#oc: noa

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & "Every Friend Group Has The..." Template

Tagging @josephseedismyfather @voidika @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.

Music Monday for The UnTitledverse, An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. This time I'm doing another special round but for my favorite songs from Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss (or Hellaverse as I've heard it be called) and how those songs fit into my wacky worlds and stuff. Plus a "Every Friend Group Has The..." Template for Life, Despair & Monsters. Anyway, enjoy listening to the first batch of songs and you'll find the template below the cut:

Smile Tunes is a crossover fic (is it really a crossover if their in the same universe?) for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss in my The UnTitledverse series, focusing on both story lines (which eventually overlap) through the connection/interaction of three OCs; Samuel Who (the Morningstar's adopted son royal advisor who had been tasked by Lilith to look out for his adoptive sister, I mean, the royal heir, Charlie Morningstar), Killian "Krunk" Glass (a shark demon runt from the Greed Ring, now an IMP employee who's basically demolition expert aka the EXPLOSIVES GUY (TM) and occasionally makes the assassinations "look like an accident", despite not knowing how accidents occur for humans), and lastly Kingsley (who seems to be an exorcist, a really tall one, is assumed to have gotten lost in the Pride Ring since the last Extermination and has a bit of the old amnesia to boot, he mostly stays at the Hotel), with Kingsley being a central plot line for both Samuel and Killian to investigate, while Killian and Samuel get involved in romance and since Samuel is basically part of the Morningstar Royal Family, he's able to visit the HB plot line, just as Killian can enter the HH plot line because he's doing the most work for Samuel on the "investigating Kingsley" sub plot. Anyway, focusing on Killian, he's basically the demolition expert aka the EXPLOSIVES GUY (TM), and is often tasked with cleaning up after the group to at least make some of the assassinations look like an accident. Killian likes his boss Blitzo well enough, though is kind of sour about the whole Stolitz situation as he's all about "EATING THE RICH" (until he meets Samuel and eats out the rich), he begins on neutral terms with Moxxie and Millie (who don't hate him but are distant from him mostly due to his slight resemblance to Chaz Thurman) but he begins to bond with them over time (Moxxie and Killian start bonding over their respective roles as weapon and demolition expert, while Millie and Killian start bonding over a shared disdain towards Chaz). He and Loona mostly grunt at each other with head motions/gestures (Killian's wise enough to not upset a short-tempered Hound Demon, in addition to the fact Loona's the boss' daughter), though he does occasionally snicker at her insults. He really, really, really loves his job. Have a listen to the Jingle below:

"When you want somebody gone and you don't wanna wait too long Call the Immediate Murder Professionals! Hand grenade or cyanide, we'll make it look like suicide! The Immediate Murder Professionals! We do our jobs so well, because we come straight up from Hell! We'll kill your husband or your wife, we'll even let you keep the knife! We're the Immediate Murder Prodession-!"

("Kids die for free!")

In the first book of my original trilogy An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts, the main antagonists to my pair of protagonists is a trio of Kin who hold control over the cosmos/stars and are entities full of contradictions and paradoxes; their names are Noir, Nova and Noa. They follow the protagonists through their in the Multiverse, acting as nuisances towards both of them. Did I mention that Noir, Nova and Noa may or may not be the same person who came from one or the other or not at all while also maybe or maybe not being brother & sister/father or mother & son/s or daughter who may or may not be in a relationship because they may not be related or maybe they are related or-

Anyway, those deranged and messy and questionable and ambiguous trio dynamics aside, how 'bout some envisioning of Noir singing this song with Noa and Nova when confronting the two human explorers encroaching on their territory:

"Inside of every human* is a lost cause, ha But we'll dress them up for now with just a smile ("Wicked smile!") And we'll chlorinate this cesspool with some old redemption flair And show these simpletons some proper class and style ("Class and style!") Oh, here below the ground, I'm sure your plan is sound."

[* Noir would be speaking with the two protagonists, who are the first HUMAN travelers of the Multiverse, so demon wouldn't make sense in this context].

Last song with my Fallout New Vegas Courier Six OC Ryder as the focus and (one of) her love interest's sister Marissa "Ress" Bishop as a support. I detail this as more specifically Ryder chasing her never-ending ambitions no matter the cost, which results in her committing actions that leave her isolated, used by bad influences, feeling lacking/empty inside and seeking out new highs to satisfy or distract her from that endless pit (gaining more power/influence/knowledge for the former and sex/drugs/violence for the latter). Ress acts as the person trying to temper this to a least less harmful degree, even while she's definitely contributing to Ryder's behaviors as well, as she too has wants a satisfying life making a name for herself while indulging in her vices, though not to the extent of Ryder's ambitions. Michael Kovac's section of lyrics describes Ryder while Chi-Chi's section more-or-less kind of describes Ress. [TW: Please read the warning at the beginning of the video... unless you're just listening to it, though the lyrics have heavy subject matter in them]

"Til death do us part But we're already past that phase This is a brand new start And I think I deserve some praise For the way that I am Despite having overdosed, and ending up comatose I don't give a damn I've let my emotions go, fuck being a sober hoe This is the mantra, this is my life You're playing with now till the end of the night Surrounded by fire, the passion ignites A hit of that heaven and hell, a hell of a high!"

"I'm addicted to the madness This casino* is my atlantis We're forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin Let me leave my soul to burn and I'll be breathing it in I'm addicted to the feeling Getting higher than the ceiling And we're never gonna want this fucking feeling to end Just concede and give in to your inner demons again!"

"Yeah, you fell in love But you fell deeper in this pit While death rains from above So count your blessings 'cause this is it You're not letting it go So what if I misbehave, it's what everybody craves You already know So come if you're feeling brave, and fancy yourself a mate You want it, I got it, see what you like? We could have it all by the end of the night Your money and power, my sinful delight A hit of that heaven and hell, a hell of a delight!"

"I'm addicted to the madness This casino is my atlantis." "We're forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin." "Let me leave my soul to burn and I'll be breathing it in." I'm addicted to the feeling Getting higher than the ceiling And we're never gonna want this fucking feeling to end Just concede and give in to your inner demons again!" "Just concede and give in to your inner demons again."

"I'm addicted to the madness This casino is my atlantis. We're forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin. Let me leave my soul to burn and I'll be breathing it in. I'm addicted to the feeling Getting higher than the ceiling And we're never gonna want this fucking feeling to end Just concede and give in to your inner demons again!"

