that they were their own individual being, just like us. That a specific star picked us to grant our wishes. That one star spent its whole existence, to make us happy. Basically, that star is a very special presence in our lives, and it is the sole center of our happiness. Everything good we receive in this life comes from that star. So, I think that makes them pretty special." You reply as you turn your head to the side to glance at him.

He lays there for another few minutes in silence. The moon reflects off his visor as he looks up into the sky. Looking over at him sends a warm feeling through you. Does he know that he is the center of your whole existence?

His finger suddenly points up to the sky. "You see that big star right there?" He says softly.

Following his finger, you can tell which one he is talking about almost immediately. It is much bigger than all the others. It has a pink tint to it as well. Somehow, it is much more beautiful than any other star up there. It dances in unison with the others as you watch it, waiting for him to continue.

"It shines brighter than the rest. It's prettier too... looks like a pink tint to it." He continues. "That's Rose... I am naming it Rose." His helmet turns to the side as he looks at your face. "If I have to name it something because it is the source of my happiness... it is going to be named appropriately."

Warmth floods throughout your entire body. "Rose" That is the nickname he had given to you about two weeks after the two of you had met. He had found out it was your middle name, and decided he really liked the sound of it, so that is the name he has called you ever since. Tears well up in your eyes at his sentiment. He just named a star after you, for the sole purpose of getting his point across that you are the source of his happiness. Nothing makes you happier than knowing that you make him as happy as he makes you. That has become your sole purpose in life, to make him happy.

"Din... " You whisper. Not really knowing what to say, you give him a small smile in hopes he understands the depth of your feelings for him.

His body shifts as he pulls himself around and lays down directly beside you. He props his elbow up on his neck so that he can face you on his side. He looks so perfect in the moonlight, even if you cannot see an inch of his skin.

"My sweet, Rose." He breathes out as he reaches up. His thumb starts grazing the side of your cheek as you close your eyes. His thumb trails every feature of your face as he lets it explore. Din has been really big on touch ever since the first time you let him touch you. After years of being deprived from the feeling himself, he can't get enough of it. You feel the leather graze gently across your eyelashes and down your nose before landing on your lips. He gently pushes his thumb inward as he trails it across your bottom lip.

"Keep your eyes closed." You hear him say.

A puzzled expression crosses your face, but you do as he says. His hand leaves the side of your face, leaving it feeling bare. He shuffles around a moment before you feel his soft hand reach back up, uncovered. He took his gloves off. His hand snakes around to the side of your head and holds it firmly at the base of your neck. Before you can ask what he is doing, a soft pair of lips lightly connect with yours. Maker, he had taken off his helmet.

The thought of it startles you slightly as you jolt back a little, careful not to open your eyes. He had never taken it off before without having you blindfolded in some way. Did he really trust you this much? Deciding that you do not care, you lean forward, wanting to taste him once again.

Electricity sparks throughout your entire body as your lips collide with his. A light moan escapes your lips as you taste the sweet flavor of his lips. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to grant him entry. His hands reach up and firmly grab both of your cheeks to steady your mouth right where he wants it. He can do anything he wants. You are in the palm of his hands and he doesn't even know it.

His body suddenly shifts, and he rolls on top of you. He straddles your hips with his legs, and places his elbows down on either side of your head. His lips never leave yours as he smoothly makes the transition. Your fingers reach up and tangle themselves in soft, wavy hair. The kiss suddenly becomes desperate, the both of you taking as much as you can from one another.

You let out a soft moan and pull back. "Din..." You whine.

"Tell me what you want." He replies.

His body freezes while waiting for your response. He hovers over you, keeping his eyes trained on you. Not that you can see it, you can just feel when his eyes are on you. It sends a shiver through your body. His weight shifts on top of you as he slowly drags one hand down your stomach. Warmth begins to flood your center as his hand reaches your thigh. He grips it firmly before asking again.

"Use your words, Rose. Tell me what you want." He repeats.

His demeanor makes you shudder, it drives you up a wall when he gets like this. Letting out a shaky breath, you try to speak.

"Yo- you," is all you manage to squeak out.

That is all it takes for him to act. His fingers start to slowly make their way up to your center, which is already soaking wet. His fingers come up to the top of your pants, and start to tug them down. He takes his other hand and wraps it around the base of your back, lifting you up to help ease off your pants. With one swift movement, he yanks them down to your ankles, taking your underwear with them.

His fingers instantly start making there way back up the inside of your leg. A gasp escapes your lips as the anticipation begins building in your stomach. Instead of landing his fingers right where you want them, he skips over your center and makes his way to the base of your shirt. You try not to whine out in disappointment.

He lifts your shirt up and over your head in one swift movement. His other hand is still holding your body off the ground. Your body is gently lowered back to the ground as he sits himself up. The only thing you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling through the air.

"You're so beautiful, Rose." You hear him breathe out. His breath hitches in his throat as he brings his hands down to rest on your chest. His finger starts to trace the outline of your breast until he reaches the peak of your nipple.

"My beautiful girl," he continues.

He leans down slowly, and presses his lips to the top of your breast. He begins kissing all over every inch of your chest as gently as he can. His lips leave an electrifying feeling on your skin everywhere they touch.

After a few seconds, he starts to trail his kisses upwards until he reaches the top of your neck. He starts sucking and biting the side of your neck as his hand slowly makes its way back down your stomach.

Your thighs are already soaked from what little he has already done. You can feel the wetness dripping down the back of your upper legs.

His fingers finally make light contact with your center, and it almost causes you to scream. Your back arches into his touch as he pushes down onto your clit. He begins to rub slow, small circles around with his thumb as he continues to suck on your neck. There will be bruises there. He loves to leave his mark on you.

"You know you always look so good when I mark you up." He growls into your ear.

Your moans begin to ring throughout the air as he speeds up the circular motion on your clit. The sensation is almost overwhelming. His lips come up to your ear as he lets out a grunt.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this, cyar'ika?" He growls.

A whimper escapes your lips in response. His thumb stops almost instantly when you don't answer his question. It almost makes you cry out.

"Din... please," you beg.

He slides his fingers through your folds and slowly pushes into your entrance. It almost makes your eyes pop open, so you squeeze them even tighter so as not to accidentally open them. His thick fingers fill you up and stretch you open. He curves them up slightly, an pushes them against that sweet spot deep in your center. As soon as he finds the right spot, he begins to glide his fingers slowly in and out, making sure to hit that spot each time he glides across.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you arch your back. The sensation is overwhelming. Instead of seeing the actual stars, you are now seeing stars from the back of your eyelids as the pressure begins building in your lower stomach. The sensations cause you to start writhing beneath him. His hand comes down hard on your stomach and pushes you into the ground; forcing you to stop moving.

"Relax, sweet thing, just relax." He says as he pushes you into the ground.

"Din, please... I need you closer." You whine out.

His fingers suddenly pull out of you, leaving you feeling empty. The pressure in your stomach is almost unbearable at this point. He begins to shuffle around, and you are about to ask what he is doing until you feel his hard cock rub up against your inner thigh.

Maker, he's hard as a rock. He wastes no time lining up and pushing into you. He's so fucking thick. A loud gasp escapes your lips, and your body shoots forward. As if he knows what it would do to you, his other hand clamps over your eyes as they begin to open.

"Fucking perfect," He growls out. He starts to move at a slow pace, stretching you out as he does. "Maker... you're so- so ti- tight." He grunts.

His chest comes down to meet with yours as he continues to fuck you at a slow pace. Hand still clamped over your eyes, he brings his lips down to yours and kisses you hard. You moan into his mouth as you open it to let his tongue gain entry. He pulls back and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth as he lets go. His hand slides away from your eyes.

"Keep being good for me," He breathes out as he begins stroking your hair. His cock is ripping you open, but doing it so gently it almost makes you want to cry. His lips begin to leave small kisses all over every inch of your face.

"You feel incredible." He breathes out after he leaves a kiss on on the top of your eyelid.

He suddenly puts his hand under the arch of your back, and lifts you up into a sitting position. His cock is still inside of you when he settles you down onto his lap. The both of you are facing each other in a sitting position. You moan as you wrap your arms around his neck to gain some balance.

"Now be good, and start moving." He instructs.

You slowly start to move your hips and bounce on top of him. His cock hits you so much deeper at this angle, you have to squeeze your eyes really tight to keep from accidentally opening them. His hands are everywhere. Stroking your sides, cupping your breasts, scratching down your back... just everywhere.

"There you go sweet thing, just like that." He growls into your ear.

Your hips begin to stutter as you feel the pressure in your lower abdomen building. Desperate for the taste of him, you pull back and put your lips onto his. He moans into your mouth as he pulls you in close and locks his arms around your back. He pulls back from your mouth and moves his head down to your chest. His lips lock around around one of your nipples and he starts sucking. You throw your head back, letting out a loud moan. The pressure is building... building... building...

"Cum for me," He grunts into your ear.

That is all it takes. Stars begin to streak the back of your eyelids as you reach your peak. You let out a loud moan as you continue to bounce on his cock and ride out your high. Your fingers and toes begin to tingle, and you clamp down around his cock as you start to shudder.

Your pace starts to fade until you finally stop. You lean your head over onto his shoulder and sit on his lap for a moment, trying to regain your breath. His cock still inside you, he grabs your back and swings you back, pushing you into the dirt.

Without any warning he slams himself as deep into you as he can go. A strangled whimper escapes your lips as your nails dig into his back. He starts railing into you as hard as he possibly can. It feels like he is ripping you open, but in a good way.

"Feel so fucking good." He growls as he hammers into you. He continues giving you sweet praises as he chases his own high.

"My perfect girl... so fucking perfect." He starts to gasp and stutter as he praises you.

His hips begin to falter, as he gets close to his own orgasm. He leans over and bites down hard onto your shoulder as he begins to let out a soft moan. You can feel him emptying himself into you as he pants and gasps for air, filling you up to the brim.

He brings his lips to yours, and gives you a long kiss as you grab his cheeks with your hands to hold him steady. When he finally breaks away, the both of you just sit there for a moment, panting and gasping for air. His cock is starting to soften inside of you, but he is so thick, it doesn't fall out.

"Are you okay?" He says softly as he strokes your hair back from your eyes.

"I'm more than okay." You breathe out as a smile breaks out on your face. Your hands make their way to his face and begin to caress his cheeks. The both of you sit there for a moment, just feeling each other. He begins to say something, then stutters.

"Hmm? What did you say?" You ask as you stroke his hair.

"Ni... kar'tayl gar... darasuum." He finally says. Having no clue what he is saying, you let out a giggle.

"Din... what does that mean?"  

"You'll know one day, my Rose." He replies. His body starts to roll off of you, and you can feel his cock slide out of you. It  leaves an empty feeling in the pit of your core. A soft material covers your body as he wraps something around you. His cape. He fastens it at the neck, and continues with the task at hand. A few moments pass as you lay there, eyes still shut, waiting for him to give you the okay. A warmth has settled in over your body, and all you want to do is stay right here in this moment. A hand sweeps under you and you screech out as he lifts you into the air and into his chest.

"Okay, you can look" He says.

As you open your eyes, you can see that he has put his helmet back on, and has your clothes draped over his shoulder. He begins packing you back towards the Crest, when he stops so suddenly you think something is wrong.

"I know you, Rose." He says softly.

"And I know you" you say as you lift your hands and place them on either side of his helmet.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Additional Owl House/ Gargoyles AU Info: OCs

Here we are with some more information regarding the AU, only this will time it will be focusing on the 3 OCs whose pics I posted a little while ago since I didn't think anyone wanted the bios jammed onto their pics.

Hope y'all think these are interesting. :)

-----Rhiannon Frostflame

Nicknames and Aliases: Rhyan or Rhya (Default nicknames) The Wyvern Witch, Ice Queen, The Best Healer on the Isles, Cruel and Fearless, Frozen Flame

Age: Roughly the same as Eda

Palisman: A Wyvern named Wisteria

Magic Specialty: Healing Magic, but is a master of Ice Magic and has created a unique spell of burning blue fire that inflicts awful frostbite and severe necrosis on anyone it comes into contact with...

Friends/Associates: Eda Clawthorne (Best friend and drinking buddy) Raine Whispers (A close friend who in spite of falling out of contact with, Rhiannon still holds them in high regards) Shaelyn Silverstone (Apprentice and Ward) Warden Wrath (Occasional Employer) Fiadh Stonespire (Grandmother figure/deceased)

Background: Rhiannon was born into one of the larger clans of the last name 'Stonespire' that still chose to follow the Gargoyle Way of communally raising their children and protecting their estate and other landholdings. They were also extremely prideful of their skilled members they contributed to the Construction Coven. From a young age, Rhiannon was considered strange due to her shunning of the clans expectations and rather developed an interest in becoming a member of the Healing Coven. Although in her youth she was particularly bad at anything involving healing, having turned several small animals inside out in her attempts to mend their injuries. Her lack of skill and stubborn pursuit of her dreams led her to be alienated from nearly all of the clan who began to treat her as an annoyance if not an embarrassment. The only individuals who showed her any affection were an older female Gargoyle named Fiadh, who Rhiannon viewed as her grandmother and Saoirse, the only rookery sister who cared about her and supported her goals.

Her fierce dedication to studying and mastering healing magics eventually paid off and she not only excelled, but grew to master every healing spell and even learned a myriad of techniques all aimed at helping others. Of course on the flip side of this, through her studies of how to heal she also learned how to inflict immense pain on others. Knowing to attack certain points where an opponent is weak in order to defeat them in a brawl, as it seemed to Rhiannon that most witches and demons had forgotten how to fight without using magic and thus a physical fight is something she can use to her advantage... And she got into fights A LOT.

When she finished her education and applied to the Healing Coven she found that she was denied membership due to her clan contacting the head of the Coven and warning him against letting her join due to her poor skills as a healer... As they had not paid attention to her enough to know of her improvement and eventual mastery of the art.

