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da-gamingojichan · 9 months

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Robooty's awezome itager sex fanfic (AIDS EDITION)

PREAMBLE: you all may know my hit fanfiction on the ao3.... but i mentioned in the tags theres an aids edition where practically all the dialogue has their accents completely horrible and inaccurately written out. the very last bits dont have that but its because I was fighting for my life against sickness and the school chromebook to finish the fic when i made it okay shit happened. ill link the ao3 version thats #normal and what you should read if ur gunna read this shit. but for the robootyling that begged me on mai blog to post the aids edition.... this is for you ❤️

LINK TO NORMAL ONE

PREAMBLE OVER. SEX COMMENCE!!!!!

Germany nervously thumbed the note cards in his hands as he awaited Italy's arrival. The man blushed as he skimmed over the contents he had copied down from The Beginner’s Guide To Sex For the Hard-Hearted German on said pieces of paper the night earlier. He shifted the note cards to face more inwards towards himself, despite the fact he was alone in the hotel room. And also that if anyone even were to steal the note cards it would take them at least five minutes to decipher what was written down in his microscopic neat handwriting. Nervously, he fiddled with the edge of the ski mask on his face.

Yes, he had a ski mask on his head for the past twenty minutes. Germany had realized that even thinking about the event to come made his entire face flush a noticeable red. He couldn’t even imagine how blushed he’d look during the actual activity itself and decided that sort of thing was much too shameful to show Italy, so he found a solution. Wearing a ski mask on his face would be the perfect fix to make sure his lover wouldn’t see all the blood in his body rushing to his head when it’s supposed to be going to his… vital regions.

He also realized that he would probably make all sorts of embarrassing sounds and maybe even get so overwhelmed he’d attack Italy by instinct once they got down to business. So to combat this he also procured a duffle bag that sat next to the bed with duct tape, rope, and a knife to cut both items with. The duct tape would be perfect to put over his mouth to make sure any strange sounds he would make would become inaudible, and the rope could be used if he felt that he might need to be restrained to protect his husband.

He also had a yak tranquilizer in there too.

Just in case y’know?

Sure it may be a bit strange, but Italy probably wouldn’t even find it noticeable after listening to Germany’s explanation and adjusting to it all. At least that’s what Austria said when he consulted him on the matter. Apparently he and Hungary did that sort of thing all the time or something.

The blonde country sighed as he tucked the notecards into his pocket and fiddled with his hands while listening to the clock tick by. He suddenly focused his eyes on said clock and squinted.

“Vait. Vat ze hell?,” he thought, “Zat clock iz vun quarter of unt second off! I must fix it!”

The country quickly stood up from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and brought the clock down into his hands as started to tinker with it. He had momentarily worried about Italy arriving while he was adjusting the clock, but decided that it would be fine, he needed something to get his mind off of what they would be doing together once his husband arrived. Instead he decided to recount what had happened to bring him to the hotel room in the first place.

It all started two weeks prior on Germany and Italy’s anniversary. The German had as always agonizingly created a meticulous plan for Italy to ruin immediately. Although this year had been a surprise since the brunette ruined Germany’s plans not by his usual antics like flashing his dick in a restaurant and getting them kicked out or getting distracted by street cats a few too many times, rather he’d told Germany that he made their plans all by himself for a change.

Now Germany could have told Italy that he spent weeks creating the itinerary for the day already and would receive nothing but understanding sprinkled with bits of praise from the Italian for always being so prepared. But the moment he saw the earnest look in his husband’s eyes that showed he really did try his best making the plans for a change this time, all notions of following through with the reservations he had made flew out the window.

It was fine, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, especially the greatest good which was accepting Italy’s displays of affections. No matter how frustrating or unpleasant or downright humiliating they could be at times. Besides, few canceled reservations was still infinitely better than the time the brunette uploaded on his official country of Italy account a post captioned “pasta in the shape of Germany’s anatomy” with a rather… uncouth, but delicious looking picture attached. Not to mention how Italy later begged the referenced country to reblog the photo onto his own official country account.

He did reblog it of course.

Anyways, Germany was rather excited to see what Italy had in store for him. Even though he knew the plans would not be as elaborate or well thought out as his own usually are, he still highly anticipated seeing what his husband prepared for him.

But how was he supposed to expect that after a day of a surprisingly well thought out and romantic anniversary date that the Italian planned to bed him?!

Like seriously! He had already mentally prepared himself for kissing and hand holding and possibly even a heavy make out session before snuggling in bed– but definitely not going all the way! Sure it might have been because it was specifically their hundredth anniversary they were celebrating, but that still is moving a bit fast isn’t it!?

The worst part was that the way the German realized that his husband wanted to have s… se…

…coitus. With Him.

Was when during their make out session the Italian palmed his lover’s dick firmly in his hand through the man’s pants only for Germany to suddenly suplex him out of sheer battle instincts.

The taller man quickly snapped out of it and helped Italy up before grabbing an ice pack from his fridge for his head. Forgetting completely about Italy copping a feel after effectively giving his husband a concussion on their anniversary night, he apologized profusely for the wrestling move as he asked if he was alright. The brunette was only slightly dazed since his brain was already so damaged that a hit like that barely did any harm to him at all. Yet he still stayed silent and kept his head lowered as tears began to pool into his eyes.

Germany started to panic, but before he could get a word out the shorter man lifted his head to make eye contact with him and asked with the seriousness of a man on death row, “Germany. Am I-a rizzless?”

The German did not know how to respond to that. He merely gaped at him for a moment before sputtering out, “V-Vhat are you talking avout? Of courze you have rizz!”

Italy bore his gaze into his lover’s eyes. “Then why… why…,” he trailed off.

“Why vhat?,” Germany asked, panic now replaced with confusion since he now knew the Italian wasn’t badly hurt.

Italy trembled as he brought his head back down before surging upwards and yelling at Germany with a hint of desperation, “WHY HAVE WE-A NEVA BANGED?! I KNOW YOU’RE NOT TE ASEXUAL JAHMANY! I’VE SEEN HOW YOU CUT OUT-A PICTURES OF MAH HEAD AND PASTE IT ONTO THE BOHDIES OF ALL THE PEOPLES IN YOUR PORN MAGAZINES! AM I-A JUST NOT YOUR BODY TYPE? ARE ANEMIC BOYS LIKE SWEETZERLAND MORE YOUR-A STYLE?”

Meanwhile, in a house far away from the two other countries, Switzerland sneezed.

“VHAT!?,” yelled the German, leaning back from his lover’s outburst, “VHAT ARE YOU TALKING AVOUT ITALY?!”

“ONE HUNDRED YEARS WE’VE-A BEEN MARRIED AND NEVER ONCE HAVE YOU EXPLAINED WHY WE DON’T GO PAST KISSING! AN ITALIAN LIKE-A ME CAN ONLY GO SO LONG WITHOUT ANY-A ACTION! I USED TO HAVE AT LEAST THREE GIRLS-A NIGHT! NOW I’VE BEEN OVER A HUNDRED YEARS ABSTINENT,“ Italy cried as he threw himself into Germany’s arms, “do you know how-a bad that is for someone like-a me? My soul is degrading Jahmany. MY SOUL! Is it-a because you don’t like my body? You told-a me about how you think of-a me during your monthly scheduled jack off sessions! Just tell-a me why Jahmany– why!”

Germany was stunned beyond words. Italy’s indecipherable speech was something that the man had become fluent in for years, but the Italian had spoken so quickly and frantically that even he had to take a moment to process what exactly had just spat out at him at rapid fire.

As the man fully processed what his husband rambled out a flush rose up his neck to the top of his head. He looked down at the teary eyed brunette snuggled in his chest and quickly proceeded with damage control.

“n-NO! Italy it’z not like zat at all!,” he quickly reassured, “u-uhm I love your body! It’s not displeazing to me at all! I especially vike how your torso haz vun arm on each side! And-and how ven you open your eyez I can see your vhites in zem! The reason we haven’t… done things… like zat yet is uhm… vell I haven’t exactly zhought ve’d be doing zhose activities anytime soon…”

He paused as he downcast his eyes, looking away from the brunette for a moment.

Before he decidedly gave out a long exhale and mumbled under his breath, “vut it’z not vike I don't VANT to…”

The Italian abruptly paused secretly motorboating Germany’s tits once he heard the man’s barely audible confession. In an instant, his tears receded into his eyes (in a very frankly disturbing manner, since tears should not be able to do that; you know how Hetalia’s animation budget gets sometimes) and he immediately looked up towards his lover as he broke into an excited grin.

“REALLY JAHMANY?! FOR-A REAL-SIES?!,” Italy shouted as he lunged towards the German’s face, “YOU WANNA █████████████████████ AND THEN ████████████████ TO YOUR-A █████████████ SO I ████████████████████████ THEN I █████████ ALL-A OVER YOU AND DON’T STOP EVEN WHEN YOU █████████ AND THEN-A WE BOTH █████████████████████████████!!!!!!”

Germany snapped his eyes back to look at the Italian as he sputtered from all the profane and lewd things his husband had just shoved into his mind to imagine. He could feel his head steaming as he made a few choked noises trying to figure out how to begin to respond to something like that until he finally gave up. He sighed in defeat before he averted his gaze again and hesitantly mumbled, “Ja.”

Italy immediately glomped the man as hard as he could, making Germany fall backwards slightly as he let out a startled yelp.

“OH JAHMANY I’M-A SO HAPPY! YOU’LL REALLY LIKE SEX JAHMANY I-A KNOW YOU WILL I’M REALLY REALLY REALLLYY GOOD AT IT! I-A MAY NOT BE ABLE TO FIGHT FOR SHIT BUT I-A DO KNOW MY WAY AROUND-A PERSON’S ASSHOLE! OR WELL– A PRETTY LADY’S ASSHOLE, BUT YOU’RE A PRETTY MAN AND-A EVERYONE HAS AN ASSHOLE SO I’M SURE IT’S-A BASICALLY THE SAME! I’M SO SO GLAD JAHMANY! I’M-A SO GLAD YOU DO WANT TO BANG AND I’M-A SO GLAD MY BEAUTIFUL BODY IS-A NOT JUST IRRESISTIBLE TO EVERY-A WOMAN ON PLANET EARTH, BUT ALSO IRRESISTIBLE TO YOU TOO!,” he excitedly rambled into his husband's ear, “EVEN WITH MY-A WEIRD PENIS!”

Germany instinctually reciprocated the hug and patted Italy’s back as his head tilted downwards into the other man’s shoulder.

“Ja Ja. I do,” he muttered with embarrassment tinging his voice, “even vith your… unique penis.”

Italy made a content “ve~” and further snuggled into the German’s hug. A silence stretched as they mutually enjoyed each other's embrace.

That is until Italy grabbed Germany’s balls again and got suplexed immediately.

Italy let out a surprised, “VE-” and Germany made a panicked noise as he immediately released the other man and picked him up to sit him down in his previous spot. The taller man fumbled to grab the previously discarded ice pack while his husband sat dazed for slightly longer than after the first suplex. He still came back to his senses astonishingly quickly though, since getting multiple concussions in one day was just another Tuesday for the Italian.

This time though, the blonde was the first one to speak.

“VAT ZE HELL VAS ZAT?!,” he angrily scolded, “VHY DID YOU DO ZAT?? I SUPLEXED YOU LITERALLY TWO MINUTES AGO FOR TOUCHING MEIN DEUTSCH BALLS!”

Italy let out a confused ve as Germany rubbed his head on the spot that hit the ground.

“B-but I-a thought you said you WANTED to-a get-a down and dahty with me Jahmany.”

“J-Ja I do!,” the German replied as he quickened the pace of his rubbing to distract himself from his rising embarrassment, “vut obviously I need unt time to prepare!”

He paused in contemplation for a moment.

“Vun month should be sufficient, " he concluded.

“VE?!” Italy yelled as he shot up out of the man’s hold, “DEADASS??”

Germany startled backwards from the outburst and replied in an agitated tone, “Yes “deadass”! How do you expvect me to read unt annotate ze whole Guide to Sex for Ze Hard Hearted German series in less time zan zat? Zere’s five books to study and-”

Germany was cut off by the shorter man putting his hands on his shoulders with a face that could only be described as radiating the sentiment of “this faggot cannot be serious right now”.

“Jahmany. Jahmany. Amore mio. Listen to me,” He gritted out as he opened his eyes, “You do not need to read five books to prepare for sex.”

Germany gaped at him for a moment, not because he opened his eyes while saying his statement, but because while saying it Italy had dropped his accent out of sheer exasperation.

“Vut… Vut what if I do it badly?,” he hesitantly protested, all the fight draining out of him after hearing his husband get so tired of his shit he became normal.

Italy continued to stare him directly into his eyes with an alarming seriousness, “Germany. You will not do badly. There is no conceivable way for you to disappoint me. I have jerked off to you twice a day for the past hundred years without fail– yes, even while I had pneumonia that one time. I’ve imagined literally every scenario possible with you. In fact there is no scenario I’ve imagined with you that I didn’t like at least a little bit too. There’s no physically possible way for me to not like banging you.”

Germany’s blush deepened as he listened to the brunette’s confession, his embarrassment only amplified from being pinned down by the other’s intense stare. He instinctually averted his eyes while he hung his head in a bit of shame as he started realizing maybe he was being the ridiculous one here.

