#thank you for sharing ice orcs with me

[ameliathornromance]

“What happened to you?!”

Your Orc Boyfriend sat by the tribe healer. Gashes that started at his forehead and go across his face. Blood dripped down and onto his chest, which was bruised and transitioning into a purple hue in certain areas.

You went to rush over, to cup his face, examine him from head to toe, but the healer held a hand out to you. “I know it looks serious,” he said, “but they’re surface level.”

As you opened your mouth to protest, your Orc Boyfriend grunted, “I’ll be fine, love.” He gave you a pained smile. Even as his face oozed with blood, he still tried to reassure you. “I’ll come see you in a minute.”

He loved this about you. Everything was so different now that you were around. Before you and your Orc got together, when Orcs returned injured, they were told to endure it from their others. No sympathy given. Healers would provide Orcs with a pack of ice in a leather sack and send them on their way.

It started when one day, your Orc came back to camp with a bloody nose. You had instantly run over, "Oh my God, are you okay?!" Everyone had stared, startled by your reaction. But when you started tending to your partner's wounds, the camp seemed to follow your lead.

Orcs were now afforded more luxuries than before, being fed soup if they were immobilised temporarily or being washed by someone they were close to when they couldn't reach certain areas.

But your Orc Boyfriend, always did his best to come back intact. Despite the sweetness of your concern, he couldn't bear witnessing your distress over his injuries. 

This time, he was too careless. 

At that sight of your reluctant scowl, your Orc Boyfriend’s heart ached. He wished he had been more careful.

But you turned away and went back to your shared tent. 

He came in later, his face lined with stitches and his chest wrapped up with cloth. Your Orc groaned as he laid in bed beside you, scrunching his face up in pain. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked him over. “What happened?” Your voice was muted, small.

“Highway men.” He said.

They had jumped him while he was trying to find his hunting party. Your Orc had got separated when he’d tried to go after a stag. He emerged out onto a popular path taken by humans, looking around for his prey.

But a second was all it took for the humans to attack him.

The men were more vicious that most humans he’d fought, with weapons imbued with some kind of magical properties. One human delivered such a powerful blow to his chest that he thought his ribs had broken.

Your Orc got out by the skin of his tusks, and that was only thanks to another Orc finding him and helping him beat the snot out of the Highwaymen. 

You bit your lip at that and cast a look down at his chest. It had turned black now.

“It’ll heal.” He assured you. “It’ll take more than a few humans to kill me. Don’t worry.” Your Orc shifted and pulled something out from his belt pocket. “Here, for you.”

You gasped. Clutched between your Orc’s meaty green fingers was a small, golden band. A red ruby sat on top of the gold, catching in the dim candlelight. “We took their plunders, this was among it… And I thought of you.”

At your hesitation, your Orc offered it, “I promise I’ll be more careful when I go out in the next few weeks. See this as a pledge of that.” 

Biting your lip, you sighed. Your eyes traced the stitches on his face. You wanted to run your fingers across them, hoping that your touch could heal them. 

Taking the ring, you kissed the ruby. “You promise?” holding the ring to his lips.

Your Orc smiled and kissed it. “I swear on my life.”

[mimilind]

Sent to Middle-earth - Part 3

♡ ♡ ♡  

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2500

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♡ ♡ ♡ 

3. To Rivendell

On your way to the throne room, you noticed Legolas' back straighten. Like he was bracing himself for meeting his father.

This time when entering the elegant hall, you felt less scruffy. You had bathed, and the tunic you borrowed from Legolas was still clean. And your hair probably looked nice with the braids he had made on you.

“My lord, the prisoner has escaped,” said Legolas stiffly. 

Two red spots appeared on Thranduil’s pale cheeks. “Escaped?”

“Aye. I am sorry.” Legolas told him about the orcs’ surprise attack and his suspicion it had all been planned.

Thranduil’s face looked like it was carved in ice. “How come the orcs surprised you?” His voice was controlled, like he fought hard not to yell. 

“I was not paying attention to the surroundings,” Legolas admitted. “I did not believe such a small creature could cause any trouble.” 

You wanted to tell him not to be so honest. Why not smoothing it over? That’s what you would have done.

“I see.” The frost in his voice made you shiver. “And what do you suggest I tell Gandalf? He trusted the prisoner in our care. How humiliating.”

“I am sorry,” Legolas repeated. “My guards are tracking Sméagol. With luck, they will catch him.”

Thranduil sighed, and some of the tension left his rigid form. “Well then. Since you put me in this situation, if the prisoner is not caught, you tell the wizard. Elrond should know where to find him. You will bring the news to Imladris yourself.”

Legolas bowed. “Aye, my lord.” He met your gaze. This was just what you had said. 

“Why is the human here?” Thranduil looked at you like you were something the cat had dragged in.

“I do have a name,” you said, affronted by his manners – or rather, lack thereof.

“Come.” Legolas was already halfway out of the door, obviously not wanting to stay longer than necessary.

When you had left the Elvenking’s hall, Legolas followed you to your room. He seemed a bit subdued after the row with his father.

“Why did you make it sound like it was your fault?” you asked.

“Because it was. I was in charge of my company, but instead of staying alert we shared a meal. Had I not been… busy, I might have heard the orcs sooner and prevented it.”

You felt your cheeks heat. He had been busy making braids on you. Still, he was too harsh on himself.

“Even if you had heard them sooner, you would still have to fight the orcs, and Sméagol would have escaped. It was an accident.”

He smiled weakly. “Maybe. Either way, what is done, is done. No need to dwell on it.” He politely opened your door for you. “Now, get some rest, and hopefully your hip will feel better tomorrow.”

♡ ♡ ♡

As predicted, the guards did not catch Gollum, and it was decided Legolas should carry the news of his escape to Imladris. By now, your hip had healed so well you could walk with only a cane for support, and Thranduil ordered his son to make a stop on the way and return you to the elf family where you lived. It was clear the Elvenking did not want a human in his halls longer than necessary. 

You did not complain – quite the contrary. You wanted to go, but all the way to Elrond’s realm of course. You just had to persuade Legolas it was a good idea to bring you there. 

Legolas had been busy searching for the prisoner, so you had not seen much of him since Sméagol’s escape. Therefore, when it was finally time to leave and he came to pick you up, you were both excited and a bit nervous. 

You had not gone far when a tall elf met you in the corridor. To your surprise it was Thranduil himself, coming to see his son off. You hoped they would not part as enemies, considering it would be a long while until they met again.

The Elvenking was elegantly garbed as usual, but he was not wearing his crown, and there were no courtiers following him. 

“May you have a safe journey,” he said.

“Thank you.” Legolas bowed politely.

You wanted to yell at them to not be so stiff and formal and hug each other already. You were sure they needed it.

“Do not linger too long. Deliver the message and return here as fast as you can.”

Legolas' eyes briefly flickered in your direction. “I shall try,” he said noncommittally. Did he remember you said he would join the Fellowship, and realize he might be gone for a long time?

“If you meet the wizard, do not let him talk you into another stupid scheme. I shudder to think of what he and Elrond can come up with together. Next, they will probably send us an orc to guard – or worse, a dwarf.” Thranduil paused, and his expression became softer than you had ever seen it before. “And… be careful. I only have one son, you know.”

“I will.” Legolas pressed his arm briefly. “Farewell, Father.” The look on his face made your chest feel too tight.

“Farewell, Legolas.” The Elvenking’s elegant coat billowed as he turned away, but not fast enough to hide the mist in his eyes. And then he was gone.

♡ ♡ ♡

To your pleasant surprise, it was more than easy to persuade Legolas to bring you along with him – it was even he who suggested it. 

“So far, your history books were true: Sméagol escaped, and now I am sent to Imladris. I need to know the rest of what will happen, and I am sure Elrond will want to hear it as well.”

The ride took a couple of weeks, and you used the time to tell Legolas the whole story while his accompanying guards stayed out of hearing range. 

When you had finished, you discussed at length who else to tell. Should you, for example, tell Boromir? It might save his life if you did. And should you tell the other members of the future Fellowship, to spare them the grief of Gandalf’s apparent demise? But what if they then did things differently, and it ruined the quest?

In the end, you decided it was best to first tell Elrond, who was very wise, and let him decide.

♡ ♡ ♡

Imladris, or Rivendell, as men called it, was the most beautiful place you had ever seen. Everywhere you looked were lovely gardens, flowerbeds and sparkling fountains, and the air was full of birdsong. The houses were painted in light colors, with decorative wood carvings and many balconies on ornate pillars.

Shortly after your arrival, Lord Elrond received you in his study. Just as Legolas, his movie persona was only a weak shadow of his real self. Like all elves he was very handsome, and looked neither young nor old – but there was a depth in his eyes, speaking of fathomless years and much wisdom. In addition, he seemed exceptionally kind. You instantly liked him.

After hearing your tale, Elrond was silent for a long time before speaking. As the minutes ticked by, you nervously fingered a loose thread on Legolas' tunic which you still wore. What would his decision be?

“You did the right thing to come to me with this,” he said at last. “I have pondered at length over how to proceed, and come to the conclusion it must remain a secret. As much as I regret that this means some will die, it is a war after all, and losses are expected. I cannot risk changing anything and perhaps ruin our victory. It’s a good thing only Legolas knows, who seems to have a lesser role in the coming events – if he keeps his mouth shut, the quest will proceed the way it is meant to.”

“What happens to me?”

“You stay here, of course.”

“But I–”

“You are no warrior. You will stay.” His gaze was steady and his voice firm, and you knew a lost cause when you saw one. You sighed.

His ancient eyes filled with sympathy. “Do not feel disheartened. At least you already know your friend will survive, and you shall be reunited soon.” The way he emphasized the word ‘friend’ made it clear his perceptive eyes had picked up on your feelings.

After your meeting, you went to look for Legolas, and not surprisingly found him wandering in the beautiful gardens. 

You told him what Elrond had said, and added rather glumly: “I wish I could go with you.”

“It’s a dangerous quest,” he objected.

“I already know what dangers there will be. I can stay out of trouble.”

He only smiled, and changed the subject. “It’s so beautiful here!” He swept out with his hand towards some maples, covered in multicolored autumn shrouds.

You looked at him. “Mm. Very beautiful.” You were not referring to the trees.

He glanced at you, his cheeks coloring slightly. You knew your feelings were probably written all over you, but did not care if you were obvious. He would leave soon, and you would be alone here, and he might as well know the truth before he went. 

You angrily kicked away an innocent stone from your path.

“Ai! Chin up. I know what will cheer you up,” he said, taking your hand. You enjoyed his touch, but your spirits were still down and you followed him with rather heavy feet. 

He led you to what appeared to be a larder. “I shall sneak in and grab something tasty, and then we have a nice picnic.”

When he had left, you rested your back against the wooden wall, arms crossed over your chest. You were not going to be bribed into happiness so easily. Food. Pah! 

Almost smugly, you noticed some dark clouds above the yellow and red treetops; bad weather coming in. There goes his stupid picnic!

Legolas returned with a basket and a flagon of wine. 

“It’s going to rain,” you said sourly. 

“Then we have an indoor picnic.” He took your hand again. “Come!”

Legolas brought you to the apartment Elrond had assigned him; a spacious suite with a living room, bedroom and even an indoor bathroom. Your own quarters were much simpler, but then, you were not a prince.

He took a floral blanket from his bed and spread it on the floor, and placed the basket in the middle. “There. Let’s pretend this is a beautiful lawn full of daisies!” 

His winsome smile melted away the last of your resistance, and you sat cross legged opposite to him, accepting a cup of wine and a full plate. 

“Sorry if I seem ungrateful,” you said, nibbling a piece of dried fruit.

“I understand. Truly, I wish it were different.” His gaze met yours. “I shall miss you.”

“It’s worse for the one left behind.”

“I imagine it is.”

You ate and drank in silence for a while. The sound of rain on the window mingled with sweet music in the distance; perhaps coming from the Hall of Fire in the adjacent building. 

The room was growing dark, and Legolas lit a wax candle. In its flickering light he was almost ethereally handsome; his eyes dark and deep as the ocean, and his blonde strands glowing like molten gold. 

He sidled closer to you, and you mimicked his maneuver, and soon there was no distance left. 

Tentatively you took his hand, and traced the lines inside his palm with your finger. He shivered, and your eyes met. Catching your hand, he kissed it, his gaze still locked in yours. The air around you felt thick and charged with power.

You could not have said who started it, but suddenly your faces were very close and your lips met. It only lasted a moment before both retracted a bit, making sure the other was willing to continue. Clearly you were. 

This time he cupped your cheek, stroking it while kissing you deeper than before, and you felt his tongue tentatively touch your lower lip. You opened your mouth and allowed him in, while burying your fingers in his soft hair. 

He touched your ear again, and his lips left your mouth to kiss it lightly. Then he trailed a series of pecks down your neck.

“I thought…” you began, but broke off when he reached your collarbone. It felt so good, and you drew in a breath. 

“Thought what?” His voice was husky.

“I thought you could not do this. That it means… Means…”

He stilled his motions, his lips still on your neck. “Actually… it does, and I shouldn’t.” 

You wished you had not said anything, but to your relief you felt him kiss your collarbone again, and his hand slid around to stroke your back. 

Pulling up his tunic, you explored his smooth skin underneath, and felt him do the same on you. Your heart was beating fast, and by now both of you were becoming a bit breathless.

You got a crazy idea, and your mouth decided to speak it out loudly: “If we were married Elrond might let me join the quest.”

He was nipping your earlobe and his voice tickled your ear as he replied: “I think not.”

“Then I could sneak out and follow you. He can’t lock me in, can he?” You undid the top button of his tunic, and the next one.

Cupping your cheek, he held you out so he could look you in the eye. “Are you serious?”

“Of course! I don't want to be left behind.”

“I meant… about marriage.” 

“Oh.” Were you serious? What you were doing right now was basically the equivalent of starting the walk down the aisle. If you went all the way with Legolas, then according to elvish customs he would be your husband. Forever. Did you want that?

Yes. Yes of course! You wanted Legolas, body and soul. You wanted to be married to him.

“I’m serious,” you said earnestly, taking his hand and pressing it.

You could not quite interpret his expression as he met your gaze, but then the corner of his lip turned up. “My father will kill me.” He bent forward and kissed you lightly. “First I leave on a lengthy and dangerous mission – quite opposite to his instructions – and then I return with a human spouse.”

“So you say yes, then?” You heard your voice tremble.

“I do.” He scooped you up in his arms, and carried you into the bedroom. “I do,” he repeated, placing you on the bed and sealing his words with a deep, eager kiss. 

Filled with a joy so strong you thought you might burst, you hungrily kissed him back. 

And thus you were wed like elves sometimes are, without betrothal ceremonies or rings – just the two of you, and the union of your bodies.

♡ ♡ ♡

The final, optional part will not be safe for work. ;)

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[esta-elavaris]

hello!! i’m gonna speak plainly to you as a little friend in my phone bc a couple things happened this week and i immediately wanted to tell you so i guess that makes us friends now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

first off! this link was shared with me and i quite literally needed to forward it to you bc i just thought it was so beautiful and made the scenes so much more personable somehow. seeing it from that vantage made it all feel that more real i suppose. but gotta be honest not sure i needed to “feel like i was there” for that last clip they used😭 (btw the link in question: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8jGnmgy/ )

secondly, after voraciously reading (and partially rereading) HWFG, i decided a rewatch of lotr was in order. so i started watching it. and i was with my mother at the time that i watched the ending of the fellowship of the ring and i began explaining all the facets of the story to her and ultimately veered into boromir as a character and we ended up having such a lengthy conversation about him bc i was trying so hard to stress his goodness!! that all he wants is the power to protect his city and his people!! and that the ring responds to this passion and tries to corrupt it and makes him seem weak to its power but it’s not weakness it’s love for something so much bigger than him and i just adore him ma’am. so after explaining this and unfortunately not turning off the film right before the orc attack . . . i then got to introduce my mother to the heartbreaking moment of boromir’s valiant death. bc obviously she had fallen for him at this point as well. now with every arrow in him i think she screamed out louder and louder but it really was a canon event in the lives of the audience of lotr so i could not interfere. anyways i think that’s it so farewell for now!! (and thanks for reigniting a passion for lotr!!)

HELLO FRIEND! Send your mum a link to the fic I will heal her 👀 I'm kidding, don't do that -- sorry, couldn't resist.

God, it's so weird how changing the orientation of the scenes makes it feel more "real", and how much of a recent phenomenon that must be - I've never seen anything like that before, or even really considered it. Thanks for the link (but also how dare you, because I also did not need to see that last clip, jeezo).

Also "and partially rereading HWFG" ma'am there are fourteen chapters I only started it two minutes ago and you are here rereading parts, I'm going to die you can't do this to my heart 😭💜

Honestly it's funny though because out of all of them, I've absolutely seen FOTR a hundred times more than the others (and I've seen the others a hell of a lot, too, so it says a lot) with the exception of the final half hour. I like to let myself that Boromir decided "nah it's not for me thanks" and just went back to chill in Rivendell or Lothlorien 'til it was all done. Is it in his character? No. Does it hurt less? Absolutely.

I really don't understand how people can hate him as a character. I know a few people who go on to me about how much they hate him every time I mention him, and I just really can't wrap my head around it. There are some characters that I adore but I can see why they're a controversial choice, but he's absolutely not one of them. A lot of the time they do it almost as a way to show their love of Faramir, without realising that like? A) Faramir would not want that, and B) Boromir was GOOD to Faramir and tried to intercede with Denethor on his behalf.

I won't write you a dissertation on this but maaaaaan. I'm glad I'm dragging you back into Boromir hell with me. It's like a different flavour of the same ice cream as Norrington hell. Bon appetit ✨

[actual-bill-potts]

Ok, you said to distract you, so here’s a whole collection for the ask game!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? 🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write? 💖 What made you start writing? 🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? 🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Thank you so much, you're the best <3

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? Answered this here, but here's another one that I really like:

"Ugh," Maglor exclaimed, gingerly wrapping his own Orc-skin about himself. "Why must you make unpleasant comments when the stench around me is already so foul?"

"I hadn’t noticed a change from your usual presence," Maedhros said mildly, and ducked to avoid the clod of dirt that came sailing towards his head a second later.

Ah, sibling bickering. I love to write it.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write? I am comically low-tech here. If I'm on my phone, I write using the Notes app; if I'm at my laptop, I write directly in AO3. I realize this is terrible but the AO3 interface is so much less scary than a blank word document, don't @ me.

💖 What made you start writing? Hmm. What made me start writing at all, or what made me start writing unhinged silm fic? To answer the former: I've wanted to be an author since I was like. 5. I have notebooks upon notebooks from my childhood full of stories: about a group of rainbow kitties that live in the sky, a rabbit with fire powers, horse girls, two cousins trapped in a lighthouse, poorly-disguised Les Mis fanfiction; Antarctic explorers; etc etc. I also wrote a shit ton of poetry and many plays that I forced my siblings to act in when we were younger, haha. I've always been writing.

In terms of fic writing, though, what really started me writing fic was when I was starting college as a STEM major and realizing that I...really needed a creative outlet or I was going to go insane. I'd been reading fic since I was like 10, and writing it in my head/in little notebooks for a long time, but had never dared to try posting it before. But I was in college and figured, why the hell not? So here I am ^_^

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? gladly! here's a little bit from my Athrabeth script:

Finrod (trying for cheer): - Well! We were talking of death. You referred to death as Morgoth’s curse. 

Andreth: I did.

Finrod: But - death comes to all things. If Eru had not created death, it would not be in this world. Morgoth has made death a fearful thing, to be sure - but without Morgoth’s stain, perhaps death would be quite different. Rest and release, rather than a terrified flight into darkness.

Andreth: What do you know of death? No Elf can know death as we do.

Finrod: We know death. We know death, and we fear it! My people died, and died, and died on the Ice; and those we followed here have fallen to Morgoth. We are dying still in battle - and not one of us will be spared in the end - in the battle to defend all the children of Eru from Morgoth! Not just Elves.

Andreth (acerbic): I have not heard it said that Fëanor led the Noldor from Aman to defend Men. But perhaps the noble house of Finarfin did not care so much for treasure (this with an ironic glance at Finrod’s ring-decked fingers and layers of necklaces). 

Beat.

Andreth: In any case, I say to you again that you do not know death as we do. Death may hurt you; it may bring loss; but for you there may be healing, and you may hope to see your kin again. While we - we go out into utter darkness; and we do not return. It is a curse: and it is a grievous wrong that has been done unto us.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? I think I consider a fic a success if I enjoy re-reading it! If I write a fic, post it, and then never think about it again, then either I didn't write it compellingly enough or the concept wasn't that great in the first place.

Thank you again friend!! <3

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 8

The calm down but a little storm is about to be brewed into a hurricane. 

Again, thanks to @monstersandmaw​ for sharing ice orcs with me. I really appreciate it. Alorna is in the bottom left corner. 

Enjoy. 

Jewel Of The North 

Part 8

“What is wrong with you? You are the only person on the planet that the thought of a millionaire joining the family pisses you off!” John yelled at his wife before he got a call from work. 

“What?” He demanded. 

“Tim called off, is there any way we can get you to come in?” Harald asked him. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.” John grumbled before he hung up. 

“You go home and cool off and just think about this and work on a good apology and how we can get into Zara’s good graces. We need her to like us. She’s from a good family and I would bet you twenty bucks that she paid off all her family’s debts, she could do the same for your parents, all of our family’s and hell even Neena’s family’s debts- if she wanted to. She could even donate to the clans. She’s a godsend, literally. You’re always complaining about how I don’t make enough money and how poor we are and our one shot into an easy life in the lap of luxury and you pissed it away on your petty jealousy over what? Because her son is in ballet? Who the fuck cares? He could torture small animals for fun or literally anything else and it shouldn’t make a damn difference! Or was it because she was Anglo? Hell, I’m mostly Anglo and the only time you give a damn is when you can reserve judgement whenever a native marries a non native and you get to sit on top of your high horse and drag everyone else into the mud even though you’re the most guilty of it. Or was the biggest reason you instantly didn’t like her was because she was prettier than you? Gave you some competition for being the most beautiful woman in the family? Was that it? Gods you are so vain! Get over yourself, the world does not revolve around you! She can afford to give Sakura anything she wants and everything she needs and therefore, everything we want and everything we need. She’s the best kind of rich because she wasn’t born with it so her parents didn’t get the chance to tell her to hoard it all, she’s only had it for a couple of years and poor people love to share new wealth! If you had just played nice like your parents asked, we would be on the winning side of this! You knew the family would turn on you if you turned on her. You should have just kept your mouth shut and your judgement to yourself!” John barked as he drove them home before she got out of the car and slammed her door shut and stomped into the house and had a temper tantrum. 

She couldn’t lose like this. Then she got an idea. 

She got in her car and drove to the community center where she knew the remaining elder body would be gathered going over the final details of the festivities the day after tomorrow. But on the way, she saw Doug stumble out of another bar and stagger to his car. 

“What happened to you?” She asked as she pulled up next to him. 

“You don’t want to know.” Doug shook his head. 

“Does it have something to do with Zarasashasabine Kingsley?” She inquired smugly before he looked up at her. 

“Get in and tell me everything.” She invited before he did as she asked and got into her car as she drove to the community center and once there, they stayed and came up with a scheme to get even before Doug seemed to sober up before they went into the center together to address the council. 

“Hey, so there’s been a development…” Alorna insisted to the remaining council of elders that were gathered there. 

Meanwhile-

“Well that was awkward.” You murmured to Noah quietly as he drove over to Taylor’s house to pick up the remainder of your things from her house. 

“That was just Alorna, she always has a blow up at about every family gathering we have. I don’t know if you noticed how everyone else there was way over her bull shit. Literally everyone was mad at her for making a scene. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Noah reassured you before he took your hand from where your arm was wrapped around Sakura and kissed the back of it sweetly. 

“You’re not allowed to feel bad or guilty over the mess Alorna made, it’s Alorna’s mess to clean up. Not yours.” He insisted. “Just give her a wide berth at the summer solstice and you’ll be fine.” He advised. “But it means a lot to me and everyone else that you’ll be coming to it as a priestess. That means the world to the rest of us.” Noah encouraged. 

“You’re welcome, I’ll be happy to do it. Is there anything that needs to be done, like any work on outfits or accessories or anything like that?” You asked. 

“It’s stuff we can work on tomorrow.” He assured you. 