Denied her dream, humiliated by her so called clan and filled with an anger that could not be put into words, Rhiannon lost her temper and broke the jaw of the Coven Head and fled. Stating she was now going to live her life as a Wild Witch and never give a damn about anyone else ever again. She was promptly disowned by her clan, which was fine with her. She gave herself the last name of Frostflame after the spell she had created and has become synonymous with her very existence.

Personality: Rhiannon is a bit of a contradiction. At first she comes off as cold, calculating and selfish. She is extremely sarcastic and tends to believe that someone 'Can get away with anything, as long as they are useful to someone else.' Which is how she, as a Wild Witch, doesn't have a bounty on her head nor any warrents for her arrest. As she is a freelance healer whom people come to see when they either can't afford to go to the Healing Coven, or do not want there to be a record of the visit... But also members of both the Emperor's Coven and town guards bet on her in the underground fights and thus overlook that she is not in any coven... She is also not above blackmail and is currently holding a massive gambling debt over the head of Coven Head Darius. As further insurance to keep from being arrested or have the Covens forcing her to join.

However... If someone truly gets to know her, Rhiannon is a very devoted, kind hearted person who has been so burnt by the world she no longer desires to be a part of it. She has sympathy for those less fortunate than her and does genuinely wish to help the people who seek her out in need of help. She has an special soft spot in her heart for kids. Especially since in the depths of her ice cold heart she truly longs for a family. This is somewhat evident in how she took in Shaelyn and has done her best to watch out for the younger gargoyle. However her own bias's can be detrimental to the relationships she has... As she has repeatedly told Shaelyn to forget about finding out what happened to her family and missing memories. Arguing that if she forgot them there's probably a good reason for it. Which has led to a rift between her and her apprentice.

-----Shaelyn Silverstone

Nicknames and Aliases: Shae, (Default Nickname) Lyn-Lyn (From Luz)

Age: Roughly 15

Palisman: None at the moment

Magic Specialty: Is attending both the Plant track and the Oracle track in Hexside. As she has unusual visions... both while she is awake and in her sleep. These visions often warn of dark events yet to happen or strange unknown things from a past she cannot remember. While not being taught healing at Hexside, Shaelyn is receiving training in healing magics straight from her guardian Rhiannon. Due to the talent of her mentor, she doesn't believe she could learn more from the school in that subject. As for the plant track... She is in that to both hang out with her friend Willow but also to help with Rhiannons garden which tends to grow out of control more often than not. As well as helping maintain the health of the tree Rhiannon's house is currently sitting in...

Friends/Associates: Willow Park, Gus Porter and Luz Noceda (Best Friends) Rhiannon (Guardian)

Background: Little is known about Shaelyns past beyond her name. Try as she might the young Gargoyle cannot remember much of her life prior to her being found in the wrecked hull of a ship that was brought ashore by a bad storm. While she has 'Shadows of Memories' she cannot remember where exactly she was from or even the faces of her parents. Rhiannon found the girl when she was looking through the wreck and happened upon her buried underneath several heavy cargo boxes with a broken wing and a very bloody head wound. Rhiannon took her back to her home, deep in the woods and healed her. Upon realizing that the girl had no family and no memories and that she would be left in probably one of the orphanages on the Isles, Rhiannon took her in as her apprentice and Shae has been living with her for the last five years.

Although Shaelyn is in awe of her mentor and greatly admires and respects her, she often feels like a burden. Their relationship is not like that of a mother and daughter, but is probably closer to that of sisters. Or of an older sister attempting to be a mother to a younger sibling in the absence of any parents... Shae also has gone through several different means to try and find out what happened to her family... but her search has led to nothing but dead ends. It doesn't help that Rhiannon often tells her to let the subject of her family drop as she would not have forgotten them if they were close... And how she might not like what she finds if she ever does find anything.

Nonetheless, Rhiannon has done her best to take care of Shae and has enrolled her at Hexside, so she can learn other magics that Rhiannon cannot teach. It was here that Shaelyn came across the sight of Amity and Boscha bullying Willow... And using the other skills Rhyan has taught her, Shae started throwing punches and beat up both of the bullies and warned them to leave Willow alone lest they receive another beating... This was how she initially met Willow and later on Gus and the three formed a very close friendship. Some time later Luz would be introduced and Shae grows to be just as protective of her as she is of her other two friends.

Personality: Shaelyn is quite friendly and outgoing with her friends and is the first one to come to the defense of a kid that is getting bullied. Due to her training with Rhiannon she is actually pretty good at fighting physically... Unfortunately in earlier times this put Shae into direct conflict with Amity as she was often quite mean to Willow... Unaware of Amity's true nature, let alone the bullying she received from her family. Like her mentor, Shae can hold a grudge and has a long memory of people who wrong her and her friends... Only unlike Rhiannon she is more willing to give someone a second chance or allow them to make amends... This lets her and Amity to eventually become friends... Although she and Boscha will never get along and Shae will continue to administer black eyes whenever the other girl starts looking for a fight. But when it comes to complete strangers, Shaelyn can be very wary... As was evident when she and the others were looking at booths set up by the Covens for recruitment and she was approached by Hunter as the Golden Guard. Now Hunter, with his very lackluster social skills was attempting to just talk nicely and give Shae a few compliments... Unfortunately for him he came off as aloof and mocking her. This resulted in two punches to his helm and three into his ribs. The blows to the mask dented it so badly it became stuck and the blows to his ribs made it difficult to breathe... Resulting in him passing out and needing to be carried away by Steve.

Undoubtedly when she learns more about Hunter, she will be remorseful for kicking his ass.

-----Saoirse Fireglass

Nicknames: Saer (General Nickname) The Glass Maker, The Crystal Witch, Firebender and Wannabe-Matchmaker (From Rhiannon)

Age: Same as Rhiannon

Palisman: A unique serpent with four eyes and a golden moth shaped hood named Amaranth

Magic Specialty: Construction magic with the specialty of glassmaking and crystal working. She is also capable of using fire spells in a fight.

Friends/Associates: Rhiannon (Rookery sister and best friend) Eda Clawthorne (Friend) Lilith Clawthorne (Friend) Shaelyn (Niece-figure)

Background: Saoirse was born into the same clan and was even from the same clutch as Rhiannon, born with the family name of Stonespire. However unlike her Rookery sister, Saoirse was considered to be one of the most magically gifted gargoyles that had ever been born into the clan. She displayed immense talent in the construction track and was even able to master a very difficult branch of the track that dealt with glassmaking and crystal working. In spite of the heaps of praise and accolades she received amidst her family, she developed a close friendship with Rhyan and was always deeply off-put when she witnessed how she was ostracized by other members of their clan. Still upon completing her schooling she was quickly brought into the Construction Coven and was even taken under the wing of the Coven Head for a time.

But when Rhiannon was cast out from their clan, Saoirse was livid. One of the few times anyone could truly remember her getting angry. She was pretty much told by the clan leader that Rhiannon was a disgrace and that Saer was always special and brought a great deal of respect and admiration to their entire clan with her talent... so she needed to stop defending that lost soul and continue to move forward and possibly become the next Coven Head...

Saoirse formally cut ties with the clan right then and there.

She gave herself a new name and while still formally a member of the Construction Coven, she chose to renounce any Coven status she had an instead opened her own business. She did so with the blessing of the Coven Head, who remains her good friend to this day.

When it comes to her wayward Rookery sister, Saer deeply worries about Rhyan and would love to see her find a place in the world rather than trying to live outside it. Although she knows that the stubborn Wild Witch is unlikely to ever change her ways without reason...

Personality: Unlike Rhiannon, Saer is a bubbly, friendly and outgoing individual who always looks for the good in people... In fact she is probably one of the few people who believes there just might be some good inside the Emperor's heart. (When she voiced this Rhiannon laughed so hard she swallowed the cigarette she was smoking.) Due to this kind nature she has, Rhyan frequently worries about her being taken advantage of... Fortunately Saoirse also is quick witted and can pretty quickly tell if someone is trying to pull a fast one on her. She also has a weird gift for matchmaking, as she can just tell when two people are right for each other. It's something that Rhiannon frequently teases her about.

...Until she finds one stranger who seems to be just perfect for the Wild Witch...

[cienie-isengardu]

Luffy and Zoro, equality presented by Wano Arc...?

The feeling of equality between Luffy & Zoro has been sitting on my mind a lot lately, so I finally decided to write down my chaotic thoughts on that matter. 

First, to be precise: I’m not talking about power levels between Straw Hats because One Piece proved on many occasions that power alone is not a good measure how one character will fare in a fight or that beating X does not automatically guarantee beating Y. In Thriller Bark Perona took down Luffy, Sanji, Zoro and Franky without a problem, but lost to Usopp out of all people. At the same time, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji will always be the main fighters of Straw Hats no matter the gap of power between them. Everyone is powerful on their own, but they may fare better in different fighting settings. I personally tend to think that Luffy and Zoro are closer to each other in terms of power, raw strength and will, but this is not exactly the matter of equality I wish to talk about. What I wish to talk about is how the Wano arc set Luffy and Zoro apart from the rest of the crew in a more tangible (visual) way.

Even before Wano Arc, Luffy and Zoro were singled out by narrative on various occasions. The most memorable is: the first meeting with Shichibukai (and Mihawk acknowledging them both), taking a beating in Mock Town to Nami’s dismay and Bellamy Pirates’ amusement, earning the title of Supernova and with that becoming part of the Worst Generation, independently attacking Charlos/Tenryūbito (though sadly, Zoro was stopped by Bonney) or killing together a dragon on Punk Hazard. In all cases, Luffy and Zoro were set apart from the rest of the crew and even other pirates, sharing unspoken understanding of other actions and needs or becoming a part of something bigger and more dangerous. 

Luffy will always be the captain (leader) and as the main character, the hero saving the day at the end of the arc. At the same time, Zoro may never be officially called the vice captain by other crew members (which is fair, Straw Hats Pirates don’t care nor have any need for ranks) but narrative puts him as the protector of crew (i.e. Kuma), the leader in the absence of Luffy what consistently is marked by narrative boxes (i.e. “Zoro team”,”Zoro side”) and the layout of frames (Zoro taking the central position that normally belongs to Luffy) or even having some confrontation with the final boss (Arlong, Hody). Zoro is also treated like the voice of reason; even if his words are harsh and emotionless, he will speak what must be said for the Luffy and crew’s sake (Alabasta, Davy Back Fight Arc, Water 7, Enies Lobby, Zou). He is also the one that provides Luffy comfort and support in dire situations (Usopp leaving the crew). 

Luffy cares equally about his nakama, yet the narrative likes to single out Zoro as someone usually standing by him but also as someone taking Luffy’s position of captain very seriously. Further details adding to the feeling of equality set up by narrative include the visuality of their most notable scars (under left eye/left eye and middle of chest), the running joke of people mistaking Zoro for an actual captain of Straw Hats Pirates or acknowledging him as a dangerous “beast”, Luffy and Zoro’s very similar mindset and attitude towards fighting powerful enemies and all the parallels in which both captain and first mate* did the same things on various points in the manga or color spreads/covers (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x).

In general, the story established how despite their different nature of extrovert and introvert,  Luffy and Zoro are similar when it comes to the serious and trivial matters about whose I could talk for days. What is vital though, for years such treatment of Zoro created the feeling of equality between him and Luffy. Not in the power sense per se because narrative has never been objective about that, but how they progress from rookies to men getting closer and closer to fulfilling their dreams.

And now the Wano Arc seems to single them out in ever more visible ways.

For one, anime dropped the individual eye catchers for the whole crew, except for Luffy and Zoro. At the end of each, all Straw Hats are showed standing together:

In both cases, Zoro is on Luffy’s right and both carry similar looking katanas: Kitetsu II and Sandal Kitetsu III. The swords may have different colors, but their tsuba have the same patterns, which double the feeling of equality between those two. 

Manga provides similar moments, starting with chapter 912

and cover of volume 91 (which was used for Luffy’s eye catcher apparently) and inside illustration included in volume 92

Then from all the crew, only Luffy and Zoro were pretending to be ronin (the masterless samurai), seen in box info

while the rest Straw Hats played the role of ninja (Chopper), kunoichi (Nami), ghost (Brook), geisha (Robin), toad oil salesman (Usopp), carpenter (Franky) and soba cook (Sanji). Even Law, another Supernova and equal to Luffy, hid his identity pretending to be some sort of wandering monk. And thinking logically, Law would be better ronin because unlike Luffy, he knows how to use sword in fight. 

Another visually prominent detail - Zoro and Luffy are the only one Straw Hats who have kimonos with ornaments resembling the sun that may be a symbol of the coming dawn, foretold by Lady Toki. A dawn that will end Kaido and Orochi’s reign on Wano.

Luffy’s ornament is straight taken from the crest of the Kozuki clan (and resembling the symbol Alabasta Kingdom). I have much more to tell about Zoro’s design but that will need wait for another time. For now, though it looks much sharper is no less reminiscent of the same solar symbol. Adding to the sign their status of ronin and we may call Luffy and Zoro, figuratively speaking, the samurai bringing sun (hope, new era, peace) to a country plunged in darkness, most likely in nearest future fulfilling late Kozuki Oden’s desire to defeat Kaido and open Wano  to world.

Of course, all Straw Hats, Heart Pirates, Minks and people of Wano are working together to defeat Kaido but Luffy and Zoro were visually set apart from everyone from the beginning of the arc. There is also their personal, strong connection to Oden’s children: Momonosuke and Hiyori who both were very impressed and protected by Luffy (Momonsuke) and Zoro (Hiyori).

Another detail binding Luffy and Zoro more to Oden and setting them apart from the rest of characters are new things they have acquired through the course of the arc. Namely, the better understanding & advanced techniques of Busoshoku Haki (Luffy) and late Oden’s great sword Enma (Zoro). Both things are capable of hurting Kaido.

Usually, during the arc, Luffy gets separated from the crew for the longest part of the story. And indeed, he gets struck first in prison (where he managed to win over imprisoned there samurais) and now, during battle, is running to face Kaido escorted only by Jimbei and Sanji (who wandered away in chapter 997). Surprisingly, Zoro too was separated by quite a long period of time, in which he met and befriended Yasue, Hiyori and Toko before he rejoined the crew for the final battle. Luffy and Zoro are the Straw Hats that openly admit they want to face Kaido in fight.