("One, two. One, two, three, c'mon!")

"I'm addicted to the feeling Getting higher than the ceiling And we're never gonna want this fucking feeling to end Just concede and give in to your inner demons again!"

"I'm addicted to the sorrow When the buzz ends by tomorrow There's another rush of poison flowing into my veins Giving me a dose of pleasure that resides by the pain I'm addicted, I'm dependent Looking awesome, feeling helpless And I know I'm raising cane by every highway in hell Maybe things won't be so terrible inside this casino."

[* Casino instead of hotel since the Lucky 38 is where Ryder's base of operations tends to be since she came into the Mojave.]

This friend group from Life, Despair & Monsters includes Monika (from Doki Doki Literature Club), her sibling Haoyu Anabuki, their (future) boyfriend Icarus Galatos, his rather delinquent alter Xavier Tulip, his more sweeter idealistic alter Hatsukami Hinode and his friend Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir) as...

Blank Template below:

[heart-buzz]

my leopard gecko OC, her name is Noa 💕 she'll hug you, steal your wallet, and then apologize and give it back because she's in therapy for that sort of thing

[seranavolkihars]

married 🔥

[nine-of-words]

No Vacancy (Part One)

M Merfolk x M Orc Reader

STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 2981

Content Warnings: Astraphobia, Spawning, Slit Fingering, Oral Sex (Reader Performs)

Originally I planned on posting this for mermay, but the passage of time is my greatest enemy. :')

Well… This is about as prepared as you're going to be for this cyclone.

You've battened down every hatch. You've checked and double-checked the stabilizing wards. You’ve readied your backup generator, just in case a rogue, magically charged wave manages to overload the ship’s ley grid.

You’ve convened with your singular, unwaveringly faithful employee, Rosing - whom could care less about the coming storm, which she referred to as a ’drizzle’. 

Ah, to have the calm confidence of a middle aged kobold woman…

But most importantly, you've assured your passengers that you've run this open ocean route through heavily stormy conditions hundreds of times before and are well equipped to handle it, so they don’t need to worry.

That didn't stop some of them from continuing to fret - landlubbing tourists in the above deck rooms, of course. The merfolk occupying your various submerged rooms below deck haven't expressed so much as a peep of concern. They never do.

Now watching the heavy rain start to roll in, you can't help but think of how difficult it would be to swim in those storm churned waters.

You're at full capacity now, and you had expected your merman friend to stop and rest as he usually does during his longer courier runs, but you haven't seen head or tail of him yet.

You have found yourself looking out at the water more than once, absentmindedly scanning the spaces between white caps for his bright blue dorsal fin cresting the surface. 

Eyes skimming the water one last time as the downpour becomes unbearable even for you, you sigh, and head back inside to your cabin.

He probably just didn't need to stay this time, you assure yourself. You just hope that he’s somewhere safe from the impending storm.

You strip out of your rain gear in the open bridge area before walking into your sleeping quarters, so as to not make any puddles on the floor. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep after climbing into bed, more fatigued than you realized and rocked to sleep by the familiar roll of the ocean.

You wake later with a start to the sound of something heavy thudding loudly on the deck above you, audible even over the howl of the strong winds and pelting rain.

What was that? 

Probably equipment or supply crates bumping against the gunwales from the force of the storm. Usually nothing to worry about, but that sounded louder than normal, and something may have broken loose despite your detailed preparations. At worst, a thrill-seeking passenger decided to take a stroll in the storm and is in grave peril…

Caution wins out, and you rouse yourself from your comfort.

Hurriedly, you jump out of bed, pull on your raincoat and the pair of waxed trousers you have set out for tomorrow, and step into your boots. You have the foresight to grab your handheld spotlight as you head out of your cabin to go investigate.

The raging winds whip about you as you take a step out onto the open deck of your ship, shielding your face from sea spray with your forearm, your free hand holding you steady. Your eyes follow the beam of light through the poor visibility, searching for the source of the noise.

A lone crack of lightning streaks across the sky, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It doesn’t take long to locate a familiar pop of vibrant color. Beautifully reflective azure scales illuminate under the focused beam of the spotlight, stark against the greyed out haze of your surroundings. 

Sprawled out across the wooden planks is your dear friend - mostly limp and listless, being tossed around across the slippery surface with the force of each strong wave. He's managed to wrap the guide rope up around one of his hands, holding on for dear life as he's pelted by the elements.

"Noa!" You shout to the merman over the tumult of wind and rain and thunder, your body rushing into motion without active thought.

He weakly lifts his head at your voice, but if he responds, it's completely drowned out. He’s not shifted his tail into legs for some reason - so you steel your resolve to carry him in.

After stowing your spotlight in your pocket and waiting for a break in the onslaught of waves, you heave the merman’s body up with a grunt of effort. There is a surprising density to his athletic, piscine form, like that of most merfolk. 

The motion of hauling heavy loads of fish may still be second nature, but you've grown a bit soft in the middle since your fishing boat days. Life as a ferry ship captain carting tourists around the various island chains of the Indra-Thalassic isn't anywhere near as physically grueling - something you're thankful for, even if it makes this situation slightly more challenging.

You wobble slightly on the path back, your boots threatening to lose traction on the slippery deck from the uneven weight. 

Much more distracting is the feeling of his damp, smoothly scaled body against your fingertips. You can’t help the way you feel about him, despite how much you’ve tried to quash it over the course of your friendship… And you certainly don’t think it’ll ever be reciprocated, so you’ve resigned some time ago to continue to keep it to yourself. 

He would have to be the one to initiate a relationship anyway, due to Orcish standards…

But now is not the time to ponder this. So you brush those thoughts away, and try hard to focus on getting you both back to safety.

Luckily, you know your ferry ship like the back of your hand, and you manage to navigate back into the main cabin despite the treacherous weather and low light.

You carry your friend across the threshold like a prized catch. The heavy door shuts on its own behind you with a thud.

“Can I get a room?” Noa asks wryly, his voice tired.

You can't help but laugh.

"Boat's full up." You say simply, and then think to clarify as you glance out the porthole; "But I’m not turning you away in this mess. You can share my cabin for the night."

“Thanks.”

“You alright?”

“I’ll live. Just… too tired for legs right now.” He weakly motions to where his tail sways beneath your grasp.

"Got it. ...Now where to put you, then…" You wonder aloud. “Ah, I know.”