Once you gathered the rest of your things from Taylor’s house and got it all finally put in Noah’s house, he went ahead and took out his ceremonial outfit and laid it out along with Sakura’s as you made sure Sakura would fit hers only to find out that hers was too small. 

“Well lucky for you sweetie, I can sew and first thing tomorrow, we’re gonna go to town and see what we can do to make this work ok?” You reassured Sakura before you all got ready for bed. 

It felt so natural to get into bed with Noah and even though you had a Frozen Tundra sized king bed. You two were cuddled close and you nearly melted when Noah began to scratch your back. 

“Oooh, harder baby,” You moaned which he obliged before you stripped off your night shirt and laid over his chest to provide him all the access to your back you could and before you knew it, scratching turned to stroking turned to massaging and you were in utter bliss. 

“You have an amazing sense of touch. Your pressure is awesome.” You genuinely praised. 

“Thanks.” Noah grinned proudly. Happy that he could please you so well and when you felt his cock poke at your core through the strain of his boxers, it turned you on and before you knew it you had stripped off your underwear and rode him with great enthusiasm because the look of him just staring up at you in awed wonder made you feel like a wonder of the universe. Especially when he would make all these little keens and groans and moans and murmured his praise and love and adoration made you feel like a goddess and the look of him under you was a sight you would happily engrave into your mind forever. He was...perfect. He was handsome, he was built like a blue marble statue of a god and his strong hands that tightly grasped your hips as he guided your movements while also pushing up into you from below were heavenly. 

The next morning you were woken up to the sound of your phone going off and the caller ID told you it was your children. 

“Good morning.” You greeted sleepily from inside Noah’s embrace since he was spooning you. 

“Good morning, are you with Noah?” Skylar asked. 

“Yes I am.” You confirmed. 

“Can we talk to him?” Skylar requested. 

“Sure,” you answered as you gently stroked your foot on his leg which did get him to stir. 

“The kids want to talk to you.” You told him as you handed him your phone from over your shoulder which he lifted his head off his pillow to crack an eye open to see it before he unwrapped his arm which had been wrapped around your waist to reach up and gently take it from you before you turned around in his embrace and cuddled into his warm chest and continue to use his upper arm as your pillow which caused him to bend the arm at the elbow to fold it so he could wrap his forearm around your upper back and shoulders before his fingertips began to delicately stroke your arm. 

“Hello,” he greeted groggily. 

“So, we have been thinking. And if you were up to it...” Skylar began. 

“Put the phone on speaker.” You suggested since you could overhear your daughter before he did as you asked and let the phone rest on the side of your head which made you snort a laugh as his other hand snaked around you and pulled you flush against him as you could feel his morning wood pinned between you which in turn invited you to hike your leg up around his hip. You could still feel all the seed he pumped you full of last night squish between your feminine lips and yet, here you were, hungry for more and Noah’s hand that found your knee and was stroking up your leg to your rear to give it a good squeeze as his hips rolled into yours- it was divine and one of the best ways to wake up. Gods, if you kept this up, your pussy was going to get raw. But at least you were catching up for lost time. 

“Would you be able to take a week off of work so you and Sakura would be able to go on a family cruise with us?” Skylar proposed. 

“Oh no you don’t. No. Nothing too expensive and cruises are nothing but expensive, try again.” You immediately cut in as you picked up the phone to speak into it before you set the phone down on the pillow between Noah’s head and your own. 

“We know, just hear us out before you shoot it down, that’s why we want Noah and Sakura to be our guests on a Disney cruise, to the Frozen Tundra. We originally wanted to go to the Bahamas but Grandpa Gru said that ice orcs can get really sick if they get too hot and we don’t want Sakura especially to get sick. So we figured a Frozen Tundra cruise would be a good in-between. They get to show us a snapshot of the Frozen Tundra and we can show them some Wainwright slash Kingsley hospitality. And we doubt Sakura’s ever been on a cruise and Disney makes the best kids cruises and the kids activities would still give you guys some privacy if you wanted it and we can even get a two bedroom cabin so we can all stay together and Skylar already called dibs on the loft bed and once we can sit down and talk about the possibilities of our two families merging and what that would look like and how that would work and if we figure out it’s not gonna work out, then we got to go on a nice vacation with a nice family and if it does end up working out and we click, the week after the cruise, Noah can fly us home and show us the Frozen Tundra in more detail and we can meet his friends and family and all that jazz.” Xander specified. 

“When would you want to go?” Noah asked. 

“The cruise week would be the third week in July, that way we can have the last week in July up there if everything goes well and that still gives us time to come back home at the beginning of August and have time to get back on our sleep schedule for school.” Xander informed him. 

“What do you think?” Noah asked you. 

“I will admit, I may have been a little too hasty to shoot that down, I apologize for not being respectful in listening to the whole offer before I made a decision. It sounds like a lot of thought and considerations were put into this and all of that sounds fair to me and that gives me enough time to book it and get things mapped out and planned out.” You answered. 

“Then we have a deal.” Noah answered your kids as you heard their cheers which made you and Noah chuckle. 

“Is there anything else that you need to tell me?” You asked as Noah wasted no time in groping your breasts from under your night shirt and you responded by pushing your chest into his touch because you had missed intimate touches like this. 

“Nope, that’s all, we’re looking forward to it.” Your kids chirped charmingly. 

“Well call me if you need me ok?” You invited. 

“Will do, bye.” They bid you before they hung up and right on cue just as Noah finally hiked his hips up into yours and seated himself to the hilt in you, his phone went off. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Noah groaned as he checked his phone. 

“I am so sorry,” He apologized to you. “Unfortunately I have to answer this.” He said before he answered the phone. 

“Hey Kragan.” He answered. 

“Hey Noah, sorry to bother you but I have a load of supplies that needs to be delivered to Fair Banks for the festival tomorrow and I can’t get a hold of anyone else. Is there any way you can do this load? I can pay…” Kragan began. 

“Yeah, I can do that. Give me a bit, I’m in the middle of something right this second.” Noah said as his hips stroked into yours and you bit your bottom lip to keep from moaning. 

“Thank you so much Noah,” Kragan thanked him before he hung up and with that, he rolled over you and started up in earnest. 

“Don’t you have to get going?” You asked as you clung to him as Noah lavished licks and bites and sucks on your neck, giving you another hickey. 

“I always finish what I start.” Noah murmured in your ear before he picked up speed. 

“Lucky me.” You giggled before you gasped then moaned when he nipped at your ear lobe. 

[erosofthepen]

Letters From Amad pt.2

After about five months of not knowing how to continue it, i have finished part 2!! There will be a third part, not nearly as long, and i already have most of it written, so it should be out a lot sooner lol. BUT, i hope you enjoy it, and thanks for putting up with me lol.

-Part 1

-Words: 4,898

-Warnings: blizzard/storm, injury, hypothermia, some swearing

-Tags: @grunid, @elvish-sky, @sassyscribbler, @whore4fictionalhoes11, @smaugs-guardian, @bitter-sweet-farmgirl, @jotink78, @marvel-ous-hobbit, @anjhope1, (if i forgot you, im sorry, i have trouble keeping track sometimes)

It was moments like this that reflected Thorin’s terrible decision making. In actuality, his decision to not put anymore lives at risk was very wise. But still, it was Fili who was out there. And Kili. And since Thorin would not send a search party out, it was time to take matters into your own hands.

First things first, you went back to your chambers and put on your warmest, fluffiest, most wind-resistant coat. Rabbit fur covered the insides (the hides were hunted and tanned by Fili, a courting gift to you), and thick leather made up the outside, keeping the cold out and the warmth in. Next, you pulled on your winter boots (you had actually just had them made last week, and there were three little pockets perfect for concealing knives in), as well as a hat, gloves, and a scarf, all knitted by Ori, his way to show gratitude after your help in the libraries. You then proceeded to gather up some salted meat and cram, walk down to the entrance of the mountain, and enter the stables.

You choose a faithful companion to keep you company, namely, Daisy. The Mare had a thick wooly mane, and an extreme proclivity towards sweets. This was not to be your first venture with the pony, and now you knew better to bring him anywhere within five leagues of a bakery. You had not been amused when he had eaten an entire box of pastries meant for you and the scholars, though Kili and Fili had thought it to be the most hilarious of stories. However, despite his tendency to devour pastries, Daisy was reliable and resilient, and you hardly rode any other steed.

Several stableboys tried to dissuade you from leaving in the storm, but you brushed off their remarks as you tacked up Daisy. Thankfully, they didn���t try to block your path as you left, though they did warn you to be careful. You weren’t too concerned, for the storm had grown tamer in the day, and the frost was not biting your face. Yet, that is.

You reached Dale in about an hour. It took much longer than expected, with Daisy being nearly up to his belly in the fallen snow. Dale was practically devoid of men and women, most of them having the brains to stay inside during the storm. The only exceptions were some watchmen and one or two passersby.

“Oi, it’s a bit too cold for a morning ride lady, have you lost all sense?” A guard asked as you were leaving the gate on the other side of town.

“No my good fellow, I'm just looking for my friends. Have you seen two dwarrow come this way?”

“Can’t say that I have, but Maurice said he saw a pair last night, a few hours before the snow started.”

“Did Maurice mention where they were headed?”

“To the caravan, where else? It’s about fifteen miles from here, I would guess. You’re not considering going out there, are you?”

“I’m afraid that I must. Good day to you sir,”

“And a very cold day to you, lassie. Best of travels.”

“And to you as well.”

You quickly left and mentally cursed yourself for wishing him best of travels in return. He wasn’t traveling, you idiot!

The embarrassment faded as the wind began to pick up. The blizzard was steadily getting thicker, the puffy snowflakes turning more compact and icy. The city of Dale had long disappeared behind you in the snow, and you could only hope you were headed in the right direction.

However adventurous and bold it sounds, riding bare-back on a pony in the middle of a freezing cold snow storm was not at all an easy task. Your scarf had been moved to cover most of your face, and your hood was tied tightly ‘round your head, yet the flakes still stung your flesh. You were definitely starting to rethink your whole “making sure the brothers were alright in a storm idea.” Especially since it was pointless to look for them in between the caravan and Dale, as you couldn’t even see ten feet in front of you. Your goal now was to simply make it to the caravan without frostbite.

Around noon, you tried eating a bit of the bread you had packed, only to find it frozen. As well as the cheese. And the dried meat. It wouldn’t do good to gnaw on it either, as that would just make your innards cold as well, so you just went with your stomach protesting.

It was starting to get quite dark when you finally saw what seemed to be a glow in the distance. As you drew closer, it grew apparent that it was the caravan, and you sighed in great relief.

The dwarrow on watch were very suspicious. Of course, once you explained your purpose, they grew less so.

“I come from Erebor, in search of the Princes. Prince Fili and Kili left last night with the intention to travel here, have they arrived?”

The guards started to look a bit nervous.

“No my lady, no one’s seen anything of them.”

Your heart dropped to your feet.

“Are you sure?”

“Aye, the whole group would have known.”

You might’ve cried, but your eyes felt nearly frozen. You turned your pony, with full intent to head back out into the blizzard and look for your love, when one of the watchdwarrow stopped you.

“You’ll freeze out there my lady, as will your pony. Stay and get warm.”

“Aye lass” another said, “Besides, if the Prince’s are out there, her Lady Dís should be informed.”

Ah, that’s right. Dís.

One of the guards led Daisy off to get warm with other animals, while the other led you to Her Ladyship’s tent. He announced your presence, awaited approval, and then lifted the flap of the tent, beckoning you inside before letting it fall behind you.

Dís was a truly stunning Dwarrow, even for her age, with long black raven hair and a beard to match. Some strands were turning silver, much like Thorin’s, and her blue eyes were more piercing than an orc’s. She looked incredibly confused when you walked into her tent.

“Good Mahal lass, what the hell were you doing out in that storm? You must be senseless.” She said, looking up from a book she had been reading and furrowing her brows.

“I was looking for the Prince’s. I should introduce myself, my name is (Y/N).”

Dís’s eyes widened and she stood, showing off quite an impressive height.

“Why would you be looking for my sons out in this storm, (Y/N)?”

“They… Fili left a note this morning, he and Kili were coming to the caravan to see you. The watchdwarrow said they hadn’t arrived.”

The Dwarrowdams jaw went slack for a moment, and then she cursed, banging her hand on a small table that held a bottle of whiskey.

“Foolish boys! Have they no sense? I was to be seeing them in only a few more days, but they could not wait, could they? Och, the beasts!” Dís continued her rant for a while longer, before she turned her gaze back on you.

“And you journeyed out here in the storm?”

“Aye. I could not rest well knowing that they were out in this foul weather. I will be going to head back out to look for them as soon as I’ve warmed up a bit,” you replied, very conscious of the Mother’s piercing stare. She was quiet, until she breathed a worried sigh.

“It’s no use to search out in this weather, lass. Especially at night. Rest here with me, we’ll go searching first thing on the morrow. I must talk with the guards for now, make yourself comfortable, I will return soon.”

And, just like that, Dís left the tent. Her talk was brief, and left you standing dumb in the center of the tent. For some time, you debated on whether or not to go out searching anyways, but the fire was surely inviting, and something in you knew Dís wouldn’t take kindly to you leaving against her wishes.

Your travel bag, heavy and frozen from being exposed to the elements for so long, left your shoulders as you set it down by the entrance. Next came your gloves, and then the outer coat, snow and ice caked on it making your fingers fumble whilst trying to unbutton it. Eventually, it joined your bag, as well as your boots (if you had thought the coat was difficult to get off, the frozen buckles on your boots were torture). After you had stripped the burdensome clothing off, you simply stood in the center of the room, close to the fire. There were blankets nearby, piled near a bedroll, but you dared not touch them, seeing as they belonged to Dís. It was rather awkward, simply sitting in a stranger's (of sorts) quarters, and weren’t sure what to do.

Your eyes did some exploring for you, falling first on the book that Dís had been reading. ‘The Heart of Hrund’. Huh. You recognized the title, from the Great Library, but you knew very little about it. You’d have to read it now. Your eyes then fell to the whiskey bottle. ‘Breaker’s’. Ah. Memories you shared with Kili at the beginning of the journey returned, however hazed they were due to your drunken state. Strong stuff, Breaker’s was. Bofur managed to get his hands on a few bottles from a merchant, and you and Kili had stolen one from him, much to Thorin’s disappointment and Fili’s annoyance (he was upset to be left out of the fun). Your eyes then drifted to a leather-fitted box, beautiful khuzdul runes and designs etched into it, however, before you could get a closer look, footsteps crunched through the snow outside the tent.

Dís and a young dwarrow entered, carrying stew, bread, and a plethora of blankets and pillows.

“Mahal,” Dís started, placing the tray of food down on the little table and grabbing a quilt from the other dwarrow, “Have you just been sitting here freezing? You could have taken a blanket, you know.” She said, wrapping the quilt around your shoulders and moving you to sit down.

“I, er, I didn't want to be rude.” You replied, now sitting cross-legged on the floor. Dís screwed her face at you.

“Lass, it is never considered rude to take a blanket in the cold. Only exception is if someone is already using it.”

You didn’t reply, feeling very uncomfortable social-wise, despite finally starting to warm up physically. Dís grabbed the rest of the supplies from the other dwarrow and nodded at him to leave. As he left the tent, Dís set the other blankets down and started making a bedspace for you near the fire.

“I can help with that,” you said, starting to get up to help.

“Nonsense lass, you get yourself warm.” Dis stood and grabbed the food tray once more. “However, I do request that you eat.” she set the tray down in front of you, and you thanked her, feeling a bit guilty as you started on the stew.

“Uh, have you eaten yet, My Lady?”

Dís scoffed, resuming her work on your bed roll. “Don’t call me that child, call me Amad. I can hardly stand to be addressed in that way by servants, let alone my sons One. But yes, I’ve had my fill.”

Her words shocked you, having only ever heard Fili refer to you as his One. You hardly expected Dís to accept you as Fili’s lover, let alone his One.

“Alright.” You replied, once more feeling dumb and without anything to contribute. So you sat in silence, trying hard not to slurp and watching Dís make up your bed. Eventually, She moved up and away, surveying her work.

“Thank you, that was very kind.” you said. Dís sighed and nodded, sitting down on the other side of the fire. You were quiet once more, and were now re-considering going out to search for Fili and Kili, if only to avoid the discomfort of the situation.

“I hope you are only not talking because of the storm. I expected a much more chatty lass, if i’m being honest.” Dís remarked, eyeing you carefully.

Panic flashed through your eyes as you tried to think of something to say, but Dís let out a soft chuckle before you could make a fool of yourself.

“I’m only joking, child. You needn't be nervous here. Tell me, how was your journey from the mountain to here?”

“Cold,” You blurted out, shuddering as you imagined the wind biting your face. Dís smiled at your bluntness.

“Indeed, I imagine it would be, especially if you’ve been out all day. Tell me, was there any sign of them as you came over?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately no, I could hardly see past my nose once the snow grew thicker.”

“I swear, those boys will be the death of me,” she muttered.

“Just be glad you weren’t Thorin trying to deal with all three of us,” you said without thinking. Dís locked eyes with you, and then started chuckling.

“I do not envy him, based on what I've read of you three. It seems that you made it your entire purpose to create trouble for my brother dear.”

“Well, we tried to. For the first half of the journey, at least. He was much more willing to withstand our meddling before we crossed the Misty Mountains. Then came the orcs, and goblins, and Mirkwood, Laketown, the dragon… and the battle too.” Your face had fallen whilst you spoke, and Dis reached out her hand to comfort you.

“You mustn't dwell on the hardships of the past, child. It does nothing but cause trouble for the mind. Believe me, I know.”

At that moment, Dís seemed to age very quickly, and the wisdom and experience that this dwarrowdam had became clearer. You knew her story well-enough, from nights Fili had needed to find comfort in you, telling you about his childhood and family. Dís had wed Víli Heptifilissøn, and twelve years after Kili had been born, he had fallen ill from the Black Lung*, and had spent months growing weaker and weaker until he perished. Fili was able to remember the wretched coughing, and his Adad’s ragged breaths, as clearly as the day it happened. It was the reason he refused to go deep into coal mines, or else made up excuses. If those memories still hung onto Fili, you could only imagine how horrible it must have been for Dís, who had to watch her husband suffer such a death. Looking at her now, you never felt more in awe of a single person.

“You speak truly, my Lady-”

She looked at you sharply, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

“-I mean, Amad.”

That satisfied her, and she relaxed her hand away. “I do indeed, child. Never has a lie crossed my lips. Except when I told Thorin that he had a mighty spider in his beard.” You chuckled at that, but it quickly turned to a yawn. Dís raised a brow.

“It’s time for sleep then,” she commented, “I’ll leave you in peace to finish eating, and then it’s straight to bed.” Dís stood and went back to her chair, and resumed her book, leaving you to scoop that last of the stew in your mouth. It was not long before you were warm and cozy in your makeshift bed, and Dís bid you goodnight before blowing out the lanterns.

You woke to shouting. In your groggy state, you couldn’t make out the words, and you blinked in the dim light of the fire.

“What new madness arises?” You heard Dís murmur, followed by the sounds of her fumbling about. The shouting grew nearer. “Are you awake, (Y/N)?”

“Only partly,” you replied, trying to untangle the covers from your legs. You shuddered as the extra warmth left, but hurried to your feet, only stumbling slightly. The noise was becoming considerably louder, and your ears could start to make out the words being yelled.

“Get a healer, lads!”

“He looks frozen stiff!”

“SHOVE OFF! WHERE IS AMAD?” Kili’s furious shout snapped you into alertness. At that moment, Dís was able to find a lantern, and finally the tent’s interior was more visible. The flap in front of the tent lifted, and Kili stumbled in, hair frozen with bits of ice and face bright red. With horror, you realized he was supporting another dwarf who was barely conscious. Fili.

You jumped to your feet and rushed towards your betrothed, supporting his other side and lifting his head. Fili’s lips were tinged blue, and his teeth were chattering bitterly, clacking together in a terrible rhythm. Dís was there not a second after you, and she helped guide you all to lay Fili down in the space you had slept just moments before.

“Strip him down,” Dís commanded, starting to work on his boots. You followed her orders without hesitation, helping Kili with Fee’s coat. It didn’t take too long for the three of you to undress him to his underclothes, and you winced when you saw his shoulder looked… definitely not normal. Dís pressed on it gently, and Fili made a weak groan that twisted at your heart.

“He fell off his pony,” Kili said.

“Of course he did. Kili, fetch a healer.” The younger prince sprang up, filled with energy even after being out in a blizzard for nearly an entire day. But he was hardly at the entrance when a grizzled old dwarrow entered, a satchel in hand and a hard look set in his features.

‘‘Hanarr,” Dís welcomed, nodding her head. The old dwarf grunted in acknowledgement before kneeling down by Fili’s shoulder, feeling along the bone. He grunted once more, before looking up at Kili.

“Hold down right here lad,” Hanarr instructed, moving Kili’s hands to rest on Fili’s other shoulder and chest. “Right, hold it firm.”

Hanarr outstretched Fili’s other arm, and began to move it towards his head. A click sounded, and Fili called out, however weakly. His shoulder looked back to normal again, and Hanarr quickly folded his arm against his chest, before searching through his medical pack and pulling out a sling.

“Sit him up, lad.” the healer instructed Kili. He propped Fili up against his side, and this time, Fili held his own head up, his gaze landing on you. Confusion flitted across his nearly-frostbitten features, and he mumbled your name despite of his state.

But Hanarr was upon him again, and soon the sling was fastened to his arm, and the Healer was moving his legs so that they were tucked against his chest. He addressed Kili once more, “Get rid of yer tunic, and stay close to yer brother” and then turned towards you, “do the same, but mind his shoulder lassie.” Without hesitation, you followed his command and soon Fili was sandwiched between yourself and Kili. Dís (with the permission of Hanarr), wrapped several blankets around the three of you, and soon set to work on making some tea. Hanarr presented her with a root of ginger, and, after seeing that all that could be done was done, decided to take his leave.

“He should be fine in a few hours, I'll come back to check on him soon. Keep him awake.” were his final words before departing.

The silence that followed his departure was intense, interrupted only by the sound of the fire, the kettle, and a knife. Dís was the first to speak.

“I would have your hides, if I was not so glad to see you again.” She said in a low voice as she shredded the ginger.

“I’m sorry Amad,” Kili said, eyeing the movement of his Amad’s knife, “Patience has never been my strong suit.”  Beside you, Fili shifted and rested his forehead against your temple.

“Indeed not,” Dís replied, her voice heating like the water she was boiling, “How did you convince your brother to join you in this endeavor?” Fili moved again, this time nuzzling his face into your neck and hair, his nose startlingly cold.

“Who said it was my idea?” Kili argued. However, Dís turned her glare on him, and He flushed and murmured, “he wanted to see you too, it didn’t take much to convince him.”

“(Y/N)” Fili said, drawing the attention away from arguing. “ ‘m tired.” He let his head rest heavy against your shoulder, and you (reluctantly) moved him away.

“You must wait to sleep, Kidhuzel,” You said, bringing your hand up to brush his hair away from his face. He opened his eyes wider, in sheer betrayal. You could have smiled, knowing Fili’s tendency to become unreasonably cross when denied sleep, but instead you kissed his cheek.

“Your Amad is making tea for you, and when you drink it, you’ll warm right up.” The blond prince’s eyes dropped once more and he tried moving back to the crook of your neck, only to be refused a second time.

“ I’d prefer Ale,” He muttered bitterly. At this, you did allow yourself to smile.

“Not a chance. Your heart might stop.” He grumbled and detached his uninjured arm from Kili, taking your hand and squeezing it with what feeble strength that had returned to his veins.

“It won’ stop as long as you’re ‘ere.”

Kili snorted, but was silenced as Dís sent him another glare, and you laughed softly, shaking your head and squeezing his hand back.

“If it worked that way, then I would gladly give you the finest Ale, however, I do believe tea would be a better option.”

When the tea was ready, you helped Fili to drink it. At first, the prince had winced at the heat, but soon he drank it gladly, becoming more alive with each sip. You sensed Dís watching you and Fili carefully, but brushed it off, telling yourself she was only concerned for Fili, not observing how you interacted. A small part of you that wouldn’t be silenced said it was both. Soon the mug was empty, and it had apparently helped Fili along much more than you anticipated, and soon he had detached himself completely from his brother and was pulling you closer.

“Careful of your shoulder,” you reminded him.