Another detail setting them apart from the rest of the crew: interacting with (and in case of Zoro, beating down) other Supernovas. They met Hawkins at the beginning of arc and fought him (Sanji too, met Hawkins and Drake once in public baths but ran away, securing Nami, Robin and Shinobi well being), then Killer and Kid before and during battle, Apoo and Drake which whom they had small crash, but now Drake were working with Roronoa against Apoo. Ironically, Drake is a friend with Coby who is a friend of both Luffy and Zoro. Coby literally met those two before Nami debuted. Also, the Supernovas allied with Luffy are learning in hard way that dealing with Zoro is not less stressing that working with Luffy.

How the Wano arc will turn out will show the upcoming chapters, for now though, not only Straw Hat has a strong connection to people of this land. For one, there is Tama, that both Luffy and Zoro came to like very much and literally started wreaking havoc in enemy territory because of her. Twice. Then there is mentioned connection to Oden - symbolic samurais of dawn and carrying Momonosuke and Hiyori’s wish to defeat Kaido and save the country but also Zoro’s personal connection to Shimotsuki clan that was hinted time after time and briefly explained in SBS that may or may not play bigger role, especially since Shimotsuki clan support Kozuki family. Which only adds to the whole connection between Luffy and Zoro and (good) people of Wano.

I feel like Wano arc was set up to establish the equality of Luffy and Zoro, not in the power sense that so many fans love to argue about, but as the relationship between them. Not just as captain and (powerful) subordinate but more like partners, the way Roger and Rayleigh or Kid and Killer are seen. The manga put a lot effort in creating parallels and the visual similarity between those two characters to dismiss the potential hints of Luffy and Zoro slowly falling apart from the crew in the sense of the role they will play in this and maybe future arcs.

[faelune-home]

FFXIV Write 2021 #1: Foster

(a/n: I’m looking forward to spending this year’s FFXIV Write fleshing out Fhara a lot more, especially since I feel like I’ve gotten her a bit more in line with how I want to write her lately ^-^ The individual events I wrote last year still apply to her character, but from here on, I’m gonna be a bit more attentive with the writing and tying it into her overall character and backstory and relations with other characters.

This first piece is a backstory piece, using the meanings “to care for” or “to raise a child that’s not their own” from Foster, relating to the people Fhara knew most in her time growing up in her village.

None of the seeker names used here have a clan marker at the start, partly to denote the closeness Fhara would have for them...and partly me as the author cheating so I don’t have to worry about what seeker clans live on Thavnair :’D Seeker folk are spread out enough that I could probably choose any one and it’d fit, but I’d rather wait till we go to Thavnair and see what kinds of folk might live there first.