The Italian’s eyes softened as they slipped back closed and he cupped his husband’s cheek into his hand to bring his face back to his own, “But you-a know that if you-a really are uncomfortable or scared or-a anything at all we don’t-a have to have sex okay?,” he began stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, “I-a just want you to-a know that there’s no part of me that doesn’t desire you. It’s-a completely okay if you don’t-a want to do that-a sort-a of thing now or even ever. Even if we-a start and you don’t-a want to keep-a going suddenly then-a we-a can stop anytime. I just know how-a shy you can be about things and how you sometimes worry about-a me too much, so I need-a to push you to let-a you-a know you shouldn’t be worried about-a my end.”

The blonde brought his hand up to Italy’s wrist that was holding his face and forced his eyes back to his lover’s face. Furrowing his brow a little bit from fighting against his instincts to look away again, he responded, “Vell… if you really are svure you are fine vith me being less zan properly prepared… ven I zink ve could arrange somevhing next veek…”

The shorter man brought his face closer to Germany’s, “Are you really sure?”

“Ja,” the German replied, fighting for his life against his embarrassment and autism to maintain eye contact.

Feeling his nerves about to get the best of him, he moved his head back and closed his eyes while he quickly added, “vut not ze ██████████████ und ze █████████████ and also ze ███████████!”

He turned his face away as he muttered, “At least not for now… Zat’s vay too much for ze firvst time! And also ESPECIALLY not ze ███████████ too okay?!”

Italy had proceeded to pull him into a kiss and murmured something about how cute he was as he decided to continue what they left off at in their make-out session twenty minutes ago.

Afterwards while cuddling they both agreed to book a hotel room the next Saturday for their highly anticipated activities together and thus, led Germany to where he was now. Now having finished fixing and placing back the clock, he occupied himself by rummaging through the various items in the cabinets to see where the hotel bible was to read a few verses from it.

He was snapped out of his focus when suddenly, he heard a shriek from behind him and swiftly turned towards the source of the sound.

There he saw a teary eyed Italy quite literally shaking in his boots.

“AHHHHH!!!!! INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT WHERES-A GERMANY?!,” Italy screamed as his eyes darted around the room and caught on the open duffle bag, seeing the tape and rope within it, “OH-A MY GOD HE’S TRYING TO-A HARVEST OUR ORGANS OR-A SELL US ON THE-A BLACK MARKET AHHHHHH!!! WHAT HAVE YOU-A DONE TO-A JAHMANY?!”

Germany, realizing that Italy could not recognize him with his ski mask on, quickly strode over to the man to reassure him that there was no intruder that was trying to hate crime them. Unfortunately in his panic it did not occur to him to remove his mask making the Italian only freak out harder.

The brunette immediately made a move to bolt away once he saw the other man start striding towards him, but was caught in the intruder’s arms and struggled to get away as if he was going to be forced to pay his bill at a restaurant. After about five seconds he gave up and pulled out two white flags seemingly out of nowhere and got to doing what he does best, acting like a total pussy.

“PLEASE-A LET ME GO YOU WON’T-A LIKE-A MY ORGANS–THEY’RE FULL OF-A PASTA AND WINE AND JAHMANY’S NASTY WAR BREAD WHICH IS-A CALLED STOLLEN BUT-A DON’T TELL HIM-A THAT I-A CALLED IT THAT BECAUSE I-A LIED AND TOLD HIM I-A LOVED IT WHEN IT-A TASTED REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD– LIKE SUPER DUPER BAD IT-A WAS HARD AND HAD-A NASTY DRIED FRUITS IN IT BUT I-A COULDN’T BREAK HIS HEART AND-A TELL HIM THAT AND ENDED UP HAVING TO-A EAT A WHOLE LOT OF IT– THE THINGS I-A DO FOR LOVE AM I-A RIGHT? SEE I’VE-A HAD A HARD LIFE Y’KNOW SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T HURT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!,” he rambled while waving his white flags furiously.

Italy felt the grip on him soften as the masked man deflated and in a broken hearted voice said, “Italy… you lied avout viking mein schtollen? Vhy… Vhy did you lie to me…”

“G-germany?,” Italy asked himself as he dropped his white flags to take off the man’s mask, revealing a disillusioned Germany.

He made a startled yell of surprise realizing what he just confessed to the man.

“I-I DIDN’T-A MEAN IT IN THAT-A WAY JAHMANY!!,” he tried to reassure, “YOU-A KNOW I SAY SOME CRAZY THINGS WHEN I’M IN-A TROUBLE–”

He saw that his words were having no impact on his lover’s deflated mood and quickly changed the subject, “UHM! ANYWAYS– I’M-A REALLY GLAD YOU’RE NOT-A SCARY INTRUDER JAHMANY AND YOU DIDN’T-A GET CUT OPEN OR-A SOLD ON THE BLACK MARKET!”

Italy continued rambling about how happy he was that neither of them were going to become meat pies as he untangled himself from Germany's hold and took him by the hand back into the hotel room. He closed the door behind them and led them to the bed.

“Why were you-a wearing such-a scary thing anyways Jahmany?,” Italy asked while holding the ski mask out in front of him as they sat down on the mattress, “and what’s with all the stuff in the duffle bag? I-a thought you didn’t-a want to do anything kinky this-a time?”

Germany, having already forgiven Italy as usual, explained in an increasingly flustered manner his reasoning for the mask and the items in his bag, especially the yak tranquilizer. As the explanation went on Italy’s face went from confused into falling in a grimace-like smile.

“... so zats vhy I prepared all zese zings. Again, I’m sorry vor startling you earlier,” the taller man concluded. He reached to take the ski mask back only for it to be jerked away from him by the Italian.

“Jahmany,” Italy started with tight smile, “thank you for all-a these-a wonderful preparations. But I-a think we won’t-a need these things at-a all. Especially not-a the ski mask. Just-a trust me okay?”

The blonde knit his brows togethers in confusion thinking that Italy surely should have understood why his preparations were needed after his thirty minute explanation. Well, in daily life Italy did have trouble following a line of logic in general so it isn’t too surprising that he was struggling to become agreeable now too.

“Let me explain it to you again zen Italy, so-,” Germany started only to be cut off from Italy lunging himself on top of him, effectively pinning him to the bed kabedon style.

There was no fucking way Italy was going to listen to that thirty minute schpiel again. It was already 10 PM at night and he knew Germany was going to make them get up at 5 AM the next morning to run a few laps to satisfy his autistic need for schedule. He had to get things moving or else he’d be dead in the water with no sleep and no Germussy.

The brunette brought his face close to his lover’s ear and he whispered, “Jahmany, you know I find that-a worrywort side of you-a cute too, but right-a now let me take-a the lead alright?”

For emphasis he proceeded to place a chaste kiss on the back of his husband’s jaw.

Germany’s ears began to burn from the blood rushing to them. In all these years he never could get used to the feeling of the Italian’s lips on his skin. He fumbled trying to formulate a proper response to the man’s compliment and interruption, ending up uttering out, “Ja– y-you too.”

Italy took this as his greenlight to start attacking the man’s face with his own.

Before Germany could overthink about his failure of a response, he felt his husband’s lips press firmly to his.

The shorter man laced their fingers together as he pinned the German’s hands above his head on the bed. Knowing his lover was the type who would always forget to breathe through his nose (it was alright, at least he finally stopped keeping his eyes open while smooching), he broke the kiss before diving back down with more fervor. He swiped his tongue against the bottom lip of the man below him, asking for permission to enter his mouth. As always, his husband obliged and parted his lips modestly.

Germany always thought that feeling a tongue explore his mouth felt a bit weird at first. And in general the act was pretty unsanitary which wasn’t very pleasant either. But when he thought about how the kind of strange tasting tongue in his mouth was his beloved Italy’s, that alone was enough to make the experience enjoyable and start getting him heated up.

The blonde let out a few embarrassed sounds as Italy hummed in content against him before pulling away to see how the other was faring.

He was moving faster than usual since they had bigger fish to fry soon, but was pleased to see that the man below him was doing pretty well. Germany’s face was tickled pink as he panted heavily from, as usual, not breathing through his nose at all. He looked up at Italy in expectation as he unconsciously pursed his lips a bit in an attempt to get rid of the excessive saliva on the corner of his mouth.

The Italian, in an act of true chivalry, kissed the corner of his husband’s mouth to get rid of the excess spit and then began to trail kisses down his jaw and to the wide expanse of his neck.

Instinctually, the taller man craned his neck to give his lover a better angle to nip and nibble at him, but also gave a small protest of surprise, “vait Italy– usually ve–ah! Spend m-more time… mm… k-kissing don’t ve?”

The man paused his assault and lifted his head from the crook of the blonde’s neck.

“Well we have-a lot of-a things to do Jahmany! This-a time kissing isn’t our-a main-a course after all,” Italy replied, soaking in his husband’s flustered disposition to stop himself from diving back in to continue eating away at him.

“Zat iz true… but uhm…,” Germany averted his gaze and mumbled, “kissing iz mein favorite part… so uhm.. c-could we– do that a little more..”

Italy, in all honesty, had never been more aroused in his entire life.

Germany always had a habit of being overly considerate in their relationship in general and the Italian knew that when he didn’t ask for something it wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he didn’t want to be pushy. Especially when it came to romance. So to hear him meekly request for something as sweet as a few more kisses– how could he deny him?

Italy smiled and let go of the blonde’s hands to cup his face and neck as he sweetly maneuvered his mouth to other’s for a little while longer. During which Germany found his arms settling wrapped around his lover’s torso.

As Italy pulled away he brought himself back to the man’s neck and reassured him, “don’t-a worry Jahmany, we’ll still be able to kiss-a later too,” finishing his statement with a chaste kiss behind his ear.

Germany only hugged his lover tighter as Italy resumed sucking dark hickies into his pale skin. He let out little yelps every time the brunette bit down on him and whimpered as the man licked away the marks apologetically afterwards.

“Ah—ah, Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

“I-a love you too Germania,” the shorter man breathed into the other man’s skin only to feel him immediately tense up.

Germany swiftly moved his hands to his husband’s shoulder and pushed him away to make eye contact in a deathly serious fashion.

“Italy,” he said while looking him dead in the eye, “do not call me Germania.”

The Italian was startled by such a reaction and blurted out, “wh– why?” with an incredulous look on his face.

“That’s the name of my grandfather.”

Fuck.

Both men did not know how to proceed with their intimate moment together after an interruption like that.

Luckily, before Italy could make a stupid joke that would inevitably downward spiral into them sleeping in bed with awkward half boners together he remembered that in his pocket he had a small charm gifted to him by England. It was given to him as an aid in case something went wrong during his and Germany’s night together. Thank god for him going to England for that fortune telling beforehand!

He immediately pulled out the charm and threw it on the ground before Germany could react and a large poof of smoke surrounded him. As the smoke dissipated he realized he was in the same position he was in before he called his husband by his grandfather’s name.

“Ah—ah Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

This time, a much wiser Italy breathed into his skin, “I-a love-a you too Germany” and he felt his lover bury his face deeper into his neck.

Hey guys so this is the part where you read a sex scene written by a guy who has never held hands with someone in his entire life

Through their close embrace, both men could feel the other beginning to harden through their clothes. But this time was different, since for once the two men would be able to do something about their soon to be full mast dicks and that thought alone excited them both further.

Now kissing Germany’s neck less aggressively with only slow, closed mouth presses to his skin, Italy moved his hands and began to unbutton his husband’s collared shirt. He trailed his sappy smooches down to the man’s vast chest that he was oh so familiar with. Shifting his hands to cup the German’s pecs he huffed in displeasure as he felt they were hard and flexed. The brunette rested his face in between his lover’s pecs and looked up at him with the best puppy eyes he could muster.

“Relax for me Jahmany, I-a like them when they’re soft,” he requested, still cupping the hard masses in his palms.

The taller man closed his eyes and muttered out a hesitant, “ja ja” as he willed his muscles to untense. The Italian made a pleased noise as he squished the man’s large pecs in his hands. Truely, a delight better than any girl could provide, he thought to himself.

He experimentally moved his thumbs to push on the other man’s nipples and felt the blonde’s pecs instantly harden once again.

Germany instinctually hugged him much tighter, causing the Italian’s body to press up firmly against his as he let out a surprised “ah!” and inquired, “V-Vhat do you zink you’re doing” through squinted eyes.

“I’m-a playing with your chest Jahmany,” the Italian replied in a cheeky tone, as he proceeded to continue gently messing around with his husband’s pink nubs.

“Ja… vut– nngh you’ve never done somezing vike– ah- zhis b—before,”

“Do you-a like it?”

“It- mmm feels… vierd.. I don’t know if– if it’z ze good… vierd,” the German replied, scrunching together his brows as he consciously loosened his grip on his lover to make sure to not hurt him.

Italy hummed in acknowledgement. It didn’t appear that his lover’s boner was getting any stiffer as he continued playing with his chest. So after a few moments he decided to hell with it and asked, “how does-a this feel then?” before he proceeded to roughly grind his thigh directly into Germany’s crotch.