You enter your personal quarters, pass the alcove where your bed is, towards the head. The compact corner tub seems a good enough place as any to store a merman that’s physically incapable of shifting at the moment, so you carefully deposit him there.

“Huh. Neat.” Noa remarks, leaning back against the broad edge of the tub and removing his waterproof courier pouch. His bright eyes run over the bathroom fixtures in interest, his coiled braids quivering softly with the slight movement of his head.

From what he’s told you of his life, he hasn't spent a lot of time on land, so you have to wonder if he’s ever even seen a bathtub in person before.

“You must be cold and sore after all that.” You sit on the edge of the tub and turn the faucet, letting comfortably hot water rush over his flank and begin to fill the tub.

“Ah… That’s… nice.” He relaxes considerably.

"Why on Hearth were you out swimming during a cyclone?”

"Couldn't pass up the job, the gold was way too good." He sighs, holding a spread hand to his brow. "But the storm came in too fast, even for me."

He always seems to be working himself too hard. It makes you worry for his health…

“Mmn. How’d you get up on deck?”

“Jumped.” He says, far too nonchalantly for the impressive feat of agility he’s describing.

"Ah." You chuckle in admiration. “You’re amazing.”

“Keep telling me that and my head will get fat.” He smirks.

“Where were you going that was that important, anyway?”

Noa simply growls, throwing his head back in frustration and scrubbing his face with his palms.

"Sorry. That bad?"

"No. Just- don't worry about it." His brow knits, and his tail slaps the edge of the acrylic in irritation with a hollow thump. "I just… had a second stop there’s no way I’m going to make now. Stupid delivery held me up…"

“Hmmm. That’s rough.” You rub your beard, steering the conversation to a topic that will cause him less distress. “...You know, I don't think I've ever seen your colors like this. Did you always have so much purple in your scales?"

Noa’s scales are usually a gradient of blue and white, with stark white horizontal stripes lining his sides. But now his fins are an almost ultraviolet purple, with the darkened shade of his blue scales making the purple accents pop. The small, thin fins on his hips flutter rhythmically under the rising water.

"No, it's… seasonal."

That makes sense, you suppose. You don’t see him much at all during the migratory months.

“Suits you, is all.” 

You chat a bit more, until the tub has sufficiently filled. You cut off the flow with a metal squeak of the knob and rise to your feet.

It’s difficult to pull yourself away - you would spend so much more time with him if you could. And you may or may not be enjoying this view… as guilty as you feel for it.

"I should get some more rest before daybreak. But I'll be right over there if you need anything." You motion to where your bed is nestled into the wall.

"Thank you again." Noa nods, the grateful smile and sense of relief in his body language more than enough gratitude. "For always being here when I need you."

"Haha, not a problem at all, my friend."

You second guess stripping back down to your underclothes now that you have company, but your desire for comfort wins out. The humid air from the storm all but requires it. 

So you do, and quickly switch off the lights before returning to your bed for some much needed rest after all this excitement.

You hazily wake up what must be a few hours later, to the sound of water sloshing and wet footsteps. It'd be irritating being woken up for the second time in one night, if you weren't used to it coming with the territory. Something always needs attention on a boat.

More than anything, you're confused. Then, you remember - Noa is in your cabin tonight. 

"Nnnh-?" You go to say his name, instead being abruptly silenced by the sight you register.

Noa is standing on his own strong legs at the foot of your bed, water rapidly wicking off his completely bare skin. The saturated color of his scales is even more apparent in the brief flashes of light from the storm outside.

"Cold." He says simply, quietly, staring you down with a strangely intense look in his eyes.

Ah, the tub water must've gone cold.

You grunt in acknowledgement, holding up your quilt and motioning for him to join you without putting too much thought into it. 

Noa doesn’t seem to need an explicit verbal invitation, climbing up onto your raised bed without a problem.

But rather than the slightly awkward warmth of sharing a blanket at a platonic distance you were expecting, you get something much different.

He straddles you, his weight pressing sweetly against your groin. From this angle you have a clear view of the pink flush on his lower stomach, framing his swollen, needy genital vent, even in the low light.

“Noa?” You finally inquire, your voice still froggy as you let the raised quilt slip from between your fingers. Certain parts of your body are waking up faster than others.

“I was going to Spawn. That's where I was headed,” He finally admits in a pained, breathy response. “Thought I could make it in time… But…"

Well, the subtext there is pretty clear.

You’re stunned for a moment, unsure that this is really happening, or if you’re still dreaming. It’s not every day the object of your unrequited affection crawls into your bed and essentially asks for sex.

Noa presses his hips flush against yours and grinds, restless and agitated in his movements, as if you needed any more confirmation of what he wants.

Your body has taken little time to react, given your pre-existing affection for him. You can feel the persistent throb of your newly erect cock as it prods against Noa’s pelvis.

You know you shouldn’t… that this will end in heartache, like it normally does for you… You’re fairly sure Noa isn’t typically into men and is just desperate, and that never ends with anything that lasts longer than arrival at the next port.

…But it’s him. 

The rubbery soft skin gliding against your own makes your head empty of any other thought, valid concern or not. Not to mention the pressure and movement against your loins starting to let it take the helm over your brain.

“You know I need something a little more direct than that to work with.” You say, the taboo of initiating on your end the only thing still holding you back.

“Please,” Noa all but begs, his voice shuddering. “I need… Nngh… Help.”

Thunder cracks outside, breaking the silence, followed by a flash of lighting illuminating Noa’s form on top of you.

Ultimately, you are weak. You can’t resist, and start rubbing yourself against him in turn from beneath.

An excited, ragged sigh escapes Noa’s chest in response.

Oh. You definitely need to hear more of that.

You reach down, drawing a line with a finger along the edge of his swollen slit, enjoying the way he squirms at the sensation. Then you press your finger inside, immediately sinking in deep from the copious amount of natural lubricant.

Noa gasps in surprise and a brief look of panic flashes across his face, before it’s completely obliterated by an expression of enjoyment, his eyes glazing over from watching your fingers thrust in and out of his own body so easily. The muscles around his opening start to contract rhythmically around the intrusion, squeezing you.

You pull your fingers out when you feel Noa’s phallus start to emerge, rigid but still slightly squishy to the touch.

Noa shifts to hover over you, balancing his weight on his palms and knees, and you allow yourself to be pressed back against the bed. The ends of his braids tickle your exposed chest.