“ ‘s fine.” He replied, pressing flush against you. His skin had already warmed, thus proving the hardiness and hot blood of dwarrow. Kili scooted away, seeing that he was no longer needed, readjusted the furs covering yourself and his brother, and pulled his tunic back on. Dís immediately walked over and threw another fur across his shoulders, and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned just as tightly. You averted your eyes when Kili started to sniff and tremble.

“I missed you,” he said.

“And I as well, inùdoy” Mother and son stayed in once another’s embrace, until she drew away and made him drink his fill of ginger tea as well.

A half hour later, you were struggling to keep Fili’s eyes open, and Kili had already crashed on Dís’s bedroll. The dwarrowdam herself grew impatient for Hanarr’s return, and had gone out searching for him. She reentered the tent with him not ten minutes later, and Hanarr (as grumpy and irritable as he was, he was an excellent healer), inspected Fili. Truly, your prince was proof that dwarves were nothing more than portable furnaces, and his temperature was more or less back to normal. He still was a bit out of it, but it was nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. Soon Hanarr declared that it was safe for Fili to sleep, and almost immediately, the blond sank into your bedroll and began to snore.

Diís left after Hanarr, telling you to rest and call her if need be. You didn’t question where she was going, and she did not share it with you.

However tired and exhausted you were, sleep would not come. You sat in front of the fire for hours, feeding it and stoking it, keeping your mind entertained with the images dancing in the flames.

You had just finished adding another log to the fire, when a hand lightly gripped your wrist.

“Ghivashel” Fili said faintly. Your head turned towards him, and you smiled despite all things; for while Fili’s face was still red, his hair undone, and his eyes bleary, he was alive and conscious.

“Khuzd allakhul” you scolded, bending down to lean your forehead against his, “What sort of prince are you, to go out in the snow and frighten your lover?” You kissed his lips softly before drawing away just enough to wait for his answer.

“A very foolish prince indeed,” He murmured, his hand on your wrist pulling you back towards him. “But what sort of lover are you, to worry so greatly and come after me in the snow?”

“A very devoted lover, who has half a mind to leave now that you’ve insulted my care of you.” Fili’s eyes widened and he summoned his strength to pull you down, nestled in his side.

“Forgive me, I was not thinking of insulting you, amrâlimê. I just don’t want to see you suffer for my sake. Menu Tessu.” He said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. The beads on his mustache braids still felt frozen, but his lips were warm. You smiled and took his hand, entwining your fingers together.

“All is forgiven. So long as you won’t do anything as stupid as that ever again.” you replied. Fili sighed and kissed the side of your mouth.

“I shall try my very hardest not to.”

“That isn’t very reassuring.”

“Then you must forgive me once more, for I cannot make such bold promises whilst Kili remains my brother.”

You both chuckled at this, before settling into comfortable silence. Slowly, your eyes began to drop, the crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of Fili’s breath making it harder and harder to evade sleep. The fact that the lion prince had begun to rub circles into your shoulder with his thumb wasn’t helping. After the third time you startled yourself awake, Fili’s voice was near your ear.

“You can sleep now, Amralime. I won’t be going anywhere.”

His words were nothing short of a spell, and in less than a minute, your eyes closed and sleep overtook you, a comforting, dreamless sleep, the best kind.

When next you woke, indeed, Fili was still right next to you, awake, but only just. He was blinking the sleep away, and you suspected that his movements had been what had woken yourself. Cold winter light was shining through the tent flaps, cutting like a blade through the warm glow that filled the inside, and a conversation was taking place.

“We left in the wee hours, m’lady, just before dawn. You can imagine the state Thorin was in when he heard that the entire future of Erebor was out in the snow.” The voice of Dwalin more than successfully brought you to awakeness, and you sat up, looking around for the source of his voice.

“Indeed, I imagine he would be weathering the floors with pacing. I expect we’ll be leaving soon, no?” Now Dís spoke, and by this point, you and Fili had turned behind you to see the pair talking over mugs of mulled wine. Kili was also there, however, he was still dreaming on Dís’s previous sleeping roll, limbs sprawled out wide and mouth hung open almost comically.

“Aye, as soon as these three are dressed and ready.” Dwalin said, turning his gaze onto you and Fili, brow raised and the slightest of smiles on his warrior face. “What a lot of worry you and your brother had us in,” he continued, addressing Fili specifically, “I swear to Mahal, you’ve no idea what sort of panic you caused. Course, when yeh come back with your shoulder like that, everyone’ll be doting on yeh. ‘The poor heir who got caught in a blizzard trying to see his Amad’, not ‘the fucking idiot who didn’t have any patience and went out in the night despite knowing there was a storm brewin’.” But all while saying this, there was humor and relief in the warrior's voice, betraying how glad he felt that the boys were not frozen under three feet of ice and snow.

“Both versions are correct,” Fili pointed out, his voice still croaky from sleep.

“Aye, but only the first version will get told.” Dwalin replied, to which you laughed. He turned his focus to you now. “Don’t think you’re innocent lass, Thorin nearly had a heart-attack when we couldn’t find you. Both the heirs missin’ was bad enough, but the lady who’ll be adding to the heirs disappearing made it all worse.”

“Och, Dwalin, she had a noble cause to come out in the snow, you needn’t blame her for anything.” Dís said, coming to your aid.

“Was our cause not noble and justified?” Kili’s voice piped up. The Prince's eyes were hardly opened, but he was more than ready to defend himself from accusations.

“Not when you were to be seeing me in less than a week. If I was able to refrain myself from going out into a blizzard in the late hours, you should have been able to as well.” Dís retorted. A sour expression crossed Kili’s face, but he dared not argue with his Amad.

“Right then,” Dwalin said, “Get yourselves up an’ ready, we’ve not much daylight left to get back to Erebor.”

*Black Lung: Coal miner’s pneumonia. 

Kidhuzel: Gold of Gold

Inùdoy: Son

Ghivashel: Treasure of Treasures

Khuzd allakhul: Stupid Dwarf

Menu Tessu: You mean everything to me

(part three will be out soon)

[thefugitivemango]

Variant Attachments

[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini, player of @sinafay1 and @sinafay-the-defiant ]]

~*~

The Kyrian’s duties in Korthia were primarily as scouts. Their air superiority gave them a distinct advantage in surveying the area. But even for a wingless Kyrian adherent like Grakkar, scouting was the best way he could contribute to the joint efforts of Death’s Advance. An eye in the sky was one thing, but without getting a sense of things on the ground, it didn’t count for much.

The orc hefted his axe over his shoulder, relaxing his stride as he stepped out onto the open road. He’d trudged and crawled through the thickets, underbrush, and cliffsides of this unforgiving land enough for one day, and now returned to the Keeper’s Respite up the hill. Today’s report wasn’t much different than yesterday’s-- fighting here happened quickly and spontaneously, and ended equally so. It made it hard to predict when and where the Mawsworn would strike. But they weren’t amassing anywhere out of the usual. For now.

Grakkar stopped, eyes shooting wide as he entered the encampment. His heart skipped a beat, swelling up in his chest! It was a face he’d know anywhere-- Sinafay’s! What was she doing here? And why was her skin so much more blue than before? Her eyes, too were--

“... Oh.”

It dawned on him, heart beating back normally again… though feeling excessively heavier now, as a result. It was Sinafay. But not his Sinafay. His wall of a Soulbind by her side confirmed it, as the two spoke indistinctly across the camp. Shared a kiss… then Argonas stepped away, approaching the Kyrian forward commanders. Likely to report in. He’d been scarce lately, but Grakkar understood why. After the Battle for Ardenweald, he finally attained what he came here for in the first place. Sinafay.

And… there she was. Standing alone now, watching her mate from afar. That same hopeful, jovial expression as she looked at Argonas that her Lightbound self back home would give Grakkar when he was around. It made him miss her all the more, seeing this facsimile here and now.

Before he knew it, his legs took off without him, closing the distance between him and Sinafay. By the time he was within talking distance of her, he realized he had no idea what to say!

“Nice body.” was his knee-jerk reaction.

He could almost taste his foot as he shoved it in his mouth.

“--Uhh, I mean… I’m glad you restored it. Your body, I mean.” he tried to correct. “Because, you know… last I saw you were a soul.”

An attempt at a save. Not a good one, but an attempt!

Sinafay visibly bristled at the voice. She recognized the gruff Orcish accent easily enough. Her eyes narrowed as she snapped an ice cold glare at Grakkar. Her tail twitched, clearly demonstrating her annoyance as he fumbled his words out.

She hadn’t yet had a chance to discuss with Argonas how he’d ended up with an Orc as a Soulbind. Either way, she at least attempted not to be immediately hostile towards him, if anything because she wasn’t aware of the specifics of how the connection worked.

“Thank you…” she replied, though it appeared to take great effort on her part, “It has served me well thus far.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her hip, brows knit as she looked him over. Old… very old. No doubt a good fighter to have reached that age. She wondered how many Draenei deaths he was responsible for…

There was an awkward silence as they both just stood there eyeing each other. She wasn’t certain why Grakkar wasn’t leaving… was he attempting to befriend her because of the link with Argonas, she wondered? Sinafay looked over towards where her husband had gone, hoping to catch his gaze and indicate he should come back, but he appeared to be in a deep conversation about the mission report. She let out a heavy sigh before returning her attention to the Orc.

“You and Argonas are… Soulbinds, yes?” she figured she might as well attempt to gather information, “What exactly does that entail?”

“It’s, uh… complicated.” he sputtered out, not entirely sure how to answer that. “The Kyrian do this ritual to connect people, so they can draw on one another’s strengths. Argonas and I share a link of sorts. Memories. Emotions. Those kinds of things we can glean from one another’s pasts.”

It was honestly about all he knew about it, for having undergone a Soulbinding ritual personally. The rest of it felt… innate. Unable to be put into words, just understood through the experience. He found a lot of shamanistic rituals were like that, too.

“--Ah! You’re a shaman, right?” he brightened, smiling as he remembered that fact! “I remember Argonas mentioning that. Or… reading it from his memories. Either way, that’s impressive! Where I come from, not a lot of Draenei have the tenacity or commitment for such a sacred calling.”

He smiled a bit. Relaxing. This was going well… he thought. He hoped.

“I… am, yes,” she replied, tail flickering behind her. She wasn’t about to mention that having a new body made it so that she had to reconnect with the elements once again. It was one of the main reasons she wanted to accompany Argonas to Korthia, what better place to reconnect than on the field of battle itself?

The idea of him gleaning memories and emotions from Argonas was… disturbing, to say the least. Especially considering she and her mate had spent the past few months doing nothing but celebrating her return in very physical ways! She couldn’t help but wonder how much of that he’d picked up. Perhaps it was the reason he was so relaxed around her. Her nose scrunched up in disgust. It was uncomfortable to say the least. This Orc already seemed to know so much about her, yet she knew next to nothing about him.

For the moment, she pushed aside the memory and emotions issue to concentrate on the other things Grakkar had divulged.

“What do you mean ‘where you are from?’” She couldn’t help but ask, noting his skin color and tattoos, “You speak of Nagrand?”

"Heh, good eye. You know your clans, it seems." he nodded.

Grakkar then spread his arms and turned slightly to further show off his Warsong clan markings. He was impressed; this Sinafay seemed as interested in Orcish culture as his was!

"I'm from a different timeline than you are, though-- the one you Azerothians returned to and saved from the Legion's devastation." he clarified, straightening up once more. "After you all left, the Orcish clans and the Draenei empire lived in peace… for a time. Before the Lightbound Crusade."

A frown crossed his features, diminishing the polite and friendly smile he had tried to maintain in her presence. Even now, the sudden betrayal of the Draenei weighed heavily on his heart. He lost so many people he cared about to that zealous treachery. Including Neelah.

"But… that isn't a very pleasant story." he shook his head, shrugging the negative memories away for now. "Regardless, it's impressive to see a Draenei cultivate an affinity to the elements."

Sinafay simply blinked as a pack of new information came rolling out of the Orc’s mouth. Draenor? Draenei and Orcs living in peace?! Lightbound Crusade? She shook her head as she tried to digest it all… except none of it made any sense!

“Wait wait wait,” her arms finally uncrossed from over her chest, to bring her fingers to rub at her temples, “You are saying that the portals to Draenor are OPEN again?! Since when?! What the fuck is a Lightbound?! What crusade?!”

So many questions filled her head. She looked towards Argonas once more. He hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort!

Fuck, she needed a drink!

Grakkar's eyes widened, brow raising. His lips grew narrow, as he began to recognize the familiar signs or panic and confused anger in this Sinafay he had learned from the true one back home. He had definitely upset her.

"--Oh, uh… no, no. The portals aren't open again. They were briefly so we could escape the Lightbound Crusade." he tried to explain simply and quickly as possible. "The, uh, the Lightbound were what the Draenei in my timeline became after the Azerothians left. Their leader grew zealous and broke the peace to try and force the Light onto us. They killed anyone who resisted, so… uh…"

Only after he expounded on the terrible incident did he realize… knowing more probably wouldn't calm this Sinafay down. Just like the feeling of shame and anger he felt learning the Orcs of the Azerothian timeline had succumbed to the Fel, he suspected this particular Sinafay might not be pleased to hear her people had become oppressors.

Whoops.

"I, uh… I'll let Argonas fill you in on the rest of that. Where'd he get off to, anyway…?"

He joined Sinafay in looking for his Soulbind… but the crowd had grown. Argonas was nowhere in sight!

She took the opportunity to get up in his face. Hands grabbing his tabard and tugging his attention back to her as she growled at him. He was right, she was upset. Tail flicked erratically behind her, and despite having not fully reconnected to the elements, static electricity and sparks of lightning became evident at her growing sour mood.

“Details, Orc,” she practically barked out the command, “Now.”

His lips almost curled into a smile. Almost. Sinafay was so sexy when she was angry and aggressive… even this Azerothian variant! It took significant willpower to keep his hands at his side, rather than grabbing at and groping the Draenei like he would do back home in a situation like this. He had to remind himself this wasn’t his Sinafay.

Hopefully she didn’t notice his erection-- the damn thing clearly couldn’t tell the difference.

“The, uh… the clans were thinned, and forced to merge into one clan and unite against the Lightbound. But even that didn’t stop them, after their empire had grown so powerful. The last of us escaped through the portal to Azeroth, right after the Ogres succumbed.” he elaborated, at her insistence. “Light drove them to madness, same as an excess of any magic would. I know things worked out differently in your timeline, so this must be hard to hear, Sina. But… your people on Draenor turned into zealots.”

He brought his hand up to gently push hers off of him. His arousal abated, after recounting the awful tragedy that ended his life on Draenor. That, and Sinafay’s rage was far less sexy when he couldn’t fight back, as it turned out...

“--Look, don’t get mad at me, alright? I didn’t raise my weapon to any Draenei who weren’t trying to kill me. After the peace, anyway…” he attempted to quell her anger further. “No, during the Lightbound Crusades, I even worked with a Draenei; the real Sinafay, actually! And later after that, Sinafay and I… well… she became my mate.”

He smiled. That would’ve surely cheered her up, to learn that her true self wasn’t one of the oppressive out-of-control Lightbound that conquered his people!

“We even had a child together-- but that’s more recent, once we got here to Azeroth. Argonas thought it was his at first, and we had a big fight over it. I won, easily, but it was still a sore point in our relationship.” he continued, filling Sinafay in on the more recent details. “But we’re past it now, and are working together! One more point of proof, if you need it, that I’m most definitely a friend of the Draenei! Married one, have one as a child-- and if I can work well with Argonas, what more proof do you need?”

With a hearty laugh, Grakkar brought his hand firmly down on Sinafay’s shoulder! He was so glad they were getting along now!

Sinafay’s head spun. She remained in front of Grakkar, hands still up in front of her, balled into fists as he recounted all the details to her. Her eyes widened as he explained the path her kin on Draenor had taken. Surely, the Orcs must have provoked them somehow! But then, she’d seen for herself how the Naaru and the Light could corrupt back on Argus. It turned her stomach that such a corrupted path had been the one Yrel had taken…

She shook her head slowly, face visibly paled and brows drawn together as she tried to make sense of it. Surely, Rurik wouldn’t have stood for something like that nor would her mother or—

—The news of her Draenor counterpart took her completely by surprise. She blinked as Grakkar updated her on her alternate self. She stared at the Orc in shock and disbelief. Part of her was pleased that the other Sinafay had both fought against and survived the crusade. It seemed their will to do what was right and their survival skills were similar.

Apparently, though, that was where their similarities ended. Her counterpart was mated AND had birthed Grakkar’s child?! And why would Argonas think the child was…

Wait.

He would only think the child was his if…

Anger returned to the forefront of her mind as she realized two things. One: her alternate self had managed to cross over and was now living on Azeroth. Two: Argonas was sleeping with her again.

The hand on her shoulder was the breaking point. Baring her fangs, Sinafay grabbed Grakkar’s upper arms and moved forward as she raised her knee, swiftly connecting hard into the Orc’s testicles.

“Fuck that bitch and fuck YOU!”

She was furious! Her eyes flared as lightning sparked around her form. Shoving Grakkar aside, she stomped off into the wilds of Korthia, tail swinging aggressively behind her.

She needed air.

~*~

Grakkar wasn’t sure how long he was on the ground. His eyes fluttered open to see his Soulbind Argonas, scowling down at him. Slowly, sound returned to him. Muffled mumblings at first, but growing more clear as his senses returned to him.

“... ere is she? Where is Sinafay?” Argonas asked, demandingly.

That’s when it started rushing back to the Orc. The memories and the pain, both. He winced, feeling the intense pain in his groin all at once.

“--A-Ancestors…” he whimpered.

Argonas, too, grimaced-- their Soulbinding translating that physical pain in Grakkar into sympathetic pain for the Vindicator. He glanced down, and briefly brushed his hand overtop the Orc’s battered bundle. A flash of Light, and the pain was suppressed. For now.

“--Hnngh… Thank you…” Grakkar managed to speak, no longer straining from the intensity of the pain. “She… kicks really hard… I didn’t expect it-- we were getting along so well!”

“Clearly not as well as you think!” Argonas resumed scolding.

He pulled Grakkar up, whether he wanted to sit up or not, and crossed his arms before him.

“I will ask again; where is she? You were with her last, and clearly upset her!”

“I… I don’t know. We were talking about Shamanism, then about Draenor…” Grakkar replied, as the memories started lining up again. “Then about the Lightbound, and the real Sina… then our child, and--”

“--Wait, you told her about the other Sinafay?” Argonas interrupted, frowning. “What exactly did you say?”

“That she and I had a child together. I told her how we fought over it, when you thought it was yours, but only to indicate that we had moved past that, yeah?” the Orc replied, grunting as he slowly stood up. “I was trying to show her I’m not like most of the Orcs you and she have encountered in your timeline. That I’m a friend. I thought that’d be best, given our circumstances.”

Argonas had stopped listening after the part about the baby. His eyes widened, skin growing a paler shade of blue. He turned, staring at the ground as a million thoughts raced through his mind. None of them good.

“... She knows, then. And she is not happy about it.”

“About what?”

“About the other Sinafay. And how we--”

He gasped, turning to Grakkar. He didn’t have to say it-- their soulbind link conveyed it well enough in the moment. Argonas was not supposed to have rekindled things with the Sinafay from Draenor. Grakkar could tell immediately.

“... It’s alright, big guy. Look, you just explain to her that you thought she was gone for good, yeah? She’ll forgive you!”

“Does she seem like a forgiving person to you!?” Argonas snapped back, brow furrowed. “They hated each other! Light, I should have warned you, but I did not expect you would speak of that in your first ever encounter with her!”

“... Second, technically.” the Orc mumbled to himself. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

The silence lingered between the two of them for a moment. Both feeling the complexity and awkwardness of the situation through their soulbind. Finally, Grakkar shrugged.

“I’m gonna go.”

“I think that would be best, yes.” Argonas nodded. “Lay low for now. I will sort this out so it does not interfere with our duties to the Kyrian.”

“--No, Argonas… I’m gonna go home.”

Argonas raised his brow, as he looked at Grakkar. The Orc nodded resolutely, as he hefted his axe back over his shoulder. Aside from a pair of bruised berries, his encounter with Sinafay had left him with one thing; homesickness. As much as he wanted to help, he was starting to realize what this time apart from his mate and daughter was really costing him. He had been able to push his feelings down until now. But seeing Sinafay? Even a copy of her? Those feelings were too much to ignore.

He didn’t have to say it, though-- Argonas could feel it. And honestly, were he in the same position, he couldn’t say for sure that he’d continue to squash the feelings for the good of the mission. It was time for his Soulbind to return to Azeroth.

“... Mm. So be it.” he replied, nodding.

He stepped forward, and extended a hand. A gesture of goodwill-- the first he’d ever made towards an Orc! Grakkar smirked, taking Argonas’ hand in his and squeezing it firmly. They grinned to one another.

“Honor and glory to you, Argonas.”

“And Light’s blessings upon you and yours, Grakkar.”

Grakkar nodded one final time, before turning to depart. He paused, calling back as he approached the portal.

“--And good luck with all that!”

His chuckle echoed across the Sanctuary, before fading away with his physical form back to Oribos.

~*~

[[ @sinafay1 / @sinafay-the-defiant / @argonas / @grakkar-gorefang ]]

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Let the Stars Witness

Okay okay holy— omg I did it! My first request and from an admired writer of mine no less!

From @kim-monsterlings : Hi and welcome!! Really looking forward to seeing your work! ~ If you would, could I request some form of friends to lovers with an orc? (Prompts maybe like, "you deserve better.") Thank you! <3

Since it wasn't specified on what their genders are, I hope your okay with what I went with! And I kinda trailed off from the prompt (or rather it's different but similar)

Anyways you'll know when you read!

•

Pairing: Male Orc (Duruk) x Human Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: None.

•

"You know, I never thought I would be friends with anyone here, especially with someone other than my, well, species," you tell your companion, your eyes not leaving the cloudless night sky as you lied on your back on the roof of his house. The stars were out tonight.

If you told your younger self that you'd be having great escapades (if running away and getting into a series of trouble fall under that) with an orc, you would most definitely cry your eyes out because you thought were being teased, taking it as a hurtful comment. You were sensitive like that. Part of the reason why no one would even go near you, afraid they might hurt you with a pat on the shoulder or with one word alone. You became the prime target of bullies, finding twisted amusement at your pathetic reactions. A crybaby, they called you. But it wasn't your fault you didn't have much control over your emotions. You were weird, asocial, timid, maybe even depressed. Having a neglectful family didn't help either, it just worsened.

•

The morning you met Duruk was after the orientation. And it was not so good for a first impression.

Long story short, you cried.

But since you're perhaps curious as to what happened exactly, let's elaborate.

You had your headphones on, the melodic sound of gentle rain played in a 3-hour loop and blocked out other noises, your eyes glued to the path you were on. You took long and hurried steps, wishing you could teleport to your classroom and hide in the back, disappear or become invisible.

You were distracted, or should we say, focused on the ground and expecting everyone to step aside and let you through.

Well, except for the one who had his back on you.

You crashed—not an exaggeration— into something- someone massive. You stumbled back and landed on your bum, wincing from the impact. Luckily, your headphones were safe (ah yes, priorities), detaching from your ears and landing on your shoulders. When you looked up to see who it was, you thought your eyes were gonna fall off, grow little legs, and scamper away.

Before you stood an orc, halfway turned to glance at whoever it was that tried to push him, his sharp tusks jutting out from his maw. His brows were furrowed as he looked down on you. Sure, he wasn't as tall as the orcs you've seen around the city and campus but still was over 6 feet, with muscles thicker than your thighs, easily hulking you.

You tried to get out an apology and run as far as you could go, but you just sat there, frozen as you strained your neck to meet his gaze, you couldn't look away. Your heart was trying to claw its way out into the surface.

Then you felt the tears swell up.

They cascaded down your face before you even could stop them.

The orc's eyes widened at your reaction and crouched down to your level in an instant that he almost fell over. His hands hovered, not sure what to do.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry. Please don't—"

"I-I-I'm re..really s-sorry p-please don't hurt m-me..." You managed to choke out pathetically, hiccuping in every word.

"Shhh now hey, it's okay. It was an accident— what? No! Why would I do that?" he replied. The orc peeked over his shoulder and to the sides. "Let's get you to somewhere, uh, less crowded," he added. You turned your head and saw that you had an audience, whispers went around as they sent pitiful and disgusted glances in your direction, only making you cry even more.

He proceeded to unceremoniously lift you into his arms, bridal style, and dashed away. You gripped the front of his shirt and shut your eyes. You were trembling now, scared of what he might do to you. How could you even fight back with your small stature?

