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running-with-kn1ves · 6 months

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BELONGINGS

Orc x Kidnapped human reader (Gender neutral)

A/N: Literally NO ONE asked for this but I kept seeing all those shrek/swamp romance tiktoks and got inspired to do some orc stuff. Man I love orcs... like big dumb bugs personified. (also ignore the experimental latin pet names idk what im doing)

CW: Kidnapping, forceful holding, arson, raiding, kind of just angst fluff?

Word count: 2600

You knew the excitement of your life would never move past the blandness of day-in day-out work to survive, not as one without any bestowed or taught brow-raising talents that could lift you away from the mundane daily life you held in the wispy fields of the woodlands.

As a realist you concurred that you’d never be the breadwinner in your family, maybe not the strongest when hauling crops, or the smartest when it came to solving passed down arithmetic equations from your cousins’ old school books. But as a child you always took comfort in the thought ‘at least I won’t be chained down, won’t be tied to some ugly pig farmer for a couple shillings.’ Your family valued you that much; well-- your working hands, that much. ‘One more body is one more mouth to feed’ you were told time and time again, but you pulled your weight and then some.

You had little time to think outside of planting, weeding, bathing and eating. Meals and getting rid of the dirt covering your soles that you were scolded for after hours of being in the damp pastures were the only down time you had to yourself, not surrounded by the screaming nieces and nephews you were expected to take care of when the elder of your family members eventually passed from whatever disease ran rampant in the village the coming winter. You prepared your life, prepared for taking care of others and continuing your hard work in growing what you needed to survive, and selling what you didn’t.

Unfortunately, that humdrum future was wiped out by swirling flames and the braying of stallions of mountainous size. They came in, trampling the greening cranberry bush you were planning to keep all to yourself, and the cabbages your family would have relied on for meals for the next two months before winter fell.

Persimmon trees were burnt to crispy thorned stumps, the lush of your family’s acres now shredded to flecks of dead grass and muddy hoof prints, along with humanoid footsteps far too large to resemble any of the humans or disfigured hybrids in your teensy rural hamlet. Who were these unwelcomed strangers, the enormous creatures of the night that disrupted the only human civilization for miles around? You remained clueless for the entirety of being ripped out of your bed, continuing to be hauled over some olive-colored shoulder and thrown into a sack on the back of a wagon.

“This one.” You heard, right before your dirty finger nails were pulled away from your twin beds fading sheets you desperately tried to keep. You had even managed to bring a small, lumpy pillow along with you, the creature that slung you over their shoulder leaving no assumption of a notice. You witnessed the still-burning remnants of your frail thatched home, as the silhouette of a muscular man lowered a flamed stick to its leftovers.

The entirety of the bumpy ride to wherever your captors were bringing you to, you could only think of the fires holding onto the greenery of your land, of the dirt and rubble and smoke that clawed at your feet when you tripped into the wagon, burnt air choking you as a baby screamed out for its mother.

Hours must’ve passed before you were brought into this musky, dank room with other fading faces from your village, but it only felt like a few moments ago that you heard the crackling of a fiery tree crushing rows of perking crops.

The snapping of fingers nearly as grimy as your own blocked your recollection of clouded smoke and angry flames, bringing your attention back to the leather hut you sat domestically within. It was damp and dark inside, the light of torches outside being the only form of light. That, and the reflection of the metal on the warrior in front of you. He turned back, thumbing toward you as he looked at a similar creature.

“Agh, its no use, practically fucking deaf this one. Sure you don’t want one of the mothers?”

The other orc slapped his fellow warrior on the shoulder with a hearty laugh.

“No, my friend. Besides, sweet things’ only other option is Brutus. Don’t think he could last with one of these poor creatures without splitting it in two; ‘specially this one.”

You were suddenly and acutely aware of the orcs conversation, now that your fate was being so clearly decided in front of you.

The first, far sootier orc patted his fellow brethren on the chest as he turned away with a look that showed he was hardly convinced. Yet, he still walked out of the tented hut, ducking slightly to fit under it.

You watched him leave, feeling a sense of relief as the threat had been removed. And yet, there was still one so prevelantly in front of you.

“Hey there.” A guttural, almost faltering voice murmured to you.