“Aah- Never done this out-  outta the water.” He chokes out in warning. “Or with a man-”

You want to reach upwards - hold the back of his neck firm and kiss him - and for a moment you’re tempted to act on the impulse. But, you resist.

"It's not all that different." You reassure him. “I don’t have any lube at the moment, so my mouth will have to do.”

Noa grunts in approval, clearly fine with whatever he can get at this point.

You hook your legs on the edge of the bed and shift your body downward using your calf strength. Your mouth trails down Noa's chest and torso as you go, until you're at hip height, staring down his now throbbing cock.

Grip firm on his hips, you guide him into your mouth. Noa, unsurprisingly, tastes a bit like the ocean, a subtle hint of salt pooling on your palette..

He immediately lets out a shuddering gasp that morphs into a groan, hips bucking forward in automatic, biological need.

Your curved tusks press against the firm muscles of his inner thighs, his skin soft and ticklish against your facial hair. 

After adjusting his knees into a position at your shoulders slightly more conducive to pumping, he tests the roll of his hips. You grunt encouragingly, sucking and pressing your tongue along the underside as he moves, pulling an eager groan out of him.

It doesn’t take long for him to become comfortable with the motion, and he starts to shamelessly and forcefully thrust into your mouth. The tip of his cock repeatedly jabs at the soft flesh at the back of your throat. The urge to gag is strong, but you manage to tamp it down and relax your throat. You dig your calloused fingers into the side of his thighs, bobbing your head against his strokes.

Despite being fit and having enough stamina to swim cross-ocean for a living, Noa is clearly already worn down from his recent ordeal; already at his limit barely after starting.

In what seems like no time, Noa lets out a string of breathless grunts and his struggling thighs tremble around your jaw. You’re nearly blinded by his vibrant colors that seem to literally light up the dark cabin - The stripes on his sides flicker in phosphorescent white, like the streaks of lightning outside. 

Cum shoots down your throat without you even needing to swallow, completely coating it. The subtle salty taste from before is a full-blown brine now.

Noa rolls off of you and limply collapses onto his back against the bed, chest heaving for air so deeply you can see the pink flash of his gills peek out between his ribs each time his lungs expand.

“T-Thanks- Sorry? Nngh-” He gasps in shame, looking like all his life force has left his body. 

“No problem at all.” You say, a bit hoarse, rubbing your throat.

By the time you’ve fully caught your own breath and propped yourself up, he’s already out like a light, fast asleep exactly where he landed.

You let out a sigh of a laugh, and get up to lumber into the head to take care of yourself.

Not the least sleep you’ve gotten in one night in this line of work…

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[bobapixels]

[obviouschangeling]

A dump of some of my OC's that I've made in Vroid studio (and myself at the end.)

Winzy, the first girl with the all pink hair, is my most recent one, and part of my never ending battle of trying to make black girl hair in modeling software.

But! In order the characters are:

Winzy Duke

Noa

Lohen

Willem

Rue (not an OC, but the character from Princess Tutu. But I'm proud of her model gdammit, her hair was a nightmare.)

Syla

Ten

NID

and me~

[loony-lupus]

She still learning how to smile not awkwardly :D

[poetinprose]

4 Who felt romantic feelings first?

4 Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

4 How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

4 Do they have any pets?

(I could have just said 4 :D for anyone you want)

Thank you for the ask!! I think I'll answer this for both pairings since I love talking/thinking about Elior and Derian and still need to figure out the details for Noa's and Corin's relationship xD

Elior + Derian:

Elior was basically lovestruck at first sight (though he didn't know what those feelings meant since he's never been in love before). For Derian it was more like 'what a cute guy' and a fun little flirt in the beginning.

So yeah, for Elior Derian was his first everything. For Derian on the other hand... I think Elior was his first real/serious relationship (that he also wanted and wasn't forced onto him).

They became really cuddly once they figured out that their feelings were requited. But Derian has a lot of trauma regarding homophobia so he doesn't feel comfortable showing/receiving affection in public (not even when it's only Kendra or (one of) the others that's present even though they've made it clear that they couldn't care less that they're two guys).

No pets in this life :,) (although they would be amazing pet parents).

Noa + Corin:

Corin for sure. Noa needs quite a bit to develop those feelings.

Hmmm good question xD Corin definitely has more experience than Noa but I'm pretty sure that he never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few weeks (mostly because of his background that scares everyone away). So, relationship wise I can't think of a first for any of them.

It gets more over time. Corin is a very touchy person who shows his affection with physical touch while Noa doesn't like to be touched most of the time/only by people she has a deep connection with.

Nope (I imagine it kinda hard to take care of a pet while on the run lol but maybe one day...?).

[li-an-nie]

YOU'RE TWO YEARS OLDER THAN HIM KAISER

ACT LIKE AN ADULT FOR ONCE 🤡🤡🤡

from this awesome soccer meme

[teojira]

[Light] [Noa x GN!reader oneshot]

Summary: Noa wakes you up at an ungodly hour to go into the overgrown city.

Words: 2.5K+

Warnings: Mutual pinning (neither of you know yet), romance, Reader is insecure, self indulgence at its fucking finest. Gender neutral but Noa thinks you're pretty :)

A/N: I'm so in love with him it actually hurts LMAOO, literally a ache in my chest. I was listening to Light by sleeping at last while writing this <3 hence the title, I hope I got the energy right!

You weren't quite sure what Noa was planning, he had woken you up early, maybe an hour or two before sunrise.

Groaning and rolling away from his poking, he moves to trail a hand down to your side, jabbing his fingers there.

Your eyes fly open with a yelp, staring daggers into his head. You turn to him, and he has a small smirk on his face, laughing silently about the pout of your face.

He's already dressed in his normal attire, his feathered adorned to his person, a sling wrapped around his shoulder as well.

Noa watches your face take him in, and he hopes to anyone who's out there, to Caesar you can't tell how flushed he gets under your gaze. It's bad enough that everyone in the clan side eyes him because they know of his feelings for you. He hasn't worked up the nerve to tell you himself. He doesn't know what to do. He's both simultaneously enamored with you and your differences, but in the same vein, you're so different.

Sometimes, a part of him wishes he hadn't fallen for you. It'd be easier. It's easier to just be your friend and your protector, but falling for you was as easy as breathing.

You move to stretch out our limbs, groaning as you twist and turn, eyes still half lidded. The noise gaining his attention, his previous thoughts disappearing.

You're pretty like this, he thinks. You always do though, no matter what you're doing.