It wasn't long until you felt him slow down and placed you carefully on a bench. The orc knelt in front of you, brows scrunched up as he studied your face.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You didn't reply, only staring at him through your glassy eyes as you heaved.

You flinched when his hand started rubbing your back, his other hand placed on the side of the bench to balance himself.

He continued to caress your back and murmured soothing words in hopes of calming you down.

Your tears didn't stop falling until moments later when you came down from your initial fear, the warmth of his palm leaving your back once you did. All the while the orc remained where he was, at a loss of what to do next.

You rubbed your sticky face with the collar of your pale and blotchy crimson sweater, sniffing and taking slow, deep breaths before you spoke.

"I... I'm sorry for causing you trouble. E-Even going as far as to take me somewhere quiet. I...appreciate that." You thought you'd pass out with the way people gathered around you, it was suffocating. "Thank you..."

"I panicked," he started, "Sorry—I mean, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I get that a lot of people run away from the sight of me, but you didn't, and just froze there on the ground so..." he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

You shook your head. He was such an imposing figure to many, their first thought was most likely to get away or scream at him.

"You looked angry... When I bumped into you." You slammed into him actually, but he didn't budge an inch. Guess it was one-sided.

"Oh, that? Well, my brother scolds me a lot for having such a grumpy face, scaring humans away. Like he was the one to talk when he's taller and bigger than me! People would faint on the spot when they see him, I bet!"

The image your mind conjured up tore a laugh out of your body, two orcs arguing about how not to terrify people at sight was damn hilarious. When was the last time someone made you laugh like this?

The orc grinned, your reaction a contrast to that of earlier.

You opened your mouth to say something but the ringing of the great bell resounded, cutting you off. The two of you stood up as you realized you were late for your first class of the school year.

"So, uh, what now?" you asked.

"How about we go to our class, then maybe meet up later? Oh, fu— my mother will gut me— I haven't introduced myself!" He blurted out, his voice making you yelp with the sudden outburst.

Clearing his throat, he reached out, "I'm Duruk."

In turn, you gave him your name, taking his hand and smiled. "Hello, Duruk."

•

True to his word, you met again later when lunch came. The cafeteria was packed so you settled on getting the convenience food they offered and eat somewhere quiet.

Your conversation that day spiraled when you found out the two of you had a lot in common. From your favorite rock band to your favorite flavor of ice cream.

You both strongly agreed that vanilla ice cream was superior.

You agreed to meet up during breaks, always having something to chat about.

Eventually, you became inseparable.

He even changed and transferred to your class just so the two of you could be together at the start of the day rather than walk half of the campus to see each other every time.

You became best friends, sharing each moment in school, may it be helping the other stay awake in a boring class, or copying homework when one of you forgot to do it. Soon enough, Duruk started inviting you to his house to hang out. He did mention he had four other siblings, but he lived alone. You came by almost every night and on whole weekends to escape from home, only a few miles in between. No one would notice you gone anyways, but you returned around midnight, not wanting to impose on Duruk no matter what he says, so he walks you back instead.

You basked in each other's company. The odd and scrutinizing glares didn't go unnoticed when you two were together, but you shrugged them all off.

It didn't take long before you started having feelings for the orc, a little wishful thinking that you could be more than friends. You noted lately that his touches would linger seconds longer than usual, hugs and even a hand on your shoulder and back seem to be warmer and —you dare say— affectionate. It weighed heavily on your heart, your simple crush turned into something else, and it only grew with each passing day, and every laugh you shared.

But of course, you swatted those away, buried them deep inside every damn time they climb back up. Who could even love you? Yes, you have Duruk, he likes you, you think. But that's the end of it. Just close buddies. You can't take the risk of ruining your friendship with him and make things awkward with the only one you had! What if he stops talking to you, weirded out by your confession? You don't want to go back to being alone again, your heart can't take the rejection that came with it.

So you endured.

•

A little over five months ever since the embarrassing accident, here you are now, stargazing with your best friend.

"Well, good thing you didn't watch where you were going that time then," he says, chuckling beside you. His hands cushioned his head against the hard surface. "I wouldn't have..." he trails off.

"Hm, what?" you ask. Duruk went silent and didn't answer you for a time. You were about to let it slide but then he breathes in audibly.

"I wouldn't have met an angel if you did. Should've caught you in my arms, but sadly I didn't move fast enough." He replies, his voice deep and mellow.

You straighten up and turn to face him, your brows shot up, incredulous to what he just implied.

"W-Wait. What?" you squeak, your heart thumping hard in your chest, your skin warming up even in the chilled night air.

Is he—

"You're so cute, y'know that? Fuck it, it's all or nothing," he whispers under his breath as he sits up to face you. His expression was unreadable, but you see in his mahogany eyes a familiar glint of determination. "I'm not good with long-ass speeches so I'll make this short," he breathes in before he continues, "I feel something for you, for a while now, more than a best friend does, like...in a romantic sense. I want to cherish you and hold you in my arms every time I see you, I- ah fuck- damn it I just—" he growls, "I love you, so much and if you don't love me back then please re—"

You shut him off with your lips against his, Duruk's tusks pressing against your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. He was stunned for two solid seconds before returning the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you close and into his lap.

You feel something wet roll down your hand and you immediately jerked back to see his face. The orc was crying.

Did you do it wrong? Were you so terrible at it—

"I don't deserve you... A monster like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

Where was this coming from??

"Say that again, I dare you."

"I don't de—"

This idiot!

You pecked his lips to cut him off.

"You big dummy," you begin, "I love you too, idiot. You may be a monster but not what everyone else defines you as. I love you as you are. You're my best friend, and dare I say my l-lover now. Is that right...?"

Duruk gives you a small, gentle smile, "If you'll have me, then yes, for as long as you want me to be." He says, sniffling a sob as a couple more tears tumbled down his rugged face.

You never thought you'd see him like this. He was the one who kept making you laugh with his stories and terrible jokes. Before you, in your hands was someone vulnerable, his eyes soft and fond as he gazed into yours.

It made your heart pound and it hurt.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, kissing once again, deeper and more intimate this time. Real. You brought your arms around his neck, your tears spilling out and he tightened his grip around you. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but the way he hugged you like you were the only thing that anchored him in this world made you believe it wasn't. All of this was real and you couldn't be anymore happier.

From above, the glittering stars, the light gentle as they shone, bear witness to two freed hearts, bottled up feelings gushing out like a broken dam as you embraced one another and lost yourselves in the moment of bliss, cheeks stained and clothes lightly damp from the tiny rivulets of liquid that dropped down.

It's a lovely night, isn't it?

[raeynbowboi]

Building an Embodiment of the Fairytale Princess (2.0)

This is nothing new. I’ve done this build before, which I’ll link right [here]. The post did really well, and people seemed to love the concept. However, since then, Mythic Odysseys of Theros and Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything have both come out, bringing with them not only new subclasses, but new features, spells, mechanics, and elements that I couldn’t take into consideration the first time around. So, I decided that rather than just adding a tag on post like I did before, I’d just remake the build with the new features being taken into consideration. Like before, the focus of the build is to create an embodiment of the generic fairytale princess and not any one particular character. So without further ado, let’s get into it.

Like before, we’ll be choosing Variant Human for our race of choice. We’ll channel Sleeping Beauty to be gifted by the fey with blessings of Beauty, Grace, and Song for +1 CHA, +1 DEX, and Performance proficiency. We also get a bonus feat, and thanks to Tasha’s, we can now take Fey Blessed for +1 CHA. However, if she doesn’t cast with Charisma, then substitute those CHA bonuses with Wisdom instead.

The generic fairytale princess is a maid of purest heart, so we’re Lawful Good. But for your more rebellious princesses, Neutral Good or Chaotic Good are also valid.

Background is obviously Noble for proficiency with History and Persuasion.

CLASSES & SUBCLASSES

BARD

This one seems pretty obvious. Bards love to sing and dance, like your stereotypical princess. Because Charisma is their top stat, and they have expertise, it can make them great negotiators, and allow them to excel in dialogue interactions.

GLAMOUR

This college is very fitting for a fairytale princess, as it is focused on making oneself as beautiful and charming as the Fairest of Them All.

LORE 

Lore bards share information, whether they tell stories, recite plays, share philosophy, or spread juicy gossip, the Lore Bard gets more magical secrets, and added expertise to make your princess an even bigger Mary Sue. In actual medieval history, princesses often learned to play instruments and sing, recite prayers or poems, or tell stories to visiting guests, and it was considered a part of her education and duty to do so.

CLERIC

While not every princess is a devout religious girl, their stories tend to be set in the medieval period when a good princess would have been expected to be chaste and pious. So on that front, worshiping a good deity would be befitting of such a character.

LIFE

The fairytale princess raises up those they care about, and nothing is more supportive and helpful than keeping your friends on their feet. The Life Cleric turns your princess into a kind soul who weeps for her friends and patches them up after the battle, turning your princess into a useful ally against the wicked witches and dangerous dragons.

LIGHT

Not all Fairytale Princesses are passive or support players. Those who lean toward Light are the princesses who stand as the Big Good of their story and battle the forces of Darkness with the power of the Light. Of the three Cleric options that fit the archetype, this is the best option for being a powerhouse in combat.

PEACE

Don’t get me wrong, I still hate this domain for wearing the skin of the Love Domain we were supposed to get, and you can absolutely still play it that way. How this domain went from Love to Togetherness to Pacifism is beyond me, but it’s a fairly strong subclass. The classic princess archetype is supposed to be gentle and kind, fitting for one who worships a god of mercy and forgiveness. It’s a value often toted as the strongest characterization of the early Disney princesses.

DRUID

My first time building the fairytale princess, I ignored Druid as an option because the wildshaping didn’t really make sense for a fairytale princess, but a lot of the Bardic Magical Secrets were used to steal Druid spells. However, thanks to the optional rules from Tasha’s, Druids can now use their Wildshape to summon fey that take on the shapes of animals instead of turning into the animals themselves, which makes Druid far more viable, as summoning animals is very in-character for a fairytale princess.

DREAMS 

The Circle of Dreams has heavy Fey associations with references to the Summer Court ruled by Titania. It also is strongly focused on healing, and has a very Fairy Tale flavor to it. It’s an especially great option if you want to invoke Sleeping Beauty, as you can cloak your party while you sleep and send messages to people through your dreams.

SHEPHERD

The fairytale princess is strongly associated with animal buddies, and nothing makes better use of that than the Shepherd Druid, which focuses on amassing an army of critters. What’s more, the Unicorn Totem is very fitting, not only because Unicorns only approach maidens with pure hearts, but Shepherds of the Unicorn Totem get empowered healing.

SORCERER

The sorcerer is born with a spark of something special in them, and a lot of fantasy royalty have magical powers that other people in their world lack.

DIVINE SOUL

The princess doesn’t literally have to be the descendant of the gods, as the original name for the subclass was more about being favored by the gods. Still, if you want to lean into the idea of the princess as the Big Good against the Big Bad, then having her be born with the spark of the gods inside her makes for a neat characterization.

WILD MAGIC 

With the new Sorcerer Shards as I’ve come to call them, we were introduced to the Feywild Shard, which was heavily geared toward Wild Magic Sorcerers, which seems to be WoTC’s way of saying that Wild Magic Sorcerers are the fey-linked sorcerous origin, so I’m including it because of our fey connection. 

WARLOCK

This is the only class where there’s exactly one good option, but it’s one that works surprisingly well.

ARCHFEY 

As a Warlock with a Pact of the Chain, your fairytale princess can choose to Find Familiar any cute little animal companion, or a Sprite to be your Fairy Godmother. Or rather, you can sign a pact with your Fairy Godmother, and use your Chain Pact to summon one of her emissaries to help you. The Archfey patron themselves can act as your Fairygodther, granting you and your party boons and aid where they need it.

WARLOCK INVOCATIONS

Agonizing Blast Armor of Shadows Beast Speech Eldritch Mind Eldritch Sight Gift of the Ever-Living Ones Shroud of Shadow Voice of the Chain Master

CHARISMA vs WISDOM

The big split in how you build your princess falls down the line between these two camps. The wise princess works better as a Druid/Cleric, while a charming princess is more of a Bardlock. For me personally, as much as the Cleruid fits the fairytale princess, the stereotype of the princess is usually that she is gullible, naïve, and overly trusting. Insight is a wisdom check, and something the classic princess archetype is usually bad at. Granted, Animal Handling is also Wisdom, but the Bard’s expertise can overrule a low Wisdom score. Think of it like a clash between Princess Zelda from the Legend of Zelda vs Princess Peach from Mario. Princess Zelda is wise and is much more focused on leadership and protecting her kingdom. Peach is more about the pretty dresses and having servants help her. They’re two very different camps on the princess archetype. Ultimately, which one you choose will depend on the type of princess you wish to invoke. The Classic Damsel or the Wise Matriarch.

SIDEKICKS

A new feature added in Tasha’s, sidekicks are secondary characters that can help the party and are basically simplified character builds with fewer bells and whistles. There are three main camps:

Expert. Experts are clever and knowledgeable, be they minstrels, librarians, pickpockets, merchants, or assassins. They can pick proficiency with DEX, INT, or CHA saving throws, and can be proficient or an expert with any five skills of your choice, and humanoids also gain proficiency with light armor, simple weapons, and two tools of your choice.

Spellcaster. Trained in the secrets of the Arcane, be they a priest, a fortuneteller, or a magical creature. They can choose proficiency with INT, WIS, or CHA checks, and can be proficient in Arcana, History, Insight, Investigation, Medicine, Performance, Persuasion, or Religion. They choose a roll to determine their spell list: Mage (Wizard), Healer (Cleric, Druid) or Prodigy (Bard, Warlock). The sidekick has access to the spell list of the classes their role aligns with, as well as casting with that stat.

Warrior. trained fighters, be they a soldier, a city guard, a trained animal, or a hired sword. They can pick proficiency with STR, DEX, or CON saving throws, and their skill options are Acrobatics, Animal Handling, Athletics, Intimidation, Nature, Perception, and Survival. Warriors can pick a fighting style: either Offensive to add +2 to attack and damage rolls, or Defender to impose disadvantage on hitting creatures other than them while within 5 feet of the princess.

Generic Princess Sidekicks

Humanoid Guard Warrior (bodyguard) Humanoid Commoner Expert (handmaiden, governess, etc.) Humanoid Magewright Spellcaster (court mage, or advisor) Any Beast-type Warrior (animal companion)

Fairytale Inspired Sidekicks

Seven Dwarves - Dwarf Warrior Fairy Godmother - Sprite or Pixie Spellcaster Prince Charming - Humanoid Noble Warrior Wicked Witch - Barovian Witch Spellcaster Beast - Gnoll, Jackalwere, Orc, or Troglodyte Warrior Puss in Boots - Awakened Cat or Tabaxi Warrior The Frog Prince - Awakened Frog or Grung Warrior Three Little Pigs - Awakened Pig Expert, Spellcaster, & Warrior Big Bad Wolf - Wolf Warrior or Awakened Wolf Expert Robin Hood - Redbrand Ruffian or Bandit Expert Djinn of the Lamp - Dust, Ice, or Magma Mephit Spellcaster Pinocchio - Giant Stone Statue Warrior White Rabbit - Awakened Rabbit Expert Cheshire Cat - Awakened Cat Expert or Spellcaster

There is no actual limit to the number of sidekicks your character can have, so in theory, your fairytale princess could have an entire posse of talking animals hanging out and helping her.

Skills, Spells, and Features

As a Variant Human, we got Performance proficiency alongside our Fey Touched feat, and as a Noble, we have proficiency with Persuasion and History. For everything else, we’re just looking to be a standard Fairytale Princess. So we should look to be proficient with: Animal Handling, Arcana, Religion, Nature, or Medicine.

BASIC FAIRIES

Dancing Lights Faerie Fire Healing Spirits Spirit Guardians Summon Fey Conjure Woodland Beings Conjure Fey

BASIC PRINCESS THINGS

Animal Friendship Command Heroism Speak With Animals Animal Messenger Calm Emotions Find Steed Warding Bond Zone of Truth Conjure Animals Mord’s Magnificent Mansion

SNOW WHITE

Armor of Agathys Mirror Image Beacon of Hope Aura of Purity Heroes’ Feast

CINDERELLA

Fabricate Creation True Polymorph Wish

SLEEPING BEAUTY

Sleep Phantasmal Killer Dream Wall of Thorns Dream of the Blue Veil

THE LITTLE MERMAID

Charm Person Shatter Suggestion Tidal Wave Compulsion Control Water Dominate Person Maelstrom Control Weather Tsunami Storm of Vengeance

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Charm Monster Unseen Servant Tiny Servant Animate Objects Awaken Hold Monster Summon Fiend

Last time I built the fairytale princess, I gave her exactly 1 build. 18 levels of glamour bard and 2 levels of Archfey Warlock. But recently I’ve begun to instead put more stock in leaving builds open, showing instead the options that a player has to choose from. So, for this update, I’m not pushing for a specific build. I’ve laid out the appropriate spells, and the types of princesses that a player can strive to emulate with their spell lists. Consider this more of a guide to help you decide how you want to play your fairytale princess.

[fitzefitcher]

birthday rituals - horde side

so probably the people that actually kick this off are goblins. goblins to me read as Very Aggressively American, and so actually Believe in Birthdays and Birthday Presents and Cake etc., but I'm going to go ahead and tack on my family's own Birthday Rituals, in that there isn't just One birthday dinner per birthday. first there's birthday dinner on your birthday-day, with everyone currently in the house. THEN there's a second birthday dinner, with everyone in your immediate family. THEN there's a THIRD birthday dinner, for you and everyone you share your birthday month with, with everyone in your immediate family and also friends and also extended family also people that didn't manage to get in the first two times. Sometimes there are fourth and fifth birthday dinners, depending on who can show up. presents will happen either on your birthday day, or on the third birthday dinner for everybody in that month. presents are not guaranteed every dinner, but cake and ice cream are, and so is the song. The Song Is Mandatory Each Time There Is Cake, This Is Not Up For Discussion. also the week of your birthday you don't have to do any of the household chores just by exclaiming IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, or I'M BIRTHDAY, because it's your birthday. you are birthday.

orcs prior to thrall's horde probably didn't do birthdays per se? at least not the specific day. iirc they don't typically name their newborns until a specific nameday, which leads me to believe that this tradition maybe started out of waiting to make sure said newborn survived before naming them, which in a hostile world like draenor makes sense. so: orcs probably having 1 naming day per season, and you probably get to celebrate your naming day with everyone else who lived to see that season. there's probably some clan-specific rituals, maybe the shadowmoon are better about keeping track of your actual birth date for astrology reasons, but in general, pre-horde and old horde tradition doesn't seem like it would have time for something that's arguably pretty frivolous. but in thrall's horde, with warchief "raised by humans who celebrate birthdays" thrall, new gen orcs probably do something for birthdays, both because of cultural influence from humans and goblins, and bc they have stability to be frivolous. maybe there's not cake, but there's definitely a favorite meal.

trolls DEFINITELY keep track of birthdays but for absolutely insane astrology reasons. the zandalari's rigid caste system leads me to believe that upper-class nobles have their lives planned from the fucking START, so birthdays are EXTREMELY important in plotting out the entire course of your life based on if draenor is in retrograde or some shit. I think it would be neat if trolls had quinceaneras, given the mesoamerican influence. presents are probably more practical among the not-so-wealthy, and extremely ostentatious and politically driven for the very wealthy. depending on your star sign, you probably give thanks to whatever pantheon god you were born under. bwonsamdi is the equivalent of scorpio no I will not apologize or budge on this.

tauren are very similar to orcs in this way? mostly because the tauren's lifestyle prior to thrall's horde is very very similar to the orcs' lifestyle pre-horde, in general. given their proximity to nelves and their reverence for the sun and moon, they probably keep track of birthdays using what moon phase and season it is. it seems like camping and campfire culture is relatively important to them, so a birthday ritual might be less presents and cake and more telling stories around the fire about you, and your accomplishments and friends and family, and maybe telling some stories about folk heroes or the deeds of ancestors long past. but then: Horde Were Declared, and again similar to the orcs, birthday ritual probably now includes a favorite meal, and maybe a little more frivolousness.

forsaken are. having a weird time at all times always and forever, but I think a couple of them would hold onto birthdays, or at least feel Some Kinda Way about it. again, it probably doesn't become prevalent again until they join up with the horde, and maybe it's a little easier to celebrate someone else's birthday bc they're still alive, and maybe it's fun to see baffled rage on the faces of their new allies when it comes time to do Cake and Candles and The Birthday Song. probably when goblins join the horde formally is when the forsaken go Full Birthday Madness, much to the confused fear of the rest of the horde.

belves probably have a watered down version of nelf astrology, which in turn is a watered down version of troll astrology, though tbh they're so long-lived I'm not sure if they would care to keep track of actual birthday dates. probably what would happen is that they would reach a certain age number, and then sort of. just stop keeping track lmao? because they're effectively alive long enough that it doesn't matter that much. but, given their rapidly shortening lifespans in comparison to nelves, well. they probably are getting back into the habit of keeping track of them. probably again in the same vein as trolls, where the less wealthy give practical presents, and the very wealthy give ostentatious presents. probably after joining the horde and being subjected to the forsaken and goblins' collective Birthday Madness also corrupts them into joining the madness, also.

pandaren birthdays are relatively straight-forward, in that there's maybe some presents, but it's more about having a lot of good food and a lot of good booze. they probably have some coming-of-age milestone birthdays in which you get a specific present for hitting a specific age, but pandaren culture strikes me as very intimacy-forward, so gifts wouldn't be expsensive so much as thoughtful and of good quality, with the specific person in mind. maybe they prefer something crafted by hand by the person giving them the present, rather than store-bought.

the nightborne like. don't Get keeping the exact birth date at first? they're probably in the same boat as tauren in that they keep track of season and moon phase moreso than the actual date, and probably just kind of Forget how long they've been alive after a while lmao. but the nightborne at their heart Do in fact, like to Party, and the Birthday Madness is Inescapable, so: they, too, join in on the birthday madness.

[miceandmonsters]

Male Orc x Female Character

FWB to Friends to Lovers; nerd/jock; multi-chapter

You need to have actually had some old times for ‘old time’s sake’ to mean something, Ruban; 1.6k

Part 1

It was exactly four doorways, three hallways, and one frustratingly slow elevator ride between Nicole Williams and her crappy, crappy car in student parking. She knew the path well as she often left her advisor meetings to go straight to her car for… venting. Really it was the only spot on campus she could scream in frustration without having campus security called on her. Again.

As she watched her advisor give a personal lecture that completely missed the thesis of her project while belittling it anyway, the errant thought crossed her mind that she was paying for the privilege of being misunderstood and criticized. That was what broke her. 

She shot up to her feet, pulling her backpack over a shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Johnson. I just remembered that I have another meeting in ten minutes over in Windgate.” It was the furthest building that she could recall through the growing rage. “I’ll take your thoughts into account and email about setting up another meeting. Thankssomuch.”

Luckily, she made it out of the cramped, coffee-scented office without saying anything rude… well, ruder. She booked it around a corner and then collapsed against a wall, pinching her brow. Around her, doors slammed open and the hallway began to fill up. Deep breaths, she reminded herself, counting to ten before beginning again. At least this was the last appointment for her day. This nonsense from her advisor could wait till tomorrow. Plans of yoga pants and ice cream and trashy television immediately popped up, lifting her spirits somewhat. And then-- 

“Hey, Nikki.”

What fresh hell is this, she reactively wondered. 

Nicole turned around to find Ruban Stone, one of the star players on the school’s orc rugby team, standing just behind her with a notebook tucked under his elbow and a winning grin on his face. It was a large hallway, but he seemed to take up more than his fair share anyway. 

Checking surreptitiously around her to see if there was some other Nicole he actually meant to speak to, she frowned slightly and then replied, “Hey…” 

“Ruban Stone,” he said, resting a hand on his chest. “I don’t know if you--”

“Yeah, I remember.” 

“Oh. Good. Cool.” He nodded a few times, a rather pregnant pause following his introduction. “How’s the semester going for you?”

“...Fine?”

“Cool. That’s good.” Another pause, and her wonderings just got louder. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped closer, asking in a lower tone, “Um, could I talk to you?”

Her frown twisted into something like confusion. What in the world could someone like Ruban Stone want with her? “Aren’t we talking now?”