He instantly felt his husband’s thighs squeeze around his leg as the German threw his head back; hand clamping over his own mouth to suppress the moan that erupted from him. His back arched as his body shuddered. Italy was momentarily concerned that his lover just prematurely ejaculated, but also thought to himself that it would still be kinda cute if he did. Luckily, he knew the man didn’t as he felt Germany unconsciously rock himself slightly against his thigh, searching for more pleasure.

The blonde reached down to grab at Italy’s thigh between his legs before jerking his hand away and choosing to modestly grip at the sheets near their lower regions instead.

“I–ah I vike it–,” he stuttered as he brought his head back forward to face the Italian, face burning red and eyes tightly shut, “I–I vike it down zhere, ah–”

Well then. If the man says he likes it down there then Italy supposes he could sacrifice the rest of the boobies time to indulge him.

Nevermind how Italy could physically feel the blood in his body rushing towards his vital regions after seeing a reaction like that.

The shorter man continued unbuttoning the rest of his husband’s shirt as he trailed kisses down his torso, slowly grinding his leg into the man’s crotch to keep him from becoming impatient. Germany gripped the sheets tighter as he let out a string of “ah”s with every rocking motion. Unconsciously, he tried to speed up the pace, but Italy held his hips firmly in place.

Once the Italian had finished releasing the bottom and final button of the other man’s shirt, he quickly unbuckled his lover’s belt as well and stripped the man of his pants and underwear in one go. Germany let out a squeak in surprise and wanted to kill himself for making such a shameful sound. That was until he felt the cool air hit his now fully hardened dick and realized Italy was staring right at it, now he wanted to double kill himself.

“D—don’t just stare right at it!,” he scolded while curling his legs inwards and covering said regions with both hands.

The brunette let out a confused ve, “ehhhh? why? I-a literally stare directly at it every time we-a go to the public baths with Japan. I already-a know what you’re-a packing”.

“That’s true but!-- Right now ze situation iz all different okay?!,” The German protested, “It’z not ze same vhen I know you actually vant to get— erm– i-intimate vith me!! Just vike how zis is different than all zhose times you made me zit next to you vhile you masturbated at night because you vere scared of ze dark! It’z not vike you vere masturbating thinking of ME!”

Italy decided to refrain mentioning how all those times he WAS masturbating thinking about Germany actually. The entire masturbating “scared of the dark” thing was an Italian way of flirting even, but that would be an explanation for another time. Instead he bent down and gently pried back open the blonde’s legs causing the blonde to let out another “eep” in protest.

“But you’re so pretty Germany,” he replied, pushing his lover back down with his hand as the other caressed the man’s thigh, “can’t I have a looksie at my husband?”

He didn’t dare let out the urge he felt to giggle when he saw Germany’s hard on twitch a little at the praise. The blonde didn’t respond verbally, but allowed his lover to continue his ministrations with no resistance as he buried his face into the pillow next to him to hide his shame.

He’s so easy, it’s adorable. Italy thought to himself.

He continued to massage out little whimpers as he caressed the man’s legs while unbuttoning his own shirt. He decided that tonight he wouldn’t force Germany to strip him back. Since even as adorable as it would be to see his husband awkwardly fumble with his clothing and somehow turn even more flustered from being teased, he himself was getting a little impatient and wanted to get to sloppy sex already.

He briefly stopped his ministrations for a moment to peel the shirt off himself and toss it to the side. Despite how much he wished he could see the blonde’s expression right now, he was a little grateful that the man still had his face buried in the pillow next to him, since half of him was worried that he would make Italy pause and fold his shirt if he saw him throw it to the side.

Germany lifted his head from the pillow after noticing that the massaging had come to a stop only to throw it back once again with an arched back when Italy began nipping at his inner thighs.

The blonde yelped and clenched the bed sheets beside him as he felt his husband wrap his hands around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his soft flesh, “ha–AH!-”

“Ah— ahn– neughh–,” he moaned ungracefully as he felt the Italian play with the tip a bit with his thumb.

“Mio prezioso, are you-a ready to have your first blowjob?,” Italy asked as he kept the German’s legs spread with one hand while bringing his face closer to the member in his other palm.

Unfortunately, he never made contact. Right before his mouth touched the tip he heard Germany let out a high pitched cry and the penis in front of him sprayed him directly in the face with semen.

Both men went still for a moment, until Italy brought his fingers to his face and then brought them to his mouth to have a taste of the sticky white substance.

Watching Italy begin to taste his cum snapped Germany out of his trance and he immediately wretched the brunette's hand away from his mouth yelling, “ITALY DO NOT EAT ZAT!!!”

The Italian pulled his hand back, “no, no wait-a minute Jahmany.”

He scooped some more onto his index finger and placed it in his mouth for a moment, really contemplating the flavor this time. “Hey this actually tastes-a pretty good! Like not-a spread it on your toast everyday level-a good, but better than those-a nasty sausages you-a gave me that one time we pinky promised to be-a best friends forever! Do you think it’s-a because we’re countries?”

Germany was about to ask Italy what the hell was wrong with him until the weight of how he just not only prematurely ejaculated, but also prematurely ejaculated all over his husband’s face set in.

Oh mein gott what is wrong with ME? He thought to himself as a horrified expression crept in his features.

Italy, sensing the blonde’s mood change quickly grabbed his wrists before he could put his hands on his face and go full “I wish I was never born” on him.

“Hey-hey Jahmany! Don’t-a worry about creaming on-a my face! You know I honestly kinda like it–I just-a told you that you taste like-a solid 6/10 yummy!,” Italy rambled out, jerking the other man’s wrists around in lue of his usual hand gestures, “And it’s-a fine that you finished-a teensy bit early! It’s-a your first time you know? If-a anything, honestly I think it’s-a really cute! Lookit me I’m-a even harder than before!”

He looked down at his own tented pants to encourage his husband to do the same. In his peripheral vision he spotted a wonderful sight though.

His eyes trailed over to Germany’s penis that was still erect as ever, even after finishing once.

Germany had told him before that he could schedule his monthly masturbation time block since he knew that he was only physically capable of finishing one time. Despite being one of the youngest countries, he had the stamina of a grandfather and told the shorter man that it was simply impossible for him to do more than one round.

Italy knew his husband was not the type who would lie to him, so him still being erect in the current moment must be a very new and unexpected development. That much he could conclude from how also Germany seemed just as shocked as he was about his little guy still fighting strong.

In his head, the brunette gave a prayer thanking God for always being so gracious to him and promising to start attending church again. Once he finished he lunged back on top of the taller man, knocking him back over and under him and whispered in his ear, “Jahmany, if it’s-a okay with you, do you-a mind letting me-a take care of that for you?”

Still reeling from the mountains of shame he felt for finishing too quickly earlier he protested, “nein! V–vhat about yourself?! If anyzing I should be ze one taking care of you!”

He internally cursed himself for not studying the book series harder. He would say to hell with it and try taking the wheel, but flashbacks of buon san valentino flashed in his mind and he lost all confidence in himself. One book studied was not enough for then, so only one book studied for now definitely wouldn’t be enough to maneuver through this.

Italy felt his heart squeeze a little and kissed Germany’s cheek as he reassured him, “you’re so sweet mio tesoro. I love that considerate side to you, but don’t worry Jahmany, I’ll take care of both of us this time.”

“V-vut–”

“Trust me,” The Italian requested as he pulled himself up and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside counter, “what I-a have in mind will-a definately feel good for-a both of us thanks to-a my technique.”

The German watched as his husband poured a generous amount of the substance on his fingers, fully realizing what the man was alluding to.

“Now-a my Germany, will you-a spread your legs for me please?,” the shorter man asked with a smile.

The taller man felt his face begin to steam again and coyly opened his legs. He glanced back and forth between his lover and the wall until he closed his eyes and muttered, “be gentle… okay?”

Italy almost couldn’t contain himself from how cute his husband could be. He circled his middle finger around the rim of the blonde’s hole as he leaned over to his face and planted a gentle kiss. He reassured him, “don’t worry, just tell me if somethings wrong” as he slowly plunged the finger inside of him.

The taller man squirmed in discomfort and the Italian planted gentle kisses along his neck to soothe him.

“Is it-a alright? How does it-a feel?”

“It’z… vierd… it doesn’t hurt zhough…mmnn.. you can move…”

Gently as promised, Italy slowly plunged in and out with his lubed up middle finger, feeling the warm interiors of his husband. Soft squelches resonated within the room.

“...Italy… I zink I’m ready for anothzer vun…,” Germany mumbled as he became used to the intrusion.

He only squirmed a little bit when the second finger entered him. This time he quickly found himself becoming accustomed to the sensation and asked for another. He was about to mentally congratulate himself for adapting so quickly, but stopped himself once he realized he was about to feel proud of being able to get used to being fingered quickly.

The blonde felt a slight burn when the third heavily lubed finger entered him and let out a small, “ah—ah-”. He wrapped his arms around his husband and whined into his neck. Italy gently shushed him and continued soothing him with kisses and praise as he carefully stretched the German open.

He gently scissored the man’s hole as he went in and out, searching for his lover’s prostate.

Germany in all honesty was getting a bit tired, since the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it didn’t really feel good either. He had practiced on his own before for Italy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make it feel like much else than just fingers in his ass. Plus the rim of his hole was starting to burn from the fingers going in and out. But it did feel good to know that Italy was going to feel really good soon, and that part did keep him turned on and hard.

Suddenly, Italy’s fingers touched a certain spot and he felt as though a flash of lightning struck through him. He let out a loud moan as he white knuckled the sheets and forced his legs not to clench together.

Italy’s face lit up and he happily cheered, “Jahmany! Jahmany I finally found your prostate! I bet that-a felt really good didn’t it!!” He removed his fingers with a shlick and poured a generous amount of lube on his own dick that was now so hard it was almost painful.

“J… Ja.. zat did feel good,” Germany uttered in response, feeling a bit empty without the fingers.

“I’m glad Jahmany! After all, I want-a this to feel good for you too.”

The shorter man lined himself up against his husband’s hole and leaned the rest of his body down to meet their faces together.

“Jahmany, are you-a ready?”

“J—Ja, I trust you Italien,” Germany replied, meeting his eyes to show that he was serious with no doubts.

Italy smiled and leaned down to sweetly kiss the man below him as he slowly entered.

Germany wrapped his arms tighter around Italy as he carefully went deeper and deeper, a low burn growing from the intrusion. The blonde let out little “ah”s as Italy reminded him to relax and soothed him by running his hands down the man’s sides until he was fully inside him.

They paused for a moment to let the taller man adjust a bit to the member stuck inside him.

After a minute or so of Germany squirming and Italy fighting for his life not to bust a nut instantly, the taller man muttered, “I’m okay now… you can move Italy.”

Italy grit his eyes closed as he slowly moved in and out. Germany was tight– freaking too tight even– holy shit. Italy thought about making a joke about how he didn’t expect to get circumcised this way, but held himself back knowing it would ruin the mood. Instead he whispered in his husband’s ear, “Cuore mio, relax for me. It's alright, you can do this, just relax.”

“Of.. of course Italy”

He felt the taller man bury his face into the brunette’s neck as he slowly softened around him, still on the tight side, but at least it wasn’t a gorilla grip anymore.

Italy set back on his steady, slow pace. Each thrust eliciting a little moan from the man beneath him. He kept at it for a bit, trying to figure out what angle to thrust at to hit the man’s prostate once again until he did a thrust and felt the blonde clench harshly around him, arching his back as he did so.

Now having confidence in knowing where to hit, he quickened his pace and aimed towards that same spot. “You’re so good for me Germany, you know that?”

Germany’s face steamed even hotter somehow. “Ah, Italien— ah— mmm— mmmphh–,” he covered his mouth to muffle his moans that came spilling out uncontrollably.

“Jahmany don’t deprive me, I want to hear all the cute sounds you make,” Italy panted as he snatched the German’s hands away from his mouth.

“Good boy, good boy.”

He kissed the man once again as he continued to pick up the pace, whispering sweet words of praise into his husband’s ear.

The taller man whimpered and tears pricked his eyes as he arched his back. The Italian moved his hands to the German’s hips to get better leverage, while his husband hugged his legs and arms around Italy.

“Ah, ah, I love you– I love you Italy–,” Germany babbled into Italy’s shoulder, “I-I really love you– Ich liebe d—dich!-”

The shorter man knew his lover liked kissing best, but how could he expect Italy to kiss him when he kept saying these kinds of cute things when he didn’t?

“Anch'io ti amo Jahmany– ti amo tanto!,” he replied, feeling himself hitting the edge soon.

He needed to wrap things up soon, so he let go of his husband’s hip with the hand still slippery from lube and used that to start stroking the blonde’s cock vigorously.

“Ah– AH! Nuugh– that– that feels— Ah! r—really.. G-good—,” Germany mewled, “I– I feel —Ah, ah, s-something— build.. ngh— ing up–! I— ah– Ah– I think–”

“Do you– you hah— think you’re going to come?”

Italy picked up his pace, both stroking his dick and slamming into him.

“Then come for me Germany”

Germany spasmed and let out a broken string of moans as he came. He hugged Italy tight and the brunette could feel his walls clenching around him, bringing the shorter man over the brink as well with a loud groan.