"What the fu-

Noa shoves a finger against your lips, gesturing for you to be quiet.

'I need you to come with me, important.' he signs, moving to grab at your hand, pulling you up. He forgets his strength a lot and yanks you into his chest. Your head knocks into him, and you yelp. In his defense, he didn't mean to!

"Sorry." He sniffs, using a large hand to rub at your forehead to soothe the ache there.

"This better be worth waking me up."

"It will be, come on."

Noa leads you down to the horses, a hand on the small of your back, pushing you to go faster.

"Noa, what is the rush? Is everything okay?" You dig your heels into the soft earth beneath you, looking at him with concern.

He's been unusually impatient.

It's early as hell in the morning, no one else is awake. Not even Dar is up and about and that woman is constantly moving.

"Everything is fine, you worry too much."

"I worry a normal amount, thank you very much." You stick your tongue out at him, moving a hand to rub at your eyes, to get rid of the crust lingering.

You both arrive at the hut where the horses are kept, you linger back as Noa goes inside to grab his. He's fast and efficient, checking the satchel strapped to the animal to make sure he has everything he needs for this impromptu trip he's taking you both on.

It's cute the way he gets in the zone, his eyes trained on his task.

Yawning, you're not processing Noa's words until he's right in front of you in the saddle. That was fast.

"Come, come. Do you want to ride with me or ride alone?" Noa always ask, and he knows the answer by now.

You always ride with him, just like you always go with him anywhere.

It's a running joke in the clan that you're Noa's shadow, always at his heels, asking if he needs anything or if there's something you can do in general.

You've come a long way since then, finding your place in the clan. Not needing to follow Noa like a lost puppy, but as it turns out, you can't shake the habit of being around Noa when you can. Without thinking, you find your way towards him.

A part of you is still insecure about your place among them, knowing just how different you are. Noa is your only true companion, you think. Dar is loving, but you're worried she doesn't like you, same with Anaya and Soona. No matter how much they say they love you, years of differences have made you insecure.

So you cling to Noa like a lifeline, despite knowing you shouldn't, surely he doesn't want to be around you all the time. It's not fair to him.

But Noa never let it show that he finds your differences bothersome, you couldn't lift what the others could? No worries, he'd adjust it for you, making you a pulley to help or helping you himself when he had the time.

Or if you didn't know how to fish or hunt, he'd take you and Soona, and Anaya would come with all three encouraging you and helping you learn. He'd ask his mother to teach you how to make garments and how to farm the earth. He always looked out for you, even if he wasn't around.

They never made you feel like a burden, Noa never made you feel like a burden.

How were you not supposed to love him? In every universe, you're sure you were to be in love with him in every single one.

"Help me up?" You ask sheepishly, lifting your arms up so he can grab onto you.

"Of course."

It's been about an hour or two, give or take on the ride to the overgrown city. Not that you'd know. With the warmth of Noa against your back and the steady movement of the horse, you've fallen asleep again.

Noa snorted when he realized, your body slumped into his, your hand loosely holding the saddles horn in a feeble attempt to not fall off.

He has to wrap an arm around your waist to make sure you didn't fall off or that what he tells himself.

Noa would never admit it, but he cherishes how easily you trust him, how comfortable you are with him, it makes him feel important, makes him feel loved. He'll give you shit for it, but nothing makes him happier.

You're only asleep for the last hour of the ride, breathing softly as Noa leads you both past the overgrown city, the hooves of the horse being the only noise being made.

"Here, wake up." He slows down the horse, pulling to a stop in front of a looming building, covered in greenery. He has not so great memories of it. Almost falling to his death would do that to you. But he won't take you that high. He'd never put you in danger.

His arm slips from your waist, moving to rub up and down your side as he tries and wakes you up for the second time today.

You let out a grumble. He feels it in his chest, and it makes him chuff, but open your eyes, blinking rapidly to get the sleep out of them.

Once he's positive, you won't fall without him propping you up. He demounts with an ease, his feet hitting the ground in a soft thump as he turns around to face you, holding his hands up so you can use him to get down yourself.

You move to grab his hands with your own, ignoring the spark that runs down your spine at the contact.

There are so many differences between you and Noa, too many to even begin to count, but the way his hands are similar to yours, the way he immediately holds you so gently, makes them seem insignificant. Is this what love is? It's weird.

Noa sets you down on the ground, smiling softly at you, then moving to wrap the reins around a piece of metal protuding out of the ground to ensure the horse doesn't go anywhere. Something he didn't use to do, but after the events of the last time he came into the city, he's not going to have that mistake happen again.

"We'll start climbing here." You crane your neck and balk at just how tall the structure is, it's a good couple of stories up, he's insane.

"Uh, Noa, I don't think you remember, but I can't really climb that high."

"I carry you, like I always do." He says it nonchalantly, shrugging with a shoulder.

"Noa, I'm heavy, no." It's always embarrassing when he carries you. It makes you blush, and you're terrified he can hear your heartbeat.

The look he shoots you is devastating.

"You always say that, you are not." He argues, looking offended on your behalf.

There's no point arguing with him about this.

You sigh and gesture for him to turn around so you can climb onto his back.

He does just that, crouching towards the ground.

You're always afraid of choking him out when you get on his back, so you take extra care to gently wrap your around around his neck, sliding your legs around his waist.

"Are you ready? It'll be a bit of a climb."

You let out a 'mhm.' Your brain too occupied with taking in his warmth and his scent, mind all fuzzy at holding him.

"Hold on tight." He squeezes your thigh.

The climb is uneventful, mostly you filling in the silence with what you've done in thr last few days, Noa nodding and offering a hum here and there.

He finally stops, jostling you a bit to look at what he's come to show you.

A smile creeps along your face. It's Eagle eggs, four to be exact.

Despite the Eagle clan hand raising plenty of the birds, they don't do well breeding with their intervention, so to see a clutch is rare.

"Pick the egg that speaks to you the most."

You stare at the nest of eggs, taking in each one's complexion. It's hard, you have no idea why you have to choose. You figure Noa just wants your input, so you take it seriously.

Within a minute, you decide to point to the biggest egg in the center. The eggshell is freckled, and it stands out the most among its siblings.

"I like that one." You say softly in Noas ear. He nods and scoops it up, taking care to put it in the sling.

"Was that it? Can we go home now?" You rest your head on his own, holding back from nuzzling into his soft fur.

"Yes, this is all I needed today."