“No, I mean.” He pointed to a classroom door then glanced around the hall. Right, probably didn’t want to be seen talking to little old her by any of his groupies. Honestly, she was surprised he knew her name.

She sighed but pulled the door open and stepped into the empty lecture hall. The lights were off but enough sunlight came through the windows to keep the room from being truly dark. As he followed, Nicole noticed his t-shirt was at least a size too small, the navy fabric pulling tight across his rather prodigious musculature. Normally, she might admire the view, but right now it just served to annoy her. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Ruban sucked in a breath. “You took College Algebra, right?”

“No, I tested out of it before I started college.”

His hopeful expression fell. “Right. Okay, how about this--do you ever do tutoring?”

Oh, this conversation made much more sense now. “I have in the past, but not this semester. There wasn’t time in my schedule for it.”

He nodded slowly, pressing his tusks into his upper lip nervously. “Would you… consider making an exception for me?” That winning grin spread across his face again. He must have thought it was charming. In other circumstances, it might have been a little.

Her eyebrows pulled together as she squinted at him--was he serious right now? “There’s a tutoring center on campus. They probably have someone whose whole job it is to tutor algebra.”

His grin grew brighter still, and he rolled the notebook between his hands. “I know, I just… I thought that you might give me a discount for…” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “For old times’ sake.”

“What old times?” she shot back before she could stop the words.

“We went to high school together,” he said as if she needed reminding.

“Yeah, and so did two hundred other students on this campus.”

He struggled for a moment to come up with some sort of counter argument, but eventually conceded. That stupid charming smile finally dropping away from his face. “Fine. Look. I know we’re not friends--”

“We’ve never spoken more than five words to each other.”

“Yeah. But I have a test next week in algebra. And if I don’t pull at least a B on it, I won’t have a high enough GPA to stay on the team. So Coach told me to find a tutor.”

Her eyebrow arched. “And I was the first name that jumped to your mind?” she asked, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

“Yeah, kinda. I remember graduation. You needed a wheelbarrow to cart all your medals around.”

“I didn’t need a wheelbarrow.”

“No, you’re right. You needed a forklift.”

She rolled her eyes. “So what? You thought because I’m smart, I would do pro-bono tutoring for you? Do you have any idea how busy this semester is for me? I’m graduating in May.”

He frowned. “We’ve only been here three years.”

“I’m graduating early.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

She scoffed and shook her head. Today had already been far too long to deal with this shit. “Whatever, Ruban. Solve this yourself,” she snapped and turned for the door.

“Shit--wait.” Unfortunately, he was faster than she, getting to the door and blocking her way with a large hand slammed against the frame.

She glared up at him. “Move.”

“I’m sorry, alright? That was a dick move, I’m sorry. I just--I’m desperate here.”

“No, really?” she shot back, still pissed despite the apology.

“Yes. And I’m not asking for free tutoring, I promise I’m not. I figured we could trade.”

That made her pause. “Trade what?”

“You have something that I want, and… I bet I have something that you want,” he said, his voice pitching slightly lower and gaining an unmistakable gravel. It made her stomach clench in the best and most annoying way. But the idea came just far enough out of left field that she didn’t have a quippy come back.  

“Excuse me?” she replied, but she somehow couldn’t quite get the power behind the words that they probably should have possessed. Instead, it came out just above a whisper.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he held her gaze. “I bet you’re a busy woman, Nikki, too busy to really… take care of yourself.” His eyes, a warm amber brown, drifted from hers down to her lips then back up. “I could help with that. Throwing a ball and tackling guys to the ground aren’t the only things my body’s good at.”

Her mouth had gone very dry all of a sudden. “Uh…” Words, what were words other than mmmm yes? Should she be insulted by this? She honestly couldn’t quite decide because he was unfortunately very correct in his assumptions.

Ruban stepped closer, backing her up against the wall next to the door and boxing her in with his arms as her mind filled with exclamation points. He was quite a bit larger than her, all hard-packed muscle under deep green skin. He wasn’t actually touching her anywhere, but everything felt very palpable as he just stared at her. The air between them hummed with an electric current.

“If you’re not interested, just say ‘no’ and we can pretend this never happened,” he said in that same velvety tone.

But she really really didn’t want to say no. She had to look away from his face so she could catch her breath enough to respond. “I… um…”

“I remember the way you used to look at me back in high school. I bet I could make more than a few fantasies of yours come true.”

His voice was dark and full of so many promises. Combined with unhelpful inner voices reminding her precisely how long it’d been since she’d been with anyone else, she was having trouble coming up with a single reason to refuse. What was the harm, really?

“I’ll tutor you,” she finally said, looking somewhere past his elbow and blushing furiously.

His finger under her chin made her look up at him. “Thanks, Nikki,” he said, still low but more sincere than cloying now. He dipped his head, kissing her softly, reverently. By the gods, his lips were wonderfully full. The slight brush of his tusk against her cheek sent a thrill straight down to her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open a moment after he pulled back, and he was grinning down at her. “Little something in advance. Tomorrow night work for you?”

She nodded, pressing her lips together to stop the all too pleasant tingling. “Yep,” she squeaked.

“Cool. See you then.” He nodded once more and then left the classroom, leaving her blinking and feeling her still warm cheeks.

“What the fuck?” she whispered with no one but the empty desks to hear her.

Masterlist | Part Two

[grumpyhedgehogs]

tangled up in your old bedsheets

Summary:  Fabian wraps Riz in his sheet a lot, The Hangman is strangely jealous all of a sudden, and Riz figures some things out on his own.

~

It takes maybe a lot longer than it should for Fabian to understand exactly what’s happening with the whole “wrapping Riz up in his sheet all the time” thing. In his defense, there’s a lot of shit going down when it first happens. Riz has just been revivified only to be kicked off a fucking cliff by Kalina and the world is in peril and Fabian is stretching, stretching, stretching, to reach Riz before he’s lost to him forever. So when the fire elemental snags the goblin out of the air and kisses his cheek and Fabian curls his best friend into himself, swaddling him like a newborn, the half-elf doesn’t think much of it other than thank the gods you’re alright.

But then it happens again. And again. And again. And no matter what, even when Fabian doles out gifts and aggressively supports all his friends, Riz is the only one who ever seems to end up wrapped in Fabian’s sheet.

Fabian realizes this the summer after sophomore year and then aggressively stops thinking about what it could mean.

~

When the Night Yorb is defeated, Riz dies again. Thankfully Kristen is standing right next to him when he goes down so their rogue isn’t out for long but Fabian feels it deep in his bones. He sees the light go out of Riz’s eyes, watches, like he had just last spring, as his best friend falls, limp, to the ground. He sees him die and is unable to do anything about it. Again.

That evening, they have a bonfire. The final showdown had happened on the beach, where the Night Yorb had been ready to extend its power from the shores of Solace to Leviathan to Fallinel and beyond until the Bad Kids stopped it.

Now, Kristen and Fig are teaching Ayda how to shotgun a beer with mixed results. Adaine and Aelwyn are curled together, Aelwyn already trancing after using every ounce of her abjuration magic to keep her sister from being completely obliterated in the last ten minutes of the battle. Gorgug had almost immediately been mobbed with invasive, uncomfortable relationship advice from the Seven Maidens, who had come to help in the last fight after Riz had cracked the code which revealed the location of the Night Yorb’s power source with Zelda’s help. The half-orc seems fine, if a little overwhelmed by their chattering--Zelda is at least acting as something of a buffer.

Fabian and Riz had been side by side to strike the finishing blow to the Night Yorb when it went down. He’d turned and looked at Riz and had seen the bruises and the blood and the lines of pain in his face and had pulled out his sheet without hesitation. Riz hadn’t even pretended to protest.

Now, as they sit in the shadows, the fire’s light flickering over the bags under Riz’s eyes and the hollows of his cheeks, Fabian doesn’t pretend to resist the urge he has to pull the fabric tighter around Riz, tucking it between his arms and chest so it can’t pull free when the goblin shifts. He’s pressed up against Fabian’s side, half on top of him as Fabian drapes his arms around him and pulls one knee up against his back. His other leg extends out towards the fire and they’d both kicked off their shoes like everyone else had a long time ago. He digs his toes into the cold sand and lets it remind him he’s alive. They have survived.

“You know, I’m not actually that cold,” Riz mutters. His ears are drooping with exhaustion. Fabian hums and leans his chin on the crown of his head. Riz’s hair smells like seasalt. “You could take your blanket back now.”

“Battle sheet,” Fabian corrects absentmindedly. “You uncomfortable?”

“No.” His voice is so soft. He wriggles one hand out of the sheet--Fabian feels an unhappy rumble begin in his chest--and curls his clawed fingers around Fabian's hand, splayed in the sand beside Riz’s sheet-encased hip for balance. Fabian tightened his grip immediately. The rumble dies in his throat. “No, I’m not.”

“Good.” Fabian tugs the sheet just a little more, secures it, and rests.

~

It happens when they’re not in mortal danger or coming down from a battle high, too. The first time Fabian notices it--and when he notices Riz noticing it--is movie night. All the Bad Kids as well as Ragh, Tracker, Ayda and Aelwyn are gathered at Mordred Manor, sprawled over couches and armchairs and across the floor. Fabian is cuddled up to Aelwyn on the couch, Adaine on her other side, when he is chosen to be the first sacrifice in the name of snack refills. Naturally, he tells everyone goodnaturedly that he hates them, and goes.

Fabian isn’t even really thinking about it when he does it.

He comes back and sets the popcorn in Tracker’s lap and hands the sodas out and then he realizes that his spot next to Aelwyn has been filled by Fig, who is sitting with Ayda in her lap and very much not paying attention to the crystal screen. Both Abernant sisters do not look like they appreciate this development, but neither are very likely to say anything in the name of keeping the peace.

So Fabian shrugs and begrudgingly lopes over to the cushy armchair with the winged back where Riz is curled up with his knees to his chest. The Ball looks up, startled, but doesn’t make a sound when Fabian picks him right up, plops down in the armchair and then sets The Ball down beside him. Without even really looking away from the movie, the half-elf digs out his sheet and unfolds it, letting the sparks settle before he spreads it over both of them. Riz is wedged between his left thigh and the armrest, small enough that he doesn’t have to fully sit in Fabian’s lap to share the space. He does have to lean into Fabian’s side to see the screen around him though; Fabian feels more than sees The Ball glance at him out of the corner of his eye. His tail slaps once, twice against Fabian’s side, and Fabian drops his arm onto The Ball’s back in response, quelling the detective’s squirming. The Ball leans harder into his side and mutters to himself.

“What?” Fabian asks, defensive and not really understanding why.

“You know you could’ve just asked to sit down,” Riz says. What he means is, what the fuck, Fabian?

“Can we just watch the movie in peace, please?” Fabian replies. What he means is, please don’t call attention to this.

Riz shuts up. They watch the movie in peace.

Fabian catches Aelwyn looking at him that night, a strange gleam in her eye; it’s the one she gets when she’s mastered an overly complicated piece of magic that’s been elusive for a long time. Fabian shifts, but doesn’t let go of Riz, who is tucked even more tightly into his side as the night wears on, his head on Fabian’s chest and the sheet tangled up between them.

He shakes it off; there’s nothing here for Aelwyn to understand.

Nothing.

~

After that, it’s just an easy way of keeping track of Riz. The rogue has such high sleight of hand and stealth; he’s really a menace to society. Fabian is doing the authorities a favor, honestly. It also helps him get used to how to whip the sheet in a non-lethal capacity, teaches him how hard to snap the fabric around someone’s ankle to send them careening back to their spot on the couch, or how to flick it around their waist to pull them back to his side without leaving bruises. He even gets good enough to snag Riz’s tail and yank him back from the curb when he went to step into the road without looking up from his clues, which is probably the coolest thing Fabian does that week.

Riz complains and pouts and never tells him directly to stop, which he would if it were a real issue. But since he is a gentleman first Fabian asks, just to make sure.

“I don’t--really mind, actually,” Riz says haltingly. The tips of his ears are slowly turning turquoise. Fabian is extremely interested in this development. For science, of course. “It’s nice, knowing--uh, knowing you’re there to, like, catch me. If I fall. Or something. And the elemental keeps the sheet really warm, so. It’s nice. I don’t mind.”

Fabian grins, and something strange and pleasant settles in his chest.

~

The first time he really has to confront the idea that maybe it’s not just Fabian being paranoid about the amount of time he spends wrapping Riz in a sheet is when Aelwyn breaks up with him. It’s been coming for a long time, so obvious it’s like staring down an oncoming train. Aelwyn is trying to be kinder now, has been working on being gentler with people, and so of course she comes to their meeting at the ice cream shop with a delicately worded bullet point list on why they can’t be together anymore.

“And really, we did both acknowledge exactly how unhealthy for each other we are when we got into this,” she finishes, looking up at him over the rims of her new catlike glasses. She and Adaine match now. “I mean, I very explicitly stated how bad an idea this was and you agreed.”

“Yeah,” Fabian says, because he did. It still doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Honestly Fabian, sometimes I--I wonder why you even said yes in the first place. It’s not like you don’t have another, probably better, option hanging around all the time.”

He has no fucking idea what that’s supposed to mean. “I have no fucking idea what that’s supposed to mean.”

Aelwyn looks at him, shrewd and calculating, and then sighs. “Men. You’re all so useless.”

“Hey,” Fabian says, halfhearted. She just broke up with him; it’d be nice of her to display a little consideration.

Her mouth presses into a thin line, and even though he knows she’s not happy about this either, Fabian gets the distinct feeling she’s laughing at him. Just a little. “How come you never wrap me in your sheet?”

“Wh-what?”

“You always wrap Riz in your battle sheet. Constantly. I’ve counted three times this week, Fabian, and it’s only Thursday. How come you never wrap me in your precious battle sheet? I was your girlfriend up until this moment, wasn’t I?”

“I have no idea what The Ball has to do with you breaking up with me,” Fabian tells her honestly.

“Everything, my dear.” Aelwyn says as she stands and tosses a five dollar bill on their table in Basrar’s. “Absolutely everything. Think about it.”

~

The Ball has nothing to do with this.

“You have nothing to do with this.” Fabian tells him when Riz rushes into his room in Seacaster Manor, armed with dvds and ice cream and a grim expression Fabian recognizes from the moment before he ate Kalvaxus’s face off.

“Well if you didn’t want me here why did you call me?” Riz asks, looking affronted. He takes a step towards the door but wavers, looking back and forth between the hallway beyond and Fabian’s teary, red face. “Look, I wanna help, but if you need some time alone--”

“No! That’s not what I meant.” Fabian flaps one arm at him frantically. “I just-- it’s just stupid, never mind, just get over here, The Ball.”

Riz dumps the items in his arms and bounds over, sympathy leaking over his expression. He stops by the foot of the bed which is too far away and Fabian would roll his eyes and whip the sheet out for him if he weren’t already wrapped up in it and trying not to look like he’s been crying for the past hour and a half. He has not. He has only been crying for an hour and twenty minutes, thank you very much.

“I’m really sorry, Fabian,” Riz says, soft and kind and what Fabian needs to hear and what he wants none of at the same time. “I know you really like Aelwyn.”

Something in The Ball’s expression shifts, a little, drops down and gets even more serious and Fabian feels that instinctive, commonplace need to know more about him. Fabian fails an insight roll though, and shakes his head. He reaches out again. “Just, just come here, The Ball, gods--”

“I’m standing right next to you--” is all The Ball can get out before he lets out a high little yelp and gets lifted into the air. He’s so light Fabian can manhandle him onto the mattress and into the sheet with one arm. Fabian wonders if he’s getting enough to eat, if he’s spiraling in his office too much, if he hasn’t been sleeping lately. After the Night Yorb incident, he and The Ball had slept in the same bed on and off, on the promise to wake each other up when they had nightmares. It was a terrible few weeks.

The only thing Fabian misses, he admits to himself as he sets The Ball down on the mattress next to him and drapes half of the sheet across his shoulders, is the warmth he woke up to every morning. Riz is a familiar, reassuring weight against Fabian’s side; he didn’t realize after the nightmares went away and The Ball started sleeping over on the weekends rather than every night how much he would miss this.

Riz is, as always, game once he realizes what the plan is. He curls up under the sheet with a familiarity that makes the pressure in Fabian’s cracked chest ease just a little. He wraps his arms around Fabian’s middle and his tail flicks up to curl loosely around Fabian’s wrist where his arm is hooked around The Ball’s shoulders. The sheet is soft as cream and silvery in the low light as it folds around them both; it is on autopilot that Fabian takes the edges of the sheet and tucks them around his friend, until they are nothing more than a weirdly shaped lump of fabric.

“I’m supposed to comfort you right now, not the other way around,” The Ball points out, humor coloring his tone even as he keeps his voice low. Fabian leans harder against him and Riz grunts.

“You are,” Fabian says. “You are.”

He’s not okay, but he will be.

~

Fabian gets over Aelwyn relatively quickly, which should probably be a sign of how serious he actually was about her. But there’s still something strange in not looking forward to meeting her now, after a year of striving to get information on her, a year of striving to get her out of prison, a year of striving to come off as anything besides an awkward teenage boy when she kisses him. It leaves Fabian at a bit of a loose end.

So, naturally, he makes it The Ball’s problem. Or not-problem. It’s more like a solution. He is the solution to The Ball’s depressing self-care mystery. The Ball, it is unsurprising to note, is terrible at taking care of himself. Fabian, on the other hand, has literally trained all his life to protect and fight for others; he’s gotten very good at turning this innate urge into making sure The Ball eats enough and sleeps enough and takes a goddamn break every once in a while.

Case in point.

“Come on, The Ball,” Fabian whines. “This place is honestly so depressing, you reek, and I know for a fact you haven’t slept in three days. It is time to go home.”

“My mom asked me to help her, Fabian,” Riz says. He doesn’t turn to look at Fabian when he speaks, nimble fingers spidering across a map of Elmville he has set up on the wall. There are strings of different colors connecting seemingly random locations together, but Fabian does not doubt they make sense to The Ball. It must be a serious case, anyway; The Ball only loses his hat and tie when it’s serious business. “I can’t give up now.”

“It’s not giving up. Why do you always have to assume that stopping for a little while makes everything worse?”

“Sure feels like it.”

Okay. Time to pull out the big guns. Fabian takes a deep breath and prays Riz won’t hate him for this tomorrow. “Your mom is worried about you. Again.”

Riz’s head jerks around sharply enough that Fabian winces. There’s a sharp crack and Fabian watches as the ink from the broken pen in Riz’s clawed hand drips to the hardwood. Ah, well. That’s the least horrible thing that’s stained this floor. When the detective turns to him Fabian takes a hasty step back. The slits of his eyes dilate wildly, shrinking and growing in size rapidly.

“Did you,” Riz asks deliberately slowly, “just try to use my mom against me?”

“It’s true,” Fabian protests weakly. “She sent me here when I asked where you were. She thought you were with me anyway and she got really mad when she figured out you were still working. You gotta learn to take breaks, man.”

Just like that, Riz deflates. His shoulders relax from where they’ve been hunched around his ears since Fabian walked in and his hackles lower. He scrubs a hand through his hair, leaving trails of blue ink through the strands; Fig would probably call it a look . “I hate when I make her worry.”

“You make everyone worry,” Fabian says without thinking, before backpedaling like a champ at Riz’s scandalized look. “Wait! No! I didn’t--it’s just that you make her-- and me-- but you don’t mean to so it’s fine. Is it hot in here? I feel like it’s hot in here. We should go. Let’s go.”

“You worry about me?”

It’s the quiet way The Ball says it, quiet in the way he hasn’t heard often since the Nightmare King’s Forest, that makes Fabian square his shoulders and set his jaw in determination. He rolls initiative on a surprise round and succeeds. Nat twenty.

“Right.” Fabian declares, and reaches into his jacket. “We’re doing this.”

“What?” Riz’s eyes widen a second later, though, because his insight is crazy high and even his passive rolls are ridiculous. “Aw, no, Fabian, you don’t need to get the sheet out. I don’t need the sheet!”

“It’s too late. It’s already over.”

“Oh come on man, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“It's inescapable,” Fabian flourishes as the sheet unwinds and dances before him, obscuring The Ball’s view of him. “You’ve brought this on yourself.”

Between one blink and the next, Fabian has thrown the sheet about his best friend, movements fluid and expert from so much practice. He’s sure to leave Riz’s inky hand free, but he takes care to bundle his legs into the sheet. Fabian wraps one end of the sheet around the unoccupied arm before pulling it across his body gently and tucks the other end over his chest in the opposite direction before securing the free edge between Riz’s back and his own chest.

Riz is still so light in his arms as Fabian hoists him right off the ground and into a princess carry. Riz squawks and waves his one free hand in Fabian’s face, which makes Fabian grimace and lean back. Ink splatter across the desk.

“Spring break,” Fabian says. He meets Riz’s dark eyes, something in his gut sparking and fluttering and warming him all the way to his toes. “I believe in you.”

“Spring break, I believe in you,” Riz repeats, laughing and accepting the bardic inspiration before rolling his eyes. “It’s nearly winter, you dolt.” It makes something soft in Fabian curl up tight in his chest to hear his best friend laugh, to feel it reverberate in his own arms, in his own bones, and Fabian grins right back.

“The sentiment still stands. Just because you mess up every now and then doesn’t mean that you’re a bad son, The Ball. You’re just so passionate and conscientious and you want to make sure you do your work right the first time so no one gets hurt on your watch. That’s a noble thing to do. Your mom and me worrying about your well-being doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person; it’s just a sign of how much we love you.”

Fabian takes the stairs down to the parking lot as he speaks, focusing more on his feet than Riz’s face, because if he does focus on Riz and his wide eyes and the way his pupils are really fucking dilated right now and how his dumb hair is slicked back with ink and the way his ears are twitching and how he smells like coffee beans and old newspapers, the something in his gut will come up to his chest and constrict around his heart and then he’ll do something really stupid like lean in and--

Nope! Not dealing! Fabian gets his kisses in-- got his kisses in--enough already. No need to deal with all-- this.  

But then Fabian finishes his speech and The Ball makes a strange squeaking noise, and his hand comes to ball up under his own chin, and his eyes are still very wide and his face is so soft and he’s biting his lip, fuck.

Fabian’s hands are sweaty and he nearly fumbles his handful as he comes down hard off the last step, rolling a natural two on his athletics. He curses.

Sire! Are you alright? I will destroy the very stones which mock your footing until they are nothing but dust!

I’m fine, Hangman. Just tripped.

Shall we be escorting The Ball home, then?

“You can let me down now,” Riz says at that exact moment, just as Fabian goes to confirm with his bike. Whatever his expression meant before, the jolt seems to have knocked some sense into him before Fabian could roll insight, and the goblin shifts in his arms. Fabian tightens his grip reflexively, and Riz settles. “You don’t have to take me home.”

“Don’t have to?” Fabian repeats dumbly. Of course he has to! The Ball is his--his--The Ball is capable and brilliant, yes, but he is small and a rogue and Fabian is a martial class. He should be here, to make sure that The Ball is safe.

What do you mean we’re not taking The Ball home? The Hangman howls in the back of his mind. Fabian one hundred percent agrees with the bewildered sentiment.

“I have a bus pass now, I was going to take it home tonight anyway. You’re on the other side of town from me, so you'd just be going out of your way.”

Master! The Hangman exclaims, engines revving. The Ball must not stoop so low as to take the bus!

This is another development that Fabian didn’t really realize was happening until after the fact; The Hangman, for whatever reason, has gotten weirdly possessive of Riz. They’ve given more rides to the detective than the rest of the Bad Kids combined. The Hangvan has been the subject of more than a few arguments.

We are much more capable of protecting The Ball than this bus, Sire. With your battle sheet and my infernal soul, we will be an impenetrable defense!

Fabian isn’t sure what they’re defending Riz against, but he’s not going to disagree with The Hangman. They can protect Riz much better if he comes with them.

“The Hangman is right here, The Ball,” Fabian scoffs. “Don’t be silly. Just get on the bike.”

The Ball opens his mouth like he’s thinking of protesting but he’s also forgetting two very important facts: Fabian has eight points of Strength on him and has him wrapped in his battle sheet, effectively grappled. He hasn't got a chance unless he wants to take the fall damage from wrenching himself away from Fabian, which he would never do. Riz trusts Fabian.

A soft, golden glow starts up in Fabian’s chest at the thought. The Ball should trust Fabian. Fabian--Fabian wants to keep The Ball safe and warm and cared for, and like this, wrapped snugly in Fabian’s regard, The Ball is all of those things. It means a lot--so, so much--that The Ball trusts Fabian to provide this for him.