Word count: 1172)

~~~

The fleeing remnants of her birth village were graciously taken in by a small seeker village in Thavnair, nestled in the rainforests. Originally only offering temporary aid until the Ilsabardian folk could regain their strength and recover from their ordeal, the two tribes quickly built a rapport together, and the arrangement grew into a permanent home for the dispersed keeper families.

It was the life she grew up in; primarily a hunter village with trading connections to other towns, and more distant connections with the larger city of Radz-at-Han further away. Many of the people Fhara knew there would come to be like family to her, especially when she had so little family as it was.

Fhara never knew her parents. Her aunt, Khona, became her caretaker in their absence.

Khona gave her niece love. She gave Fhara comfort and warmth, protection from the shadows that frightened the girl, and laughter to lighten her spirits through thunderstorms, and bandages and kisses to make Fhara’s scrapes and bruises ache no more. Khona gave her a nickname, cute and small much like the girl herself when she was young, one that Fhara carried with her throughout her life.

“Your mother would call you her little Fufu, even when you were only a scant few hours old.”

Her aunt gave her memories and tales of a mother Fhara would never know. Aching confessions that she was always so much like the woman, from her image to her mannerisms. Fhara’s desire to run around helping 5 people at the same time until she stumbled and got lost in the rush, or the way her ears flattened against her head when she was in trouble alongside a little guilty pout - “You remind me so much of your mother.” 

Fhara was never certain how she felt about those stories, having minimal connection to the woman in her aunt’s recollections. She let her aunt have those reminiscent moments, more for Khona’s own sake to remember a lost sister than Fhara’s desire to know of her mother. There were rarely any tales of her father, other than that her mother thought fondly of the man, a rare fifth son to his family - “She would call him her darling Sae.”

Then there was Leytai, the woman that acted as a wet nurse to Fhara when the keepers first arrived, providing for the newborn where her aunt couldn’t, having had her own child only a few scant weeks beforehand. Even into Fhara’s toddler and childhood years, Leytai was someone Fhara considered a mother figure other than her own aunt, always gladly taking the energetic child into her own home and caring for her whenever Khona was busy. 

Gifts of flower hair clips and cute dresses, and later her more practical training gear for hunting practices were common from the woman. Leytai was a mentor to Fhara, teaching her basic stitching skills and organisation habits, helping her to make her first quiver, and then later teaching her how to write alongside Leytai’s own son.

(Attempts at cooking lessons were put on hold after a fire almost broke out, an overenthusiastic Fhara terrified away after the ordeal.)

Khuba was the finest hunter in the village, an often not misplaced pride evident in his swagger and his smirk whenever he walked through the village. He had a tendency to tease any of the young ones that he taught, and Fhara in her eagerness to work hard and learn was often at his mercy. Yet beneath the playfulness was a serious yet kindly tutor. Familiar with the forests and their creatures, as his many smaller scars across his arms and knicks in his ears would attest, he would never leave the children he trained to hunt without his supervision. A good catch would get a reward from him. A good attempt would also get a reward. Perhaps he was getting soft in his older age, the other hunters would joke.

Fhara received bows with delicate carving along the wood, and fine leather boots always stained to match whatever armour she best favoured that season. Much of her skill and care for hunting came from the man, as well as the capability to safely navigate the humid forests. He was the closest thing she could consider to a father figure in her life.

The keeper elders kept to their own part of the village, yet they would always share tales and traditions from their years when asked, despite their feigned insistence that they would prefer solitude. Grouchy old cats that complained of the heat and the toughness of the local meat, that never quite took to the spices of the island cuisine. Yet there was always a softness behind their bite to all the children in the village that would ask of stories long gone. They weren’t quite like grandparents, but they were the closest thing Fhara could consider to such a thing.

The other children her age were harder for Fhara to relate to, both the keeper children that arrived alongside her as babes and the seekers that she came to grow up alongside. Fhara’s enthusiasm to aid around the village brought her cold shoulders and petulant glares from her peers. She didn’t have many friends.

Instead, whenever Fhara wasn’t preoccupied with her bow training or helping another villager with an errand, she would care for the younger children. Fhara felt like an older sister to the young ones, always surrounded in her free moments by the litter of young ones. She would try to pass on the same lessons she was taught in turn or keep them entertained. They would play hide and seek in the morning, then tag after lunch, until a frustrated adult would chastise them for getting under foot. So to wind down, they would gather in a corner and Fhara would regale them with stories. 

Tales of heroes and adventurers travelling the world over, aiding strangers with whatever ailed them. Noble knights, daring swashbucklers, and honourable mercenaries, any old fable or legend she had heard of or that she could dream up on her own, re-enacted for the children’s entertainment. Even when the night fell and the moon was high, the young children would beg for another story, beg their parents to let them stay for one more bell, so entranced were they by the stories. Eager to please them, she promised them more stories, stories of her own making someday.

Fhara was a full grown woman when she left to make good on that promise. No longer a child, yet shaped by the people that guided her in her life to that point. Her kindness, her prowess, her joy and playfulness, forged by her time growing up in the village.

The day she left the village for her own adventures, she was waved off by most everyone in the village. Those she would consider family, that raised her and cared for her. She was their child, their sister, their loved one. She would return someday, with more stories to regale.

[eleanor-devil]

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.6 - Storm Clouds

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05​​

Prologue | Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 - You’re here

Naruto's eyes widened in shock at the boy's words. "What...? Wait, Mitsuki, you don't have to leave..." "I... do. I don't want to cause any more troubles..." "Troubles?" the older cut in, unbelievable. "You haven't caused any troubles!" The Hokage stood up and walked towards the boy, putting his hands on his shoulders. "You are not at fault, I am. I should have found a way to avoid what you've been going through..." "Please, Lord Seventh... I know you're doing so much already. And... this is not about how people treat me, really." Mitsuki remained silent for a minute. "Then please, tell me what's troubling you." Naruto immediately answered, because he had no intentions of giving up on this boy. "But please don't leave, it won't do any good to those who care about you." "That's my point." the boy stated, his gaze on the floor. "I let Boruto and Sarada get involved in this... Boruto even got hurt for me... I... I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me. Either physically, or..." he slowly raised his hand to tap two fingers against his chest. "Here." "Mitsuki..." the Hokage sighed, how was he supposed to convince this boy to not leave? "You are part of this village, no matter what your connections are, and you deserve to be protected too." For some reason, the Hokage's words lifted that last bit of weight from his heart, that one thing that made him doubt his action, and the boy actually gave a small smile. "You know," he mused, meeting the blue eyes, "that's what I always liked about your speeches. That the whole village is your family... It has been like that for me, too. I never thought less, and slowly, in the year I spent in Konoha, the people became my family too."

The Hokage smiled slightly, had he convinced Mitsuki to not leave Konoha at all? That made him sigh of relief. "And... that's exactly why I have to go." Mitsuki said and took a step back, freeing himself from the Hokage's grasp. "My presence... nowadays seem to cause nothing but restlessness to my family. A restlessness that is possibly on its way to affect you, too." His smile vanished as soon as it appeared, and Naruto felt himself frowning slightly. "I believe that's my concern, rather than yours." At these words, the blue haired boy couldn't help but give a soft smile while he tilted his head to a side. "But Lord Seventh... I consider you family, too." Naruto didn't know what to say to that as the child's words touched his heart. "Mitsuki..." Just then, there was a knock on the door. Naruto found himself somehow glad to have this interruption. “Come in.” And in walked his advisor, with a - God help him - cat carrier under his arm. “Well… I’m sorry Mitsuki. He just doesn’t seem like he wants to stay away from you.” There was a soft, knowing tone in his voice that told Naruto he had been listening. The boy sighed yet again, honestly, was he expecting anything else? “Thank you.” he said, taking the carrier from the man’s hands. Just when Shikamaru was about to leave though, Mitsuki’s voice stopped him. “Umm, Shikamaru-san?” The man turned back to look at him. “Yes?” Mitsuki took a folded paper out of his sleeve and held it out to the man. “Can you please give this to Shikadai?” Shikamaru was visibly hesitant to take the piece of paper, but after exchanging glances with Naruto, he took it with a sigh. “You know as well as I do that Shikadai prefers a direct approach.” “I do.” The boy’s smile was soft but only a little bitter. “Please… tell him I’m sorry… And to Boruto and Sarada too… But that’s for the best. And maybe… as we pursue our individual dreams… we can meet again one day.” Mikazuki meowed as if he had something to say too. “Lord Seventh, it might be too much to ask but… I can’t take Mikazuki with me back to the hideout… And I only trust Boruto and Hima-chan to take care of him…” Naruto sighed yet again, this was turning out to be one of the hardest nights for him ever since he became Hokage… “I’m sure we can arrange that. But… even when I can’t force you to stay, please know that it’s not my wish to let the matter go like this. Boruto… he’s not gonna like this, he might want to come after you.” “I know he would.” the boy said, his eyes cast downward. “But if I want to follow my dream… this is the only way. Please make sure my friends see that too.” He looked back up at the Hokage, his soft expression now supported with a determined one. “Please let me protect my family.” Taking off his forehead protector, he left it on the desk. This time, it was Shikamaru’s turn to sigh. “Well… I guess then all we can do is to wish you good luck with whatever your dream is… I hope you can achieve it.” “Thank you…” And with that, the boy started walking to the door. “Mitsuki…” Naruto once again called after him, his tone sad. “No matter what… don’t forget that you will always be welcomed back.” A small, half-smile made its way to the boy’s lips. “Thank you Lord Seventh… for everything you did.” Then, just like that, he was gone… Naruto sighed and closed his eyes as he heard the door click close. … Mitsuki was trying his best to keep his thoughts at bay as he made his way out of the building, then turned and looked back at it once more. 'That's the only way...' a small voice in his head repeated. He didn't know how to counter that. He sighed and made his way to the tree under which he had left his belongings. ... Naruto had his face in his palm, deep in thought. He had failed... He had failed in his dream to make a better leader, to make a much better world in which only peace and love reigned... What kind of a leader was he...? He looked at the portraits of the previous Hokage one by one, his eyes lingering the longest on his father. He had always striven to be the best out of the best... But now he couldn’t help but wonder if any of the previous six had fallen as far away from their dreams as he had. "Don't be too hard on yourself. Sometimes, there is just no way of stopping these…” Shikamaru said, sighing. “People were just used to the peace so much... they react violently when there is a threat." "But putting the blame on a child?" the blond asked sadly. "To the point of making him leave?" "Well, at least we can do something about that." They hadn’t heard him entering, but Naruto could hardly begrudge Kakashi for not knocking now - he probably didn’t even hear it. "I have sent Konohamaru to investigate those harassments..." he said wearily, it seemed so long ago. "I have something better. A first-eye-witness account on who has been troubling the child." Both men were quick to react to that. "How? Tell us everything!" Shikamaru said. "When he was on his way here... he was attacked. I was nearby..." "Damn it..." the blond growled through gritted teeth. This was not going to go unpunished if that was the last thing he did. "Who?" "A pretty crowded group, actually. About fifteen kids, ranging between ten to sixteen years of age." "Do you know any of them?" "Most of the older children, yes. Naruto, they were from almost all of the clans. The ring leader was from Sarutobi, of course... There were also from the Yamanaka, the Akimichi... There was even a little Hyuga kid." That was about the farthest he was going to listen. "We are going to call for a meeting right now. Maybe it's not too late to change that child's mind..." Although, with an uneasy pang, he realized once again that he didn't really believe in Mitsuki's words about leaving tomorrow. "I'll talk to Boruto and Sarada about this first, though. They need to know." "In an hour?" "Yeah, that will do. And Shikamaru… can you please contact Boruto and Sarada and tell them to come here?” “Roger that.” As they walked out, Naruto took out his cell phone and dialed a number. When it was answered, he didn’t wait for the other side to speak. “Konohamaru… I need you to come to my office now. Yeah, it’s urgent.” … Mitsuki's pale golden eyes were following the guards at the border closely. Any time now... He didn't want anyone to learn that he was indeed leaving that very night instead of the morning, hence why he was trying to sneak out at the time of the shift change. Thankfully he had good ears, so he knew exactly when the shifts changed - and how the border doesn't have much surveillance during that. As he expected, at exactly 10.57 pm, one of the six guards there yawned, looked at his comrades and called the duty off. He couldn't take a lot of time. It was true that the procedures took a little time, but... He had to act quickly. When he made sure no one was glancing back, he jumped on the nearest tree to the gate and quickly sneaked out without a sound. It wasn't until he got a little away that he stopped. He pulled a traveling cloak out of the backpack, silently pulled it over himself. For one last time, he looked at the entrance of the village, once a welcoming and loving place, and now... He gulped, trying to remember the place only with the good memories, trying to block out the last few days... to not remember Konoha as the dark, cold, intimidating place it suddenly became... "Goodbye, Konoha..." he all but whispered, pulling his hoodie up. ... And that was how, about fifteen minutes later, team Konohamaru had gathered in front of Naruto - minus Mitsuki, of course. The kids especially looked anxious, it wasn’t every day that the Hokage called them in at such a late hour. “Dad, what is it? Is everything alright?” Boruto asked before he even stepped in. Naruto sighed, finally tearing his gaze away from the headband in front of him. “Come in and close the door behind you.” Konohamaru was indeed eyeing the headband, as Naruto knew that he would notice right away, a slight frown in his features. “Lord Seventh…” The Hokage sighed once again as he got up on his feet and walked to the front of his desk. “I need to talk to you about Mitsuki.” “What about him?” Sarada asked immediately, concern apparent in her onyx eyes. “Did those jerks do something to him?!” “No… he didn’t mention anything, anyway.” “He didn’t…” Boruto perked up as it dawned on him. “So he was here?!” Naruto just looked sadly at his son, not sure how to deliver the news. “So this means you can punish those guys finally! It means-” “Boruto…” Konohamaru cut in, but his eyes were fixed on the Hokage. “He… Mitsuki left… didn’t he?” Sarada had begun to catch up to what they were implying, there was an almost desperate expression on her face, wishing with all her heart that this wasn’t true. Boruto, on the other hand, was still lost. “Well- duh, he’s obviously not here…” “Boruto…” and it was then that Naruto was finally able to meet his son’s eyes, while he brought forth the headband he was holding. “He left the village… He came here to say goodbye.” There was a moment of complete silence following his declaration. Then wordlessly, almost soundlessly, the blond moved forward and took the headband gingerly in his hand, as if afraid that it would suddenly explode. "What..." he gulped as he had trouble recognizing his own voice. "What kind of joke is this, 'ttebasa...?" "He said he didn't want anyone else to get hurt because of him." said his dad sadly. "M... my cut...? Seriously...?" The blond felt his voice rising then. "That idiot left because of a damn cut?!" No one could say anything to that. Boruto gripped the headband tightly, so much so that his fingers hurt. Another minute passed in silence. Then he snapped back to the moment and stormed to the door. "Where are you going?!" he heard Sarada call from behind him. "To that idiot's house! I can't let it end like this!" … He had to take a break. There was a clean river flowing just out of Konoha, perfect for drinking water. It was also at the end of this river that he was going to meet his father. He set his things down, took a canteen out of his backpack and knelled... "Hurry up, will ya? Or we're not gonna make it to their curfew." "Who died and made you leader? Know your place." Mitsuki didn't know why, but he knew better than to question when his instincts told him to hide. He grabbed his belongings quickly and jumped back behind a rock, kneeling, as footsteps came closer. "Yeah, don't go act all bossy around us. Who called you for this mission? Who will get you paid in the end?" "Takeru..." he heard a gruff voice cut in. "And why did you call for us, vermin? As far as I remember, you have no guts to go up against the whole village - let alone the Hokage." Mitsuki tried not to gasp out loud, and actually had to press his hand over his mouth. Whoever was talking... they were... going to attack Konoha? "Ha!" a voice inside his head suddenly shouted, and the boy flinched a little. "Everyone gets what they deserve in the end!" What...? Was this... really... his own way of thinking...? "You were called an outsider, a freak... Show them what they are without you." Mitsuki's hands balled into fists. Why... was he thinking such things at a moment like this...? Konoha... had been a home for him for over a year. He was welcomed... "Were you, now? What about those past three days, then? What - you are gonna forgive them so easily?" The child closed his eyes for a second, that wasn't exactly wrong... If he was to be honest, he indeed felt resentful against those who kept picking up on him for no apparent reason - just because of who his father was... Why should he do anything? Did he owe them anything...? 