After making a slow descent down the crumbling tower, Noa helps you get back onto the horse, throwing himself behind you. He moves the egg sling to be on his back, in order for you to be comfortable. (He wants you to lay against him so bad again)

The way home is filled with a comfortable silence, only breaking when you see fit.

It's always nice to spend time with Noa, but this particularly feels different, like something is innately changed in your relationship. You're probably imagining things though.

Noa stops shortly before the village, it not being more than an acre away.

Noa swings a leg off the saddle, falling down and reaching for your waist to lift you down as well.

He breaths out your name, continuing after a moment. "Before we go, I need to give you something. Close your eyes."

You lift an eyebrow at him, but do as you're told. It's Noa, you trust him with everything in you, so your eyes slide closed.

Noa ruffles with something, cursing quietly under his breath. It makes you giggle, you had been teaching him some human vocabulary, alot of curse words included.

You're a bit startled when you feel him brush your hair away from your face, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. The blush that threatens to overtake your face is insane, and you hope he thinks it's just because the sun is beaming down on the both of you.

You feel something be placed over your head, sliding down and stopping at your chest.

Noa takes a second to readjust it, making sure it's snug and resting comfortably on you.

"Open now."

Peeling your eyes open, you're greeted with a blinding smile by him, and your mouth goes dry for a second at it. Yes, he has always been handsome, but the way he's looking at you now, the way his eyes are shining with happiness, it's a lot to take in. He's so handsome and he doesn't even know it.

Noa doesn't notice your internal dilemma over him, nodding his head towards your chest, still beaming with pride.

You snap yourself out of your Noa fueled daze, eyes going down to your chest.

It's the egg you chose.

Confusion fills your brain for a second.

"This is your egg, why am I carrying it?"

Noa told you all about how his egg was crushed the first time he got it, and how a downward spiral that moment had lead to.

Even though he had Eagle son now, you had figured he still wanted his own, to say he had done it for his late father.

"No, this is your egg."

"What?"

"Your egg, your Eagle to raise."

"Noa-"

"Noa, nothing. You are part of us. You get an eagle."

"Noa, I'm not. This is special to your clan. Someone else should have my egg." You try and carefully slip the sling from your neck, but Noa beats you, his hands inclosing around your own to stop you.

"You are apart of the clan." He murmurs, pushing your hands down until they're at your side. His hands then come back to your face, holding your cheeks gently.

"You're not an outsider."

The lump in your throat is suffocating, your eyes well past the point of welling up. Salty tears having no consideration for how embarrassing it is for you to cry over this.

Noa hums, this thumbs coming up to brush them away, still smiling, his eyes willed with warmth and his smile just the more softer.

He pulls you in then, resting his forehead on yours, a hand against the back of your head.

You let out a shuddering breath, smiling so hard it starts to hurt.

"You're apart of me."

"Noa! My Eagle hatched!" You're sprinting to him, he just got home from exploration with Anaya. You've missed him, even more than usual.

You move to grab his hand, trying with all your might to pull him off to drag him to the Eagle area.

Anaya shoots a look to Noa, a smug smirk on his face.

"Noa you go, your mate needs you." He teases, dismounting his horse, grabbing Noas reins from him.

Noa sputters, quickly signing that no, you two are not mates, at least not yet. He hasn't even asked if you liked him yet! He's told Anaya this on the trip, many times, after many rounds of teasing.

You don't understand their signing that well yet, so you tug at Noas hand again, intertwining your fingers.

"Noaaa, come on!" You whine.

Noa is sure he'd do just about anything you asked of him, and then some. So he gets off the mount and runs with you.

Anaya snorts, shaking his head good-naturedly.

"Not mates, as if."

[heart-buzz]

profile for Noa. why am i making these? idk it helps me to keep my OCs organized i guess.

[teuzmoonlit]

Ushio Noa ❤️

• ブルーアーカイブ

• AIイラスト ✍🏻

[nine-of-words]

No Vacancy (Part Five)

M Merfolk x M Orc Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 3028

Content Warnings: Smoking, References to Sex Work

This segment was emotionally exhausting to write (complimentary)

“Eat.” 

Rosing all but slams the bowl down in front of you, where you’ve been sitting in your cabin staring out the porthole, lost in thought. 

You’ve been so distracted with your agenda and the calculations you've been scratching out that you didn’t even notice that she must have started cooking when she entered the galley a while ago. But now, it’s hard to miss the warm, spiced scent of curry when it’s sitting right under your nose.

You’d been avoiding taking meals in general; you’ve had no appetite with the pit of worry occupying your gut. But this scent is almost enticing enough to make you forget about that for a few minutes…

You know better than to waste food she’s served you, so you do start to dig in. While you start pretty unenthusiastically, her cooking is too good to not end up eating voraciously before you know it.

“You can’t hide in your cabin forever.” The kobold woman scolds you unabashedly as she takes her own meal. She sighs. “Moping over a boy.”

Despite the chiding from someone less than half your size, having the company feels good after sequestering yourself lately. 

“I don’t plan on it.” You say, rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand. “After we drop these tourists off at the island, I’m going to make a small detour on the way back, but it might delay our arrival at port for a bit."

"Because of his issue?"

You did tell Rosing a good bit about what happened - she's just too good at extracting information from you, basically being your family at this point. You just tried to stay mindful of which specific details you shared, for Noa's sake.

"Yeah. It'll probably only take half a day. But I know you like to take your leave in port, so I wanted to make sure that was okay with you before committing to this plan.”

“Doesn’t bother me, if it’s what you need to do. Dancehall will still be there.”

That’s a pretty glowing endorsement from her, so you’re pleased to have the support.

The day after next, you've arrived at your destination and anchored your boat. Unsurprisingly, it’s begun to languidly drizzle while you’ve made your preparations. 

You pull on your raincoat and say your goodbye to Rosing. Then, you board your captain's gig and lower yourself into the water with the winch.

It's difficult to not second guess yourself, when it's just you and the sound of the outboard motor and the raindrops smattering loudly against the rubber hood covering your head. 

You are technically going against his wishes by getting involved, but… You know you can help him. You have the ability to easily solve his problem- how could you claim to love someone and sit idly by while they suffer? You certainly can't.

The rain is persistent the entirety of the short trip towards the other, looming ship, to the point of you wondering if the small dinghy will completely sink while you're gone as you secure it. …A risk you're willing to take, you decide as you climb out of it.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a working ship; a vessel that isn’t completely spotless as to not offend tourist sensibility, but one that exists in a constant state of semi-grime. Still, it’s far less disgusting than the deep permeating filth of a fishing boat - at least the rain is giving it a good wash.