He pumped into the man below him a few more times, riding out his orgasm as Germany whimpered from becoming a little overstimulated.

He pulled out slowly, before collapsing on top of his lover and instinctually burying his face into the man’s tits.

Both of them lay panting for a moment, as Italy maneuvered himself to lay next to his lover, and gathered him up in a hug that Germany weakly reciprocated.

“Well, Germany, what did you think of your first time having sex?,” Italy inquired.

Germany, now becoming fully lucid again, first realized how sweaty and sticky he felt, thus he replied, “Sticky.”

He thought for a little bit longer.

“But I also admit it was good. Even if I acted a bit shamefully…,” he lowered his eyes and averted his gaze.

Italy laughed and only hugged his husband tighter.

The blonde felt discomfort from the two warm and sweaty bodies pressing up against each other even closer, but nevertheless hugged his lover back because even though his body felt warm, his heart felt warm too. His body also felt kinda sore. Maybe even a lot sore. Actually he might have to rethink his 5 AM jogging laps with the condition his body was currently in.

But that was still fine too, since he probably would’ve only done a quarter of his laps anyways since Italy would be with him and get distracted by a cat or something.

For now, he settled with snuggling into Italy’s arms and began to doze off to sleep, exhausted from their activities.

That is until he felt the Italian bolt up after five minutes and shake his shoulder asking, “hey Germany wanna go for round two?”

#-fic #-germany #-hetalia #-itager #-italy #-yaoi #sorry the sex parts themselves honestly suck ass #i didnt write them good because you can tell i got shy and embarassed #i was too shy. gommene next time ill write them better 🙏

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studiono13 · 2 years

Text

Two Weeks Away

We’ve just been away for two weeks - I took loads of boards, oil paint, inks, charcoal, paper - all that I could cram in the crappy red van and I haven’t touched any of it. I have written a little, read a lot. I’ve swum and walked in some of the most beautiful places on earth and all of them in Wales. We were in a very cosy little house for four nights in Snowdonia, then three nights in our favourite campsite in Pembrokeshire - then seven nights (yes you read that correctly) at Greenman.

I’d had a very relaxing start to the holiday and I began to think I’d made a horrible mistake in going to Greenman - particularly for so long. Too many people - lockdown is very much my preferred lifestyle, having to get up at six for a shower just to ensure you can get one without waiting for hours or the water running out and the toilets, well lets just say they were still disgusting despite having excellent environmental credentials. This is the first time I’ve been to a festival without drinking cider all day and I think that this probably helps everyone forget how flipping arduous every, single, thing is.

And the programme would just change randomly with no warning or information - not good for my autistic brain. My husband is very ‘go with the flow’ - I am very ‘where is the flow, what time does it start, who’s going to be there and what should I wear?’ It’s infuriating but I still love him despite his flaws…

Once I’d worked out how to cope with these things I had a very lovely time.

Greenman is ostensibly a music festival - although most of my highlights weren’t the music. Obviously Kae Tempest was their usual brilliant, moving self and Katy J Pearson - loved her and her band. And Jessie Buckley is as compelling a singer as she is an actor. And the Chai Wallah tent is fun whenever you go there.

But my favourite things were - in chronological order -

Unstuck in Time - a film about Kurt Vonnegut but really a film about the friendship that grew between him and the film-maker Robert Wiede, and life, and about just keeping on going when you don’t really know where it’s going.

Jess Phillips being interviewed by Caitlin Moran - seeing two women I so greatly admire with my daughter. Jess Phillips is so determined and passionate but also straightforward, just wants to get on and get things done. Brilliant! And gave me some hope when everything seems so hopeless…

We also saw loads of comedy - the children have really extended their range of expletives. Mark Steel was my highlight - I’ve always love his work on radio and his podcast - What the Fuck is Going On is ranty genius - but seeing him in real life I could barely breath for laughing and crying and cheering.

I watched and was loving the start of Shaparak Khorsandi’s set but after the fifth or sixth time she asked if all the children had left and she started talking about orgies I thought my 10 year old and I better leave…

By Sunday I looked around and everyone was grubby, grumpy, fed up of their children, their partners, food is running out, toilets are filling up. It appears to be the most middle class refugee camp, everyone has recently fled from the oppression of Lucy and Yak.

We got home, I had a bath, I relished the luxury of a flushing toilet, I’ve done three loads of washing (please stop raining so I can do the other 13) - we haven’t seen the children since we got home, they may never want to see us again - and now all I need to do is remember how to paint…

#holidays #festival #greenman #festival life

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pufffinn · 2 years

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Hiii! Just saw your super lovely oc iolanthe and was wondering if you would ramble about her? Would love to know more about them

omg thank you sm!! i’m sorry this took so long to answer but i really wanted to have lots of information about her for you 💔

shes gnc/unlabelled and she’s alright with any pronouns but she usually what she uses for herself is she/her and the occasional they/them. they’re also asexual demiromantic biromantic and that is only a little bit cause i’m projecting TDHDTDH

they’re a good friend of wu’s and once in a blue moon they meet up for tea but that’s not important rn ☝️she’s kind of a nomad and travels all over ninjago and helps where she’s needed! because she travels so much she has a walloper ( those yak things in the show ) named dav and they are best friends they love eachother so much dav is a big baby and super fluffy. right now she’s living in the chuluu mountains ( a mountain range in ninjago that i came up with just for her 🤌 ) and she’s working on taking down an illegal mining ring that’s mining vitality stone ( again something i made up (( with help from my husband /p )) similar to vengestone and chrono-steel but not quite either ).

some other fun facts that i like☝️ her main weapons are two v large colourful daggers and she can also use bow and arrow. and their hair is dyed so they always have some colour to draw on ( cause she can only manipulate existing colour, she can’t create it ). she’s also the super cool much much older cousin you never see when she meets the ninja /j ( /hj )

i don’t have backstory on her yet unfortunately but i’m hoping i’ll figure it out soon :3 it’s gonna be sad cause i’m a horrible person and want my characters to suffer

and here’s a sketch just for you ☝️

#let me know if i need to elaborate on anything dtdhdtdh #BUT THANK YOU SM FOR ASKING ABT THEM ILY ANON #don’t repost #oc #iolanthe #my oc #ninjago oc #ask #anon #my art #ok but anon i want you to know you actually inspired me to do a lot of development on iolanthe HDTDHTDHD #OH another little tidbit on her #is that she’s mongolian :))#bees ocs #oc: iolanthe

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

Text

Wanda + Vision +[Name??]

So I wrote this all just now and I wanted to actually follow the entire Wandavision series so this should be done after 9 maybe 10 chapters. This chapter is very very very awkward and I did that on purpose because I wanted to write in the style of an outsider who is describing what’s happening.

If you watch Wandavision you know there are times when you’re watching Wanda’s show and times when you’re watching the miniseries on Disney + and it’s usually signified but the borderlines on the tv. Well I don’t have borderlines but I can switch up writing styles. When it’s awkward think of the parts that Wanda has edited and aired on tv herself. Almost as if sometimes I(as the author) am on the outside of the hex.

There are very minor changes to the original details so you can skim if you’d like but then ending from the weird spacing part down is important.I hope you Enjoy!

Chapter One: Filmed in front of a live studio audience.

The Screen is in black and white as a theme song plays over a montage of a car driving into town. In it sits a man in a suit and woman in a white dress. From the sign and the cans dragging from the back of the car, the two driving are a cute and apparently newlywed couple.

“A newlywed couple just moved to town. A regular husband and wife who left the big city to find a new life. Wanda Vision”

The man, apparently Vision, steps out of the car as his wife Wanda points toward the house’s for sale sign and zaps it so it says sold. He lifts her in his arms and carries her towards the door but phases through as she drops on the ground shaking her head in disapproval with a smile on her face.

“She’s a magical cal in a small town locale. He’s a homie who’s part machine. How will these two fit in...”

Vision opens the door and picks Wanda up once again. He successfully phases through a small chair while holding her in his arms. Vision puts Wanda down and they begin to dance as the credits roll over their faces.

“Wanda Vision” the theme song finishes as the screen fades to black. The scene changes and Wanda points at several things and they begin to levitate in the style of an old time visual effect. As she puts the levitating plates away Vision walks through the kitchen with his nose in the newspaper. A plate crashes over his head.

“My wife and her flying saucers”

“My husband and his indestructible head” cue the laugh track.

Wanda reads off the menu of a human man’s dreams as vision stares boredly into the newspaper. He reminds her she doesn’t eat. She jokes.

“Wanda?”

“Hmm”

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well I know the apron was a bit much dear but I am doing my best to blend in”

“No no there on the calendar someone’s drawn a little heart. Right above today’s date”

“Oh yes the heart.” Her voice pitches “Well don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Vis.”

“Forgotten? Oh Wanda I’m incapable of forgetting I remember everything and that’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.

The two go back and forth as it becomes more and more obvious that neither one of them knows what’s going on. To get out of the conversation Vision heads to work and Wanda reminds him of his robotic look. He shakes his face as sparkles appear. He heads off to work and Wanda comes closer to the calendar. It is August 23rd and she just can’t seem to remember what’s going to happen. She hears a knocking noise before the screen glitches. No picture comes up but a distinct phrase can be heard. “Happy Birthday to me”

The picture clears up and Wanda is interacting with a cheerful woman who introduces herself as Agnes. Agnes jokes with Wanda and presents her a plant before asking Wanda questions that just can’t seem to be answered. Not without magic of course. Questions about the occupants of the home, how things became so settled and why the date could be so special to the newlyweds. Agnes asks if it’s a birthday and Wanda refuses assuredly although she is very wrong. With Agnes’ prompting Wanda decides it is her anniversary and should do something special to keep Vision happy. Wanda agrees.

Vision is seen finishing work as he attempts to fit in, but he finishes his workload so quickly it is kind of odd. His coworker Norm stares in astonishment and offers to help Vision in any way. Vision in his confusion wants to know what exactly they do there. He seems to just know what to do at certain moments but he doesn’t know how or why. It is kind of… odd. Norm and Vision go through a pointless conversation because neither of them know exactly what is going on and Vision reacts poorly to one of Norm’s jokes. In his solution Norm asks Vision to vent his frustrations. In the middle of their conversation Vision’s boss Mr Hart tells Vision he is excited for their dinner because if it doesn’t go well Vision will be fired. Vision assumes that is what the heart is for and assures him everything will go smoothly before looking off in worry.

Wanda and Agnes are discussing what Wanda can do to enhance their anniversary evening. Wanda rightly inquires about the seduction techniques she should be putting into place. The phone rings and Wanda and Vision begin talking about their plans for the evening. Vision says he’s nervous for the evening and Wanda feels flattered. Vision suggests that the evening is of utmost importance and Wanda gets nervous implying that it is only one night. The two seem to think they are on the same page but neither of them is reading the right book. Wanda seems to think a seduction technique is required, and Vision assumes his wife is waiting at home ready to impress his boss.

Vision arrives home with the Harts and calls out to Wanda who comes around in a shawl and places her hands over Mr Hart’s eyes. It isn’t until Vision comes out of the kitchen that she realizes her mistake. They clumsily cover Wanda’s mistake by implying it is from her European culture. Mr Hart implies that he is hostile towards communist Europeans and his wife chides him. Wanda and Vision meet in the kitchen to straighten out their misunderstandings. Vision is obviously really intrigued by Wanda’s outfit and keeps circling back to it. Wanda realizes there needs to be a home cooked meal on the table. Flashing a dress onto her body she calls over Agnes to bring over some food.

Mr Hart and Vision are chatting in the living room and Mrs Hart gets a little antsy hoping to help Wanda in the kitchen so she’d have something to do while the boys talk business. Agnes makes a lot of noise in the kitchen so Mrs Hart is very inclined to help. After Wanda shows Agnes out Mrs Hart opens the shutters to the kitchen. Vision draws her attention by singing. Not horribly but very obviously strained. By singing he entertains Mrs Hart but Mr Hart is not at all please. Wanda becomes overwhelmed and her powers start to cause accidents. She forgets things and shouts leaving Vision to cover for her. He comes into the kitchen to help as Wanda switches out with him. The Hart’s are starved and do not feel very happy with their visit to Wanda and Vision’s household. Wanda very poorly distracts them and Agnes knocks on the door causing further confusion.

Wanda walks into the kitchen with a mind to fix everything. She magics up breakfast for dinner and serves it up as Mr Hart begins to doubt vision and doubt his management skills. Everything is done just in time and all four sit down to eat. Mrs Hart goes on a similar line of questioning like Agnes and asks Wanda questions she simply does not have the answer to, like how long they’ve been married, why the move and why they don’t have children. Neither Wanda or vision can answer the questions and Mr Hart escalates the situation by continuously questioning the newlyweds. Mrs Hart tries to deescalate the situation but is no help. As Mr Hart becomes more and more indignant he chokes. As if he’s joking Mrs Hart demands he stop it.