'You are part of this village, and you deserve to be protected, too.' His eyes snapped back open as he heard the Hokage's strong and clear voice, as if he was standing there, right next to him. Those ninjas were after him, the one person who truly accepted him without any questions or hesitations, the person who truly believed in him... "The Hokage can perfectly save his own hide..." the voice spat out maliciously. "Don't bother!" But... was he the only person...? He thought about Boruto and Sarada, his teammates and best friends... no, his true second family, really... His other friends from the academy... They all acted together today against those who tried to attack him. The kids from the grade school... Aito... and so many other people... 'Mitsu-nii?' he heard a cheerful voice, brought by the wind itself and his hands tightened even more as Himawari's smiling face came into his point of view... How many innocent people would those ninjas hurt before they even got to Lord Seventh? Who knew what they were capable of? "That's my point, you moron! You don't know what they could do - do you even know how many there are?" Judging by their talk, at least three... "And if they're gonna aim for the Hokage, they wouldn't be ordinary ninjas! What do you think you - a simple genin - can do?" But the border was... pretty much at its weakest point right now… And it wasn’t like he was any simple genin... If he could only buy the guards some time... "Stop that! Do you have a death wish?" He wouldn't have to do much. Just a simple diversion... Surely, even if he didn't manage to lead them to the border himself - spoiling their surprise attack - someone would hear him and come to his help? They were so close... "I can see how this could go from bad to worse in at least a hundred ways. You still have time, turn your back and get away!" He heard the footsteps slowing down. "Now would be a good time to start," one of the nins said. "You were not raised to be a pushover... Show Konoha exactly how much they need you!" the voice whispered in his head. A determined expression crossed the boy's eyes... ... This... had to be a joke. A bad tasted, malevolent prank those idiotic villagers had pulled off. The house was empty. He and Sarada had looked from room to room even though the apartment was quite small - Boruto had even gone so far as to check the wardrobe and other tiny spaces his friend couldn't possibly fit in (logically speaking anyway), because he couldn't believe, he couldn't grasp. Mitsuki... was really, truly gone... "That idiot..." he whispered in a hollow tone, looking around at the dark house. "Boruto!" he heard the Uchiha call from the bedroom and hurried over. Sarada was holding a letter in her hands, shaking a little. The blond was quick to understand that she had read it over. When he came nearer, the girl handed the piece of paper without another word. "Dear Boruto and Sarada, Before I say anything else... Please forgive me for leaving you like this, without a word. But... I know you would try to stop me if I told you anything. I'm leaving the village to pursue my own goal in life. Don't get mad at anyone for what I chose. I think this suits me more in a way, to be a traveling medic who helps those in need wherever and whenever the need arises. I've thought a lot about it. I know someone who can provide me the necessary education. Please, don't come looking for me. Live your lives. Live your dreams... Sarada-chan, I believe you are going to become a very good Hokage when the time is right. Don’t take my goofs too much to your heart. Let your potential shine - you have more than enough. Boruto... you told her that you will be right beside her when she achieves her dream. Support and protect her for the both of us - not that she will need protection, not really. Thank you for everything. I hope that, no matter how far our choices drift us apart, we will see each other once again in the future, even if to just look back at our past, smiling. Best of luck, love you both... Mitsuki." Boruto just stared at the letter for a minute, his mind and thoughts coming to a standstill. He wasn't aware that Sarada had approached him. In the total silence that surrounded them, they read it once again, in the hope that they might have misread a word, might rephrase some of them, so suddenly, it would mean a whole another thing. And again. And again... once more until they memorized each word by heart. "I can't believe he did this..." the girl mumbled, her voice shaky as tears brimmed her ebony eyes. The blond slowly lowered the letter, his hand balling slowly into a fist... Then he banged it against the wall, making Sarada jump a little. "I'm going after him!" he said through gritted teeth. "That baka can't just leave like this!" "Boruto..." "I know what you're going to say! We should respect his wish, dad probably won't let us, either, and I know you always do things right, but I don't care!" "Boruto..." "He is our friend and he is like a brother to me, you don't have to come with me but I'm going!" "UZUMAKI BORUTO!" Sarada finally yelled. "What?!" the blond snapped right back. "Are you going to stay here and rant all night or are you coming with me?" … Naruto and Konohamaru were waiting outside. It had been quite a while since the two children went in, but they didn't want to interrupt. A slight rustling sound got their attention - a sound no big creature can make, but a small one. "What is that?" Boruto and Sarada came out of the house, adorning serious expressions. “Dad! We are going after Mitsuki, and-” “Hush!” Konohamaru warned them urgently, and only then did the children hear the rustle too - accompanied by a low hiss. The girl’s eyes widened slightly hearing that. “Is that-?” Her words were cut short as a small white snake appeared out of the bushes, coming to a stop right in front of the Hokage. “That’s Mitsuki’s snake!” Boruto exclaimed, although he wasn’t sure what to make out of this sudden development. He didn’t need to though, because fixing its gaze on his dad, the snake began to speak in his best friend’s voice. “Lord Seventh. Rogue ninjas. Attack. Eastern Border.” A chilled silence fell over the group for a nanosecond. Naruto and Konohamaru were naturally the first ones to snap out of it. “Should we mobilize troops?” the jounin was already ready for action, and although he was successful in hiding the brunt of his anxiety on the outside, there was a slight edge in his voice - they couldn’t be fast enough for his liking. “No - there’s no time. We will go.” Naruto was equally restless. Then he turned to the pre-teens, who were watching them with huge eyes. “Now, you two will stay here-” “No way!” Boruto cut in, terrified and incredulous at how his father should suggest that. “I won’t just sit around while my best friend is in danger!” “We don’t know the details of the situation, I can’t risk you too…” In response, Boruto just held out his arm and the snake obediently curled up on it, its golden eyes on the blond now. “It will lead us to Mitsuki, and it knows how to respond to me.” the young boy said, almost in a defiant tone, while the snake hissed quietly as if to back him up. “Lord Seventh please, you have to let us come…!” Sarada joined in, her tone almost desperate. Naruto didn’t like this option at all, but this argument wasn’t getting them anywhere and they were losing precious time. After a nod from him, Konohamaru turned to his students with a stern gaze. “You are to listen to my every command, and not act on your own, no matter what you see or hear. Am I clear?” The two friends just nodded solemnly, grasping very well the gravity of the situation. “Now follow us quickly.” … 'Which way could the child have gone?' 'He... Wouldn't try to fight a group of rogue nins... Right...?' 'No, no, no, he's a clever kid, he knows better... Damn don't lose focus, he must've sent the note just as a warning, of course he needed to record it in a hurry...' His thoughts jumbled together in a mess while running as fast as he can to the border, ahead of the others. He slowed down a little as he came to the border guards, surely someone would have seen Mitsuki leaving? He never thought he would see a familiar old face there, though. "Kiba?" he asked in surprise. The Inuzuka raised his head as soon as he heard the Hokage's voice not too far from him. "Lord Seventh," he said, of course he had to call him by the formal title, no matter how good friends they are. He spotted his son and his teammates. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" "We received a stress message... from Mitsuki. He said there was an attack..." Naruto explained quickly, and his slight panic made everyone look alert. "Did any of you see the child leaving? Where he could have gone?" He directed these questions to the border guards. "We need to find him quickly..." But the guards shook their heads. "No, Lord Hokage, we did not see anyone pass by." They were being honest, Naruto could see it, none of them were hiding anything. "Mitsuki?" Kiba murmured before looking back outside the gates. "It can't be..." "What is it, Kiba?" Naruto asked immediately. Kiba bit his lip, he could not say this loud, not in front of the kids... He approached the Hokage and Konohamaru. "Back in our mission... the dogs smelled blood, and so did we..." And just like that, Naruto felt his blood running cold as his fears returned to him in full force. "W... what do you mean? What blood, whose blood? Where was it coming from?" "I just rushed here to check myself - it's not too far from here, by the river near that clearing... But Naruto... It doesn't smell good..." "Dad?" Boruto suddenly appeared behind the hokage's elbow, worry and impatience apparent on his face. "Why aren't we leaving already?" Naruto turned around to face his son and tried to hide the fear on his face, he couldn't tell him simply what was going on in his mind… But before the Hokage could even open his mouth, there was a noise... Loud voices, it seemed, they couldn't really tell, not too far... The Hokage immediately turned towards the gates but there was no one there. Kiba shushed the guards' whispers as he too turned to face the forest ahead of Konoha. "You are not a weakling, are you? Bring me the boy's head." "You bastard! I'm not gonna do that to a child!" The phrases were enough to chill everyone to immobility. "What the hell...?" Konohamaru growled, his eyes going wide. 'God, no...' Naruto thought as he almost automatically sprung out of his shock, just out of the sheer need to save the kid, knowing that they were counting on seconds, maybe nano-seconds. Seeing his dad in action forced Boruto out of his shock, too, and the two children quickly sprung after the hokage. Naruto glanced back at Kiba for a second. "Kiba - go to the hospital, alert Sakura!" 'Dammit... Please make it in time...!' Konohamaru thought fervently, his teeth gritted.        

[mythvoiced]

🙌 aM I SENDING MORE THAN ONE? U BET, I WANNA KNOW MORE--

@theimpalpable | Send a 🙌 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse.

LET ME DIE FOR YOU

---

The di Feolas are a rather small vampire clan residing in South Italy, specifically in Salerno. They don’t hold power in numbers, but in presence, be it for what they’ve done to ensure the preservation of vampires in their area, or simply the fact that the matriarch of the core of the family is Caterina Conti. Her name was whispered reverently amongst vampires who had never even met her, but received the terror bound to her name passed on by their elders, their sires, long before she had married Luigi di Feola.

And with him, she had four sons.

One is Domenico, whom you can find as a regular muse on this blog, the youngest of the bunch, the people-pleaser, the one that earns the most ‘what am I going to do with you’.

The oldest is Alessandro.

Alessandro di Feola was born long before Vincenzo, the second oldest, and has been taught from a young age just how important the grand scheme of things is and how his own existence is meant to serve this scheme and not deviate in ways that would endanger the family name, its reputation. It’s not so much pride but rather strategy that had led Caterina in her parenting of Alessandro, but what he had inherited, rather than the wits Vincenzo would be known for, was a deeply misplaced sense of pride and duty.

Nothing outside of the norm had space to exist within what he considered said duty, the four brothers exist to fulfil something, and not to chase after individual whims and desires. Everyone has a predesigned role to fill, and his just happens to be that of heir, that of the oldest, that of the one granted the power, or perhaps had it forced upon him, to demand his brothers act according to etiquette, to the image they have to uphold, so they may continue to have the name they now have. Life is business, in a way, but without money, and plenty of blood. Life is strategy, and every word should be chosen with care. Life is only life if you are unmoveable, unpenetrable, no slip-ups allowed.

He’s followed by the second oldest, Vincenzo, whom you could easily consider the direct opposite of Ale.

He grew up initially wanting to please the unspoken demands of his mother and the very vocal ones of his brother, but once he realised that nothing would ever come out of it, that his mother took his effort for granted, for something he shouldn’t be praised for, and Ale waited for him to fulfil a demand solely because he had another one waiting for him, he decided it just wasn’t for him.

He would gain nothing, no praise, no gratitude, no appreciation or even acknowledgement. And he wasn’t someone willing to allow himself to be in any sort of pain because of that, not to mention that blood relations don’t mean much in the vampire world, and you’re truly only expected to like the company of those you actually like the company of. He quickly moved on and found other things to focus on. He’s the most distant out of the four brothers, often away, usually in a completely different continent. When he visits it’s just to stay in the house a while and meet up with people he used to know (his family), check up on them with a sort of casual curiosity that wouldn’t imply sentimentality. He would consider himself closest to Carmine, the other of the four brothers who sees the family for what it is, but even between them, the relationship is very friendly and casual like it would be between friends who see each other every now and then.

He’s infinitely smarter than Alessandro for the sole reason that he possesses self-awareness Ale refuses to engage in, this, plus the fact that he’s known Ale the longest, allows him to often guess where Ale is headed with a decision - and its consequences - before it happens. He usually leaves before he can see it.

Third in line, Carmine. 

Carmine is perhaps not as physically distant as Vincenzo is, for he spends as much time in the house as his parents and Ale, but you certainly won’t find him actively participating in family conversations. He’ll attend “dinner” and ask Domenico about his day, but should even the slightest hint of conflict arise, or Ale starts a discussion he simply has no interest in, he’ll simply stop partaking. He’s inherited a lot from his father, his silent demeanour and unbiased disposition that he always puts to the table.

He likes the people around him, he’d even go as far as saying that he’s fond of them, and he won’t mind picking up the pieces of Ale or Nico, whenever they talk themselves into a nervous breakdown or a sticky situation, respectively, but he isn’t willing to let them do the same for him. He’s independent, especially emotionally, and actively dislikes the idea of involving the others in his well-being. He’s a giver, he likes taking care of things, and playing a clear part, but he does not enjoy being made a leader or being offered the type of support he tends to offer.

His understanding of their position and their individual personalities, his ability to navigate perfectly within any and all social settings - something he learnt from spending time with his family and reading their moods, social cues, and how badly they communicate - and his perfect masking of his own thoughts actually make him a lot suitable for eventually taking things over, in the unlikely even that Caterina won’t be able to. Fun fact: Carmine’s is, out of the four brothers, the only name you can’t shorten: Alessandro, Ale or Sandro; Vincenzo, Enzo; Domenico, Nico or Mimmo. You can still say ‘Carminuccio’ as a nickname, but that would be like saying ‘Carminie~’ and only Vincenzo does it, to tease him.

[phoebehalliwell]

hi! first off i love your next gen fic and i'm OBSESSED with it! i was wondering if you could talk more about wyatt, chris, and melinda as characters and their relationships with each other? thanks!!

aaaa tysm! & i’d love to talk about wyatt chris & melinda bc i feel like that’s one of the most hmm what am i trying to say here it’s like we know chris and then we mostly know wyatt and we can infer how they interact together but then we know nothing about melinda in canon and how this third puzzle piece fits in to the rest of the equation and just sorta what they’re all like i also really like writing wyatt chris and melinda just bc they’re sorta like the most spread out i think they’re sorta the most “normal” pair of siblings like they’re scattered across northern california doing their own thing and they only interact with each other mostly a normal sibling amount as opposed to the cupitches who all live together and attend high school together and do basically everything together and the mitchell clan which has a psychic link between the twins and also henry and tam still live at home so like i feel like with wyatt chris melinda there’s sort of the most room for like. a subtler sibling relationship. like you don’t need to know all the details and the ins and outs the way you would with like phoebe’s kids because while phoebe’s kids are very much like a power of three wyatt chris and melinda are more of just three of their own people like if they discover some villain odds are they’ll do it themselves or with their own little team as opposed to about any other member of the family who, if they find evil, will almost immediately drag their siblings in. i also think wyatt chris and melinda is the sibling dynamic most rooted in like my own personal experiences bc like. idk it just is.