Eyes growing wide, you gripped harder onto the smushed pillow in your lap, instinctively leaning your upper body backward to get away from the orcish face right in front of you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” The orc gruffed, falling to a crouch as he watches you slide to the edge of the hut’s leather wall. “Just wanna see you up close.”

He consumed the entirety of your fearful attention, his existence like a heavy weight in the room as the quiet tension aimed at him. You pushed your head painfully against a wood pole behind the leather walls, trying to morph your body any distance away that would provide you a miniscule fraction of comfort. But none came, especially not when a sudden warm finger pushed into your cheek. The green thumb pulled your upper lip, showing the ends of your teeth. Your other cheek smushed into your eye as the orc did the same to the other side, observing your poor excuse for chompers compared to his large, well-groomed tusks.

“Guess these’ll do. You can atleast chew meat, right?” he pulled your jaw open gently, making your lips part. “Don’t wanna have to feed you like a baby bird; though, that wouldn’t be the worst of troubles.”

You slapped his hand away, grimacing at the idea of being fed by this beast-creature.

“I can eat perfectly fine.” You grumble, noticing how stiff the orcs arm was, still holding out beside your face as it rests dejected. “What does that matter, aren’t you going to eat me anyway?”

You keep a frown on your face, glaring up at the crouched brute.

He let out a hearty laugh, those around you turning away from their miserable memories to face the strident disturbance.

“So cute, as if you’d be enough to feed an orcling!” He let out another chestful of a laugh, grabbing at your cheek this time with a pinch. “My little to-be spouse, I knew you’d be worth the trouble.”

Wincing in pain, your fingers came up to try and pry his rough, printless thumb off your salty skin.

“So adorable,” He throatily squealed, dragging you closer by the cheek to stumble into his chest. The only thing covering the caverned flesh of deep holes and ravined slices in his skin were straps of bull leather, and the furs of cottontails sewn to form a thin shawl around his bulky shoulders.

He smelled of a foreign musk, the slight piquant scent of his skin being swallowed in by your nostrils as your lips smushed against the dip in the middle of his chest. Something sharp poked into the side of your face as you were held tightly against the orc, making you muffle against him to let you go.

“You’re right you’re right; we should have some privacy-- and you, should get a chance to see your new home. My home.” He huffed against your ear, humid breath making your neck sweat as tusks touched the top of your head. “Name’s Xerxes, don’t forget it-- make sure you tell it to any orcs that try n’ talk to you.”

“Wait now--” Your aimed attempt of protesting was cut wrongly short by the sudden grab of your ankles, Xerxes beginning to stand back up as he dragged you with him. Before you knew it you were upside down, hollering as fat fingers made their way around your tibia. A shoulder jutted into your soft stomach, throat heaving as Xerxes began to move. You saw your lone pillow left on the ground, growing farther away as the large legs belonging to your captor moved from below your vision.

With every huge step he took, the harsh necklaces of teeth (which you prayed belonged to animals) dug into your side-- huh, so that must’ve been what was scraping against your face earlier. They clinked together as he walked, his body so rigid and unorthodox that he made a sound whenever he moved, whether it be a snorted grunt or the stomp from his feet, or the shift of his clothes and sheathed weapons.

Xerxes didn’t open the leather flap of the hut sahe carried you out, walking straight as it brushed across your head. You shut your eyes in an unavoidable flinch, but the orc hardly noticed as he adjusted you on his shoulder, grabbing right below your thighs to hold you steady.

The brilliant idea of beating and scratching his back enough to get free was so enticing you were on the brink of trying it-- but the orc standing outside the hut you just left, the unfamilliar darkness of the grasslands surrounding you, made you think twice.

And just like that, your world spun and you were tossed inside what must’ve been another tent, a blur of oranges from fiery torches and grey browns of animal hide entering your vision. Something soft hit your back as you let out an ‘oof!’ from the depths of your chest.

You scrambled to get back up, alert now that you were thrown in some different environment. But as you clambered to look around, whipping your head from side to side, all you saw were reddish walls of leather and two warm torches, along with the occasional spread of a map or a scribed foreign language.

This tent was much smaller than the last, not meant for a community to rest in. Instead, it was about the snug and spacious size of a room for only one to sleep in. The softness of hairs touched your palms, layers upon layers of furs covering beneath you to create a small lump of a warm, makeshift bed.