The longer the choking goes on the perspective changes. Mrs Hart no longer demands her husband stop and turns to Wanda as she pleads. Her smile does not change but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The camera pans to a confused Vision, then Wanda and back to Mrs Hart. Wanda asks Vision to help Mr Hart and he phases his hand through the man’s throat to pull out a chocolate covered strawberry. The ones Wanda left in the kitchen before preparing dinner. When he recovers the Harts leave. Mrs Hart ushering them out with a joke. Suddenly Mr Hart is proud of Vision and suggests Vision may be getting a promotion. The Harts interaction with Wanda is strange but with Vision they talk almost normally. When the two finally leave, Wanda sighs and Vision reverts to his normal form.

Wanda points out that the two of them are an unusual couple that don’t have an anniversary or a song or wedding rings. They designate August 23rd as their anniversary. Their song becomes yakkity yak. Vision asks Wanda to make them rings and when she waves her finger they get rings dedicated to each other and say I do. They kiss and Vision presses a button and the live studio audience cheers them on. The credits appear to roll as Wanda and Vision’s faces are framed in a hexagon. Then the music suddenly stops and they look at each other. Almost as if her magic was delayed another set of rings appear on their fingers and their front door opens.

“Happy Birthday to me and Happy Anniversary to you my loves”

Wanda looks at the door in surprise and alarm. Vision has another one of those moments where he just knows exactly what to do and turns towards the door. He uses Wanda’s hand to help her up off the couch and leads her to the door. She follows trusting her husband. Vision walks up to the man and using his free hand to grab the man’s face he leans in and kisses him.

“Happy Birthday [Name]. I love you”

[Name] turns toward Wanda and gives her a brilliant smile. “Happy Anniversary Wanda.”

Wanda is confused yet charmed and she thinks about the second ring on her finger. She looks [Name] in the eyes and smiles a genuine smile. “Happy Birthday [Name]” and as she leans in to give him a kiss, the cameras fade to black.

#x male reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x male reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #wandavision x male reader #wandavision x reader #vision x male reader #vision x reader #wandavision #that-bi-bitch-writes

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nautiscarader · 3 years

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One more stocking next year - pregnancy/impregnation Hiccstrid. Astrid wants to give Hiccup a memmorable snoggletog gift. They fuck on furs by the fire all night long. Astrid wants to make absolutely sure it works so she times her getting filled with the rising solstice sun for the gods blessing.

(okay, so first of all, i LOVED that detailed and well-thought prompt, this is how you ensure yourself a spot in my heart. I had to make one tiny change to make it better with the idea of polar night during Snoggletog, though. Also ages might be wonky given the canon, but w/e)

(Ao3)

Also, if you enjoyed my work, here's Ko-fi link if you'd be so kind ❤️ .

==============

Never before has Astrid been that nervous during the Snoggletog day. true, this day was usually hectic, filled with preparations and last-minute shopping, but this year was different. This was their first Snoggletog on New Berk. First Snoggletog without dragons. And first Snoggletog as a wife.

The past few months she helped Hiccup preparing the Vikings for the winter in new place. Finding new sources of food, gathering supplies, mapping the territory. And now, on top of it was the celebration itself, draining the time from the ever shorter days, as their land approached the short two weeks of never-ending night.

Sitting by the table, amongst her and Hiccup's family, Astrid nervously looked in the window, at the last rays of the setting Sun, hoping her nervousness wasn't too noticeable. But she was wrong, as Hiccup's keen eye quickly spotted her behaviour and reached his hand to hold hers, noticing she hasn't touched the dish she helped preparing.

- Is something wrong? - he whispered, leaning towards her, while his mother sang with Gobber - No, no.. - Astrid smiled - I just wished we were alone already... This day was so... exhausting.

Hiccup looked into her tired eyes, and after a moment of thinking kissed her on the cheek.

- I hope you are ready for one last act. - The what?

Hiccup sat back in his chair, reached for a bottle of mead, and when everyone else were staring at the singing couple, he pretended to pour himself a cup. The peaceful musical moment was shattered with the cup that tumbled to the ground, as Hiccup began moving erratically in his chair.

- Oh, oh dear! - he babbled - It seems we might have brewed a bit too strong mead this year.

He winked at Astrid.

- Aye, yes, you are right, my husband. - she acted best to her abilities. - I don't think I can stand on my leg! If only there was someone strong that could help me walk to my bed! - Don't worry, lad, I'll carry ya!

Hiccup stopped wobbling at once when Gobber reached towards him.

- Between you and we we have two working legs, so we'll be there lickety split.

Astrid pierced him with a stern gaze.

- Er, don't you think tat tis should be Aye, his betrothed wife to carry him, and, er... scold him for clouding his mind too much? - Ar, ye might be right. Just wanted to help, that's all. - So, that's settled then, we are so sorry we cannot stay longer, but...

The two exchanged knowing looks.

- I have to make him a nice cup of yak nog!

This time, Hiccup didn't have to pretend to lose his balance.

- Yes, right, that should do it...

Five minutes later, Hoccup and Astrid were laughing as they waddled through the thick snow away from the chieftain's hall back to their hut, and just before they entered, Hiccup ceremoniously grabbed Astrid and carried her through the door, much to her enjoyment.

- Okay, first emergency exit from family meeting as a new chief. I don't think it was that bad. - It was. It was horrible. - Astrid kissed him - But we don't have to worry about it. - Astrid, go to bed, I'm gonna make you some tea, maybe? - Hiccup took her coat - That should calm your nerves. And I will do stuff around the house...

But as he undid his coat, Astrid's arms closed around his neck, just as her lips met with his in a long, fiery kiss that truly made him feel drunk.

- Actually, I wasn't feeling tired... - she looked into their living room, illuminated by just a dash of light from outside. - I was hurrying up to.. to give you my gift. - Oh, milady, you don't have to do this today, you can wait till tomorrow- - No, no I can't. - she said sharply.

She pressed her lips against his again and walked into the room, leading Hiccup with her. And with each step, her fingers undid one layer of his clothes, and when his hands reached her waist, she let out a prolonged moan, happy that he was on with her plan.

- Here? - Mhm. - she murmured, kissing his jawline.

His ceremonial clothes felt to the floor, and so did hers, tied with dozens of knots and strings.

- We have all night... - No, no we don't. - she repeated, making Hiccup raise his eyebrows. - Okay, time out. Is there something I don't know about? - Hiccup...

She leaned against him, still undoing her clothes.

- Today is the last day of the Sun.

With her other hand she grabbed a piece of wood and threw it into the fireplace. Hiccup at once readied his fiery sword and ignited it, filling the room with pleasant warmth and light.

- Hiccup, I did some calculations, and it's today. Today is the best day for me to... give you your present.

She took his hand and placed it above her sex, just as he was about to undo the bindings there. But then, he looked at her, and noticed the fire in her eyes, burning so much brighter than any reflection of real one would.

- Astrid...! - Don't you want it? Gods would approve, it's a perfect... perfect moment...

She turned around again, hoping to see the light between the thick wall of trees that surrounded their house.

- Well, if so, then we are losing time, milady.

Astrid yelped again when Hiccup took her and lay her on the thick, fluffy furs, one of the few new spoils of hunts on the New Berk. He didn't bother with the last bindings of her corset, and went straight for her delicate panties, kissing her thick thighs, so ideal for the gift she wanted to give him.

- Hic-Hiccup, maybe-maybe don't... - I am not going to leave my lady unsatisfied. - he replied sternly, continuing his foreplay. - Oh, Hiccup...

Astrid threw her head back and let his subtle kisses coat her wet, overflowing sex. She straight out cried his name when his tongue dipped between her folds, revealing how wet she really was.

- I think you did your math right. - he kissed her folds - It's a good thing I didn't drink at all... - Hiccup, don't-don't let me wait... I want to do it all night, but the first... The first one has to be now!

Her husband slid onto her, and as soon as their lips met, her legs locked behind his back, as if her life depended on it. She moaned when his tip parted her soaking folds, and with his first thrust, she arched her back, aligning her sex to better suit their animalistic needs. a moment later she felt something underneath her back, and realised that their clothes, bundled together would serve as a makeshift pillow, shaping her body into an ideal position for her carnal desire.

But even then, Hiccup took it a bit further. He grabbed her legs and threw it on his shoulders, just so he could sink an inch or two deeper inside her, an action Astrid welcomed with an unbridled "Yes!". her legs locked behind his neck this time, together with her hands, and in the intimate, tight position, the two began rocking their bodies, running against the time and Sun itself.

Every few seconds Astrid looked to her right, at the small window, and to her left to see shadows of the tree getting longer and longer, trying to find the right moment when they would disappear. but it was easier said than done, as with their biological needs came also the frivolous ones, when Hiccup sneaked his hand between their bodies just to stimulate her swollen num above her entrance.

Astrid lost her mind, kicking and scaring his shoulders, as they drew closer and closer to hers and his fulfilment. The two often finished at different moments, but this one? It had to be simultaneous, Astrid decided, there was no other way.

Astrid moaned, nervously shifting her stare between her husband and the frosted window, trying to postpone his release, despite her body demanding the pleasure that has been building up in her loins. Her needy, quickened, ragged breath coincided with his grunts, and only when she lost track of the Sun that hid behind the horizon, she dug her nails into Hiccup's neck and screamed her plea.

- N-Now! give me your seed! All-all of it!

Never to disappoint his lady, Hiccup gladly fulfilled her plea. He let out a prolonged, deep groan as his hips smashed against hers one final time, and he finally let go, flooding Astrid's fertile womb with streams of his seed, while her body arched under the pleasure that shook her body. Hiccup collapsed on top of her bosom, quickly trying to find her lips, while his body, twisted with hers, continued the sacred ritual they've been preparing for, sending more and more life-giving fluids inside her thirsty body.

Long minutes have passed, as their bodies shook together, and when the two opened their eyes, all they could see in the dimly lit room was the fire's reflections, dancing in their eyes. Hiccup was sure that Astrid cheeks have never look more flustered, the combination of heat from the fire, sultry atmosphere, and an even sultier passion that connected their bodies.

- Do you think it worked? - Hiccup sneaked a kiss between her breasts, knowing well that Astrid would jitter when he brushed a particularly sensitive spot - It better did. Otherwise I will be really pissed at the gods.

She cupped his face and pressed his head against her chest, still rising up and down, desperate for air she expelled when she cried his name.

- But still, I wasn't joking, Hiccup. - she suddenly added, catching his attention - I meant it when I said I want to make love all night.

He blinked.

- Not until the Sun rises again...

Hiccup's eyes opened wide just as he was about to kiss her breasts again, as the meaning of her words finally dawned on him.

- But... it's gonna be two weeks, maybe even fifteen days until... - I know. - Astrid cupped his face and tightened her grip on him - We've been gathering the supplies, and for the next two weeks, we're not gonna leave the house. And you...

She crossed her legs, locking them tightly behind his back, bringing his face inches away from hers.

- You're not gonna leave me.

To prove her point, she gave him a gentle kick to his butt, and with that, he started advancing again, seemingly delving deeper with each trust even though she thought he has reached his limit already, just to ensure he would plant his seed as close to her womb as possible. And though he already filled her once, he was more than happy to do it again.

As it turned out, Astrid really wasn't joking about her plan. Though the two did leave the house, of course - perhaps just to watch the northern lights against the dark sky of the short polar night - she was relentless with milking Hiccup of the chief's seed at least twice a day, ensuring that not a drop of his cum would be wasted, though she sometimes had to use her fingers to clean up after a particularly messy finish that overflowed her sex. Still, she was his wife, so it belonged to her, even if she has to preserve it in her belly...

Astrid never before believed what her mother or Valka told about women's instincts, until she awoken two weeks later to the first rays of newly reborn Sun. She felt ill, was sweaty, hot, though instead of her forehead burning, sudden warmth radiated from within her core that just a few hours earlier has been once more overfilled by Hiccup's virility. And when she placed her hand over it, she knew it has happened. She wouldn't even have to ask Gothi for her wheat seeds that she'd have to pee on to see if they'd sprout. She just... knew.

She turned to her husband, sleeping after another tiring session and though she was eager to tell him the news, she just closed her arms around him, sneaking a kiss to his cheek. And when he turned and closed his arm over her belly, he knew it too.

===========

Also, that “peeing on wheat seeds was a surprisingly reliable pregnancy test.

#hiccstrid #lemon #Anonymous #nautiscaraderfics #aged-up characters and all that #HICCSTRID #HTTYD #ASTRID HOFFERSON #HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK III

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the-rawr-ster · 3 years

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Words for Proheroes, UA staff, and All For One

Warning: lots of cursing, minor spoilers, mentions of abuse, harsh words, and lots of yelling, and also mentions of suicide, depression, ptsd, ect.

Any of the characters I mention, I say I hate but I don’t and understand they’re human so they make mistakes. I also know they already know that I’m right and probably feel super shitty. I still want to put my two sense in.

So I made a post and some comments on tik tok about hero society in MHA. I didn’t get everything I wanted to say so here’s just a ranting dump about several characters and groups.