but let’s talk! so i’ve talked before about w/c/m and magic and wyatt & melinda’s relationships with piper and i think that’s just sorta a good jumping off point on how i view these characters bc like i know we know chris the most but it’s also p obvious that he’s the black sheep of the family so his personality doesn’t really work as a baseline for a child of piper and leo so instead i used my little noggin to think like hmm what do we know about piper and leo and what can we infer about how they raised their kids and we know that like they’re domestic like they’re such softies they’re such saps so like family dinners? big thing. i think that they would always make a conscious effort to like eat dinner together as a family every night, but then during that era when piper was just opening her restaurant (which by the way: let’s talk. formal? casual? california cuisine? italian? white glove? three dollar signs on google? do u need a reservation? What Is The Vibe. also the name halliwells. thots? i think that’s only a good restaurant name if it’s a hella kicked back place i think if it’s trying to be formal the name should be different feel free 2 share ur opinions.) like she’s working through y’know dinner bc that’s how restaurants work so she couldn’t really be home for family dinners so family breakfasts sorta became the new thing and since piper was always like bone tired the next morning it would be leo trying to make breakfast and then wyatt and chris would try to take up the mantle and then finally melinda when she was old enough and she was like the only one who was actually really good at it. i also think holidays are really big for the halliwells namely thanksgiving i have a personal headcanon that piper hosts this really big thanksgiving feast at magic school bc y'know it's like her family's p ingrained into magic school as a whole already it's implied in canon that leo teaches there i personally headcanon one of paige's jobs as finding witches and registering them at magic school, and helping with accommodations like there are dorms at magic school and all that especially bc uh the rate of orphan students is really much higher there than the average so like they really wanna make everyone there feel like family so like piper preps all this food at her restaurant and melinda helps with the cooking and wyatt gets really in to like decorating the main hall and all that chris not so much and he'll like grumble but he still tags along and helps out bc it's just like. fun to spend time with his family and all that thanksgiving is like arguably bigger than christmas in the halliwell household so basically what im getting at is there's this string communal bond there's this solid feeling of love and family that just definitely permeates thier lives like wyatt chris and melinda definitely have that sibling bind that gives them a strong power of three

but now that i've given two thicc paragraphs of preamble now ig it's time to actually talk about the sibling dynamic chris is the middle child which usually implies the role of the peacekeeper but we all know chris and we all know that's not happening he's definitely the most surly if anyone's playing the role of peacekeeper it's gonna be the empath i.e. melinda but like even then she's not so much about uhh keeping the peace as she is resolving the issue y'know i think outside of the home she seems like a really passive person someone who doesn't like making waves or creating unnecessary conflict but inside the home like she's grown up with these two assholes her entire life if someone's being a dick she's gonna tell it to their face she knows her brothers and as an empath she knows when it's time to you know just treat someone kindly and support them and she knows when it's time to go howsabout u pull ur head out of ur own ass and understand that there are bigger things at play here than just u moping around. i think that without melinda chris and wyatt would have just a lot more strained of a relationship due to well y'know everything but melinda doesn't let that shit slide and will set wyatt straight just as much as she does chris bc again she's an empath and she's very whitelighter-y she gets what needs to be said and without her i think something p unhealthy would grow in the space between wyatt and chris bc they’re just so different. like wyatt has immense power and like doesn’t care about he doesn’t really like Want it whereas chris would fuckin love not to be second place he’d love not to be viewed as the weak one and without a middleman like melinda i think the two would just have like. a really fucked up relationship. that and like melinda’s like an empath so you really don’t get to say whatever it doesn’t matter and leave an argument bc melinda’s already got a reading on you she can tell just how much you do care and she will try to resolve this on ur behalf w/o u there so if u want to prevent the misconstruing of words or the revealing of something too personal u gotta stay and u gotta work things out til there’s no bad blood.

i don’t think either one pair is closer than the others i think each sibling goes to another for very specific things like how you wouldn’t go to chris for advice on how to ask out ur crush just like you wouldn’t go to melinda for advice on how to sneak into the underworld w/o dad knowing i think the three of them all really have a symbiotic relationship where there’s not just one who falls behind or slips through the cracks. that being said, unlike with any other pairs of siblings (t/k/h and p/p/p) i don’t think any of their social circles overlap. like melinda’s friends and wyatt’s friends and chris’s friends are all three circles that do not touch. and i think that it honestly sorta helps their sibling dynamic bc it’s very much siblings in small doses; i think if they had constant exposure to one another their dynamic would not be what it is. oh also i think when they all hang out together their idiot quotient goes up like 250% like individually they’re all like small and detail oriented and what not and for some reason when they all hang out together they’re just fuckin stoopid

[ink-and-flame]

Outright Blanket Thievery

Pairing: HumanF/OrcgreM/OrcM [Reader/Gorrim/Gorvok] Rating: GEN  DC (Diabetic Coma Alert)  Tags: Silliness, Comfort, Cuddling? Word Count: 3313 

[Authors Note: I am not going to lie, your prompt gave me the giggles something awful, but I appreciate you giving me time to finish nano and deal with my pneumonia. Sorry this took so long but getting back in the groove has taken some time.I was also inundated with enough work projects for 3 full-time employees and have been consistently pulling 12 hour days. Your patience is a blessing.]

@monster-bait

As beautiful as winter could be, sometimes a person just wanted it to be over. Despite the heat being on you were still freezing. Sitting on the couch under a couple of blankets and shivering slightly while trying to focus on the TV. Binge watching Netflix alone wasn’t nearly as much fun as it was when your roommates were around, but you were bored and didn’t want to do anything that would require you to move out from under the blankets. Your cocoon of warm was slowly beginning to work and you were just not willing to ruin all your effort even to get up for a drink.

When you had initially found this place on Ulric’s List there was the feeling of it being too good to be true. The location was incredible, as was the building. The area was one of the more expensive ones to live in but the rent was reasonable. You would have roommates but they were professionals that were not home as much. That was why the rent was low, it turned out. They were looking to rent to someone that would be willing to take care of the place while they were gone, and they would be gone often. You would have your own bedroom and bathroom, but all other areas were shared. Despite the lack of private entrance, and your own kitchen, it was simply too good to pass up. 

Agreeing to an interview and wanting a chance to view the apartment and check out the area, you decided to meet them there on one of their days off which was in the middle of the week. It wasn’t the greatest of accommodations but with their schedules it was the best that could be done. When you first met them you weren’t sure who was more surprised, you or them. They had not expected a human to respond to the ad, and you had not expected your roommates to be the largest, meanest, most aggressive looking people you had ever seen. One, Gorvok, was an impressively large orc, who was the biggest orc you had ever met, and somehow the other, Gorrim,  was taller. You had never met a half orc half ogre before, in fact you had never seen an ogre up close but now you were pretty sure they were massive and terrifying. 

It had been a mistake on your part, not realizing that when you brought up the results for the apartment hunt, that you did not filter the results meant for humans. What you had done is filtered out the human results instead. It had been your intention to apologize and be on your way, but Gorvok had stopped you. He believed that this arrangement could work out. As a human, the bedroom would be more space than you would get in a human sized apartment. It would allow you to have separate spaces in your room and afford you more privacy. Also, being human would not impede your ability to look after the place, it really wouldn’t take much. 

There was still the issue of your comfort. Both males were worried that you would be afraid of them, but you realized that to do so would just perpetuate existing stereotypes, which you weren’t too keen on despite your initial surprise and hesitation. Also you were never going to find another offer like this. It was more than affordable, and nicer than anything you would be able to find on your own. Pushing your anxiety aside, you took the offer and moved in two weeks later, and honestly it was still one of the best decisions you had ever made in your life. 

You had the whole place to yourself more often than not, and all those worries about having male roommates and them being creeps was unfounded. You were pretty sure they were actually a couple to start, and if they weren’t well that didn’t matter. Neither had done anything to make you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, the opposite in fact. Both were eager to make sure your comfort level was maintained and had even stepped in when one of the neighbors got too friendly with you. More so than you had ever felt in the past, you felt safe. 

In all honesty you had thought the best part of the arrangement would be how often you had the place to yourself, but you had become surprisingly lonely. Especially after the first few times you actually hung out socially with your roommates. Despite a few awkward moments and cultural misunderstandings, you discovered that they were surprisingly fun to spend time with. They were warm, friendly, a little mischievous but not in a mean way. Gorrim in particular was fond of gentle pranks, never anything mean or potentially hurtful. Mostly just silly stuff that made everyone laugh. While Gorvok was a fan of puns, to the point that both you and Gorrim would sometimes boo him out of the room or ground him just to make him stop. 

Overall, you were happier when they were around and that made the nights apart both harder and yet easier. The only reason it was easier was because you realized, after almost a year with them, that you had begun to genuinely care for them both. You worried for them, and wanted to take care of them as best you could. The shock came when you realized that you had developed a rather embarrassing crush on both men in turn, and alternated between which one you fantasized about, though lately the fantasies had taken a bit of a turn and you no longer had to choose, both were there and somehow that made it worse.

Thus far you had managed not to embarass or out yourself and kept your desires secret. It was more than physical, you knew that, but there was still a physical element. Part of the problem was over time you had all become comfortable with each other, so much so that you realized that there were some cultural modesty differences, mostly in that modesty seemed to not exist in orcish culture. Nudity was not seen as obscene or even sexual. The first time you walked into the kitchen to find Gorvok nude had been an experience that had you hiding in your room for days and Gorvok being somewhat upset for much longer. Eventually you got over it, but you couldn’t tell him the real reason you were upset. You just blamed it on your humanity and apologized. 

Though if you thought Gorvok cut an impressive figure, then catching Gorrim working out had almost broken you. Both males had strong, muscular bodies, but not like bodybuilders. They had solid forms with some softness. They were also both impossibly hairy, Gorrim more than Gorvok, but that was the Ogre in him. Ogres were known to be quite hairy, some had fur, and most had horns. Like orcs they had tusks, but Ogres had two sets and sometimes their tusks grew large enough that dental intervention was required to prevent permanent damage. Never in your life had you felt such a strong attraction to anyone, but these two did something to you that you simply couldn’t explain. 

Now you had to fight back your own wants and desires for everyone's sake. They were your roommates and if they weren’t dating each other you assumed they were gay. Not because of any thing specific they had said, but because you were positive you heard them fucking on more than one occasion yet it was never addressed or even mentioned. You weren’t sure how to bring it up and didn’t want to upset anyone by asking the wrong kind of question, so you just pretended you heard nothing. 

So there you were, curled up on the couch freezing despite the blankets and the fire going. You were alone and a little miserable. Not just because of the cold, but because you were lonely, lonely and bored. Sure it was easier on your labido when they weren’t around and it helped avoid any potentially awkward moments, but that didn’t change the fact that despite your attraction to them they were also your friends. It just wasn’t as much fun without Gorrim’s pranks or Gorvok’s terrible puns. Ok, so maybe you could live without some of his terrible puns, but still. 

You knew Gorvok was going to be gone longer this time. He was visiting his family, some emergency involving his brother. You hadn’t even known he had a brother until he was getting ready to leave. The look in his eyes still haunted you a bit. Orcs were close with their family and clans and it was clear his brother was someone important to him, you were afraid to ask what was going on and why he never mentioned his family before but you left it be. 

Gorrim was supposed to be back sometime this week, but you weren’t sure when. So for now you were just stuck alone, cold, bored, and lonely. You had other friends you could hang out with, but you wanted your roommates home. It was a different feeling and it made you melancholy to think about it too much. Sinking further into the couch you sighed, you were still thirsty. 

Lost in your malaise of misery and mummification in the blankets on the couch that you missed the sound of a key in the door and Gorrim coming in. He was usually a loud individual and you normally wouldn’t have missed it, but he was being surprisingly quiet. You didn’t even know you were no longer alone in the apartment until you heard his deep gravelly voice from behind you. 

“I did not realize humans had a cocoon stage.”

You screamed and fell off the couch in a tangled heap of blankets, struggling on the floor as the sound of booming laughter filled the space. Of course after the initial panic you recognized Gorrim’s voice and just layed in a small heap on the floor and waited for him to stop laughing and help you. Thankfully it didn't take long and soon you were lifted into the air and and set gently on the couch. It took a bit longer for you to unwind yourself from the blankets but you managed and just glared up at the still chuckling Gorrim.

“Was that really necessary?” You asked as you wiggled out from under the blankets. 

“Probably not, but it was funny. I had no idea I would scare you so much.” He smiled and sat down on the couch. 

Despite the laughter he looked tired and like something was on his mind. You glanced over at him and wavered between asking and just sitting there pretending to be angry about it. You weren’t really upset, it hadn’t even hurt and it was kind of funny. Looking away you stared at the fire not really realizing what it looked like with you just sitting there, no TV or anything on, just wrapped in a blanket on the couch. 

“You hear from Gorvok yet?” Gorrim asked after a few moments.

“No, you?” You glanced over looking hopeful only to see him shake his head looking solom.

You were both quiet for a bit, just sitting in silence until Gorrim got up and headed toward the kitchen. You turned around on the couch and called out to him to get his attention. 

“Hey, while you are up, can you get me drink?”

Gorrim stopped and turned around slowly with a curious look on his face. “Did falling off the couch make you thirsty?”

“Nope!” You smiled. “I have been thirsty for a while. Just didn’t want to get off the couch.”

Gorrim started laughing again, and hard. He was shaking his head  and just giving you this look.

“What? I was comfortable and it is cold!” You pouted, sulking a bit but it was clear he was going to do as you asked. 

He came back a few minutes later carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. His was significantly larger, and when he handed you yours you could see the tiny marshmallows floating in the drink. It was kind of sweet and adorable. It was also one of the many reasons you liked him so much. Gorrim was thoughtful and kind, even if he was a bit of a punk sometimes. 

“Thank you.” You took the drink and sipped it. Having to let go of the blanket and let it slip down. 

The hot chocolate went a long way to warming you and you were distracted by not only the sweet drink but the warmth filling you that you didn’t notice the blanket inching off of you slowly. Humming quietly you pulled the cup to your chest, eyes closed as you let the warmth fill you. It wasn’t just the drink, having Gorrim back made the room seem warmer somehow. When you finally opened your eyes and set your drink down you noticed the blanket was now only half on your lap and over by Gorrim, who for his part, looked innocent as usual.

You looked him up and down, then at the blanket, then at him again. You weren’t sure if the blanket had actually just slipped off you or if he had something to do with it. Leaving it for now, as you were a bit warmer, you went back to your drink and the silence. This was a much better silence than before. It was a comfortable silence and not a lonely one. Lost in thought again, worried about Gorvok, you didn’t notice the blanket inching away from you again.

By the time you did notice, the blanket was no longer on you at all and somehow was now on Gorrim who looked perfectly pleased with himself as you just stared at him.

“Ahem…. That was mine.”

“Technically. It is a communal blanket.” He countered.

“Yes, but, I was using it.” 

“And now I am.” 

There was something about his smug, matter of fact delivery that fueled your bravery. You set your cup aside, noticing his was on the table, so spills would not be a problem. Reaching over you tugged at the blanket, but it would not budge from his iron grip.

“Why are you trying to take my blanket?” Gorrim asked ever so innocently

“Your blanket?” Your voice pitched up. “I thought it was a communal blanket?” It was hard to keep a straight face but you did your best.

“Mine now.” He quipped and had the audacity to snuggle further into the blanket with an over exaggerated sigh.

“Oh that is it!” 

Launching yourself at him bodily you tugged at the blankets with all your might. Of course Gorrim didn’t have to do much to fend you off being about 4 times your size and stronger than anyone you ever knew. It was like trying to wrestle a statue. He wasn’t moving, even a little. How ever you did notice the smallest hint of a smile on his face.

“FINE! If you are going to be a selfish blanket hog, then I will have to improvise.” 

You weren’t sure what fueled your bravery at this point, as there were lines that had never been crossed by you. This was your roommate who was potentially in a relationship with your other roommate. None of that mattered in this moment as you tugged the blanket up instead of to the side and crawled under it and up into his lap. Wiggling and struggling until you popped up from under the blanket with your back to his chest and the blanket pressed tight to you as you made yourself at home on his lap. 