“Look at this,” An excited, guttural voice begged of you. “Been keeping it since forever; saw it in some… abandoned goblin grotto, once. Couldn’t help but take it with me as a memento. As soon as I saw it, I just knew it’d be the perfect gift for my future amasiuncula.”

You could taste the lie on your tongue, as if it was thick in the air once he spoke it. Orcs didn’t just ‘find’ things, the destruction of your teensy village showed you that much. But that didn’t matter, not when the piercing blue of a silk fabric dazzled at you. Why, you had never seen something so plush in your life. It was surely just a base blanket-like piece likely once spooled for the future of becoming some sort of clothing or undergarment; it was still so silkenly smooth nonetheless. Your fingers traced the perfect fabric, its sensation nothing you had ever felt in your years of living as a farming peasant. The softest thing you’d ever touched were the baby calfs your far neighbors had bred into existence.

“See how soft it is?” Xerxes said with a slight sputter, bringing the silk to your cheek. “Like a cloud… it’s yours. My engagement present.”

You looked back up at him bewildered. “Engagement?”

“A present. Orc tradition is to offer a gift of richness; the wealthiest thing I could get my hands on.” He covered you in the silk, wrapping your shoulders in it as he pulled you from the furs to his bare lap. You would’ve resisted given the chance, but the orc smugly kept the silk around your arms, bringing the other side of it to wrap around you, pulling it tight; you could hardly move yourself now, shoved in this warm softness of a cocoon; it frightened you. But the tusks pressed against your cheek, chewed lips touching your temple as a tongue gently poked out to swiftly press against your skin, made you fear something else more. “Always wanted a human..” The orc exhaled, audibly sniffing in the scent of your hair. “Been looking for a good once for a while now. One that’ll be nice and docile, a sweet little foal for me to enjoy--”

You slid your arms against the suffocating silk that was beginning to build heat. “I don’t think i’m what you’re looking for, besides I’m not--”

“Oh but you are,” Xerxes cut you off, leaning his orcish face close to yours to make you look at him. “So.. soft, your skin is like obsidian smoothed and frosted by the tumbling of waves of the sea, so polished and spotted I can’t help but want to keep it in between my fingers.”

Beads hung low by his neck, attached to rings of metal that pierced large holes in his pointed ears. The black and silver balls that dangled would jingle when he moved his head to get a better look at you, along with the wire and metal ornaments wrapped around the braids in his hair. Despite the undercut he fashioned (that you could see better now), a great mane of thick brown hair traveled to his shoulders, tickling your neck as he squeezed you closer. You felt almost like a baby, swaddled and pressed close to his large beating heart that thumped against your shoulder.

“And oh your dainty little fingers and toes, when I saw them peeking from your bedsheets I knew grabbing them with would be no mistake.”

The orc nuzzled into you with his flat nose, warmth spreading against your cheeks as his sunken face created friction. You always sort of thought your fingers were quite round, your toes a little mishappen, but compared to him, your entirety was merely like a child’s straw doll’s.

“I don’t want to marry you!” You blurted, freezing as the orc kept himself nestled against you. “I wanna go home, I want to go back to my bed and forget this-- I'm not some little trinket to mate with!"

Xerxes gave you a look. It was so smushy, an embarrassed grin like some pubescent boy watching his crush undress. It was perverted, so snickeringly crude as he bit his lip at the word "mate."

Ahh, he heard his fellow warriors, his chief in command even, discuss their "mates" with lustful wonder and candied eyes that danced with images of their beloved, their spouse. He had never had a person, never had a soft warm thing at night to hold, for him to bully himself into; it was hard to contain the joy inside of him, even with your rapid repeating of "no no no!"

"Mate…" He repeated.

"I said NOT to--"

"But you said it; and now… I can't get it out of my head, dulcis." Xerxes was snug against your wiggling chest, pressing his freckled cheek against yours to make your lips pucker. He was unbelievably, fiery warm, with a heat under his skin that you wondered was just a layer of embers.

The mixture of the orcs body heat and the humid equinox night made sweat cling to your dirty skin, the satin coddling you now feeling stickier. “Now, I s’pose its time we get you looking like a proper orc, smelling like one too. Like me,” Xerxes pressed his tusked mouth below your ear, protruding lips pressing a deep, slightly nipping kiss to below the corner of your jaw. “Get rid of this disgusting… exhilarating human stench.”