The only heroes actually can respect are Miruko Hawks. Let me explain why. Hawks literally called out the heros on their BS speeches. Which I really admire. He’s blunt, which is an extremely respectable trait to me in most cases. And he’s very passionate about the work he does. He cares about people but unfortunately because of how he was brought up (manga spoilers here stop before you spoil it for yourselves). Just like many of 1-A, but also very different, he was quite literally raised to be a tool used by the military for their bullshit. And I think this might have changed based on who saved him. As many of you might know, Hawks grew up in an extremely toxic environment, I won’t get into the nitty gritty deets. The one that got him out of that was Endeavor, his favorite hero. He was his favorite hero growing up. But that only goes so far. Hawks respect for Endeavor (like many of his fans) was because he wasn’t fake, he didn’t pretend to like people, he didn’t pretend to smile. Endeavor was very different from many of the other heroes (horrible father and husband though (an okay hero though, which I think is part of why Stain hadn’t killed Endeavor even though he had plenty of opportunities)). Now we haven’t seen much of Miruko as far as I know, but just from her couple of minutes on screen in the anime, we can already guess that she respected Hawks. She likes how Hawks rolls. He’s confident, laid back, and he’s not a bullshitter. And just for that I can respect her. I also think Bakugō should be the number one hero but that’s a story for another time. I also have respect for Sir Night Eye and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you why because you can figure it out.

Now let’s get down to why I fucking hate hero society. Let’s just start off with the fact that it’s almost identical to how it would be if superpowers existed. There would be quirk discrimination, there would be people that abused their powers, ect. Ect. But most of all, heros get away with anything (much like cops irl). They use violence to stop violence, which goes completely against what heroes say. And we see this with All might a lot. Heros with flashy powers get noticed more than others. YOU SENT CHILDREN TO WAR!!!! THAT IS IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM OKAY!!! THOSE CHILDREN ARE FOREVER GOING TO BE TRAUMATIZED BY THAT SHIT! And I understand that at some point they’d have experienced something, but when they chose to be heroes it was a time of piece, but then for whatever reason everything went south. Regardless, these kids brains are still developing, idk how but this will definitely change the way their brain develops. Honestly I’d be surprised if none of them ended up commiting. I don’t want them to but in their mental state they’d at least be thinking about it. I actually wrote a fic about a pro-hero commiting. I could write an essay on why heroes suck balls, but that’ll be done another time).

As much as I’d like to talk about each individual hero, I really want to talk about UA students and Staff, and why the staff sucks potato juice.

Let’s start with the obvious one, Nezu. HOW DO DOZENS OF VILLAINS INFILTRATE ONE OF THE MOST PRESTIGIOUS SCHOOLS? THAT DOESNT MAKE SENSE, obviously your security system fucking sucks. NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU ONLY HIRED ALL MIGHT BECAUSE OF HIS STATUS AS A HERO!!!! HES A HORRIBLE TEACHER!!!! AND NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU ALLOWED ALL OF YOUR STUDENTS TO BE PUT ON BLAST FOR MILLIONS TO SEE, talkin bout some “We HaVe SoMe Of ThE bEsT heRoeS.” THATS bullshit because y’all lost an entire child to a lizard, a magician that puts people in marbles, and a musty old man with blue flames. If y’all produce the best heroes, y’all wouldn’t have lost Bakugō in the first place. AND WHY DO YOU LET MIDNIGHT WALK AROUND WITH SEX TOYS????! And you put all of your students in one place for all the LoV to have access to them. Yes there’s security, BUT SERIOUSLY? WILL YOU EVER LEARN?????

Next, is Present Mike, I love you man but HOW DID YOU FEEL COMFORTABLE TELLING EVERYBODY AND THEY MAMA THE NAMES AND QUIRKS OF THE STUDENTS???!!!! Like Nezu may have enabled it but you could have chosen to not do it.

Aizawa, OH SIR DO I HAVE WORDS FOR YOU. I’m sure you might already know this, but you should know I know. You’re one of the worst teachers, coming to a close second to last place on my list of horrible UA staff. First of all, you hardly taught your students proper combat training. That’s one of the most basic skills every hero needs. You’re slacking dawg (sorry for the disrespect Hound dog). Secondly, HOW DO YOU CONSISTENTLY LOSE YOUR STUDENTS? HOW DO THEY ALWAYS END UP OUT OF YOUR SIGHT? Like you’re really good at hero’s stuff but you’re slacking as a teacher. And why? Why haven’t you punished Mineta yet? It’s literally as clear as a sunny day that he’s a pervert. He is consistently making inappropriate comments and sexually harassed/assaulted several of your other students, and this is outside the LoV attacks, while you were on duty. Oh and let’s not forget about you emotionally manipulating your students!!! YOUR STUDENTS!!!!!! Needless to say I have a hate love relationship because I know he cares for his students and is not prone to favoring, unlike some *cough cough* all might.

MIDNIGHT, I respect your drip and your feminism. I just hate how you were written. YOU LITERALLY WALK AROUND WITH SEX TOYS!!! What do you even do? Like what’s your job at UA? I see you so often but like, what is your purpose? I love you though, and I wish you’d step on me.

ALL MIGHT, OMG I HATE YOU ALMOST AS MUCH AS I HATE ENDEAVOR!! FAVORITISM FAVORITISM FAVORITISM!!!! OMG IT IS SO PREVELANT IN YOUR “teaching.” You treat Deku so differently from the way you treat Bakugō. And I understand that they’re different so they have to be taught differently, by HOLY HELL! You borderline cheered for Deku when he fought with Bakugō. AND YOURE A SHITTY HERO FOR THE WAY YOU TALKED TO DEKU WHEN YOU FIRST MET HIM!! What if he didn’t grab onto you? What if he did what Bakugō said and jumped? You’d be responsible for that in a sense, because you made him feel worse than he already did. I respect you for being upfront with him, and that’s not what the issue here is. Deku was clearly emotionally unstable!!! You didn’t even teach him how to use his quirk, HES BARELY EVEN 16, how does that make sense to you? Anyways moving on to my biggest pet peeve with you, YOU PUT MY BOY IN CHAINS AND A MUZZLE KNOWING DAMN WELL THAT HE WAS FUCKING TRAUMATIZE, WAY TO GOT MR.NO.1 HERO!!! WAY TO FUCKING GO!!! AND THEN EVERYONE JUST SAT THERE AND WATCHED!!!! YOU COULD HAVE HANDLED THE SITUATION BETTER!!!!! HE WAS CLEARLY NOT OKAY WITH IT!!!! DO BETTER! YOU HUMILIATED HIM IN FRONT OF MILLIONS OF VIEWERS!!! THE LoV treated him better and they didn’t even know about his trauma!!!! I have so much to say about all might, and some of them are positive too but I’ll probably do a post on that next Wednesday, but for now we’ll be critiquing. HOW DID YOU EVEN BECOME A TEACHER? I feel like there should be more qualifications than being a good hero. BUT ANYWAYS, YAK my whole deal with this man.

Those are all the UA staff I really have beef with, but I also love their characters and how they were written. Now onto my beef with some of these parents.

Mistuki: You’re really the only parent I hate. I understand Bakugō tried to hit you, but where the fuck do you think he got it from? He didn’t become violent and aggressive out of the blue. He got that shit from you. And will you please get your son some hearing aides, my ears bleed every time I have to listen to him scream. And you should’ve been more reluctant to let Bakugō stay in the dorms. And your yelling is not helping Bakugō. Ask yourself why he hates being around you? I understand that you care about him, but punishing your child by hitting them is not okay, period, wether it’s just a slap or not.

I ko: I LOVE YOU TO PIECES! I can’t hate you. I have so much respect for you, but you shouldn’t have let Deku stay in the dorms. I know you wanted him to be able to experience his dreams, and that you felt so guilty about him growing up without a quirk, but Inko, it’s not worth losing your baby over. You were right to be upset with All Might, PERIOD.

ALL FOR ONE!! I HATE YOU WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING!!!! YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF SHIGIRAKI IN A VULNERABLY STATE AND GROOMED HIM TO BE A VILLAIN!!! AND YOU KILLED HIS GRANDMA!!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!! HE WAS A CHILD!!! HE WAS GRIEVING!!!! HE WAS UNSTABLE AND YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THAT!!! YOU DISGUST ME!!!!

And a big Fuck you to hero society for turning children into soldiers. A big fuck you for letting these children experience traum on that scale! A big fuck you for not saving Shigiraki! A big fuck you for being so full of shit!!!! A big fuck you for making people feel less than for being without a quirk! A big fuck your for being an overall piece of shit society!!

If you’ve made it this far, I apologize for yelling and cursing. Thank you for reading.

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the-jade-cross · 3 years

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Journey to Middle Earth - Chapter 15

Summary – What if JRR Tolkien never gave Thorin a love story… because the person that was meant to be Thorin’s was not yet born when he wrote the Hobbit? Sara journeys from her world to Middle Earth after an accident, with a mission. To change something about the Hobbit story… but she is not sure what. What she does not know is that while trying to prevent something from happening, something new might arise between her and the dwarf prince….even if it is not on the agenda!

Warnings – None, no explicit scenes, some kissing, violence, frightening creatures, mentions of abuse.

Pairings – Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Sara was completely out of breath when she reached the bottom of Ravenhill. She could hear the battle roaring behind her and above her, Azog’s voice calling out orders to his men on what to signal to the troops. Sara knew that because it took her thirty full minutes to get this far, she only had about ten extra to get in position before Thorin arrived with backup. Reaching to her bag, she drew out her pistol and made sure it was fully loaded with the remaining three bullets before sticking it into her belt against her back. Next, she drew out the extra jacket she brought in case it was cold and golly it was! Pulling it on, she buttoned it up and then rolled her bag up in a ball, placing it behind a large rock and covering it with stones so it wouldn’t get in her way.

She then proceeded to quietly climb the steep incline to the frozen river and lake above, keeping her eyes and ears open for orcs or Azog. She had just slipped to the ledge that looked up at the top of Ravenhill when she heard a battle cry below and the sound of yak hooves… Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin!

She sighed and ran her fingers over her covered stomach fondly, “It’s okay babies. Daddy will be here soon, and everything will be okay.”

“Sara?” a voice asked from behind her.

Sara looked over her shoulder and all the broken pieces of her heart reassembled and healed back together at the sight behind her. There stood Thorin, wearing just his pants, boots and the navy blue jacket Bard had given him. Sara could see the little stitch marks where Nori had woven mithril into the fabric. Good!

Thorin’s face was one of shock, surprise, joy, pain, hope and smitten adoring love. He was panting slightly and Orcrist was black with blood but he was unharmed. Sara couldn’t even breathe out his name but instead let out what sounded like a mixture of a cry and a gasp. Spinning around, she rushed to Thorin and the dwarf had just enough time to open his arms when Sara flung herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, hands weaving into his black hair, nose buried in his neck and chest shaking with joyous sobs. Thorin’s strong arms encased her and his face found refuge buried in her red curls.

“I thought I lost you,” Thorin choked, clutching her close.

“You never lost me… I was just waiting for you to throw down your crown and find yourself,” Sara said, pulling away to cup his cheeks, watching as tears sprung to his blue eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

“How did you know I threw…” Thorin began but then smiled, “Oh right… you already knew.”

“Well I was still afraid,” Sara admitted, feeling tears prick her eyes, “I was afraid you wouldn’t overcome it like in the story… I thought… I thought I had failed and…”

Thorin cut off her tearful rantings, grasping her cheeks, “no, no, no! If anything, I failed you both as a husband and as the father of our children. I should have listened and been stronger for you. I love you so much and I failed you. Forgive me…”

Sara let out a sobbing laugh before crushing her lips to his, their tears mingling upon their lips as they caught up on all that they had been deprived of for days.

“Are you…” Thorin whispered, almost nervously, “Are you really with child?”

Sara smiled and taking Thorin’s large hands, placed them over her rounded womb, “not with child… but with children.”

Thorin’s head snapped up to look at her and his eyes glowed while a huge grin broke across his face, “Two of them!?”

Sara barely nodded before Thorin swept her up into his arms while he showered her lips, neck, nose, cheeks and forehead with kisses. Finally setting her down, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he held her gently by the waist.

“Aralime,” he muttered against her lips, sending butterflies through her heart. “You are too good for me.”

Sara went to reply when she felt a small jolt in her gut and she looked at Thorin worried, “Where are Fili and Kili!?”

“They are fine,” Thorin assured her gently, “I sent them to scout the tower for signs of the orcs. Blasted Azog disappeared.”

Sara swallowed but knew she couldn’t tell Thorin anything when suddenly she heard Dwalin rushing toward them with Bilbo on his tail.

“Thorin! Sara! Azog is here!” Dwalin cried.

“Bolg has a second army coming from the North, they will be here in seconds,” Bilbo panted. “We will be trapped here.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, “He wanted us here… this is a trap…”

Then it came… the sound of pounding drums that only aided in making Sara’s heart drop… oh no…

The four of then turned to the tower, only to see the glow of torches as Azog walked to the edge with a few orcs flanking him, a young dwarf grasped in his grip. Sara was not prepared for what she saw… it wasn’t Fili…. But Kili!

“No….” she gasped. Where was Fili!? What happened to change this!?

Azog began to speak in black speech before lifting Kili to hold him over the edge of the cliff. While the three males gasped and stared in horror at the scene, Sara crouched down behind Thorin’s figure and slipped her gun from her belt before lifting it and aiming… she needed to make a perfect shot that would not hit Kili but strike the Magnesium beneath Azog… a little to the left… up… avoid Kili’s flailing legs… click the safety off… gun loaded and ready? Yes… now… fire…

A loud crack sounded as Sara pulled the trigger… then silence…

*******

That silence… It was the silence you endured when waiting for someone to answer the phone… that silence you feel when you load your mail to see if you got that email… waiting for your teacher to tell you if you passed or failed the test. That silence when you think you just failed your greatest purpose and all eyes were on you… then that crackle, the spark that signals that not all hope is lost.