Okay, Fabian is getting off track again.

“You’re getting on the bike,” Fabian declares imperiously, and plops The Ball down on the seat before sliding on in front of him. He waits, The Hangman revving below them, until he feels The Ball curl up against his back. His arms worm their way around Fabian’s waist and his sharp chin digs into his shoulder; something in the half-elf loosens and expands and the warm glow gets brighter.

They’re silent on the drive home; he can feel Riz curl up tighter against the wind and the sheet flutters around the two of them. Sparks flicker across the fabric, retaining warmth against the night’s coming chill. Fabian purposefully drives slowly, lets the time tick by as Riz presses warm up against his back, safe and sound and wrapped in Fabian’s protection, with Fabian’s bardic inspiration flowing through him. He also purposefully does not consider why this is so very important to him.

It is only when they stop outside Riz’s apartment and he disembarks--The Hangman lets out a low rev of his engine, almost like a purr-- that they break the soft silence that’s descended.

“Back at my office,” Riz starts, faltering, as he hands the sheet back. “You said--you love me?”

Panic bursts like fireworks in Fabian’s chest. “Wh-uh?” He says. “Uh. Uh. You have ink in your hair.”

Then Fabian makes a tactical decision and runs the fuck away. It is not his best moment. (However, since Chungle-Down Bim isn’t there, it’s also not his worst.)

~

He is not avoiding The Ball. He is regrouping, coming up with a strategic return and possibly a retaliation for whatever weird, confusing, warm feelings Riz keeps setting fire to in his chest. This is strategy. This is war.

This, frankly, sucks. So much.

The Ball has called four times in the past week before giving up abruptly on Wednesday. It is Sunday afternoon. They usually spend Saturday night watching movies or going to Basrar’s together and then take Sunday to spar (for Fabian) and go over the latest town mystery (for Riz). They have done neither of these things; they also have not texted, spoken or passed each other on the street. Riz is supposed to come over for homework and hot chocolate on weekdays in the winter. He’s supposed to give The Ball rides home every day, to make sure he doesn’t have to walk home in the rain or snow. They’re supposed to be together--

And Fabian has no one to blame for their separation but himself. It twists his gut, seeing The Ball light up his phone so much before the calls stop and he’s left with nothing but unending silence. He can’t seem to stop trying to catch a glimpse of him in the halls at Aguefort, looking for a briefcase or a flat cap, anything, anything. But In the end, he’s the one avoiding The Ball. He’s the one not answering his phone.

He’s the one with weird feelings in his chest.

This cannot, Fabian realizes, possibly go on. He’s having trouble sleeping, and when he does he’s gone back to having nightmares about Riz falling during the Night Yorb debacle. He needs to sort this out, fast.

But Riz is a rogue and so his stealth rolls win out every damn time against Fabian’s perception, and  throughout the next week there’s no time between classes to catch him and he’s nowhere to be found at lunch.

Adaine doesn’t seem too happy with Fabian either, and hasn’t since this weekend. Riz must have said something to her about him, but she relents easily enough when she sees his frantic expression.

“He’s been skipping class to work on that case with his mom for a couple days,” she says. “He--doesn’t really want to see you that much, Fabian.”

It feels like his heart breaks at that, but Fabian smiles winningly anyway. “Who wouldn’t want to see me? I’m Fabian Aramais Seacaster.”

“Son of Bill Seacaster, yeah I know,” Adaine finishes, and at least she’s got that fond exasperation back. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, Fabian, but you’ve got to fix it. I can’t take Riz moping around much longer. He’s been insufferable.”

“Leave it to me,” Fabian says with more confidence than he’s feeling, and peels out of the parking lot with a roar from The Hangman.

He thinks maybe things are going to be okay, somehow; he’ll make a suitably dramatic entrance, and he’ll say all the right things to get Riz to forget that Fabian had some kind of crisis for a week and change and didn’t bother to let his best friend in on it and they’ll go back to Seacaster Manor and watch dumb B-movies and everything will be fine and Fabian won’t have to confront this weird thing growing perilously close to his heart.

And then he steps into Riz’s office and faces reality.

“What do you want?” Fabian winces at the flat tone of Riz’s voice, the way his eyes won’t meet Fabian’s, the way he’s crossed his arms over his chest and hunched in on himself.

“I--well--uh, that is--” Fabian pauses, breathes. “I just thought I’d check up on you, since last time I was here you were about to fall asleep on your feet. I heard you were working too late again.”

Riz’s mouth is a flat, thin line. “That’s what you want to talk about? My work habits?”

“Well--I--work-life balance is a very real, serious thing, The Ball. Not everyone can be as healthy and committed to self-care as I am. I thought I would help you out, like always.” This is the part where the movie hero would puff out his chest and the girl would fawn all over him and they’d live happily ever after. Fabian doesn’t really feel up to puffing out his chest when Riz’s eyes go hard and flinty like that.

“It didn’t really seem like you cared about my self-care when you were refusing to acknowledge you loved me.”

Oh. Oh.

And that’s just it, isn’t it? The last piece of the puzzle slots into place, and Fabian is absurdly glad Aelwyn isn’t here to cast Detect Thoughts and laugh at his misery as he realizes what she knew practically from the start. Because he’d said it before--toxic masculinity is over. He’s in touch with his emotions now, and he loves his friends and he’d had a hard time showing it or saying it in the beginning but these days his affirmations roll off his tongue like so much honey so why has he had such a hard time with The Ball?

Of course. Of course he loves Riz. It’s--it’s not even that much of a revelation somehow; it’s like he always knew somewhere deep in his soul that they’d end up like this, with Riz being brilliant and brave and kind and Fabian loving him and loving him and loving him. Admitting it to himself, for how hard it has been to see it clearly in the first place, is easy. It’s like saying the sky is blue or Arthur Aguefort is insane. It’s just a fact. Fabian Aramais Seacaster loves Riz Gukgak.

He’s in love with this strange little goblin man and he’s been so dumb about it.

“Okay, okay,” Fabian says, more to himself than The Ball. What happens now? What is he supposed to do? Should he just come out and say it? Or, no, Riz might think he’s joking, or trying to smooth things over. He'd hate it if Riz thought Fabian didn’t mean it the very first time Fabian says those words. Besides, they’re having an argument--a real one, which he doesn’t think they’ve ever had--and this is so not the time. No, he'll tell him after this is over, when they’ve made up and Fabian has taken care of Riz because he does really look like hell, all bags under his eyes and stiff limbs. He needs to apologize, probably, and then get The Ball somewhere safe and warm and comfortable and then he needs to do something grand and dramatic and then he can tell Riz Gukgak he’s in love with him.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” It comes out sharper than he intends, but he’s dealing with wave after wave of astonishment and fear and love and he could use a bit of a break, to be honest. “Can we just forget it?” He has to get this over with to get to the next step of his foolproof, ten second plan to woo The Ball in which nothing can possibly go wrong.

“Forget it?” Riz repeats, incredulous. This is not at all going the way Fabian needs it to go. “You want me to forget the time you took back saying you loved me--when you haven’t even called me your best friend, yet--and drove off and then didn’t talk to me for a week? That’s something you think can just be forgotten? You left Fabian!”

“The Ball--Riz--”

“I’m not just going to let this go, Fabian. No. But if you think that I’m just something to be so easily swept to the side and then picked up again when you feel like it, then--then--great! Great. I see clearly now where I stand with you.”

“Okay,” Fabian declares, because enough really is enough, “it’s sheet time.”

“No, Fabian!”

Riz has never raised his voice outside of crazy group antics before. Not to Fabian, at least. The sheet flutters out of his fingers as Fabian stares, open-mouthed. His chest is cracking again, like it did after Aelwyn broke up with him, but this is worse now; this crack is not just a hairline or a fissure, but a damn canyon. It feels like someone reached inside his ribcage and scooped his heart out.

Riz’s mouth twists and he hugs himself tighter, looking as miserable as Fabian feels. “I don’t want your goddamn sheet, okay? I don’t--I don’t need you to act like I’m some kind of burden or--or--”

“A burden--The Ball--”

“Or calling me The Ball all the time!” Riz’s voice rises again. His fists are clenched now. “I’m--I’m sick of you wrapping me up like a little kid. I’m not a baby, okay? I can take care of myself. I'm fine on my own.”

“Riz,” Fabian tries again, weakly. This can’t happen. Not now. Not to them.

“I think it’s best if you leave now,” Riz says grimly, and turns his back. He doesn’t look around when Fabian closes the door softly behind him.

~

“I’m sorry.”

Fabian blinks.

He and The Ball only had their fight two hours ago; he’d got on The Hangman and ignored the bike's probing questions, and gone home and cried and then he’d gotten up and done what he’d thought Riz would do in his place. He made a clue board.

First on the board is the picture of himself and Riz taken the night the Night Yorb was defeated; Fig had snapped a shot without them knowing, of the two of them talking in the firelight, Fabian craning his neck to look down at a swaddled, comfortable looking Riz who was looking up at him, mouth open seemingly in mid-sentence. His hair is in his face and Fabian always looks at it and remembers how seconds afterward he’d reached up and pushed the curls out of Riz’s eyes gently. That was the end of the summer--it’s the middle of winter now. He’s been in love with his best friend at least since then, maybe before.

Next on the board is his half of the best friend necklace; he’d actually stolen it out of Riz’s briefcase on their way to fight the Nightmare King. It was after Fallinel, when he was getting back to himself, reinventing how he saw the world. He’d wanted to know--to have something, just a small thing, that reminded Fabian who really loved him. And Riz had been there.

So. Maybe he was a little in love with Riz back then, too.

The third clue was actually absent from the board, but Fabian writes it on a post-it note and sticks that there in its place; my old letter jacket. He’d gotten a new one when he’d been on the team in the beginning of sophomore year; he’d filled out too much, built up enough muscle from practice that he hadn’t been able to keep using the one his father gave him freshman year. He’d given it to The Ball because he was complaining of the cold one day and then just. Never bothered to take it back.

Riz wears it to his games sometimes. It makes Fabian--feel. Certain things. It’s fine.

The final clue is, of course, the sheet. He almost doesn’t bother pinning that one up either, since it’s pretty fucking obvious. Aelwyn could see it all just from the way he wrapped Riz up in his sheet, after all; he really doesn't need to rest of his clues to figure this out. But there’s something soothing in this, in looking at the world the way he knows Riz looks at it.

He’s just working himself up to maybe crying again when Cathilda knocks on his door and lets Riz quietly into the room.

“What?” Fabian says, because what?

Riz is biting his lip, which is entirely too distracting, when he speaks again. “I was--unfair. And a dick. And I've been--going through some stuff and I put all that on you, and I’m sorry, man. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I--I mean, I’m sorry too. I mean--you don’t need to be sorry, because I should be sorry. I just left you hanging and then spaced on you and I didn’t even tell you why, I just wanted to go back to normal. So I’m the one who’s sorry and you can’t take that from me. I’ll fight you if you try, just so you know. Stop being sorry.”

And just like that, the corners of Riz’s mouth turn up which is a relief because Fabian love him and just figured out that he’s maybe been in love with him for over a year, but he also knows that even before he knew he was in love he’d have done just about anything to make sure Riz never looked as sad as he does right now. He’d kill to put a smile on Riz’s face.

“I don’t think you can just have a monopoly on apologizing, Fabian,” Riz says and the way his name sounds out of The Ball’s mouth, gods, how did Fabian not realize this sooner? “I’ve just been--I’ve been dealing with a lot and you’re my best friend, man, and I just...It sucks not talking to you.”

“Yeah,” Fabian agrees. “It really fucking does.”

And then, opening his arms tentatively, “Can I?”

Riz’s face twists horribly then, and Fabian’s heart has just enough time to sink to his stomach before Riz throws himself into Fabian’s arms. Fabian holds him and holds him and doesn’t ever want to let go now, he’s got Riz and he’s pressing his face into Riz’s hair and lifting him up and holding him close to his chest and Riz is wrapping his arms around Fabian’s shoulders, claws scratching at the back of Fabian’s neck, he’s whispering into that twitching ear, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” and he loves and loves and loves and he doesn’t know if it’s supposed to hurt so sweetly but it does.

“I’m sorry, gods, I’m sorry,” Riz babbles into his shoulder and Fabian wants to tell him to stop but he’d have to interrupt to do that and he can’t, not when he knows Riz has such a hard time with the idea that his friends don’t listen to him. He folds at the knees instead, takes Riz with him to the ground and cradles him like something precious because that’s what The Ball is and has always been, precious and so important and, if he has his way, Fabian’s. “I’m sorry I acted like you didn’t care, I know you do, I just don’t want to ever make you feel like you have to do everything for me, like I’m weak or less than or like I don't get that you have other things, other people to take care of--”

And then Fabian does interrupt because like hell is he letting this slide. “Stop it, stop, I know you’re strong and you’re brave and you’re so smart, Riz, gods, you’re brilliant. I just-- I wanna take care of you, I know I don’t have to but I want to, I love to, I love you, I'm in love with you and I want to take care of you, please.”

It’s only when Riz rears his head back that Fabian realizes what just came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Oh, shit. Uh--I wasn’t supposed to say that yet.”

“Yet?” Riz squeaks and fuck it, Fabian decides. Fuck it all. In for a penny, in for a dime.

“Yeah, yet,” Fabian rushes. His fingers clench and release the fabric over Riz’s spine rhythmically and he can feel the goblin shivering against his chest and without thinking Fabian pulls down his sheet and wraps them both in it. Riz’s skin stands out dark and forest green against the silvery material and he hopes he likes it, hopes it is soft and warm against the thin, fragile surface of Riz’s cheek because Riz is so good and Fabian loves him and he deserves nice things. “I--I was gonna make a plan and strategize and not tell you until I’ve done at least three heroic deeds in your name, dude. I had so many ideas.”

“Ideas?” Riz’s voice is faint.

Fabian nods solemnly. “There were also schematics for a dramatic duel on the clifftops, but we’ve already done that a couple times, so I scrapped it.”

“Too much of a Nightmare King-Night Yorb repeat.”

“Yeah,” Fabian nods. “Exactly. So uh. Just. If you could pretend I haven’t said that yet, I can get on the heroic deeds and we can revisit this. Conversation. Uh, later.”

“Right,” Riz says, nodding slowly too. “Or we could, like, do it right now. Since I'm in love with you too and everything.”

Fabian’s brain stops working.

“Oh.”

“'Oh?' That’s it?”

“I, uh, didn’t plan for this.”

“You didn’t plan for me maybe liking you back? Dude, everybody knows already.”

Fabian draws further away at that, blinking wildly. (His hands stay on Riz’s hip and back because he’s got him now, he’s got him, Riz is in his home and his arms and his heart and wrapped in Fabian’s protection and he’s never leaving if Fabian has anything to say about it.) “Everyone?”

Riz scuffs the back of his neck and his ears are turning turquoise again. “Uh, yeah, man. Adaine told me if I complain about how much I like your eyes to her one more time she’s gonna get Fig to hex me. I um, I thought maybe you were doing the whole sheet thing to, like, let me down easy. Make me see you didn’t think of me as more than like, a kid or someone who needs your help or something.”

“Oh my gods. That is so dumb,” Fabian blurts, because what the fuck, The Ball, seriously. “That is so dumb The Ball. You’re so dumb.”

“Gee, thanks. I really feel like you love me right now, just so you know. Just overwhelming amounts of love pouring out right now.”

“Oh shut up.” Fabian says, laughing. “I wrap you in my sheet because I love you, The Ball. Like, more than I think I’ve ever liked anyone. It’s how Aelwyn knew we were over.”

“Huh?”

“She broke up with me and told me I never wrapped her in my sheet because I was always doing that to you.” Fabian explains, not even bothering to be embarrassed. “Because I've been in love with you for like, forever, man. She just realized it first because I always wanted to use the sheet on you and not my own girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Riz replies, sounding breathless. All things considered, Fabian’s going to take that as a good sign. He leans in now, presses his forehead to the crook of Riz’s neck, and breathes. Riz smells like newspaper and ink and old coffee and Fabian loves him so much. He tilts his head, nosing at the detective’s collar, and slides his lips over warm skin. He lets his teeth catch there, just a hint. “Oh.”

And then, before Fabian can even move, Riz’s hand is in his hair, tangled up in the strands, and he says, very fast, “By the way I’m demisexual, it’s on the asexuality spectrum and I was also being weird because I didn’t know how to deal with how attracted I am to you!”

“Okay,” Fabian says easily, drawing back. “Do you want to have a conversation about it? Because I don’t think I’m your guy for that, but we could go to the LGBT group meeting with Kristen next week and see if they have any resources. Jawbone could probably help too.”

Riz’s pupils are dilating slowly and his mouth hangs open before he snaps out of it. He looks less miserable now but still unsure and it’s not a good look on him. Fabian desperately wants to erase it. “That’s it? You’re not--you don’t think I’m weird?”

“Of course you’re weird, The Ball, but not for that. Besides, I think starting a relationship--we are starting a relationship, right--” Riz nods frantically, the beginnings of a grin forming, and Fabian pauses to lean in and press his mouth to the corner of Riz’s, “with the only problem being you don’t know what to do with all the insanely hot attraction you have for me is, like, the opposite of a hardship, dude.”

He stops then, considers, and then something terrible occurs to Fabian. He pulls even farther back and splays his fingers across Riz’s chest, feels his heart rabbiting there under his fingertips, and says quickly, “Not that I need you to have any kind of--any of that kind of attraction to me, Riz. I’d be okay, you know, with just this. Although you may have to tell me how hot I am from time to time. For, you know, moral support.”

Tension seems to drain out of Riz, has been since Fabian first started speaking, and this time it’s his turn to lean in and brush his lips across Fabian’s mouth. Fabian lets out a breath, takes in the scent of old newsprint and coffee and realizes he could die happy here. “You are, in fact, very hot, Fabian. And--thank you. For understanding. I might--I’m not super interested in sex, but. It’s a maybe. If you’d like it to be, for the future.”

“Of course I would, you’re incredibly attractive. But it’s not that big a deal,” Fabian says, and he picks them both up off the floor.

The sheet comes with them, sparks playing along the skin of his forearms but never burning him as he sets Riz down on the mattress because Riz is good and perfect and loves Fabian and deserves better than to sit on the floor. He doesn’t hesitate like he usually would now, and curls up around Riz, pulls the sheet over them both, encases them and pulls Riz close, closer, closest. “I love you. I’m probably not going to stop saying it now, just so you know. I’m going to be very annoying about it.”

Riz reaches up and brushes his claws lightly over Fabian’s brow and his smile is so soft something in Fabian melts. “It’s a good thing I love you then, or I’d never be able to put up with it.”

[monster-madame]

Impulsive Decisions (Breanna x Jackson) | Modern Orc Boyfriend x Human Witch Woman

Hello hello!

Here is a hetero NSFW orc boyfriend story, featuring a human plus size woman witch and an orc named Jackson!  

I couldn’t figure out how to photoshop the tempting rugby player photographed green (what a problem to have), so use your imagination.  <3

Details:  This is a reader insert story, but I do name the character becuase I find “Y/N” distracting.

Word Count: 6,305 [800 ish is smut]

* * * * *

You blew your hair out of your face, pushing through the kitchen doors into the dining area.  You normally didn’t work lunches, as you were taking computer science classes at the local university.  Classes made the lunch shift nearly impossible, but you were on break between spring and summer courses.

Walking through the packed dining room, you mentally noted to avoid taking lunch rushes during the future.  You definitely preferred the more relaxed pace of the dinner shift.  The lunch shift seemed mostly made up of  patrons who were on a time crunch for their lunch hour.  You winced as their stressed energy grated against your Senses. 

“Here you are,” you said to one of your tables, putting down your tray.  The guests smiled at you and continued talking animatedly to one another, they all seemed to be friends.  Their energy was open, fun and a little mischievous.

Vinnie’s attracted a more diverse set than other restaurants, and the table sat a good assortment of humanoids – a half-orc, a tiefling, a human (probably a witch by the tattoos) and a minotaur.

“Did you see that Jackson Scott is here?!” the tiefling whispered to the table.  “I can’t believe we’re lunching where JACKSON SCOTT lunches!  Wasn’t he just declared one of the riches men in Boston by The Globe?”  

You raised your eyebrows at that.  Vinnie’s was a nice restaurant, but it wasn't nice nice, like 5 dollar signs on Yelp! nice. What was he doing here?

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” you asked the table.  The minotaur asked for another side of Mayo.  “I’ll go snag that for you and be right back,” you said, mentally noting what drinks needed to be filled.

Turning to go back into the kitchen you heard a crash in a far corner.  Looking over, you saw that it belonged to one of your BFFs, Jill, who was red-faced and mopping up what looked to be marinara sauce around a really pissed off orc.  Jill is a slight dryad, and you could feel her stress emanating at you.

Striding over, you slapped on your best Hospitality Smile, ready to flex your energetic charms as an empath to diffuse the situation.  You strided over, noting that the patron was seated in what the staff called the “Do Not Disturb” table, that was situated behind potted plants and in an alcove.

Well, at least other patrons wouldn’t be able to gawk at the lot of you.

As you neared, you realized why he was seated at the DND table.  Oh fuck. He was a VIP.

It was, of course, Jackson Scott.  Jill had a knack for ticking off the wrong customers.  He was ripped, with the kind of body that would make Jason Moma ask for workout tips.  Beautiful tusks and a real energy of “fucking pissed off” about him.  Nearing 7 feet tall with dark hair, he was seated in one of the special chairs designed to withstand a taller being.

“Hello,” you said greeting him.  “We’re so terribly sorry for the accident.  We’ll of course cover the dry cleaning bill and help you get into different clothes.  We can send you home with a take out order and a giftcard on the house?  We’ll  cover the Uber, so you can get changed?”

“This,” he grit out, gesturing to his linen suit, “is bespoke.  And ruined.  Do you intend to cover the cost of a new summer suit?”

Um, no, the restaurant probably couldn’t cover a suit that would cover six months of rent.  Seeing your hesitation, his frustration grew.  

“Look, I came here for a quiet lunch between meetings, and if I had known the staff was so incompetent,” he said, looking at Jill, “then I definitely would’ve gone elsewhere.  Do you typically keep on staff that are so bad at their jobs?”

Oh, no he fucking did NOT.  Jill was one of their best servers!  Accidents happen!!

“Jill is one of our best staff members, and we so apologize for this accident,” you said, upping your mental defenses, just in case his energy became more aggressive.   “We have an excellent dry cleaner, and I so appreciate you helping us get this sorted out,” you said.   Sometimes thanking someone for being on your side helped them actually be on your side.

Seeing your words had no effect, you let out a trickle of an calm energy to the restaurant. 

Unfortunately, that little oomph of calm you tried to use totally backfired.  His tension ratcheted up. Your Hospitality Smile vanished right off your face.

“Are you fucking magicking me?” he grit out, shoving his chair back from the table.  

Technically, no.  You were magicking yourself and the energy around you, but you didn’t think he’d see it that way.

Desperately trying to figure out how to fix a situation that had totally gotten out of hand, you saw Gio, Vinnie’s son, headed towards them.  Oh, thank god.  Vinnie was human, and he was able to effortlessly engage with all types of beings.

Gio arrived on the scene, strategically placing himself so that Jackson had to move a bit to address him, shielding their party from prying eyes.

“What seems to be the problem here, Jackson?” he asked, addressing the Orc.  

“Your staff is fucking incompetent and magicking patrons, Gio,” he bit out.  “What kind of restaurant did I just put money into?”

At the word “money,” you looked at Jill, shocked.

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding,” shared Gio.  “Breanna would never magick a customer, and her magick doesn’t even work that way –”

“Wait a moment,” you interjected.  “He bought Vinne’s?!”

Jackson shifted his attention to you, realizing he had two shit shows on his hands.  “I mean, he’s more of an investor–”

Well, crap.  Spilling marinara sauce on one of Boston’s elite was bad.  Ruining the suit of an investor was even worse.  This could be disastrous for Jill.

Glancing at Jill’s face, you realized she had figured out the same thing.

Chewing your lip, your mind raced.  BAM! You had a solution. Jill really fucking needed this job and, you, well, didn’t.  The restaurant was trying to expand, and needed capital.  Telling Jackson Scott to fuck off wasn’t an option.

You knew what you had to do.