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fantasy-anatomy-analyst · 3 months

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Making Humanoids Less Human

I did make a small post on this, but now I've got the art for a much bigger and more detailed post! so here we go.

I had several anonymous asks that all came in quick succession weeks ago. Every single one of them was basically just a variation on "how would you take (typically humanoid) fantasy being, and make them look less human?"

This blog does not exist for me to just give people original designs for free, my goal is to show off my own personal thoughts about fantasy design and help people figure out how to adjust their own designs to fit their vision better. That means when people ask me questions about how to do something, I want to give them things to think about so they can come to their own conclusion. I don't mind making original designs to illustrate concepts, but a whole flood of "show me how to make this specific thing look different" all at once like that was too much. I'm not answering them all individually, it's just not what I want to do.

But what I can do is show my own thoughts and ideas about how to take any fantasy design and push it further away from "human", and you all can look at my ideas and figure out your own way to do things!

So here are the main 4 methods I've come up with to make humanoids look less human.

(image description: a simplified drawing of a humanoid face surrounded by four altered versions of the same face. clockwise starting from the top left, they are:

Speculative, drawn as a cat person. Additive, drawn with horns, pointy ears, sharp teeth, and a second pair of eyes. Subtractive, drawn with blank eyes, no nose, and no eyebrows. Exaggerative, drawn with a long face and huge eyes, as well as a wide mouth, narrow nose, and big ears.

end description)

I am personally a fan of the speculative route, which means exploring an alternate root of evolution to create a new design. Through this method, I've created monkey elves, frog goblins, and pig orcs.

the additive option is the most common, I think. adding new feature or doubled features to a humanoid form is a very intuitive way to change the design and make it look less human. you see this in most fantasy and scifi designs, like star trek aliens and the dnd player races.

subtractive and evaggerative are the most common options for people that like the uncanny valley. it's really easy to make uncomfortable designs by removing or exaggerating recognizable features, and they're often used together. Slenderman, for example, removes all facial features and skin color but also exaggerates the limbs and body.

Combining the four methods will give you a really interesting design as well! So for practice I decided to explore an alternate design for Tieflings, the part-demon player race in dnd.

(image description: four examples of differnt tiefling designs using the previously described methods. the additive example is just offical dnd art of a tiefling woman with purple skin, horns, and a long tail.

the subtractive sketch looks very alien, with a bald head, empty eyes, and no other facial featuers aside from a small mouth. it has three fingers per hand and two toe per foot.

the exaggerative sketch shows a hunched humanoid figure with huge eyes and big ears. the neck, limbs, and digits are all long with claws at the ends of the fingers and toes, and the limbs are also quite muscular.

the speculative sketch shows a bipedal figure with features similar to a giraffe, including a long neck, ossicones, and hooves.

end description)

now, because tielflings have such a distinct look to them, obviously my new sketches don't really look like tieflings, do they? the only one that comes close is the giraffe. relying only on one type of alteration to the human form has left the designs rather empty and lacking in the more iconic traits of the original concept. so i tried a sketch that combined my ideas! it came out looking like a completely different creature lol, like it could be a kobold or something, still not really a tiefling.

(image description: a sketch of a creature with a giraffe-like head, long tongue, and sharp teeth. it appears to be roaring at something and stands in a half-crouch. it has long limbs with hoof feet and clawed hands, as well as a long tufted tail curled behind it. end description.)

didn't work out. too far into the animal side of the speculative evolution, I think. so I tried again and got a design I liked much better!

(image description: a digital painting of a tiefling leaping back and casting a glowing orange spell. she is wearing a tunic with a corset and detached sleeves, as well as several pieces of jewelry. Her skin is purple with dark patches like a giraffe's spots, and she has a giraffe's ossicones as well as hoof-like hands and two-toed hoof feet. Her tail is long with a tuft at the end. She has glowing eyes and a flat nose, and there is a single sharp tooth visible poking out of the side of her mouth. end description.)

Brought the face back into slightly more human proportions and that helped a lot. Sometimes designs just take a few tries! that's normal.

and hopefully this is helpful to all of you! there are so many ways to alter humanoid designs to come up with something original and unique to you!