Sara smiled, watching Azog who looked around for the source of the noise, unaware that the noise was beneath his feet. When the magnesium erupted beneath him, all the orcs began to scramble away but Azog wouldn’t let go of Kili’s coat! Sara lifted the gun again and aimed, biting her lip. For any one listening, guide my hand. The second shot sounded, directly followed by Azog rearing in pain as he clutched his hand which was now bleeding horribly. He released Kili and the dark haired dwarf plummeted toward the rocks below. Sara’s heart stopped beating for a full second when Kili’s body made contact with the ground… but his body barely touched it when the muscovite gave way and there was a splash and the sound of said dwarf spluttering water from his mouth.

Sara beamed when Kili’s head emerged from the hole soaking wet. She saw Bilbo, Dwalin and Thorin staring at her in stunned silence.

“That’s one down,” Sara observed, pocketing her pistol.

When Bilbo rushed over to Sara, telling her how brilliant she had bene, Thorin looked to the tower where Azog was disappearing into the shadows.

“Fili!” Thorin yelled, realizing he couldn’t see his second nephew!

As he ran across the ice toward the tower, Dwalin called after him and followed.

Sara turned to Bilbo and placed her dagger in his hand, “Stay safe,” she said before running off.

“Oh, great. Just leave the hobbit here…” Bilbo mumbled.

*********

Find Fili, find Fili… Find Fili; Sara kept repeating it over and over in her mind as she wove through the hallways of the tower. Luckily she had not encountered many orcs and the ones she had got a good taste of dual sword steel. She needed to find Fili… and Kili! Knowing them, they hadn’t stayed put wherever they were!

“Fili!” she called, “Kili!”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls and she got no reply. Running around two corners, she went to call their names again but another feminine voice beat her to it.

“Kili!” which was followed by the unmistakable voice of Kili… oh no…. Bolg time!

Sara sprinted blindly toward the voices, hoping beyond hope that when she got there, Tauriel was not on the ground and Bolg’s pike was not through Kili’s chest.

Crap! She should have told Nori to weave Mithril into Kili’s clothes too! Please oh please let this not happen! She could barely see the ground beneath her feet as she sprinted through the tower, tears streaming down her face, red curls in her eyes and her swords in her hands, black with orc blood.

When she came stumbling down the flight of stairs, she saw Kili jump from a ledge onto Bolg’s shoulders but the dwarf missed Bolg’s head! She was in time. Sara took in the scene. She saw Tauriel on the ground holding her leg which was definitely sprained and Fili was crouching over her, sword in hand and ready to pounce to his brother’s rescue only for Bolg to throw Kili from his back and straight into the blond dwarf who cushioned his brother’s fall.

Both boys scrambled to their feet and reached for their weapons when Sara called out, making herself known.

“Hey! You witless worm!” she could resist using Thorin’s famous line he had spoken to Smaug in Erabor not three days prior.

Bolg’s huge figure turned to the girl who stood under the archway, opposite the two dwarves and the she-elf, Bolg smack dab between the two parties. The orc grumbled with joy at the prospect of another kill.

“I don’t suppose you know English?” Sara inquired.

As Bolg approached her, she looked at Fili and Kili who were watching with saucers as eyes, Tauriel confused by Sara’s presence but also horrified at the dangerous situation she was in.

“Trip him,” Sara muttered to the three, ignoring the approaching figure of Bolg.

“What?” Fili shouted in horror when he saw how close Bolg was to Sara.

Sara slowly sheathed her two sords before touching the pistol hidden in the back of her belt beneath her tunic. “Trip him,” she said again with a firm confident voice.

When Fili and Kili saw the small black contraption in Sara’s hands, they caught on and while Kili pulled the immobilized Tauriel out of the way, Fili got up and stuck out his foot, readying himself. Sara saw that they understood but when she went to meet the black eyes of the giant orc, all she saw was white… a searing pain clutching her chest and the air getting caught in her lungs. She heard the blood curdling screams of Fili and Kili, the sound of Bolg grunting in satisfaction… and then the click of the safety button, the pressure of the trigger beneath her finger and then the power of the gun went off with a bang. She heard the distant yell from Bolg and then the stumbling of feet, the sound of a voice plummeting over the edge… and then the hard ground beneath her back and then darkness overtook the white light.

********

Thorin gasped. How was this even possible? He had been pinned underneath Azog’s huge body, Orcrist being the only thing between his chest and Azog’s pike. He had chosen to do the last thing from sanity and slipped Orcrist away, allowing Azog to pierce him but using the now free elven blade to bury into Azog’s heart. Thorin had rolled over so Azog’s limp body was beneath him as he drove Orcrist deeper. As he watched the orc’s breathing falter, he awaited the warm feeling of his blood seeping through his clothes… but none came.

Rising to his feet, he touched his abdomen but the navy-blue tunic he wore was untouched. No pierce hole… not even a scratch! Was Azog’s blade blunt? No… he checked it and the blade was razor sharp. He should have been dead… the pike could have skewered a wild boar! (Hehe, sound familiar;)) Thorin continued to pat himself, expecting a wound to appear when he noticed that the seams of the tunic had been torn and new thread had sewn it back together. Grabbing the hems, he ripped it and he saw what lay between the two thin layers of the coat… Mithril! But how? It was not by coincidence that the mithril ended up there, protecting him from death! Wait… Sara!

She knew! She… did that mean… he would have died then? She knew it… and she saved him… Thorin’s one-sided conversation with himself was brought to an end when a yell of misery echoed through the whole of Ravenhill… that was Fili!

Grabbing Orcrist, Thorin sprinted across the ice and up the stairs toward the sound. When he found his eldest nephew, he feared that he would find Kili down and wounded but what he saw made his heart stop and his breathing falter. There stood the red-haired she-elf, holding a thrashing Kili back as the young dwarf fought against her arms to get to Fili, tears streaming down his face and a scream ripping from his throat in a frenzy of agony. Kneeling nearby was Fili who had his head bowed, tears soaking his short beard, his shoulders heaving with sobs. And there, lying on the cold stone with her limp head in his lap was Sara. Her red curls plastered from sweat to her face, one hand limp at her side and the other wrapped limply but protectively around her abdomen. Her swords were sheathed and lying on the ground was her pistol, still smoking from the shot.

Thorin let out an ear piercing cry before running to them, falling to his knees next to Fili who allowed his uncle to pull Sara from his arms. Thorin cradled her body to him desperately as he rocked back and forth soothingly.

“no! This cannot happen… please… please don’t leave me… please…”

Sara did not respond, and her piercing blue orbs remained closed as Tauriel finally released the frantic Kili who fell into Fili’s empty arms in a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

“Thorin!” A voice cried as several figures approached.

A small figure sprinted over and fell on the other side of Sara, touching her limp hand and Thorin barely noticed the red curls of Ryder as he stared at his sister, too shocked to speak.

Bilbo rushed over next, clutching something in his arms, “I found this hidden under some rocks… it is Sara’s bag.”

Hastily taking the bag from the hobbit, Fili began to search for something that might rouse the girl from her slumber. Sara always did have unusual things in her bag that Fili did not understand but things that managed to do amazing things.

“it is her notebook,” Fili muttered as he drew out the single content of the bag.

Flipping through the pages, he paused near the end and looked at the others in shock.

“Thorin… look…” he whispered.

Thorin barely looked but when he did, his eyes widened. The sketch was of him, Fili and Kili all lying on tables… dead…

“Sara told us that Thorin was in some sort of danger,” Dwalin explained, having been there the whole time with Gandalf, Omar, Axel and some others but no one had noticed. “She told Nori to sew mithril into your coat Thorin.”

Thorin brushed his fingers over the material of his coat, “It saved me from dying…”

“And when Azog had me dangling over the ledge,” Kili sniffled. “If she hadn’t… done whatever it was she did… I might have died… and Fili…”

The two brothers looked at each other in shock which did not go unnoticed by Thorin.

“Boys… what happened?” he demanded when the two went silent.

“If Sara had not gotten Bolg’s attention and shot him… one of us… or all of us could have been dead right now,” Fili muttered.

“She did it on purpose… she let Bolg kill her… to save us… just like how she shot Azog’s hand and made me fall into the water,” Kili murmured, tears pooling in his blue eyes again.

“Why?” Thorin muttered, pulling Sara’s body closer to his chest. “Why would you do that Sara?”

“Because she had a plan,” a voice observed.

All eyes lifted and Thorin and Dwalin stared in shock and disbelief as a small figure stepped from behind Gandalf. For a moment, they did not know him till they saw the eyes, the nose and the tattoos…

“Father?” Thorin breathed.

Thrain smiled as he dropped to his knees next to his crying son and pulled Thorin into a tight embrace. When he pulled away, he looked at the girl in his son’s protective arms and smiled.

“She is a clever one Thorin. She knew of my impending death and warned Gandalf before he found me in Dol Goldur. If it had not been for her planning, I would be dead. Just like she had planned to save you my son from the beginning, she knew how she would go about it. She had mithril sewn into your clothes for a reason and that was to protect you. She reserved enough shots in that contraption of hers for a reason… to rescue my grandsons. Everything she has done has a reason.”

“Then why did she give her life so willingly?” Thorin sobbed, his voice cracking and husky from tears.

Thrain smirked, “She didn’t. That is no ordinary tunic she wears, my son.”

Thorin frowned in confusion before looking at the rough brown fabric that covered Sara’s body… he looked to his father and Gandalf who were both smiling and then he spied Omar and Axel nearby, proud smiles on their faces.

The dwarf turned his eyes back on Sara and saw that her face was not void of color, her lips parted in barely visible breathing, no blood pooling around her…

“Dragon scales.”

*******

Everything was hazy when Sara came to, groaning from the pain in her chest that felt painfully similar to cardiac arrest and heart burn, even though Sara had no idea what the former felt like.

She went to sit up when she suddenly felt an arm slip behind her shoulders to support her while another hand grasped one of hers gently but firmly.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” a deep gently baritone voice asked.

Sara turned her head and the haziness faded to reveal the concerned face of one Thorin Oakenshield who sat beside her.

“Thorin?” Sara whispered, “You’re okay! You’re alive!” she cried joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

Tears pricked Thorin’s eyes at the joy in his wife’s voice, “All thanks to you darling. Fili and Kili are fine too. They are helping clear the battleground.”

Sara’s shoulders slumped in relief at those words, leaning her head against Thorin’s neck before her hands crept to her womb.

“The babies are fine,” Thorin assured her, “Oin checked you.”

Sara went to answer when a little kick against her palm made her gasp with happiness. Reaching over she took Thorin’s hand and pressed it to her belly just as another kick came. Thorin’s face split into a huge grin and he bent down to press a kiss to Sara’s belly before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, afraid that she would break like China if he did anything more than that. Their loving moment was interrupted when the door flew open and in rushed the whole, and I mean whole, company plus Gandalf, Ryder, Omar, Axel and a strangely familiar dwarf.

Fili and Kili were at the other side of her bed in an instant, asking her if she was alright, sore or tired but Dwalin quickly shushed the two mother hens. Next, Omar and Ryder hopped onto the end of her bed to give her quick hugs and patted her over to make sure Oin didn’t miss a wound or bruise.

“I’m alright,” Sara assured everyone. “So happy to see you all safe and unharmed… wait… Lord Thrain!?”

The older dwarf walked toward Sara who moved to sit on the side of the bed, Thorin not letting her move further. Thrain smiled at the girl and took the hand that Thorin was not holding possessively.

“Thank you so much my dear for protecting my family. Not just rescuing my son and grandsons but loving them and giving Thorin a chance to live a happy life. If it were not for you, half of us would not be standing here today.”

Sara smiled past her tears, “I was afraid the whole time… afraid that I would fail and all of you would die…”

Thrain smiled and when he spied the smitten look his son was giving Sara, he turned to the others with a knowing look. “We should let her rest up for the feast tonight.” He said.

Fili and Kili went to object when Thrain gave them a warning look and if they thought Thorin was scary, Thrain was terror itself. The door had barley shut behind their retreating forms when Thorin turned to Sara and cupping her face in both hands, pressed a heated, hungry kiss to her lips. The girl let out a squeak in surprise before melting into Thorin’s loving kiss.

When they parted, Sara’s eyes were glazed over, her cheeks rosy and her lip swollen. Thorin playfully kissed her nose before looking at her lovingly.

“Mahal woman. What did I do to deserve you?” he mumbled.

Sara smiled and booped his nose with hers, “You gave me a fairy tale love story. One that I never thought I could have. That is how,” she whispered.

Thorin groaned and buried his face in her neck, muttering something about words being seductive. He lifted his head and sighed.

“I should get myself under control before I do something explicit in front of Mason.”

Sara looked to where Thorin had nodded to see that he had procured a little bed in the corner of their bed chamber where the large black dog lay curled up, snoring happily.