It doesn’t take much time between someone spotting you as out of place, and you being escorted to the captain’s cabin. The cabin itself is pretty cluttered and dingy, but it isn’t its state of cleanliness that puts you at unease, so much as the poor lighting exacerbated by the weather. Every corner is coated in thick shadow, like a spectral hand could reach out and grab you if you get too close. You take off your raincoat and hang it on a nearby coat rack.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” Uttar actually has a flash of surprise visible on his face before it swiftly vanishes underneath his hardened features. He motions to the ratty velvet padded chair across from him. “Folks tend to get lost.”

"Hello, nice ship you have here.” You take a seat and say, meaning it for the most part- you've been on much, much worse, after all. As far as fishing boats and pirate ships go, there isn't that much difference besides decor.

"My line a’work has it's perks. Better than breaking my back haulin' fish all day. But I’m sure you know all about that, yerself.” Uttar grins as he pulls a cigar box from his desk drawer. 

“True.” You have to question just how similar your work is now, but you can at least agree on that point…

"Now, what brings ya to my neck of the seas?" He slowly selects a cigar, and motions to offer you one. You decline with a subtle hand movement, so he puts the box away and proceeds to light his own. “Can’t imagine a little social call in this sort a’downpour.”

“No, this is more of a business matter, I suppose.” You chuckle, trying to break up the undercurrent of slowly building tension in the conversation. "It's regarding… a mutual friend."

"Well now, that does sound interestin'. I was under the impression that we didn't have many a’those left these days."

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. You seemed to enjoy yourself the other day, at least?”

“Didn’t say I didn’t, but I haven’t seen head or tail of you in near’a decade and then I see ya twice in a fortnight? Things don’t just go’n spring up like that without reason, as it were.”

He’s not asking the question directly, but it’s there all the same.

"The reason is Noa." You say, cutting through the niceties to the heart of the issue.

You dig a hand into the breast pocket of your kurta and set a neatly packed case of thin, flat traveler's gold bars on the desk.

Uttar takes a long drag from his cigar and rubs his wiry beard in thought, probably to avoid looking like a salivating hound upon seeing that much gold presented to him.

“Didn’t think ya the type of man that needed to buy himself whores.” Uttar sneers in a teasing, infuriatingly chummy tone. “Old charm not what it use’ta be?”

“Oh no, I do fine for myself in that area.” You keep your tone even and a smile on your face, even if the language choices he’s making really make you want to reach across the desk and throttle him yourself. “And to be as clear as possible, this isn’t for any service of his. It’d be to pay off his debt in full.”

“Surely ye understand why lettin’ ya just waltz in here and purchase one o’ me gold makin’ assets out from under me is a bad business decision.” He draws a long inhale of smoke, and lets it filter out through his nostrils, dubious. “Interest is the whole point of lendin’.”

“I thought you might say that… If it’s not enough, I can make up the remainder."

"A whole lot to spend on a ship with a broken mast, that." He mutters derisively. “Yer outta yer mind.”

“I feel quite sound of mind, actually.” You chuckle politely and unclench your jaw. You’re not sure exactly what he’s getting at, but the implication that Noa is broken angers you, regardless. “But thanks for your concern.”

Calm. Deep breath. You just have to get through this without trying to kill him, and it’s almost over.

"Oi… Fine. It's a deal." Uttar extends his free hand over the table for you to shake after a few more moments of deliberation. "But only because we got history, aye?"

"I appreciate it." You shake his extended hand.

The cabin settles into a somewhat tense, but not unwelcome silence while Uttar double-counts the gold tablets and scribbles some notes down in his own records as he goes.

But something that's been on your mind for a while just won't vacate the space. You know it'd be better to ask Noa directly, but you haven't exactly had the opportunity…

"I do have a question, if you don't mind me asking."

"Aye?"

"Do you know what his debt was for?"

"Dunno. Investigatin' sordid history ain't in my job description." Uttar shakes his head, knocking some ash into the overfilled tray. "These contracts don't track that sorta detail, anyhow. I can tell ya I bought his debt off a pleasure boat eastern like. So that leaves ya with what? Drinkin' or druggin', or gamblin', or fuckin' to excess - then tryin’a stiff the tab."

"That doesn't really sound like him..." 

"Oi? Didn't realize yer boy toy would come with some pricy habit or another?" Uttar laughs, making a show of pressing the stamp into the vermilion ink and then onto the paper. When he lifts the stamp, a bright red rectangle containing the Orcish characters for 'paid' remains, emblazoned across the section containing his information. "They always do. But we already shook on it all proper-like already, so no refunds!"

He slides the paper across to you.

You take the parchment. It feels strangely light, for how much weight it's been causing Noa to carry for who knows how long.

While scanning the information to make sure it's correct, you notice you overpaid by a considerable amount. But that's fine -  You can always refill your savings. What's important is the relief you're feeling on Noa's behalf. And honestly, you expected to be stiffed when you came here, so you're not exactly surprised. 

"Her Ladyship pick up her special cargo yet? …" Uttar speaks into the receiver he’s picked up from his desk. "Good. Bring 'im here." 

It doesn't take long for the cabin door to be thrown open and Noa to be thrust through it.

"Ugh, you don't have to be so rough, asshole! I know where-"

Then he sees you, and freezes in his tracks. He stands motionless as the cabin door closes behind him. 

"There he is!" Uttar coos facetiously and curls a thick finger at him. "C'mere."

"...Why?" Noa sneers in suspicion at Uttar, but is looking directly at you when he says it- as if he's questioning you as well, for entirely different reasons. 

"Just c'mere, you obstinate shit! Spirits, I don't know if I'll miss ya or be chuffed to be rid o’ya!"

"Rid of me?" Noa says incredulously, eyes still locked on you, before they settle on the paperwork and gold still strewn on the table. A panicked look crashes over his features as he puts the visual clues together.

But Noa still complies, moving to stand next to Uttar and spinning around when he motions to. 

Uttar produces a short, wooden wand from the pen cup on his desk; one carved with uniform runes, typical of the preloaded varieties you can buy in most magic shops, that are easily usable by non-magi. He presses it to the top of Noa’s back, right between the shoulder blades.

There is a small fizzle of magic at work, followed by a shimmering, nearly imperceptible shattering of something unseen. Noa raises his hand over his shoulder to rub the affected area, and when his hand moves, the small marking on his skin is gone too.