Turning back on your Hospitality Smile, you turned to the Orc. Jackson.  “Mr. Scott,” you said smoothly.  “I so apologize for your experience today at Vinne’s.  This is not the kind of service our staff is trained to give.  Because I trained Jill, I take full responsibility for this issue.  Faulty training isn’t up to our standards at Vinnie’s, so I’ll be replaced.”  

You then took off your apron, and handed it to Gio.  You then took out your mini-wallet that held your license, credit card and a few business cards.  You peeled off one of your business cards.

“If you’ll please send the bill to the email address on that card, I’ll be happy to reimburse you.”  You handed it to a stunned Jakson Scott.

The three of them stared at you.

“Miss, wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding –” Jackson started.

“No, no totally my fault,” you said with your Hospitality Smile, emanating graciousness and competence.  This needed to work.  If he asked Gio to fire Jill, Gio would probably have to. Although to be honest, if a prejudiced Orc now owned the restaurant – excuse you, invested in it – you weren’t sure how long Jill would have a job.

“I’ll let Gio sort out your Uber and meal.  Have a great rest of your day, Mr. Scott.”

And then you spun on your heel on and left the dining room, headed to the staff room to grab your bag.  You felt hot tears at the back of your eyes as you walked back.  No. You would not cry.  You kept your Hospitality Smile firmly in place.

The people at Vinnie’s were your family, the only family that mattered.   You knew you weren’t going to work here for the rest of your life, but you for sure thought you’d finish your degree before leaving.  And even then you had planned to work the odd weekend shift or get more involved in the back office.

But Gio and Vinnie had been looking for an investor for ages, needing cold hard cash to update the restaurant and expand to another location, for Gio to fully run.  They needed Jackson Scott.  More than they needed you.

You grabbed your purse, dropping off a side of Mayo and a refill on the Iced Tea at your table, before heading out.  “Another server will be taking over for me,” you told them smoothly. 

You left out the front doors, and you didn’t start crying until you were a few buildings down the sidewalk.

* * * *

You wake up the next morning, blearily scrubbing your hands over your itchy and puffy eyes.  What a crappy evening that had been.

You’d spent the evening googling the heck out of Jackson Scott.  He was an MIT grad, and he had built and sold several technology companies, and he was an investor in a variety of industries.  Photos showed him with his large clan, and he seemed involved in a good amount of charities.

Studying his photos last night, you could NOT get over how good looking he was.  He was broad shouldered with muscles, he had a rugby player’s build.   His gleaming tusks curved over his upper lip.  Dark forest green eyes and great bone structure.

Plus, he had recently had an interview in GQ, and the stylist had had fun with a few shots – Mr. Scott was apparently a Calvin's briefs kind of guy.  If those briefs (and what was likely under them) had made their way through your dreams, you couldn’t be blamed!  You couldn’t control your subconscious!

He probably had a good PR team, but your Senses told you that this wasn’t the type of guy to make a scene at a restaurant. But he had made a scene, and you had had to quit.

You rummage around to try to find your phone in your bed, eventually snagging it.

*** 47 Notifications ***

You groan to yourself.  

You’d turned your phone on airplane mode as soon as you left the restaurant, and promptly carbo-loaded as soon as you got to your apartment.

Sighing, you went to the kitchen to make some coffee.  As it started brewing, you began cleaning up after last night’s pity party, loading your dishwasher and wiping down the counter.The buzzer on your apartment rang.

**** BZZZZZZT  ****

You ignored it.

**** BZZZZZZT  ****

Go away!” you said aloud.  

Couldn’t the world respect your need to mope?!?!

**** BZZZZZZT  **** 

**** BZZZZZZT  ****

The buzzing became more insistent.   

**** BZZZZZZT  ****   

 **** BZZZZZZT  ****   

 **** BZZZZZZT  ****

You harrumphed and walked over to the speaker, pressing the button. “I’m not in the mood to see anyone today!”  you snarked into it.

“Ms. Alexander, I apologize for disturbing you,” said the voice of the and only Jackson Scott.  “We had a terrible misunderstanding yesterday, and I’d like to meet with you to remedy it as soon as possible.”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise.  What in the actual hell?!“How do you know where I live?!” you said tersely into the speaker.  Surely this asshat had something better to do than creep on chubby witches?!

He cleared his throat into the speaker.  “Ahem, well, yes I may have glanced in your personnel file.  I grew worried last night when you didn’t answer messages from myself or Gio.”

You opened your mouth to speak. Closed it. Opened it.  

Feeling like a fish, you cast your eyes desperately around.

Pressing on, he said, “Would you be amenable to a breakfast meeting?  Or a lunch meeting?  I have to go run a few errands, and then I could meet you at that little cafe down the street in two hours?”

Realizing he was determined to meet with you, yet respecting your boundaries by asking you to a public place, you decided to cut him some slack.  

You pressed the buzzer.  “Okay sure.  I’ll see you there in two hours.”

“Great, thank you for being so accommodating,” he quickly replied.  “I’ll see you there soon.”

As soon as the crackle of the speaker stopped, you were seized with a terrible realization.

You were going to brunch with Jackson Scott, and you had no idea what to wear.

************************

One hour and fifty-three minutes later, you were waiting outside the cafe.  After agonizing over outfits, ou had gone for what you hoped was chic casual, high waisted jeans and a front tucked white cotton button down with keds.  You put your long hair in a messy bun, braiding a headband to make it clear you put in effort – but not so much that you cared too much.

You went up to put your name on the list, “Hi, table for two?  For Breanna?”  The place was packed, and you weren’t sure how long the wait would be.

“Breanna Alexander?” the human hostess asked you.  .  

“Uhh, yeah?”

“Right this way please.”

She took you to the back garden, where tables were interspersed in amongst raised flower beds.  The flower beds gave the feeling that each table was in its own garden, and also made the air smell divine.

You loved this cafe.

Turning a corner, you could see Jackson Scott seated at a table (in a corner, of course).  He was almost too tall for the chair, one leg  crossed flat over the other.  He wore casual dark jeans and a light gray hoodie sweater.  

You brought up your Senses, shielding yourself from any aggressive energy that may come your way.

You got to the table, and he stood to greet you.  The hostess placed some menus down, murmuring something you didn’t catch.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said, his hand outstretched for a professional handshake.  He seemed earnest and a little nervous.  

“Well, I was a little worried you would stay outside of my building until I did,” you joked lightly, stretching out a hand and clasping his.

His hand engulfed yours.  Oh dear.

He warmly grasped your hand, and then released it.  You put your bag down, and then sat.  

Okayyyyyy, you said to yourself.  This is a professional breakfast meeting.  You need to make sure you call him on his shitty behavior, keep it together and not drool.

He cleared his throat.  “I want to start this out right.  First of all, I want to apologize for  my terrible behavior yesterday.  This has been a month from hades, but that’s no excuse for howI acted.  I apologized and made amends with Jill and Gio.”

Oh god is this going to be a non-apology?  Wait, why had this been a month from hell?

“And now, I’d like to apologize to you,” he said looking deep into your eyes.

He looked at you steadily.  

“I am so sorry for what occurred yesterday.  I am sorry that you felt you had to quit your job to help resolve the mess, and I deeply admire your quick thinking in a tough situation.  However, I’m not the kind of Orc who would expect or demand someone to quit over an accident.  I know Gio has reached out to you to be clear your job is still yours if you want it, and I wanted to meet with you in-person to promise that I would not behave that way in the future.”

He finished and looked at you, waiting.  You lowered the defenses a bit on your Senses, to try to get an idea of how sorry he was.

His energy was truly apologetic, truly apologetic.  You were getting embarrassment, self-consciousness and a good bit of hope from him.

Just then, the waitress came by.  “Have you decided what you’re having?” she asked, looking at you.

You hadn’t even looked at the menu.  

“Can you give us another few moments?”

“Sure!” she said brightly.  “I’ll just bring around some coffee if that’s okay?”  

You nodded and then looked at Jackson.

“Have you had the waffles?” he asked.  “Not that I’m biased or anything, but I think the combination of sugar and carbs could help put you in a more forgiving mood.”  His eyes sparkled at you with humor.

“Or a food coma,” you joked back.

Now that the tension had eased a bit, you realized you didn’t really hate him.  His apology had been full and fair, and hadn’t been one of those half-ass apologies you were used to the men in your life making.  Aaaand, truth be told, you probably should’ve offered to quit and let him get a few words in, before marching out of Vinnie’s yesterday.  You could be a tad impulsive. 

“There’s no need for waffles to inspire forgiveness,” you said to him.  “You acted like a total asshat, but I really appreciate you going above and beyond to fix things.”

His shoulders relaxed.  “It’s good to hear that,” he said.  “Do you want to look over the menu?  I know what I’m ordering.”

“Me too,” you said instantly.

“Waffles?”

“No, pancakes! Which are better in every way.”

This then sparked a debate about breakfast foods, which turned into you talking about food in general and travel.  Jackson was really smart and witty, and he was so fun to talk to.

As the meal winded down, you realized that you didn’t want brunch to end.  You really liked spending time with him. And looking at him.

“So, there was another reason I was hoping to talk to you,” he shared, as the waitress took away the plates. His energy wavered, and you could tell this was important to him.   “I invested in Vinnie’s because it’s one of the only restaurants in the city that accommodates different species, and I wanted to help grow that.”

You nodded.  This was one of the many reasons you loved working there.

He continued.  “That said, there have been limitations.  Species that aren’t as humanoid, say Driders for example, are welcome to come – but the staff has to move around furniture and it can make booking complicated.  Many beings want to come, but are worried about putting the staff out by having them have to go through extra work. I know you’re studying computer science, so I was hoping we could design some sort of online reservation system – like an app – that would help us better plan for and accommodate different beings.  Someone could book through the app, and their profile would signal staff as to what changes need to be made.  There’s a lot of kinks to work out – wait, before I go on, is that something you’d be interested in?”

Wow, you were NOT expecting this.  You did have experience in app design, and you could probably license an existing reservation platform and modify it to your needs.  Your mind starting whirling.

“Breanna..?” he asked, uncertain as to what you were gonna say.

“Oh, sorry!” you said, your face scrunching in embarrassment.  “I would be absolutely LOVE to work with you on this project.  How do we get started?  How do you see this working, from a meetings and timeline perspective?”

His energy perked immediately, and you could feel his excitement.

“Well, we’d have to start with user interviews….”

****

About a month later, part of your apartment was covered in frameworks and sketches.  Jackson had given you a small team to lead, and you were having a blast learning how to delegate different parts of the platform to the other freelance contractors on the project  - as well as learning a lot in the coding and design portion.  Jackson was pretty involved, meeting with you throughout the week and staying updated on progress.

Jackson acted more like a collaborator than a boss, trusting your experience and know-how.  But, technically, he was your boss (client?) as he was approving your invoices for freelance development.

And you had a giant huge crush on him.  You’d been having steamy daydreams about him for weeks, many of which involved you, him, the restaurant and a variety of sexual positions involving the bar.

Luckily he was an Orc with zero empathic abilities, or this would be really awkward.  Guys like Jackson Scott did not go for chubby computer nerds, they dated, like, supermodels.  Or high powered business women.  Or high powered business women who were ALSO supermodels.

UGH.

Your pity party was interrupted by your phone chiming, and you jumped to grab it.  You had assigned a specific ringtone to Jackson.  You told yourself it was because this was your first fully professional project, but the butterflies in your stomach said differently.  In a positively Pavlovian move, you scampered over to your phone, eager to see what it said.

Hey, Breanna – I’m going to need to move our meeting next week.  I have to go out of town.

Ugh. Probably to take his supermodel-tycoon girlfriend on a trip.

The phone chimed again.

A screenshot of his calendar popped up.

Is there a time you see free that would work for us to meet?  I realize it’s a lot to ask, but maybe in the evening?

Shoot.  Looking at his schedule you realized your classes, study nights and group project meetings all happened when he was free.

The only time he was and you were free was tomorrow night, which was a Friday night.  

Hey, no problem! You texted back.  Our schedules almost totally clash, unfortunately.  IDK if this works for you, but I could do tomorrow night?  I realize you probably have some event or probably forgot to put something on your calendar, but I can  move my Netflix marathon to a different night.

You sent it without thinking, then read it back as you waited for him to reply.  Reading back over it, you groaned.  

Great.  You had just told Jackson Scott you had no life.  You usually kept Friday night free to decompress, socializing on Saturday night or during the weekend.

Then another, even worse thought hit you.  What if he thought you were trying to finagle this into a DATE?!

Nope, nothing on Friday night!   He replied.

Thank all the gods.

Would you prefer to meet at the office? My home office? Wherever works for you.

Eugh, go into an office building on a Friday evening?  No thanks.  But also you were pretty sure you’d feel super nervous and out of sorts at his home.  You didn't know what his setup would be like, and you’d probably get all jittery worrying about his tech working or having a whiteboard to brainstorm on or or or

Then it hit you.  He could just come to your place.  You had everything here already, and your walls were practically ready for a presentation.  You had met with a few of the other contractors in your apartment, Skyping in the others who didn’t live in the city.

Would you be okay to come to my place?  I already have everything taped up, gantt charts and all.  You texted back, knowing it was definitely the best solution for you.

Sure! He instantly replied.

We could do a 6-9pm meeting?  Order takeout and eat while we work?

Perfect!  You replied.  Just no waffles. ;)

****

“This is not a date,” you told your reflection sternly to your reflection in the mirror.  “This is a professional project update.  You are a professional.  You are a leading business woman.”

You jabbed your finger at your reflection for emphasis.

“You are an empowered and capable business woman!”

**** BZZZZZZT  ****

It was show time.

“Come on up,” you said through the speaker.  

In a few moments, Mr. Jackson Scott was in your kitchen.  

Righto.

“Hey,” he said.  He swung his laptop bag off his shoulder and put it on the counter.  Your mouth went dry seeing his shoulder muscles flex  as he put it down.  He wore his usual uniform of dark jeans and a button down dress shirt.  You were wearing a jersey jumpsuit, your hair in a high ponytail.

“Food should be here any minute.  I realized it would be faster if we had it delivered instead of me picking it up.”

“That makes sense,” you said.  “Do you want to jump on in or should we wait for food to get here?”

**** BZZZZZZT  ****

“Never mind,” you said with a laugh, and a few moments later you were dumping chow-mein onto a plate.  You used your counter as a table, him on one side and you on the other, as your table was covered with project materials.

You chatted with him comfortably about school and Vinnie’s while you ate, and he told you some funny stories about his nieces and nephews.  Whipping out his phone, he started showing you pictures.

“This is Carrie learning how to hula hoop,” he said laughing, swiping through photos of an adorable orc kiddo, who looked to be about 7-years-old.  She was gleefully laughing in the photo, and she seemed pretty proud of herself.

“She’s so cute!” you exclaimed.

Just then a bubble notification appeared at the top of his screen.  Before you could stop yourself, your eyes darted up to the top of the screen.  

Just make a move already, dude!  

Then another bubble

Just be honest with her, she’s not going to think you’re a creep….. 

Then another bubble popped up

Waiting until the app is done isn’t gonna work, because it’s gonna need updates.  It won’t ever be totally….. [read more]

Jackson made a choking noise, then pushed the lock button his phone, putting it facedown on the countertop.  You stared at it.  Why was his friend talking about making a move and their app…?

Oh.

Your face felt hot.  Oh goddess, were you blushing?  You bet you looked like a tomato right now.  Your eyes met his.  

He cleared his throat.  

“So, um, this was not how I wanted to have this conversation,” he said, sheepishly running his hand through his hair.  There were those dang arm muscles again.  

“I didn’t want to say anything, because it puts you in a really awkward spot if you’re not interested in me, too.”

He glanced down at his phone.  “But, since we’re here, I guess I’ll just try to be an honest adult about this.”

“‘I’m, uh, really into you.  Like really into you. and I’m really attracted to you.  You’re smart, gorgeous, funny, and I love spending time with you.  I’d like to date, if, um, well, you’d be interested in seeing where this goes…?”

Your brain had fitzed out.  Date Jackson Scott?  Jackson Scott thought you were gorgeous?

Your daydreams and, ahem, sex dreams came running through your mind.  Spending time with Jackson?  Talking with him more?  Kissing Jackson?  Getting naked with Jackson?  Sucking Jackson off on the bar at Vinnie’s–

“Breanna?” he asked.  “If you need some time to think about this, I can totally go..?  We can reschedule?”

You snapped back to the present, where real sexy-ass Jackson Scott had just told you he was into you.

“Oh, um, no!  I’m sorry, I spaced out for a minute imagining jumping your bones.  I’d love to, um, date you.”

His face broke out in a grin.  “Jump my bones, huh?”

You felt your face return to its previous tomato state.

“Sorry, I definitely need to do a better job of thinking before I speak –”

He came around the counter, standing in front of you.  “No, I think you did a pretty good job of stating your position,” he said, bending down a bit, so that his mouth was about an inch away fro yours.  “I’m up for whatever you’re up for.”

Galvanized by his lips so close to yours, you leaned up into him.  You kissed him hard, standing up and leaning into him.  His hands came around you, starting at your waist.

You arched your back into him, going on your tip toes to get his hands to go a bit lower.  He obliged, kneading your lower back as he tongued your mouth.  His hands went lower, cupping your ass cheeks.

Needing to feel him against you, you jumped up on the counter, wrapping your legs around his torso.  You had fantasized about this so many times, and you ached to just rub yourself on him.  You loved the feeling of rubbing your clit over jeans.  

He gasped into your mouth as he felt you grind your pussy over his crotch.  “I’ve wanted to feel that for so long,” he said, panting and kissing his way along your neck.

“Mmmm, me too,” you moaned as he nipped where your neck met your shoulder.

Your breasts felt heavy, your nipples aching as they rubbed through your lacy bralette against his chest.  God you really wanted his hands on your nipples.

You tore at the top of your jumpsuit, pulling it off your shoulders so you could feel his mouth on your breasts.  He kissed the newly exposed skin of your shoulders as you shrugged out of it, his hot mouth making you ever more wet.

His hands traced along the edges of your bralette, teasing you.  “Jackson,” you whined.

“Oh, am I allowed to see what’s under here?” he lightly teased you, as you writhed under his caresses.

“Yes, please,” you whined.  “I need to feel your mouth on me–”

He shoved down your bralette, exposing your breasts.  Your nipples were completely erect.  He tweaked one breast and drew his mouth over the other.  Sucking and nibbling your breast, you moaned low for him.

“Oh my god, just like that, please, oh my god I need more –”

“What do you need baby, tell me what you need,” he murmured.

“Harder, I need you to bite harder” you said, ending your words in a wail as he bit your nipple harder and twisted the other one.

“Oh FUCK,” you moaned, feeling an orgasm begin to build.

“Please, my pussy,” you whined, and his hand dipped down to your crotch.  

“You want my fingers inside of you?” he murmured, his hand cupping you.  

“Yes, please, fuck me, fuck me hard!”

He moved away from you, swiftly pulling off the rest of your jumpsuit in one fell swoop.

“You’re so wet for me baby,” he crooned in your ear, slipping a finger inside.  “I can’t wait to have you ride my face.  I can’t wait to feel you ride my cock.”

His finger pumped in and out of you.  He added a second finger, looking at your reaction.  “More, please!” you begged.

He added a third finger, and you could feel your juices running down your thighs.

“Please Jackson, please!! Fuck me hard!”

He growled, his chest rumbling.  “Oh, I’ll fuck you hard, baby,” he said.  He pistoned his hand in and out of you, and you met every thrust.  Your orgasm built up inside of you, and he masterfully brought you to the edge, once and then twice – backing off before you could orgasm.

“Jackson, please!” you wailed.

“Please, what, baby?” he asked, grinning down at you as he continued fucking your pussy.

“Please make me cum!!” 

His grin broadened, and he increased the speed.  “Like that, baby?  You want it like that?”

“Yes!” you screamed, the sound cut off as his mouth covered yours.  You felt your pussy convulse around his hand, and you bucked with pleasure.

Wow.  

Your head fell against his chest, as you tried to remember how to fill your lungs with air.

“How you doing?” he asked, tipping your chin up to be able to see your face.

“I’m feeling pretty ready for round two,” you said, your hand trailing around to cup his still hard cock.

He thrust into your hand.

“I have condoms in my room,” you said, rubbing his length.

He swung you up into his arms and into the bedroom.

“Jump his bones,” indeed.

I hope you enjoyed this story!!  I’m excited to be writing more, and as with all authors, if you like it – reblog it! <3  

Send me a KoFi here, or check out my fave erotic monster novels on Amazon here!

[idjitlili]

Imagine Thranduil being your father, and you liking Thorin Oakenshiel.

Thorin x elf reader

Extra information: kili , fili nor Thorin die in the five armies

Warnings: nudity just boobs, uh slight mention to boner city x 2, plus smut indicated, pregnancy. Crude language.

(Ps I am virgin So sorry. But I have seen 12 year olds write some shit , I am 16)

Translations from elvish:

Dôl lín cofn=empty headed

Lýgion= son of snakes

***

It had been a year since the dwarves had been put in the cells of Mirkwood, and then escaped. A certain dwarven king had caught your eye that night , even with his hatred for elves he had looked your way two. You swore you saw his lips twitch up for a second. You had tried to reason with your father to let them go.

You looked at the dwarf with sorrow in your eyes and back you father. You began to speak,

“Ada I’m sure if you let them go you would have more of a chance to ge-“ before you could even finish , Thranduils head snapped towards you with disgust written on his face.

You didn’t look like your brother nor father you had e/c eyes , h/c h/l hair, plus you were female and you didn’t hate dwarfs. Your know was yet to make friends with Gimil.

“Do you not know of the stubbornness of dwarves y/n? They are Dôl lín cofn. Lýgion.” Your father basically spat at you , harshly making you flinch. Thorin noticed , he felt anger towards your father, he would never do that to his kin.

“Ada please. You will not help others reclaim their homes? I think they would be gratefu-“ yet again Thranduil frustration with you cut you off.

“You do not have an right in this matter , what did I tell you about getting involved. Leave.” You father hadn’t been your father since your mother had died. Legolas was more a father to you. Your eyes became glossy at his words, yet you didn’t move.

Frozen in your spot,you decided on whether to stay in Mirkwood or to flee with the dwarves and help them. You would have to say goodbye to your brother.

“Did you not hear me? Y/N LEAVE NOW.” Tears now streaming down your cheeks like a volcano.

Thorin felt sympathy for you, he saw that you really did want to help.

You left the room as fast as you could , to find your brother.

***

You had spotted him near the cells , it was the feast of starlight, your father would come looking for you soon for appearances. You rushed closer to legolas.

“L-legolas.” You sobbed for your older brother.

“Y/n what’s wrong,” he spoke concerned for you pulling you into a tight hug.

“I am leaving, you cannot stop me , I can’t live with Thranduil anymore,” You spoke looking up to him.

“Where are you going to go?”

“I am going help the dwarves escape, I’ll figure the rest out. I love you brother.” You whispered your him, then you let go over him rushing off to the cellar. He whispered I love you too before you left he knew you could look after yourself.

You had retrieved the keys , and met Bilbo one of the dwarves companions, he saw your tear stained face and he felt a desire to trust him.

The two of you rushed to the cells opening Thorin’s cell first. He looked up at you confused,then he noticed Bilbo he smiled. Once you had gotten all the dwarves out of the cells ,you had led them to the cellars ,which Bilbo insisted that you were to get in a barrel too. The other dwarves didn’t question your presence with them , after over hearing your conversation with legolas.

***

After that you stayed with the company which Thorin had allowed , as you shared the same hatred for your father ,he grew close to you. You had saved him and his nephews in the battle of the five armies, in which had led you to receive an injury in your side. Which led you to know.

The orcs were all dead now, you stood on the ice with Thorin , Bilbo , Gandalf AMD the rest of the dwarves. That was until you felt blood dripping from your side , only to look down to see the blood red on your green tunic. You felt suddenly light head , before you knew it you were falling, yet the impact of the ice never struck , instead strong arms carried you bridal style.

You looked up to see Thorin , muttered to you that you were going to be okay, you smiled at him, he began to run towards his home. You look forward to see the doors of it, and you see your father on his elk, with a worried expression on his face.

“Y/n darling , you are coming home with me, I’ll get you to the healers immediately.” He spoke to to u as Thorin approaches quickly.

“Fuck you Thranduil.” You hissed at him, his heart broke at you calling him anything other than Ada . he knew he had to let go , unknowly yet he would lose his relationship with his son too, in minutes.

Thorin had made it to his chambers with you in his arms, Oin came through the door straight after. He placed you in the middle of his bed, which smelt of pine , and earth. His covers made out of furs , and a blue velvet blanket under.