“Maybe next time you will stop hogging all the blanket and this wouldn’t happen, but since you are being an absolute child about it, now you have to share!” You hrmfed, glad that he couldn’t see your face as you could just feel the heat in your cheeks. 

This was the most sustained physical contact that you had ever had with him. There had been physical contact in the past, you guys had lived together for over a year. Hugs happened rarely but they happened. There were plenty of other small instances, but never anything like this. You were in his lap, you could feel the warmth of his body, the softness of his stomach, the hard muscles of his chest, hell you could feel his breath on your head, stirring your hair a bit. Wiggling slightly you leaned back harder into him and made an exaggerated sigh just like he had. 

Your whole body shook with his laughter as you felt his massive strong arms wind around you as he leaned down and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Well, alright then.” He continued to laugh but it died down after a minute. “I was wondering if you were ever going to warm up to me.” he added softly.

You were silent for a bit, not sure what he meant. Slowly you turned a bit so you could look at him, the confusion clear in your eyes. You felt him shrug as he looked at you.

“You’ve been a perfect roommate, you are wonderful. You just seemed like you’ve tried to keep your distance. I get that half breeds have a reputation and I know how frightening I look.” He paused for a moment as you seemed to struggle to find words. “I mean you are friendly enough with us and I always enjoy socializing, but you seem to keep us at arms length, so I wasn’t sure, that's all.”

You were quiet for long moment. “I just.. I wasn’t sure where the line was. I thought you and Gorvok were. Um… well.. I mean.. Not to make assumptions but.. See…” You were struggling and the face journey you were going on must have been something because Gorrims smile just got bigger and bigger and you just knew something dumb was going to fly out of your mouth. “I heard you guys.” and there it was.

Gorrims booming laughter almost shook you right off his lap, but he had a pretty good grip on you so you weren’t going anywhere. 

“I see.” He rumbled close to your ear.

To your credit you managed to stop the full body shiver that would have given a little too much away. “I… didn’t want to say something insensitive or anything like that. So I just. I wasn’t sure because you guys don’t always act like a couple.” Throwing up your hands you started over explaining. “Not that there's anything wrong with that. Every relationship is different and I am fine with any sexuality. OHNO! I am in your lap and this must be so awkward for you!” As deep embarrassment filled you, you tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he was holding quite tightly to you.

His voice was back against your ear, and you could swear you felt the brush of his lips against your neck, but that must have been your mind playing tricks on you. “If only life were that simple. My relationship with Gorvok is complicated, we don’t really do labels all that well if I am being honest. While we are airing things out, I think it is only fair for you to know that both Gorvok and myself don’t have any gender restrictions in the lovers we take and the relationships we build.” 

You froze, your mind trying to piece together exactly what he was saying when you felt that warmth against your neck. This time the pressure wasn’t something you can ignore when his deep voice washed over you. This time it vibrated you straight to your core. 

“When it comes to someone special, we like to share.” 

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Listen to that. You can hear the chaos all the way from here.”

Mistface twitched his nose as a noncommittal response. He was walking by the side of a nearly-black tabby molly named Darkpelt through the burgeoning fresh blades of grass growing in for the season. Behind him, a pair of toms were trying to occupy themselves with taking in the sights of the vast valley they lived in, for lack of anything else to do. The one directly behind Mistface was the smallest of their troop – a sleek and skinny dark brown tom with a permanent frown on his face. He was very much dwarfed by the massive white tom beside him, who was making an effort to walk slowly so that he didn’t overtake the rest of the group.

Mistface himself, a handsome blue-grey tom with long fur, swiveled his ears, absentmindedly taking in the distant sounds of yowls and cheers. They were heading for the Clast settlement, and from here he could see the large stone houses that made up oversized dens for the family to live in. This was, by far, the most aggressive part of the Territory to be in; Mistface could already envision cats charging up to him once he arrived and demanding to tussle.

As if he’d heard Mistface’s thoughts, the white tom, Laurelclaw, nervously said, “You don’t think we’ll have to do any fighting, do you?”

Beetlefoot, the little tom, snorted. “That’s all Clast cares about. We likely have to in order to fit in.”

Darkpelt twisted her head and fixed Laurelclaw with her wide-eyed blind stare and a grin. “You’ll have quite a few fans in there before long, I think. They love a big guy.”

Laurelclaw hummed anxiously. “I know I’m supposed to be the muscle, but…”

“Ain’t a problem yet,” Mistface said. He was sharply reminded that his drawl was the strongest of the accents in the group as he spoke. “Darkpelt, you got a game plan? I’m assumin’ you’ve done this before.”

“Obviously!” Darkpelt winked at him and, for the second time since meeting her, he wondered how she knew to do that. “How long do you think I’ve been in spy work for?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mistface said, with a disdainful sort of feigned politeness. “How long?”

“Nine months of age,” Darkpelt said smugly. Mistface disliked her. “I mean, to be fair, it’s usually simpleton’s work, but this time I’m collaborating with newbies, so I made sure to have a ‘game plan’, as you say. I’m sure this’ll be easy enough, but still-”

“You’re free to share it at any time after you’re done boasting,” Beetlefoot said dryly.

Darkpelt laughed and curled her tail. “Fine, fine. Mistface, Fernstar pretty much laid out what you’re do to – you’re our spokesperson. Anyone asks questions about us, especially when we first arrive, and you’ll be answering them.”

“Got my answers ready for me?” Mistface asked.

“I do, actually.” Darkpelt nodded. Her tone shifted to be more business-like than jolly. “The three main points: one, you’re here for your brother and nothing else. Two, you don’t know anything about the deputy’s supposed plan to leave. Three, we all met up at the Gathering and decided that our interests aligned and we should go to Clast together.” Her tail uncurled and waved in the air. “Aside from that, you’re smart, so I hear. You can come up with stuff pretty quick. All minor details about the rest of us can be half-truths or non-answers.”

Mistface made a noise of acknowledgement.

“As for the rest of us-“ Darkpelt looked back at Laurelclaw and Beetlefoot. “Laurelclaw, you’re here because you’re tired of your life with the Plage. Beetlefoot, you’re doubled up. You’re done with constantly working for the leaders, and you have friends in Mistface and his mother. They sort of inspired you to come along with and check out a new style of living.”

Beetlefoot wrinkled his nose as soon as the word ‘friend’ was said, but he waited until Darkpelt finished talking to respond. “And none of us know anything about Redheart wanting to take cats out of the Territory?”

“You might have heard about it,” Darkpelt replied, “but you don’t believe the rumors. That’s not to say you aren’t curious, though. Laurelclaw and Mistface don’t know anything. You haven’t said a word to them yet, mostly because the idea sounds too silly to be real.”

In a way, Mistface mused, it was. The Clan, made up of multiple large families and hundreds of individuals, lived in a massive collection of areas all forming the Territory. Mountains, hills, the valley, marshes, and even a trail leading to the coastline provided comfortable and beautiful homes for these cats. Prey was abundant, especially because of the land being littered with certain ones that had a white mark on their heads that proved they had been given to the living by StarClan. Even besides that, there were almost no predators to bother them, definitely no neighboring groups large enough to pose even a slight challenge, and so few struggles that the biggest hurdle to one’s happiness was unseasonably cold weather.

What in the name of the stars, then, would cause a cat like Redheart, said by Fernstar herself to be sensible and level-headed, to consider leaving at all? Something petty, perhaps, like a power struggle, or maybe she wasn’t as level-headed as she was said to be and thought life would really be better in the outside world. Mistface couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“Remember,” Darkpelt continued, bringing Mistface back to the present, “your job – all of you – is to be inconspicuous. Redheart isn’t stupid, and neither is Greyleaf. They’ll know something’s up if you just sit around listening in to conversations or asking strange questions all day.”

That was the other thing. Mistface’s brother, Greyleaf, had mysteriously abandoned his post as the official healer for the leaders and their high deputies – those that served directly beneath the collective heads of the Clan – to join Redheart in the Clast under the pretense of going to see his dying mother to the end of her life. Greyleaf was an anxious wreck with no desire to step a toe out of line and draw attention to himself. The fact that he had lied so brazenly about his family, the thing he held in higher regard than anything else, and went to the rowdiest group in the Territory to work with a cat that was calling for negative attention was baffling to everyone that knew him.

“It’s the job of me and Mistface to get the information we need.” Darkpelt’s usual mischievous smile disappeared for a moment as she turned her head to blindly scan all three of the toms with a very serious look. “And even then, Mistface is to keep near his brother and the common folk in the settlement. Let me do the sneaking around and spying, got it?”

“Right.”

“Got it.”

“Yes.”

“Atta boys.” Darkpelt’s smile returned. “Now, let’s keep our mouths shut from here about this. Maybe some awkward small talk, but nothing beyond that. Spokesperson, walk a little ahead of me.”

Another round of affirmatives, and Mistface picked up the pace until his shoulders were past Darkpelt’s nose. There was no small talk, but the air did become a bit awkward anyway. Laurelclaw looked uneasy and Beetlefoot seemed to be focusing on appearing as calm and indifferent as possible. Mistface was sure he looked confident enough as he was.

Gradually, the sounds of fighting and excited spectators came to drown out the bird chirps and gentle breeze of the flatlands. Beetlefoot’s face creased contemptuously, but Laurelclaw and Darkpelt looked at least a little more interested as an explosion of cheers burst from the houses.

Mistface’s eyes drifted and he caught sight of a grey-brown tom lazing about where the cobblestone was cracked and overtaken by the earth. He was small and dully colored enough to almost completely melt into his surroundings, and he only moved to look up at the approaching party.

“Somethin’ fun happenin’ in there?” Mistface asked casually, once he was close enough that he knew he could be heard over the commotion.

“Always is.” The tom was at least polite enough to sit up and greet them as they paused a few feet away. “You here for the party or the rumors?”

Mistface was aware of Darkpelt’s presence, as if she was staring directly at him to will the correct response into his head. He blinked slowly and replied, “I’m just here for my brother, actually. Heard you got a cat named Greyleaf here now.”

“Ah.” The tom gave an amused scoff. “The boy just showed up, yes. He’s been busy.”

There was a screech and the cheers erupted one again.

Mistface offered the tom a friendly smile, swallowing the distaste for crowds brewing in his chest. “He’ll be real busy after whatever move they just pulled, I reckon.”

“We both will.” The tom stood fully. “I’m a resident healer. Vireoberry. Though everyone’s been going to him over me, if you can believe it.”

“I can,” Mistface said. “He’s quite good.”

“So I’ve seen,” Vireoberry said. “If you want to talk to him before Redheart pulls him away again, now’s the time.”

Mistface thanked him and continued walking, the other three close behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laurelclaw beam and wave his tail to Vireoberry as they parted ways.

Two houses had to be passed before they rounded a corner of smooth rock and emerged into a cobblestone clearing, currently crowded with cats. There was just enough room to see a dark grey ticked tabby standing triumphant over a young golden tom. The cats gathered were shouting various things like “Cry uncle, Ryestripe!” and “One more hit!”.

“Is it a good fight?” Darkpelt said in Mistface’s ear.

“Looks like it’s about over,” Mistface said.

The golden tom looked up nervously at the tabby, who grinned down at him, before he flopped fully onto his side and raised a paw. Laughter and jeers rang through the clearing and the crowd backed up unanimously, as did the tabby. The golden tom unsteadily got to his feet and shook his head, which Mistface could now see was bleeding.

Beetlefoot made a noise of disgust. “Savages.”

“Ain’t our place to judge how they spend their time,” Mistface said over his shoulder, flicking his enormously fluffy tail. “Let’s find Greyleaf.”

The crowd began to disperse, with a few cats walking up to the tabby to shower her with compliments (to which she seemed very receptive). Mistface scanned the clearing for his brother, eyes narrowed a little. He watched a cluster of cats suddenly part to allow a tall, elegant red-brown molly through. He recognized the molly as the one that he had seen talking to his brother once at a Coterie gathering for the smaller groups within the Clan. His eyes narrowed further.

The golden tom caught sight of the molly and immediately scrambled to his feet, bowing his head repeatedly and scattering blood on the ground.

“Easy, Ryestripe,” the molly said, and even at a normal volume, her voice seemed to drown out all other sound with its clear, commanding tone. “Just sit down.”

Ryestripe complied, grinning weakly. “Heh, did you see? I nearly got her.”

“I saw.” The molly didn’t quite smile, but her hard face softened a little. “You’ve been doing well for yourself. Don’t overdo it when you were just patched up, though, alright?”

“Don’t bother making him promise,” the tabby said. “He won’t keep it.”

“Neither will you,” Ryestripe shot back.

“I’m not the one who got beat up!”

“Do you have any injuries anyway?”

Mistface perked his ears and turned his head. A grey tabby, just as fluffy as him, was weaving around cats to join the two mollies and Ryestripe. His voice was having a much harder time making itself heard over the rambling around him.

“’Course not, Greyleaf!” The grey molly pressed a front paw to her chest, jokingly offended. “What do you take me for?”

“A moron?” Ryestripe offered.

The grey molly rounded on him, about to pounce, but the red-brown molly quickly stepped between them with a stern look to the victor of the fight. Greyleaf’s eyes flickered skyward for just a moment before he approached Ryestripe and started examining his wounds.

“Now’s our chance,” Darkpelt whispered to Mistface. “Go see him, we’ll be a little behind.”

Mistface straightened up and strolled as innocuously as he could towards his brother.

The red-brown molly saw him first. Before he could say anything, she moved to greet him.

“You’re new,” she said, in that regal-sounding voice. “Welcome to the Clast.”

“A merry afternoon to you,” Mistface said, mostly to be polite.

At his voice, Greyleaf’s head jerked up. He caught sight of Mistface and his eyes widened.

“Thought you might be here, brother.” Mistface offered a winning smile to the molly, then a more genuine one to Greyleaf. “Didn’t have the decency to sent Beetlefoot to tell us?”

“I w- well-“ Greyleaf shuffled his feet, looking bewildered and anxious. “I was going to, things just got busy…”

“I sent for him to help us here,” the red-brown molly said. “I apologize for that. I should have had the decency to alert you and your mother.”

“Mm.” Mistface regarded her now with a slightly tilted head. “I assume you’re the one in charge?”

The molly nodded once. “My name is Redheart. I’m the deputy.”

“Your brother has all sorts of connections, doesn’t he?” Darkpelt said suddenly. Mistface looked back to see her strutting up with Laurelclaw and Beetlefoot hurrying behind her. “Bit of a downgrade from working for the leaders, though.”

Greyface blinked. “Beetlefoot?”

Beetlefoot jerked his head in acknowledgement.

“Nice to see you again,” Laurelclaw said in a very clear attempt to sound friendly that came off as awkward. “I don’t know if you remember me, we met at that Coterie-“

“Oh!” Greyleaf coughed, visibly wracking his brain for the memory. “Right, uh, Laurel… Laurel…”

“-claw,” Laurelclaw finished.

“Right, sorry.” Greyleaf cleared his throat. His eyes drifted to Darkpelt. “And you are…”

“A bored warrior looking for some fun,” she said, grinning. “Darkpelt.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Redheart said, dipping her head respectfully to these cats of inferior status as if they were high deputies. “Are you all companions?”

“Just for a bit,” Mistface said. “We met at a Gatherin’ and decided to come here together.”

“He wouldn’t shut up about you,” Darkpelt said to Greyleaf, cheekily twitching her whiskers. “I hope you’re as good of a healer as he said you are.”

“He is.” Mistface glanced back at her, eye narrowed, though his tone was light. “Might serve you well if you decide to join the chaos here.”

Darkpelt laughed. “Good luck finding anyone to fight me.”

“I’m sure there will be at least one.” Redheart’s eyes crinkled a little – not quite enough for a smile to follow, but enough to give off an easy, comfortable air. “You’re all welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Redheart!” someone shouted, their voice echoing from inside a house. “Olivepaw’s acting up again!”

“Coming,” Redheart called, and with a final nod to everyone, she walked off. Somehow, she managed to move as quickly as a trot without hurrying.

Greyleaf watched her go, inhaled deeply, and huffed out a breath, his fur smoothing down as he did. He looked back at Mistface. “What about Mama?”

“She’s nearby,” Mistface replied. “Turns out the Vultures’re restin’ up with one of theirs havin’ kits, so they were happy to take her in and keep her away from this whole…”

“Yeah.” Greyleaf gave a blatantly fake smile. “Well, I’ll have to visit her. You’ll show me where to go?”

“We can go tomorrow.” Mistface’s smile was still real. “Once we’re settled.”

“Your mother’s a sweetheart,” Darkpelt said. “She came with us.”

“We took our time,” Mistface said, before Greyleaf could protest forcing their mother to travel. “She’s doin’ well. Happy to rest, of course, but…”

“Right,” Greyleaf murmured, seemingly to himself. “Right.” His voice raised again. “Well, uh, you guys are free to wander around and check out the place. Uh, Darkpelt, do you need assistance, or-?”

“Laurelclaw’s got me,” Darkpelt said cheerily. She turned her head a little towards Laurelclaw - but, Mistface noted, not quite at him like she had before. “Come on, let’s see what they’ve got. Beetlefoot?”