"There ya go," Uttar says with an almost bored air of finality as he waves his hand. "We’re all square. Trackin’ rune's gone. He's your problem now."

Even though he’s visibly mad at you and you definitely have more pressing matters that require attention, you can’t help but be struck with just how gorgeous you think he is. And you’re simply so pleased to see him again after how things were left, it’s hard to think straight with your heart hammering in your chest.

But to his credit, you’d be mad if you were left in the dark like this, too. You just have to get somewhere you can have a calm, rational conversation, and you’re sure that he’ll understand why you chose to do this.

You rise from the chair, rolling up the contract.

“You heard him.” Noa shakes his head in disapproval and shrugs his shoulders, voice dripping with simmering resentment. “I’m your problem now.”

“I know this looks bad-” You begin to at least start some verbal damage control on the way out.

“It doesn’t matter how it looks. I don’t get a say in it, right?”

“That’s not the case at all-”

"This is all real sweet love reunion ‘n all. Real cute. But I’ve got things to do.” Uttar interrupts, kicking back in his chair and puffing his cigar with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, reminding you that you are indeed having this quarrel with an audience. “So unless one of ya is gonna suck my cock, get off'a my fuckin' ship."

Noa doesn’t need to be told twice, or even very long to process the words - instead jumping at the offer to no longer be present. He storms out of the cabin, leaving you to hastily pull your raincoat back on and chase after him.

“Noa, wait-” You try to call after him to get him to slow his pace so you can speak, but he’s already out of earshot.

By time you get yourself together and get outside, you hear a tellingly large splash down below. You get back to the gig as fast as you can without risking your boots slipping on the wet surface of the deck, and get yourself into it. Luckily, it’s still floating, and you don’t need to spend any time bailing it out.

“Noa! Noa-” You shout at the water’s surface fruitlessly, knowing your voice won’t carry far underwater or through this wall of rain- let alone both. “Will you just give me a chance to explain?”

“Explain what?” Noa snaps in rage after his head crests the water near the side of the dinghy, water flinging off of his braids in a fine spray as he whips around to face you. "Was this the plan the whole time? You just wanted to buy me too?"

“I wasn’t buying you! I wouldn’t want that-”

“Oh yeah? Because that’s sure what it looked like!” Noa grips the side of the boat as he shouts, slightly rocking it to one side, his dark blue fin spines flaring straight out in anger. “I should’ve known when that sleazy bastard was cozying up on your ship that you were just as bad!”

Admittedly, that stings quite a bit.

“I’m not- you know that’s not true. I wanted to help you!”

“What do you not get?! I don’t want to owe you like that!”

“But you don’t owe me anything!”

“You say that now! But there’s always the expectation attached! It always comes back up! You think I want to try to go on with that always hanging over… whatever this is?! It will absolutely ruin it-”

“Noa, It was your gold!”

“...What?”

“It was your gold. You paid for it.”

“You’re lying- That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I’ve always hated taking gold from you for your room, ever since we became friendly. And especially when we got involved.” You struggle to explain, your voice starting to grow hoarse from straining to be audible over the heavy rain. “I meant it when I said it was on the house. But you were so stubborn about paying anyway…”

It’s a strange sight to see. Noa is dumbstruck, completely silent and nearly motionless in the water, despite the fact you know his tail must still be working to keep him afloat under the surface. Rivers of rainwater run down the slopes of his face and body, which he seems to be completely unaffected by, aside from the hazy nictitating membrane that slides horizontally across his eyes every now and then.

“...I had already set it aside. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I have a big enough margin even without that room, and the ship didn’t need any pressing maintenance. I thought I’d just end up giving it back to you sooner or later anyway…” You continue, slightly unnerved by the sudden silence and the intense, unrelenting stare. “Then when I found out how badly you actually needed it- it seemed like the best use for it there could be.” 

The longer you try to explain yourself, the more you begin to doubt your decision - but when you think about what the alternative would’ve been, you just can’t bring yourself to regret it. Even if Noa never forgives you for your overstep, at least he’s free now.

“And you just… made all of these decisions on my behalf. Without even consulting me.” Noa cuts in, sounding more distraught than angry at this point. That’s still some small progress, you think?

“Noa… We both know you would’ve refused to let me help." 

Another pause. In this case though, it’s because you know that he can’t argue with you on that point. He would’ve never accepted the gold. He’s just too proud; too convinced that he can handle anything by himself.

“Stupid.” He says bitterly, so quiet now that you can barely make it out over the noise. “I didn’t ask for this. So why?”

Honestly, you can’t really argue with him that you haven’t been stupid; at least not about the way you’ve done things, if not the reason behind it. Sitting here in this dinghy that’s threatening to sink with the cacophony of rain pelting down on your head is making you rethink every single decision you’ve made along the way.

You should’ve just said something earlier - been clearer, or more direct in getting your feelings across.

No time like the present to change that, you decide, Orcish cultural taboo be damned.

“I love you,” You pull the now slightly soggy roll of parchment out of your pocket and hold it out towards him. “And I want you to be able to choose me, if that’s what you want.”

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

------------

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

[aru-art]

fake idgafer i saw you yearning

[crownedinmarigolds]

A shiver goes up your spine as a feeling of dread envelops you. The time for spirits is at hand, which means that it's time for a Hecata family reunion! Noa Hidalgo and Nythanel Loken-Hidalgo along with their beloved coterie bid you welcome to their manor for a festive Halloween get together! Please give your love to Crystal the Nagaraja, Bravo the Tzimisce, and Cori - a vulture with more understanding in their eyes than many animals should have.

It's time for another Vampire the Masquerade community collaboration! Please please please draw your Hecata clan characters alongside ours (these characters belong to me and @thesixthplaneteer) so that the family can have a big portrait at the end of the evening!

Like the other collaborations, I will take all submissions at the deadline and smush them all into one final collab piece - the deadline will be October 30th!! (A Wednesday!) I tried to answer how to submit here in case you were curious! It would be great for you to post a PNG of your character beneath a cut when you reblog the piece just for easier management!

(For reference, Crystal is 5'5" and Bravo is 6 foot!)

IF YOU WANT TO DRAW AND FEEL LIKE YOU CANNOT DRAW DO NOT LISTEN TO THAT VOICE THAT IS THE DEVIL DECEIVING YOU! Please draw your OC next to them if you want to I would cry and love to see it!