He pulled a chair on the left of the room , to the left of his bed , on the side which you weren’t injured on. He held on to you hand , which you held tightly on it , while

Your shirt was lifted slightly so oin could clean and stitch your wound.

Clenching on Thorins hand you look at his face , even with your elven strength he doesn’t wince , he just smiles. He rubs his thumb on hand your hand comfortingly. You didn’t show your pain , in your face but it did hurt, even with all your piercings that your father didn’t agree with , that you had done with a sewing needle. Thorin had eyes your bellybutton piercing minutes before.(if u don’t have one don’t worry it’s not important)

“If this hurts this much, fuck having kids.” You laughed dryly , as did Oin and Thorin. Thorin lifted your head slightly to help you drink some water Kili had brought. You thanked him.

Soon Oin was done and had wrapped your side with an bandage, you thanked him , he left saying it was no problem. This left you with Thorin, who still held your soft hand in his rough one.

“ uh thank you for saving me.” You spoke turning to the dwarven king.

“Well you saved me and my nephews, I am forever in your debt.” He smiles at you.

“ well you helped me away from my father , so I class that as we are equal.”

“ you deserved to get away from him, I am glad I met you y/n. You have shown me a different perspective on elves.” His cheeks light up, you have never seen him blush before.

“If you want one day , you can take those gems of starlight to your father, even though I hate him for treating you so horrible.” Your eyes light up.

“ does that mean you will let me stay in erebor? And not go home? “ you are shocked by his words.

“This is your home now, forever or short time. It’s your home.” You sit up quickly ignoring the pain ,throwing yourself into Thorin’s arms hugging him tightly.

“Thank you so much, I knew my father was wrong about you.” You spoke into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You shouldn’t have gotten up, you could’ve ripped your stitches, I would’ve came to you.” He smiles at you. Thorin was wearing no boots just socks , a blue tunic and trousers, whereas you wore a bloodied green tunic and legs.

“W-will you lay with me then?” You stuttered out, blush arising on your cheeks.

He replies grabbing under your ass, while you held on to his neck, carrying you to the bed again,placing you gently. He goes to walk off , which you frown at, then he turns back to you.

“I am just get you a clean shirt then I’ll be back.” He smiles at you, walking to his dresser pulling out a red tunic , walking back to you, handing it to you.

He doesn’t even get a chance to turn, before you whip off your tunic exposing your breasts before you put the tunic on. You didn’t even care that Thorin saw, he takes the dirty one from you.

“Uh I’ll be back I just need to go use the bathroom.” He holds the tunic infront of his covered cock(aliteration 101) then rushing to the bathroom.

You weren’t stupid you were fully aware at your attentions and it worked. Even if you did feel self conscious about your body, Thorin seemed to like it. You saw the tent in his trousers.

You were in day dream for a while until you felt the bed dip next to you , turning to see Thorin. You look at him innocently, then you shuffle towards him, he pulls you closer. So you are practicing laying on him, he wraps his arms your waist and his head in the crook of his neck.

Thorins tunic was large on you, the v neck very low and large. You turn your head and plant a kiss on his cheek. He then starts attacking your neck with kisses.

“Would you Allow me to court you y/n ?” He asks , stopping kissing your neck.

“Yes, I would.” In response he sits up quickly, pulling you in his lapand starts braiding a part of your hair quickly attaching a courting bead to it. In which you turn and do the same for him.

Once do you look into his eyes, as he looks into yours , his hands on your hips , you cup his cheeks pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

His eyes dart to his tunic he gave to you, widening his eyes ,he coughs “ you know that ,uh your?”

You look down then up him smirking, feeling his again hardened dick ,now against your under thigh. You nod.

“Oh so you did that shirt thing before on purpose?” He smirks at you.

“Yes I did this on purpose too.”

“I didn’t know elves were like this, you are pretty desperate.”

You smash his arm gently , earning a chuckle out of him. “Do you think Thranduil let any of the male species near me apart from my brother?”

“ ooooh so you are a virgin princess.” He smirks harder. You look down at your hands embarrassed. His hand lifts your chin gently to face him, he presses a swift kiss to it.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed by amralime, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.” He smiles sweetly at you, causing your heart to race and butterflies in your stomach.

“I do want to, Im just nervous.” You face beet red.

“I’ll go slow you can tell me to stop at any point , you are injured so we should wait.” His arm is wrapped around your waist, at this point it is night.

“No please I want to , I’ll be fine. Pleaseeee.” You beg Thorin.

He smirks at you , “ are you absolutely sure ? What about if you end up pregnant. Then you have to suffer child birth.” He recalls what you said earlier.

“I don’t care , fill me with your sperm. Oh my god could you imagine my Adas face.” You bust out laughing at you comment, as does Thorin.

“Well I guess we have some work t out do then.” He chuckles flipping you so you are under him. He rips the tunic you are wearing. To be honest the next day you cannot walk , Thorin has to carry you to the toilet and bathe you, which you aren’t complaining because he does everything you need. Dwarven dicks are very large that’s for sure, you felt as if you was going to spit into two. He made sure your first time was worthwhile, as you had to had wait centuries.

In a few weeks you were declared pregnant, and Thorin had married you immediately, so it was just you two and a couple of witnesses.

Then in a couple of months you invited yours father and Legolas to your home, for dinner.

As Thranduil walked through the doors of the living space , with his son Legolas, he saw you facing away from him. You were wearing a light blue long dress, facing your husband Thorin. You had in your bad ready to give to your father a box with the gems of starlight inside.

“Y/n.” Thranduil said quietly , so happy to see you , after months of being away he regretted treating you so horrible, he missed you dearly.

You turned to face your father and brother slowly, with a huge smile. Thranduil and legolas gasp , Thranduil louder, at your huge stomach. You ignored their shocked faces, pulled them both into a huge embrace, which Legolas happily hugged back , Thranduil slower. You pulled back handing you Ada the box.

He looks at you confused, you gestured for him to open it, which he did. He gasps again. Thorin walks so he’s next to you , not daring to touch you yet.

“See Ada I told you I would get it, well it was Thorins idea.” You smile at Thorin , which he smiles largely back and then you look at your brother and father.

Legolas is squinting his eye at Thorin , knowing what Thorin had down, legolas thought to himself “fucking assbutt “ let’s just say legolas is a Castiel. Thranduil stood still eyeing his dead wife’s’ necklace. “Thank you for returning them to me.”

“Now who knocked you up, my daughter.” He looks at your left hand to see a ring on your wedding finger , legolas follows his fathers gaze.

“ you got married and didn’t invite me? I get Ada but why not me?” Legolas was heartbroken.

“ I didn’t want anyone at the wedding there was only one witness which was Bard because he was visiting at the time. I am sorry but I hate weddings, I just wanted to lay in bed eating mash potatoes.” You gave legolas a smile.

“How long since then?” Thranduil questions you.

“5 months Ada.” He gasps.

“Where is your husband? Then surely he should be with you.” Thranduil spoke annoyed with his daughters husband.

Thorin gently held you hand then spoke “but Thranduil , I am.”

Gasp. What a surprise. “Why am I not surprised you married him? You know what I am not mad, I realised how I treated you before, and I am sorry. As long you are happy.” You now gasp as your Ada and legolas smiles at you and your husband.

You let go of thorins hand and pull thranduil into a tight hug, which he returns and you do the same for your brother.

“Has the baby kicked yet?” Legolas spoke excitedly, you grab his and your fathers hand and place them on your stomach. Your baby do be a kick-boxer. “Wow” Legolas spoke quietly.

“What do you want to call it?”

“Uhhh Francis or river or keanu. Not sure.”

The end.

***

Didn’t know how to end it really.

[peach-the-owl]

Child of the Nein

When you first meet (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader) Part 2

Finally here’s part 2 like promised :)

Again not 100% accurate but I tried to keep it as close as possible

Fjord

Walking along the shores of Port Damali was a common activity for you, the sound of the waves and seagulls brought a sense of calmness to you. Today however proved to be a bit different when you saw a body laying on the beach (I’m guessing this is where he had ended up, if not feel free to correct me), waves lapping around the unconscious half-orc. You proceed cautiously not entirely sure how to approach the situation, were they dead? Alive? You couldn’t tell at first glance, so doing what any reasonable kid would you find yourself a nice long stick and start poking the body. When they let out an irritated groan you flinch back waiting for something to happen, when nothing does you resume your poking. "Hey! Are you dead!?" The words slipped out before you knew what you were saying, however the half-orc stirred once more.

When Fjord first regained consciousness he was surprised to find himself back on shore a sword in hand. The strange poking sensation while mostly irritating did help him get some focus back as he recoiled from the source. A small yelp pulls his attention to a kid, maybe 10 or 11 years of age, who’d stumbled to the sandy ground at his sudden action. A small staring contest ensues as neither say anything.

"Are you ok? I thought you were dead." You had decided to break the ice first, albeit in a rather odd fashion.

"I’m… fine?" You quickly noticed the shift in his tone of voice from a softer british composure to a heavy southern drawl. "Now what’s a kid doin' out here all alone? You should be getting back to yer parents."

"I would if I had any." You say nonchalantly.

"Oh, I’m sorry to hear-"

"It’s fine, can’t feel sad over people I never met. I’m (y/n) by the way." You quickly change the subject, holding out your hand for him to shake.

"Uhh… Fjord." He accepts the handshake, after which you help pull him to his feet.

"So, Fjord are you going to stay in town long?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?" He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at you.

"Well…" You let the word drag for a second, before deciding to come clean. "It's just that you look like a man on a mission and I for one would like to join you. I’d do anything to get out of here." You flash him your big puppy dog eyes in hopes of enticing him to agree. Sure it was a little selfish and possibly unwise on your end to ask a stranger such a bold question, but you were desperate to leave and he didn’t seem like a bad guy.

"While I don’t plan on staying long, I’m not sure I feel all too comfortable with a kid taggin' along either." He shifts a little, scratching the back of his head before looking over to you. You weren’t ready to give up so quickly.

"Oh please, the people here are awful, they don’t even care that I’m all the way out here without anyone looking after me. Look, I know the worlds a dangerous place but I’ve gotta face it eventually, and what better way to face and learn about it then with someone who already has experience." As you spoke you could see his resolve slowly break, you kept pushing. "I want to prove myself better then the dirt these people say I am, haven’t you ever felt the need to prove yourself?" It's not like you were lying about any of this and Fjord could see that written on your face. He felt pity for you but also hesitant at first, trying to think this through, your little puppy dog stare kept getting in the way however. He sighs in defeat.

"It may not be all bad to have some… company along-" He spoke slowly, almost trying reason with himself. You don’t let him finish as you practically squeal with joy and give him a quick hug.

"Thank you! You won’t regret this I promise." You let go and flash him a bright smile, in return he gives an amused side smile. As the situation fully dawned on Fjord, one part of him still wasn’t sure about this while the other hoped he made the right choice. You seemed like a smart kid to him surely you’d be able to learn quickly too. What could possibly go wrong?

Beau

Beau gave an exasperated sigh while trudging down the halls of the Cobalt Soul, she had been summoned for some "important training and experience" which wasn’t specified when she questioned them about it. Once she enters the sort of meeting room she sees 4 individuals, one being Archivist Zeenoth with two others from the Cobalt Reserve and the last looking to be a child, about 10 years old.

"The hell's all this?" The words came out before Beau could catch what she was saying.

"Language Miss Lionett, there are children present." The archivist scolds while gesturing to them. "Regardless, I’ve called you here because from this point forward you shall be this child’s new teacher."

"I’m sorry what!? You do realize that this is a bad idea, right? I haven’t even finished my own training." Beau was taken aback by his words, surprised they even considered her to be teacher material as it were.

"I’ve… considered it. However, as per mentioned earlier, I do believe this will make for a good exercise not just for this young one but for you as well."

"… I really don’t have much of a say do I?" She lets out a sigh as Zeenoth shakes his head. "Fine, whatever."

The archivist leaves the room with the two other monks that had escorted you in, leaving you alone with your new mentor. The two of you just standing in a silence that feels as though it’ll last an eternity.

*Sigh*"So, you’ve gotta name kid?" You could hear the annoyance in her voice.

"Yeah, I’m (y/n) (l/n) and if I’m not mistaken your Beauregard Lionett."

"No need for the formalities, just Beau is fine."

"Right, ok…" Your voice trails off as an awkward silence now takes over. After a moment or two you decide to try speaking up again.

"So what should we do first?" You ask, hoping your question leads somewhere. Beau stares off into space for a moment, scratching the back of her neck. You could tell she wasn’t used to this.

"I guess we'll start with the basics. Come on, there should be a more open room to spar in somewhere." She starts heading out of the room, you following close behind. From what you could gather so far, the passive aggressive tone was just a default for her and nothing to be taken too personally. After all she was your teacher now so you’d have to take everything in stride. What could possibly go wrong?

Yasha

You sat by the alter, you don’t remember much, just that you were guided here, HE had guided you here. When you had first arrived you saw a woman laying unconscious before the alter, you didn’t know what to do so here you now sit, waiting, waiting for something to happen. The woman begins to stir a groan escaping her, you scramble back a bit and hide behind the alter.

Yasha pushes herself off the ground and looks around, she didn’t know where she was or what was going on all she knew was that she was here at this alter. She decides to approach the alter, seeing two medallions. Confused she picks up both, as she does there's a soft but somehow comforting sound of distant rolling thunder. She then looks back to the alter, catching a set of curious eyes watching her before ducking out of sight. She readies herself for a fight.

"Who's there?" Her tone sounded both threatening and a little scared, she was surprised to see a child step out from behind the alter, their hands up as a way to show they meant no harm. Her stance relaxing just a little as they now stood before her.

"I’m not here to start a fight. I was guided here, like you." You could see her trying to process whatever was going on, honestly you still were too. You try to think of something else to say, thinking it best to simply introduce yourself. "Ummm… my name's (y/n). What’s yours?" You give a slight bow.

"… My name's Yasha… uhhh… I think this is yours." She kneels down and holds out her hand with one of the medallions in it, you carefully take it from her, examining the beautiful design. The silence that soon falls between you feels awkward yet comforting all at once. Neither one of you knowing what to say or do next.

"What happens now?" You ask, breaking the silence. Yasha looks to you and shrugs. "Yeah I’m not good at this either." You scratch the back of your neck feeling a little sheepish for asking. Another chorus of distant rolling thunder breaks you both away from your thoughts, this time seeming to call both of you to follow it. Sharing a look and finding no other options, you both set out to an unknown future. What could possibly go wrong?

Molly

Your legs felt as though they were on fire after hours of walking and your stomach growls at you in hunger. You march forward nonetheless, not sure as to where you were going, but just going. The burning slowly turned to a biting feeling until eventually your body forced you to drag yourself somewhere safe and out of sight to rest.

As you let the evening air blow past you a very faint scent of sweets hits your nose, looking in the direction of the scent you could make out thin pillars of smoke still a distance away, most likely the source of the sweet smell. You tried to get up but your legs wouldn’t allow it making you stay put until the pain subsided. Hours seemed to pass, you fiddled with some grass to entertain yourself, feeling the ground shift a little as you did so, strange. Ignoring that and shifting your gaze up to the sky you watch the night take over, stars dotting the darkness and a beautiful full moon seeming as if it was looking right back at you. By now the pain subsided, you now being able to start heading for that town, or what you hoped to be a town anyways. However when you try getting up this time it isn’t your wary legs that hold you back but something gripping onto you. Looking down you see a lavender hand clinging to your pants. You yelp in shock and try to pull away, tugging at the fabric to get whoever or whatever this was to let go, but to no avail. Soon another hand emerges from the ground then the top half of the body, the individual gasping for air as their head breaks past the soil. You stumble backwards, not getting far as they still had you in their death grip, all you could do was stare at them. Where they undead? No that didn’t seem right, they were breathing and defiantly looked to have all their skin intact. Maybe it was a resurrection spell? No, you seemed to be the only one around from what you could observe and you certainly didn’t know any powerful magic like that.

Dozens of questions swam around your brain as you tried to decide your next course of action, this somehow not dead person amazingly didn’t seem to notice your presents or that they were still holding onto you, their eyes fixated on the sky. You shuffle a bit to get into a more comfortable position, when you do you see the mystery man had finally moved their gaze away from the sky and onto you. Red eyes beating into you, yet you no longer felt fear from them as you could now see, much like yourself, the fear and confusion in their own eyes.

"Uhhh… hi?" You really weren’t sure how to approach any of this, and when they don’t respond you could only assume they didn’t know what to do either. They do however release their grip on you, retracting their hand to their chest. You could run, but should you really just leave them here? They were a stranger that just popped out of the ground (like daisy's) but that didn’t mean they were instantly bad. You slowly rise to your feet, and with a deep breath hold your hand out for them to take. You see the hesitance in their face as they just stare at you.

"Come on it’s just a hand. I don’t bite, promise." You offer a welcoming smile, and after a second they accept the offer, you helping them up. "I’m (y/n) by the way. What’s your name?" They look at you but their voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure if they were actually talking. It’s then that your stomach rumbles again, making your hunger known after being ignored for so long.

"It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. Let’s just get moving, I think I saw a town not too far away. We can go there, maybe find something to eat and then figure this out." You give another reassuring smile hoping to calm your new mystery friend enough to focus a bit more. While still holding onto their hand you gently start tugging them along, they follow you like a lost puppy toward where you’d seen the pillars of smoke earlier. You tried to stay optimistic in your assumption and hoped to find somewhere to stay soon. What could possibly go wrong?

[maggyme13]

Why Licking? (11/?)

Why Licking-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 10

Wordcount: around 1500

And never leaving your side he did. The most distance he allowed between the two of you were three meters, and only when you had to relief yourself or when he was in the ring training.

You got used to it, and so it was strange when half a year later he told you visit your Warg alone to train with Drago and him.

He had grown big in that time and with your lighter build (compared to the usual beefy orc riders), he was able to carry you a bit at a time. Soon you would be able to ride alongside Azog, and when it was just around the paths on the mountain.

You had also became better at speaking the orcs tongue since then; it still was not perfect, but you could at least understand a bit.

“Mabrotnosh.”, the beastmaster greeted you with a bow, he himself stood with his warg, “You are looking well. Come, today I will show you how to take care of your Wargs fur.”

Understanding vaguely what he meant, you nodded, “Thank you. DO I need to change? These clothes are not really good to be wet in.

“No. I will show you how to take care without getting wet.”, the gruff orc chuckled, “Come, follow Grey Fang and I so we can begin.”

He lead you to an area that had rocks scattered in a half-circle. There were some other riders already seated on the rocks behind their Wargs (who where laying  on the floor) combing or even braiding their fur.

“Take a seat, and make him sit before you.”, Drago exclaimed, nodding at your Pup, you had called him Akul – Ice-, for his eyes were the color of blue glaciers and the only thing you would see in the darkness of the caves (if there were not fires lighted).

The stones were surprisingly comfortable and as soon as you sat down, Akul had sit down at your feet. Like he already knew what you wanted to do.

“Smart Warg.”, Drago handed you a comb made of bones (?) and started to untangle Grey Fangs fur himself. “Now follow my lead, be careful around his ears and paws, they are very sensitive. As well as his tail. They use it to balance in the rocky terrain, so you don´t want to damage it in any way.”

“Careful, Paws, Ears”, you repeated the words you understood, “Got it. Now, is there a way I am not allowed to do with your hair? Like some kind of status within your ranks?”

“You are our Mabrotnosh, you can do anything you want. But yes, there are some that are given after the rider accomplished a certain task.”

“Can you tell me if I am using the wrong one? I don´t want to step on anyones toes- or paws.”, you mumbled.

“As you wish. Once you are finished, we will  ride a bit to strengthen Akul´s muscles.”

Two hours later, Akul had a few woven braids down his neck, the two of you were stopped by the pale orc. He looked strange.

“Azog, what is wrong?”,you asked, placing a soft kiss against his chest.

“Drago, gather the strongest riders and Wargs. And then get the footed troops to prepare to march. Dolgodur is the goal. We ride at dawn, they will join us as soon as they can.”, His voice was strained and serious, “(y/n), we will return to our rooms, there are exhausting days coming.”

“What is going on?”, you demanded to know when the two of you were alone.

“Tomorrow we leave”

“Leave where?”

“Hunting Dwarves. Come, we need to gather everything you need on the ride and then in the old fortress. The weather will be cold and harsh. But I will make sure you are taken care of and protected.”

“I don´t understand...”, you breathed, following the Orc with your eyes, while he was going through your clothing to chose some and put them in a bag.

“WAIT. “, you called out, “Just, put them on the table and I will pack them. If you stuff them into the bag like this, they will just wrinkle or even tear. Now to another thing. If I am to travel with you, I need to wear underlings. I will do not ride days on end on a Warg without anything beneath.”

“Making demands now, my little Mate?”, he rumbled in a tone you could not interpret and fear you had crossed a line  grew in your mind.

“Az-”

“A true Mabrotnosh.”, he breathed, his one hand caressing your neck and cheek, “You will wear whatever you want and need. Akul is still too weak for you to ride him the whole time. He will run alongside us. The Travel will take us three days on the Warg´s back. Now, let us enjoy one last bath before we leave to hunt.”

____

The next day came far to quick and when you entered the entrance cave, you noticed the moon was still in the sky.

This is far too early.

“Mabrotnosh.”, almost every one of the orcs you passed greeted you. Some bowing their heads others just nodding at you.

It still felt strange.

And then there was the business in the cave. It was filled to the brim with Wargs and Riders. They stood in packs of around thirty. Every one of those packs had one orc that stood out- be it the armor or hairdo, (one was even female. There were not many female orcs; you were not sure if you had even ever seen one before to be honest), and you realized those were the pack-leaders.

Just like Drago was.

Following your Mate through the little organized groups, you noticed Drago´s was the biggest and fierce looking. Every single one of his riders was decorated with bones and skulls of great beasts and former opponents. Their Warg´s the most decorated and with trinkets braided into their manes.

It was his group the great pale orc was aiming for.

“Drago and his orcs are with us in the front. You will not leave their middle when riding Akul.”, he explained.

“Understood.”

“They are also in charge of your safety during any situation occurring on the travel and at the fortress. There might be creatures that do not share our caves for we are not the only ones wanting the Dwarves. Remember their names and their looks; make sure you are never without anyone of them or me.”

The sound of his voice alone made you uneasy and fearful of the future.

“Azog, you are scaring me.”

“No fear. Nothing will happen to you. Every single Orc in these caves would lay down their lives for you. And once the rest of my army joins us- those coming from Gundabad and out of the wilds- no one will even dare to think of hurting you. You are my Mate their Mabrotnosh, Queen Moria.”, he was learning to speak the common tongue just as you were learning dark speech.

“Queen- Mabrotnosh- does that really mean Queen? Am I their Queen?”, you asked hearing your suspicion about the meaning of the word confirmed, felt … strange.

“Yes.”

From poor farmers daughter to Queen of the Orcs of Moria. By the Valar, how did that happen and what am I doing? This will be my death.

“Azog. Mabrotnosh. The riders are ready to depart. Scouts informed us that there are no threats. The dwarf is secured with Naz´ka´s pack. They are ordered to keep him away from us.”, Drago greeted the two of you, offering you one of his rare smiles.

A smile that anyone, who did not know him like you did, would probably die of fear; his sharp teeth glinted in the light of the torches and his blood red eyes shined with a dangerous glee.

“Hello Drago.”, you smiled back, “Ready to be out of the mountain again?”

“We are always ready to ride. Always ready to hunt and to kill. My Orcs and I will make sure no harm comes to you. It is our duty and honor.”

His Orcs growled in agreement.

__

They rode the whole day and the next night, only stopping for an hour twice so the Beasts could rest for a bit before continuing riding.

It took until dawn for the whole army to leave the slopes of the mountain.

And now, in the daylight and with no rocks in the way, you finally saw that his army of riders were almost four hundred Wargs strong, with just fifty being without riders, but in return they were carrying goods and provisions; every single one of the packs had at least one if not two, or even three.

The whole ride, you were seated in front of Azog, just like the first days you had spend with him, but unlike then you leaned back into his chest and enjoyed the scenery and his warmth.

You had come a far way from the afraid little girl.

Akul, as the exited little puppy that he still was, ran around the Wargs around you, until both Ankarth and Grey Fang snapped at him to make him behave. He yelped, but finally settled down, visibly sulking.

Part 12

AN : THank you for reading and please let me know what youthink ^^