#humanoids #making humanoids less human #altered humanoids #non primate humanoids #tiefling #long post #my designs #and btw ai cannot do this #does not matter how detailed you prompt it #it can't really get things to look this original and unique #it can't really blend different features like this in a way that makes sense #you have this power #the computers cannot replicate it

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oldschoolfrp · 11 months

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David Sutherland's pig-faced orcs with diverse polearms and a unique shield style, rounded at the top and square at the bottom. The shields may have been inspired by certain ancient Egyptian designs, or some Mycenaean tower shields often associated with the Trojan War. They also resemble a smaller version of some pavises of the 14th-15th century, designed to be propped on the ground in front of a crowsbowman. (From the 1977 AD&D Monster Manual and the 1976 wargame Swords & Spells; previously: 1, 2, 3, 4)

#D&D #Dungeons & Dragons #David Sutherland #pig faced orcs #orcs #orc #pig faced orc #AD&D #Monster Manual #Swords & Spells #dnd #ogre #giant #Evil High Priest #EHP #evil cleric #battle #Dungeons and Dragons #TSR

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jimenez-madrid-art · 2 months

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>An anarcho-capitalist orc wants to talk business with you!

>(grumbling) "...Bitcoin is the new gold..."

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plussizefantasia · 7 months

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Gentle Hands

Flufftober Day 4: Playing with Their Hair

Thorin Oakenshield x f!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

AN: This is a long one, you guys. I don't know what it is about Throin that just makes me not be able to stop writing. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but I needed to get it posted today. As always, please reblog if you enjoyed the story!

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

Being the queen of Erebor had its ups and downs. The long and arduous meetings were a pain, especially as you were often the only woman present. Sometimes Dis would be kind enough to join you as she knew how much you detested the stuffy dwarf lords who looked down at you, but she had other duties that required her attention and could not always be there to be a buffer.

You wouldn’t trade your crown for the world though, because the crown came with Thorin. Your One, the absolute love of your life, your other half, your soulmate. Sometimes he was the only thing that kept you going, that gave you strength to deal with the pig-headed dwarf lords from the Blue Mountains. He was your reason, and you were his. You battled with him side by side to get him where he is today. You journeyed with him to reclaim the mountain, you stayed by his side even when he was overtaken by the dragon sickness, and you sat vigil at his bedside when the rest of the kingdom feared he wouldn’t survive the wounds inflicted upon him by the white orc.

You take care of each other. You have since the first time you met and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. When the two of you got married and you took the title of Queen you both quickly realized that there was very little time left in the day for both of you to spend together. The time apart hurt you both and a decision had to be made.

Several long discussions later had led you two to the routine you had today. Your days ended about an hour before he did. In that hour you would make sure that dinner was served for the two of you in your chambers and ensure that everything was ready for the both of you when it was time to get ready for sleep.

The two of you would share dinner together, in private, and speak about your days. Yu would tell each other the good and the bad and be there for one another throughout the highs and the lows. By doing this you kept the bond between the two of you strong and made sure that each other was the best they could be.

That night, Thorin had walked in right as the last maid had finished placing the last tray of food at your table. She bowed to her King as she left the room and shut the large wooden door behind her. You stood and walked towards your lover looping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. He did the same, placing his hands upon your waist he pulled you into him and the two of you rested your foreheads together.

You stayed like this for a moment before pulling apart. As you pulled away you could feel the brush of Thorin’s lips on your face and the soft caress of his facial hair that followed.

“You look ravishing tonight ghivashel.” He spoke aloud, holding out one hand to you. When you took it, he spun you gently getting a full view of the dark blue dress that adorned your body. It was not one of the fanciest dresses that you had but it hugged you in all the right places. And Thorin loved the color on you, it complemented his family colors and he thought you looked exquisite every time he saw you in it.

“You look wonderful as well amralime” You responded, leading your love to the table which was full of food. That was something that you had to get used to when you became Queen, the amount of things at your disposal.