“I’ll walk around myself,” Beetlefoot said shortly.

“Alright!” Darkpelt tapped Laurelclaw’s chest with her tail. He jumped and hurried to walk by her side, his own tail just touching hers as he pretended to need to give her directions. Beetlefoot nodded again to Greyleaf and started off the opposite way.

Greyleaf cleared his throat, “Well, I, uh, I better get to work on Ryestripe here- Uh, do you just want to hang out while I do?”

Mistface stepped close enough to gently flick his brother’s nose with his tail. “Wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

[softnaruto]

Shisui with S/O from our universe and she's a princess. Like how would he react when he finds out and maybe sees a photo of S/O in nice princess gown/dress (like she's from europe so she hasn't really ever wore kimono?) and he goes Uwu☺️ sorry for my english 😅

Shisui with a princess! s/o from another universe! 

author: hi hello! So sorry for the late response! I decided to make this into a headcanon to portray the different aspects best! Hope you like it!

pairings: Shisui x female! s/o

words: 1007

genre: fluffy, cute, au

warnings: none; freaking out

The minute Shisui would even hear about the POSSIBILITY of being in love with a princess—especially a princess who wasn’t from HIS world—he would freak out.

He was going through your stuff as you had just moved in with him, and he came upon one of the photos you had taken right before you had been taken into his world. You were wearing a long, elegant black dress, accompanied by your date as you were attending a prestigious ball. The unfamiliar clothing and background made him extremely confused, and when he flipped the image, he noticed a strange date on it.

He turned to look at you as you left a box in the bedroom, and you raised an eyebrow before noticing the photo. You walked over to him, a nervous smile on your face, ready to make any kind of excuse as to not freak him out.

“Hey babe,” Shisui said, “What is this? A costume party? Also, where did you get this dress? I’ve never seen anything like this. You look so beautiful! You also—”

“Shisui, I have to confess something to you.”

He freaked out. He stumbled a bit, kind of laughing and trying to change the subject, but as you kept explaining your situation, the reality hit him.

I mean, hyperventilating. He would have to sit down for a while, his eyes wide with shock and you’d have to hold him in your arms as he realized he didn’t know anything about his world. Although he is thought of to be an individual with the keenest eye in the Uchiha clan, he really was completely naïve to the outer world.

Your world.

“I’m okay and this happened a while back—”

“Okay but YOU’RE A PRINCESS.”

“Yes, but I like being here now.”

“But you’re rich there.”

You’d just have to let him calm down. Hold him for a while, lay with him, tell him you are not in his world against your will, and that maybe at first you were, but now that you had met him you didn’t want to go back.

Kiss him, make him feel okay with the possibility that... there are other universes out there!!!

Once he understood the situation (or tried to understand), he would ask you a few questions. He was on your chest, your fingers softly running through his short hair.

“Where are you from?”

“A country called Spain. It’s in a continent called Europe.”

“A continent?”

“It’s a… well, let me explain. You know how Konoha is in the Land of Fire? It’s almost the same thing!”

He’d feel a bit slow when understanding the concept, but after seeing how similar both of your worlds were (except with the much more advanced technology that he wishes would exist to stop violence,) he would start asking you about yourself.

In fact, he loved the thought of you as a princess. He had always noticed your elegant nature; you were gentle and soft with everything, even as a shinobi. The way you would hold a kunai, your elegant and well-taken care of fingernails wrapped about the sharp object with such… grace. He had never seen anyone be as agile and as graceful at the same time; not even Shisui was as skilled.

He asked if you could wear a dress for him. He had always seen you in regular attire, as you were not used to wearing such attire back at home and liked wearing regular clothes instead, and you… were open to the idea.

“A kimono would look so beautiful on you, you know,” Shisui said, lifting his head from your chest before looking up at you. “I think you’d look even better than in the photo.”

Your cheeks heated up as a blush spread throughout them, and you shook your head, slightly nervous at the idea.

“I’ve never worn a kimono,” You confessed, “I don’t know if I’d like it, honestly.”

Before you knew it, you were standing before a mirror, wearing a beautiful pink kimono that was layered with beautiful flowers. The kimono felt much nicer than the dresses you were used to and you felt much more comfortable in one.

As a child, you were often forced to stand a certain way, act a certain way, and speak a certain way when you were in a dress, but as you stood in front of Shisui, you felt like a brand-new person. His jaw had dropped, and a blush had crept over his cheeks like a sunset spreading over a beach.

“Y/N—” Shisui began to say, but was quickly left speechless.

“What do you think?” You asked, a small smile on your face.

“You really are perfect.” Shisui walked over to you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before looking at the lady at the counter. “We’ll take it, please!”

Long after the news of your mysterious origin came out, Shisui has not stopped thinking about you in that elegant dress. He would sometimes take the photograph with him on missions, loving the way the dress hugged your curves, wishing he himself would be able to see you like that one day. Although he didn’t want you to feel alone as your family and friends were in another universe, he was happy that you were content with just him.

He needed you too.

Sometimes you would talk in your native language, Spanish, and he would often fall asleep as you’d whisper in his ear how much you loved him. He couldn’t understand, but one day, he would. He’d try to learn about your culture and your way of life before and would try to make you feel more at home.

Shisui is all about making his love and appreciation for both you and your culture obvious. He doesn’t want you to go back, which is the only selfish trait that he has in his body.

The most important part is that his princess was really a princess, after all.

[imma-lil-teapot]

TMNT 2003/2k3 Headcanon: Crying - (Leonardo)

Feel free to scroll past this first part if you’re not interested in my silly rambling and nonsense. I won’t mind. Promise. ;)

Okey-dokey then, with the global epidemic that is the Coronavirus well in action and most of the world stuck in lockdown (starting this Friday for us too), felt like getting the ‘ol creative juices flowing with a little headcanon-y thingy in preparation for -possibly- more fandom writings to keep myself busy during the house arrest (well... it kinda is!) and hopefully my mind off all the bad news. :( 

Also, this is totally my first one on the blog! WOOT! Please bear in mind that I’m SUPER rusty! Haven’t written in ages so there are bound to be typos and all matter of general errors scattered throughout the post. Don’t pet them! They bite!  

Anyhoo~ Despite attempting to create and share with the goal in mind to uplift spirits, I decided to start on a rather upsetting subject (PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! They end on happy notes ;) ) because, Imma just come and say it, I enjoy seeing my favourite characters shed tears (not for just any old reason -their personality plays a huge role in this- and CERTAINLY not for sadistic reasons, land sakes no! But... well, you’ll see~ ;) ) It makes me all gooey and fuzzy inside to see them display such raw emotion and I just wanna leap into the TV screen to hug and console them. I dunno why. Maybe I’m nuts like that. (Remembers Raph crying at the farm when Leo was badly injured and wishes she could just hug them all and take away the pain) Oh well, if you enjoy visualizing the same, then *High Fives*. :)

So yeah, if you read the title, you’ll know this is based on the 2003/2k3 series (my favs). Hope you all enjoy~ :D Grab tissues cause sad turts ahead! :’(

Jibber jabber stops here~

TURTLES~

LEONARDO - You are here

RAPHAEL

DONATELLO - Coming soon

MICHELANGELO - Coming soon

WARNING(S): Because of the subject, Angst and Hurt/Comfort will be present.

RATING: G (General)

WORD COUNT: Don’t have the foggiest.

ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD:

And apparently gifs too, so without further ado: (Completely unintentional but in actuality, totally intentional rhyming)...

TO THE HEADCANONS~~~~

~LEONARDO~

-- It’s no easy feat to make the leader in blue turn on the waterworks. Leo won’t cry for any old reason. It’s not because he has no emotions, far from it, but being the leader of a small ninja clan -who happen to be family as well- is no easy task in itself: he has a lot on his young shoulders and deals with many issues on a daily basis few his age ever have to.

-- It’s because of these reasons that Leo doesn’t cry often. One of the lesser likely to out of the four brothers. But when he does, it’s an emotionally distressing sight to behold. 

-- Leo tends to cry whenever those closest to him -namely his brothers, his father/master and truest friends- are severely injured or are in a dire situation. Remember his angry/moody arc? The thought of losing any of them causes him great pain and distress, especially if he were the cause of any of it, and when that happens, he can’t stop the dampness that forms around his eyes and soaks into his mask. 

-- He’s not fond of crying, especially in front of others, even though he fully comprehends its normalcy. He feels he needs to be everyone’s rock, their fortress of physical and emotional stability to turn to for strength when things get rough... So when the tears start to fall, he feels he can’t show them, can’t allow them to watch him crumble under the gripling weight of helplessness and anguish.

-- He frantically wipes at his eyes and desperately attempts not to sniffle, but it’s a hopeless battle, for his tears are already a steady stream. 

-- He’ll try to hide when possible, usually retreating to his room to allow the worst of the emotions to spill over before returning to the others... Though he may be in there a while: when Leo lets his emotions go, it can be just as powerful as his red-banded brother’s rage. 

-- He spares no time in making sure the coast is clear for the tears are already streaming by the time he reaches his futon, and there’s no stopping them now as he lets himself drop to his knees, only halfway onto the mattress. He purposefully leaves the room unlit, cloaking his form in the darkness. 

-- He sniffs a few times as he shuffles up against the wall, sitting upright against it, bringing his legs up and hugging them loosely and droops his head against a single knee pad. 

-- His voice desperately wishes to escape. To express its misery. But he won’t allow it to, often placing one hand over his face in a bid to quell the sadness and remain silent in the battle against his own inner turmoil. He refuses to let anyone see him in that state of utter sorrow and vulnerability.

-- He whimpers ever so slightly and coughs a few times as breathing becomes difficult. He knows this episode won’t be over any time soon. Fortunately, he keeps some tissues next to his bed for such rare occasions and tries not to blow too loudly. He thinks back to the last time he cried so hard... It’s been a while. It felt like a build up. 

-- Time has been forgotten as he’s lost in deep thought. By the time he slips a hand across his eyes, only the material of his mask is still slightly damp. He clears his nostrils a couple of times before considering whether he was ready to return to his family. He’d of course straighten up his bedding beforehand, and would also require a trip to the bathroom to wash his face. A true ninja leaves no evidence. 

-- Leo tries to put the horrifying images out of head before leaving his quarters. He doesn’t wish to be weighed down again and thus maybe cause his emotions to come out a second time. He knew someone would catch on that time. Instead, he holds his head up high, focusing on the there and now to carry him forward.  

BONUS EXTRA~

-- Failure is also one of his greatest foes. Leo despises it, but not in the irrational sense; he fully comprehends that in order to grow, one has to lose in order to learn and thus, succeed in turn, and while it can frustrate him when he’s unsuccessful at mastering a martial arts technique for example, he understanders it’s part of the process and that no one’s perfect. 

-- It’s when his slipups could spell casualties or death to his family and/or friends is when it weighs down on him like a boulder strapped to his shell. 

-- A really big one. 

-- And it hurts. So much so that it causes him to become despondent and often teary-eyed when no one’s looking.

-- Boi Bloo might also cry from especially sad movie scenes. He gets seriously into the story, and when the scene is just right -perfect music, perfect timing etc.- you may just catch Fearless with watery eyes. 

-- He can’t help it. After all, he’s a leader, and very caring and kind-hearted individual, so movies showing children or anyone/anything defenceless getting hurt has him not only visibly upset, but also angry at the cause. He’s a softie like that. 

-- He won’t have a meltdown, of course, but the tears are definitely there. Just don’t tease him too much; he’s easily embarrassed by it. ;) 

BONUS EXTRA EXTRA FEMALE READER OR S/O EDITION~ (Can also use an OC/FC insert if you wish, up to you)

You had figured something was up by the time you’d finished greeting everyone in the Splinterson household except for the Turtle you’d long to see most and he hadn’t made his presence yet known. 

The idea that he must’ve been practicing or meditating swiftly vanished when Mikey told you he’d been in his room in the dark for the past few hours. “The guy hardly ever naps, and even so, never this long.” He’d told you. “I dunno, (Y/N), we were about to check on ‘im when you arrived, but maybe you should be the one to. Think he’d really appreciate it.” And there was absolutely no argument from your side as you were already making your way up to the room.

You didn’t know what to expect as you neared the doorway. Could he possibly still just be sleeping? Meditating in the dark instead of his usual spot by the training area? Or... was he sick? The latter now had you concerned and you picked up your pace... Only to pause mid step when an unmistakable sound reached your ears: a sniffle.

Had it come from within his room? It was the only logical explanation as everyone else was downstairs. You were truly perturbed now as you stood outside the doorway and called out the ‘eldest’ Turtle’s name.

There was some shuffling to be heard but you were unable to tell for sure what he was doing -probably trying to neaten up his bed- “(Y/N)? Just a second, okay?” he responded in a rather awkward verging on frantic tone, and you were certain you heard another sniffle escape him. 

That, along with the way he’d replied really didn’t help to put your mind at ease. “Leo, are you alright?” Nor was the pitch blackness in which he remained concealed in.

“Yeah, just... l-looking for something.” There was some more shuffling as if to prove his point, but you were having none of it.

“Then maybe this,” you began, turning around to flick the light switch, “will help?”

“No! Wait!” But it was a split second too late for as soon the brightness illuminated the entire room, you had caught the telltale signs of an emotional meltdown in progress plastered on his face before he quickly turned away and briskly wiped an arm across his face, attempting to hide the shame... or perhaps embarrassment? 

“Leo...?” your heart and voice softened, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You automatically walked to him, closing the gap he was now trying to form. 

“Nothing,” he lied, and acknowledged it was a fruitless attempt but still couldn’t stop himself. Autopilot panic mode was enabled now. “It’s nothing.” 

Unfortunately for him, autopilot mother hen mode was activated for you as you reached with both hands to his carapace and shoulder, gently turning him to face you. “I can see that it’s something.” Your words were gentle, and you wanted nothing more than to take away his pain. “Look at me, Honey.” His body was turned but his head remained to the side. It was clear he didn’t want his obvious distress on display, even to you. “Please, Leo?” You tried again, and slowly but surely, his eyes met yours, and you felt your heart sink further.

The fabric of his mask was wet and eyes were still red with fresh tears that threatened to fall. He appeared so broken and helpless as he stared at you, and even though he uttered no words, you could practically hear him despairingly ask “Is this what you wanted? To see me at my lowest?” from his expression alone. 

Never had you witnessed the leader of this band of mutant brothers cry. At times you had wondered if he ever did, and yet here he was; the incredible pillar of strength and dignity you had come to know and adore, in tears and so dejected that you couldn’t stop your own eyes from becoming damp the more you gazed at him. “Oh, Sweety...” You whispered as you felt your soul shatter. It was too much to bear. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, one around the midsection and the other over his shoulder, and buried your face into his leathery neck, offering every ounce of comfort you could muster.

It didn’t take him long at all to sink into the embrace and return the action. Beyond the point of concerning himself with showing the pain he felt -or the wetness now soaking into your shoulder when he placed his forehead against it- he sniffed and finally allowed the tears to fall once again as fresh waves of emotion surged throughout his body.

And this time, he couldn’t keep the whimpering to himself.

“Shh~ It’s okay, it’s okay,” you soothed, lightly patting and rubbing along the scutes of his shell as he weakly sobbed, finally letting go of all the sadness that gripped him. 

You weren’t even aware of what was wrong, and you most likely wouldn’t find out til later once he calmed down, but right now, he just needed you to hold him. Hold him until the hurt was gone... And so you would. 

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

ALL THE FEELS!! I EMBARRASS!!

OMGosh, this turned into a monster! The mother of all HCs!! :O No seriously, this wasn’t meant to be this long! I was suppose to squish all four into one itty bitty little post, but then it just grew... and grew... and GREW! Personally, I blame the Reader Bonus but I’d be damned if I didn’t enjoy writing it! ;P You guys here on Tumblr got me slightly addicted to them and have wanted to attempt some myself so... Anyhoo~ I can’t really say if I’m entirely content with the whole thing, I dunno. I feel some parts are better than others (writing style-wise) but yeah, I really need to get back into the swing of things...

Speaking of which, I DO plan on adding my two cents on the other bois as well, but judging by how this one turned out, they’ll most likely all be this length, more or less, so each Turt will get his own post so I can really jot down those details with all the freedom in the world! That being said, I can’t say when they’ll be added but hopefully soon-ish. :) Raph's next on the list!

Thank you all so much for the read and hope you enjoyed~ :D

~Drag0n Mistr3ss’ Random Fandoms*