You had not been royalty in the Blue Mountains where you and Throin had met for the first time. You were the daughter of Blue Mountain’s most knowledgeable and well-liked historians, also a good friend of Balin's which is what had garnered your family an invitation to the youngest prince’s naming ceremony all those years ago. Now you lived a life of luxury, one that Thorin had assured you that you deserved, but one that was difficult to get used to nonetheless. Every dinner was a feast where the table in your chambers would be stacked high with meat, bread, and cheese. There was always a cask of wine around and some sort of dessert severed in excess. You and Throin were never able to eat it all and it made you feel the tiniest bit guilty every time you saw what was sent back to the kitchens.

On the table rested a tray full of braised lamb, some roasted potatoes, a basket full of rolls, some sort of stew in a still steaming pot, a jar of honey and a ball of some kind of herb spread, and a tray of Thorin’s favorite dessert, honey cakes. There was no way that the two of you would be able to finish all the food on the table but you sat and began to eat regardless.

“How was your day ghivashel?” Asked Thorin once you both had had a chance to eat some.

“Tiring as always my love, but I did manage to have a breakthrough with some of the Lords that Dain has sent over to negotiate. They are certainly not happy with me, but I believe we have an understanding now.”

Thorin smiled at this, he had no doubt when he asked you to marry him that you would make a wonderful Queen and he has yet to be proven wrong. He admires you greatly, you were not bred to be royalty as he was, but you seem to have taken to it like a fish to water.

“I knew you could do it, darling, you are the strongest woman I know.”

“Do not let Dis hear you say that she would have your beard.” The two of you laughed and you soaked in the loveliness of the evening.

You both continued to talk through your days, offering advice when needed and celebrating the other's accomplishments with joy.

“You look tired ghivashel, shall we get ready for bed?” Thorin asked you, placing his hand on your elbow and looking into your eyes. You sighed and nodded pushing yourself up from the table and into your husband’s arms.

He guided you towards the bath chambers and helped you ease out of your dress. There was a hint of lust in his eyes but you both knew that nothing would come out of it. Thorin wanted you anytime he saw you, it was very unlikely for there not to be a small amount of lust in his eyes whenever they were on you. You were the same way, you could easily recognize how handsome your husband was. He was broad and built, corded muscles would tightly beneath his skin. And his hair, Mahal his hair was one of your favorite things about him. The deep color complemented his complexion and the grays that kissed his temples and flowed through the rest of his locks made it shine. Silver was one of your favorite types of metals and to see it woven in amongst your husband's mane made it all the more attractive.

Thorin placed his hand in the emerald bath, to test the temperature of the water. When he was sure that it would not burn you he helped you lower yourself into the tub and submerge yourself in the waters. You have recently begun to have the maids add rose water to your baths as well, knowing how soft the extracts made your skin feel and how much you loved the smell in your hair.

Thorin rolled up the sleeves of his white undershirt and lathered the hair soap in his hands. This was his favorite part of the night when he got to take care of you. He cherished you and would give you the world if he could. Washing your hair for you was the best way he knew to show his love. He knew you loved the way his hands carded through your hair. He could tell by the way your shoulders would fall and you would let his hands hold the weight of your head.

As he delicately washes your hair for you, you begin to wash the rest of your body. Using scented soaps imported from Rivendell you clean your body from the dirt of the day. When Throin finishes rinsing out your hair, and you are done washing up, he leaves your side to go grab your dressing gown and help you into it.

You place a kiss on his cheek as you pass him on the way out of the bath. He is getting ready to get into it and clean himself for the night. When you return to the larger open room of your chambers you sit at your vanity and begin to prepare yourself for sleep. You know that Throin doesn’t usually take too long in the bath, the two of you have timed this out pretty well so that he usually ends at the same time you do.

When he finally emerges from the bath, he is dressed in his black sleep shirt and a soft pair of trousers. His raven locks are still wet, they are not dripping onto the floor as he’s already gone through them with a cloth. You know that he is as eager as you are for the last step of your nightly routine. He rounds to his side of the bed and takes a seat on top of the covers. His back is facing you and he begins to settle himself. You grab the brush and the hair oil that he loves and lift yourself up onto the bed as well.

Thorin washes your hair for you, and you re-braid his for him. It is the way for you two to reassure each other that the love you have is strong. The dwarven tradition of braiding your One’shair is one that you and he both enjoy.

You drip the oil onto the roots of his hair and with your fingers rake it down and through his tresses. You will admit that you do more playing with your husband’s hari than is strictly necessary but if the way Thorin is practically purring, you don’t think he minds.

Once you feel that his hair is free of tangles and sufficiently oiled you begin to take the sections into your hands that hold the braids. One of his braids is a marriage braid and it is the one you take the most time with. The others denote his status as king, his family line, and his victories in battle. After all the years of marriage, these braids are second nature to you and you’re pretty sure you could do it in your sleep if you wanted.

Your love for Thorin is felt by the way your hands move. You never pull his hair and your movements are always slow and gentle. You take care of him, more than just doing his hair, you hold his heart in your gentle hands as well.

When you finish you place a kiss on your husband's temple and hand the brush you used over to him to place back on his side of the room. He does so without complaint. You slip under the covers and get comfortable while Thorin blows out the candles in the room. When he joins you he pulls your body closer to his and the two of you just lay together. Getting comfort from the other without needing words.

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #fluff #x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #the hobbit #hobbit fic #thorin oakenshield x reader

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littleapocalypsekitten · 6 months

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Love is Inevitable

Cross-posted to my original writeblr, Rusted Dreams Stories Posted here because I think more people see me here, but please consider giving my writeblr a follow / reblog from there. One of those "Humans are Space Orcs" "Humans are Weird" type of stories, only instead of admiring us for our physical-endurance abilities, an alien species admires our emotional resilience.

Love is Inevitable In the ages since contact had been made with the Earth and the human species, the other rational races of the Pan-Galactic Alliance had their various reasons for either abhorring or admiring them. A great many of the peoples admired Humanity for their general physical endurance – the ability to recover quickly from wounds and to withstand conditions that would kill a great many beings. However, the Mhrr’ah held them in awe for a very different kind of endurance. First contact between the two species was a bit awkward because humans could not help but compare the Mhrr’ah to a certain kind of pet animal they kept. “Kitty!” - They resembled bipedal cats save for the small horns upon their heads, longer, boxier faces and notable biological differences such as reproduction through eggs. In turn, the Mhrr’ah compared humans to the golb, a small, bald, purplish-colored animal they kept as friends, although they were arguably more pig-like or doggish. Their respective choice of pets, strangely, was what had started conversation which led to the Mhrr’ah thinking of humans as particularly tough. The Mhrr’ah were rather appalled that humans kept companion animals that did not match their own lifespans. They were even more confounded by the ability of human beings to pick up and keep working and living after the loss of kin. The Mhrr’ah were highly emotional beings. As soon as they had grown, they tended to part ways with their parents, but stayed in touch with their clutch-mates. They formed attachments with mates and friends of similar health-status and age (and they did live long, by the human reckoning) so as to maximize the likelihood of a life together. Most forms of conflict on their planet were a distant memory of ancestral forms because of this peculiar type of empathy. If one Mhrr’ah in a friend or family group died, the rest of their strong attachments was sure to follow. It was almost unheard of for one to lose a life-mate and not to have their own body shut down in pure despair within months of the event. Conversations with humans brought up widows, those who had lost brothers, best friends, parents and animal companions time and again. Humans spoke to them of Stages of Grief and of the ways they’d sought out each other to support themselves through it. They spoke of ghost stories and mythical lands of the dead where some hoped to be reunited someday with those they’d loved. The Mhrr’ah, who did not understand how one could fall, but not the others in one’s chosen circle would bow their heads in salute to the resilient human explorers and tradesmen they’d met if they ever had a sad story. And that is to say nothing of other tales the humans told them – the loss of homes, the loss of friends though things other than death, various mental breakdowns that they could recover from. This, to them, was far more impressive than any physical endurance that humans ever had. The Mhrr’ah were a people who were careful to keep to small circles and careful to keep themselves safe. They tried to distance themselves from forming friendships with humans even as they’d formed partnerships of mutual benefit simply because they knew that humans felt strong emotions, too, but were shorter lived than they were. A human might keep a Mhrr’ah in their memory if they’d loved and lost a friend, but a Mhrr’ah would not be capable of it for long. In the end, they’d even formed attachments with pets knowing that they would outlive them by many spans. When asked, the humans said something that resonated with all Mhrr’ah. “We really can’t help it. Love is inevitable.”

#hfy #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are amazing #science fiction #short stories #short story #original short story #cat-people #cross-posted #fiction

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