“He refused to leave your side,” Thorin whispered playfully. “I am starting to think between him and the twins, I will have some daunting competition for your attentions.”

*********

“Are you sure you cannot stay?” Thorin pleaded with Bilbo as he walked with him to the front gate, “Not even till the twins arrive?”

Bilbo smiled, “I would love to but if I stay much longer, people may begin to think I am dead!”

Thorin chuckled when suddenly Fili and Kili sprinted over, calling their uncle’s name. Thorin began to run but Kili held up his hands in surrender, “Easy there uncle. It is not the babies. Sara is not in labor. We just came to say goodbye to Bilbo.”

Thorin relaxed and Bilbo chuckled. Ever since Oin said that Sara would go into labor any minute, Thorin had been on edge. If someone called his name or even shouted, he began to sprint to the royal chambers.

This made for several false alarms every day for the past three days. Kili almost pranked Thorin and told him that Sara was in labor but luckily Fili found out and called his brother’s bluff before it went off.

Bilbo was just about to bid them farewell when Ori came running their way, eyes wide and face split with a grin.

“Thorin! It is time! The twins are coming!”

Thorin hesitated for a moment, waiting for someone to stop him but when no one did, he rushed back inside at full speed.

“Well I guess I can stay a while longer,” Bilbo muttered.

When Thorin found his father, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf, Axel, Omar and Ryder standing outside he and Sara’s chambers, he listened for the screams… Oin had told him that Sara would probably scream and cry… but it was silent… another false alarm?

But then the door opened and Oin stepped out with a huge smile on his face.

“Congratulations Thorin! They are here!” the old dwarf said.

Thorin blindly walked into the room alone to find Sara sitting propped up by pillows on their large bed. Never had she looked so beautiful with her face sweaty, hair a mess and nestled in her arms were two tiny bundles. Walking over slowly, Thorin stared down in wonder at the two round faces that lay sleeping against Sara’s bosom. Their little round cheeks were puffy and red but smooth and healthy. Adorable buttons noses and long lashes that brushed their cheeks. One had jet black hair while the other had hair as red as roses.

“Thorin, meet Soren and Thora,” Sara whispered, smiling.

Thorin slowly sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her and the twins, pressing a kiss to Sara’s brow before slowly bending down to kiss the twin’s foreheads one at a time.

He ran his finger over his son’s fire red hair and then touched his daughter’s rosy cheek, feeling tears prick his eyes when Thora wiggled at the feeling and grabbed his finger with her tiny little fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Sara, “Thank you for loving me and rescuing me from everything.”

Sara beamed and kissed his lips, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, doing anything with anyone but you.”

********

Epilogue – 5 years later.

“No, no, over to the left,” Thorin instructed the men as he and Dwalin tried to explain to the constructing dwarves the order in which they had to rebuild Erabor. The front of Erabor had been finished about a year ago and all the gold and gems had been put in crates, multiple crates sent to each suffering town, village, or city before the remaining were stored away in vaults in the deepest chambers of Erabor, only to be brought out if the need of extra coin ever arose.

“It will be grand again Thorin,” Dwalin beamed with pride as he watched the dwarves move away the broken pillars (a curtesy of the deceased Smaug) and began to decide how to go about putting up new ones. “Just like the old days.”

Thorin smiled and nodded as he looked around. Already the halls of Erabor were filled with golden light and the rustic grey color of the interior of Erabor had returned to its beautiful bluish green marble look after much cleaning and construction. The sounds of laughter, yells and voices filled every nook and cranny of the kingdom and Thorin was proud to realize that a part of the noise was thanks to him and Sara.

“Papa!” a small but bright voice cried.

Thorin immediately spun around with a huge grin on his face as he bent to one knee and held out both arms. The little bundle of joy and red curls leapt into Thorin’s waiting arms and wrapped her plump little 3-year-old arms around Thorin’s neck before planting a wet slobbery smooch to his cheek, cringing at the feel of his beard on her face. (Sora below)

“What are you up to pumpkin?” Thorin asked as he planted the little girl on his hip, her arms still tightly around her neck.

Dwalin smiled at the sweet exchange and waved at his little goddaughter. Sora’s fire red curls fell all the way to her waist which, considering that she was barely two feet tall, was not that long. Her eyes were so blue that at first everyone feared that something was wrong with her but there was absolutely nothing wrong with spunky little Sora other than her infatuation with her father, giving her the title: Papa’s Princess.

“Thain was pulling my hair so mummy told me to play somewhere else,” Sora said, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

Thorin chuckled and kissed her rosy cheek, “Thain is only two years old pumpkin. He doesn’t know that it hurts when he pulls your hair. Is Thea asleep?”

Sora nodded, “Sorin got her to sleep but she threw a fit when Thana tried.”

(Sorin below)

The youngest Oakenshield, little one year old Thea had a habit of being particular about who put her down for a nap and everyone soon realized that her favorite rocker was 5-year-old Sorin which honestly was a saving grace because quiet, gentle Sorin took after his mother and preferred to help with the little ones while Thana was a perfect replica of Thorin, spunky and hating to be indoors. With a sixth child on the way, Sara was able to take some rest with Sorin helping with the little ones and Thorin had to worry less when he left every morning to his duties.

“Papa,” Sora whispered, pulling Thorin’s attention back to her, patting both of his cheeks with her little hands. “Do you think mummy is mad at me?”

Thorin furrowed his brow, “Of course not pumpkin! Mummy is never angry with you.”

Sora shifted on her father’s hip, “But she was crying and frowning all day today…”

This caused both Dwalin and Thorin to stop. After having five children, you would think that a mother would go crazy since her eldest were only five years old but not Sara. She was full of energy and she never tired of caring for her children that she saw as pure miracles. She never snapped or got angry with her children and whenever one of the kids had done something really bad like hit their sibling, she sent them to Thorin because she knew he would discipline them instead of just giving them a gentle reprimanding like she would.

Thorin looked at Dwalin who nodded. There was only one explanation for Sara’s attitude… pregnancy hormones. Dwalin reached out his hands to little Sora who leapt into her Uncle Dwalin’s arms.

“Go take care of the queen,” Dwalin said with a smirk. “We cannot have a replay of Thain’s pregnancy.” (Thea below)

Thorin smiled. When Sara was pregnant with Thain, the little boy was so small that she barley started showing until the final month which worried Sara, fearing that perhaps she had miscarried the baby and was carrying a dead baby around in her womb. One day when baby Thain was asleep in her womb, Sara had broken down in sobs because she couldn’t feel him move and Thorin had found her sobbing in the bathroom and he spent the rest of the day in bed comforting her. Luckily, the next morning Thain decided to announce his presence by jabbing his mother in the gut with his foot which erased that fear but after that, Thorin always made sure he was ready to run back to the royal chambers if Sara ever needed him.

When Thorin entered the royal chambers, he saw Sorin gently carrying a sleeping Thea to the adjoining room where little Thain was probably sleeping for his nap. He gave his eldest son a questionable look and Sorin nodded towards Thana’s room, silently answering his father’s question about where Thana was. Finding that Sara was alone in their chambers. (Thana below)

Thorin slipped silently into the room to find that the four poster bed sheets had been overturned and messed up from the children playing on it. Wooden blocks and little wooden animals were scattered on the floor. Sitting by the fading fire was Sara, rocking back and forth slowly in the rocking chair. Thorin knew that look… she was tired. He moved to close the door when he heard a faint sniffle and froze in his movements. Looking back at his wife who had her back toward him, he saw her reach up to wipe her cheeks… crying… that meant only one thing and Thorin found himself smiling at the thought despite himself.

Closing the door, he walked over and bending down, pressed a kiss to his wife’s bare neck, eliciting a warm sigh from her. Sara turned her head, eyes closed in an effort to come into some form of contact with her husband that she had not heard return.

“You’re early,” she whispered when her nose found his and she rubbed her cheek across his like a baby seeking skin contact with its mother.

Thorin smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sara from behind and continued to press kisses to her neck and jaw, rubbing her arms with his hands. “Sora told me that you were feeling down. Miss me much?”

Sara chuckled softly before turning to look him square in the eyes, showing that her blue orbs were pooling with unshed tears. “How do you manage to know exactly what is wrong with me?”

Thorin smiled before bending down to press a warm kiss to her lips that were swollen from her biting them to hold back tears. “You cry silently whenever you miss me or are lonely.”

Sara sighed in defeat but Thorin beamed, coming to stand before her. Bending down, he slipped one arm under her legs while wrapping the other around her waist and picking her up slowly and gently, minding the rather large bump of her womb. Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and silently allowed him to carry her to the bed where he placed her down before crawling in next to her. This was their routine whenever one of them or both of them needed some physical contact to ward off the stress and anxiety. Sara rolled onto her side and Thorin shuffled till his front was flush against her back, slipping a leg between hers before wrapping his arms around her expanded abdomen and burying his face in her hair.

“I miss you too,” Thorin whispered as he felt himself drift off to sleep. “Every day. The moment I walk out that door I fight with myself to not turn around and go back in, calling for a sick day.”

At first, he thought Sara had fallen asleep when she didn’t reply but then he felt her fingers touch his before turning to kiss his hairy cheek. “I love you, big bear.”

Thorin smiled at her pet name before returning the kiss but this time to her lips. “Took the words right out of my mouth Pixie.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” Sara muttered into the pillow.

“What can I say?” Thorin chuckled. “You are petite and cute like a little pixie fairy… or we could go back to honeybun.”

“Nope,” Sara observed. “Pixie is fine. Honeybun sounds like you are referring to by bum.”

Thorin stifled a laugh which came out as a chuckle before he held Sara closer, both of them falling into a peaceful sleep.

Thorin’s eyes cracked open and he looked around. Oh… it was a dream. It was so real that he felt like he really was back there a few months prior to that evening when he comforted his heavily pregnant wife. Rolling over, he saw that all five of his children had made their way into the bed he and Sara shared, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Sora lay directly behind him, having probably clutched his body in her sleep. Her cheek pressed into one of her hands and her lips parted as she snored softly. On the other side of her lay Thana who had her back to her twin whose arms were wrapped protectively around little Thea who had her thumb dangling from her mouth where she had fallen asleep sucking her thumb, her free hand holding onto Sorin’s fingers. Thain was lying in the empty space that Sara usually occupied, probably had been sleeping up against his mother but when she had left the bed, he had rolled into the extra space, spread out like a star fish and snoring louder than all his siblings combined. Definitely a trait he picked up from his uncles.

Slowly getting up and pushing the blankets aside, he spied a faint light in the bathroom, but the door was cracked so Sara wasn’t using the toilet.

He rose to his feet and didn’t bother to put anything on over his pants or bare upper body. Mason who lay at the end of the bed perked his ears at his master’s movement but Thorin put a finger to his lips and then pointed to the children. Mason got the hint and crawled over to take Thorin’s place on the bed, nuzzling the sleeping Sora with his snout.

Thorin crept to the washroom and peered inside to see Sara staring at herself in the full body mirror. Her hands were hanging by her sides before she reached up and ran her fingers over the roundness of her abdomen. Thorin saw her shoulders drop and she sighed softly.

“Amralime,” Thorin whispered, stepping in.

Sara looked at him over her shoulder and from the puffy look of her face, Thorin realized that she had been crying.

“Hey,” Thorin cooed, walking over to her and wrapping her arms around her, drawing her against his chest. “What is wrong love?”

Sara didn’t not look him in the eye but stared out at the huge bump that was wedged between them, “I’m fat.”

Thorin’s eyes widened before a smirk flashed across his face, “You are not fat darling. You’re round with our child.”

Sara remained silent and the smirk faded to a frown on Thorin’s face. Pulling away, he cupped her face and lifted her eyes to look at him. “Darling, if you do not want to have any more children after this…”

Sara shook her head violently, “No Thorin! It’s not that. I want to have as many children as possible with you… I love being pregnant and the morning sicknesses, cravings and labor pains are so worth it. I just… I just never feel pretty when I am pregnant…”

Silence enveloped the two before Sara shivered as Thorin untied the tie of her nightgown and let the silk pool at her feet, leaving her stark naked except for her underwear. She had stopped wearing a bra because her swollen breasts felt constricted and painful when she did. She moved to cover her ample bosoms but Thorin grasped her hands in his and looked her dead in the eyes.

Just looking at the expression on Thorin’s face made Sara’s whole body heat up even though the room was chilly, and she bit her lip when Thorin’s hands trailed from her palms to her elbows. Slowly he began to walk around her as if stalking his prey, eyes drinking in her ample curves that had only increased with her numerous pregnancies. Sara felt Thorin’s fingers briefly touch her thighs and backside before trailing up her spine to her neck, over her shoulder and then down the center of her front, between her bosoms, over her bump…

Sara stared at him speechless as he knelt down in front of her, blue meeting blue as he held her gaze. When he dropped to his knee in front of her, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer till his face was pressed against the side of her womb, arms around her lower back and her hands instinctively weaving into his messy black locks.

“You are beautiful sweetheart,” he whispered. “It is all I can do to not ravish you when I see you rounding out with our child. Your fingers and feet are not skinny, your belly expands, your chest grows, and your cheeks seem perpetually crimson and glowing. You are a picture of beauty when you are pregnant love.”

He lifted his head to look up at her before planting a warm kiss to the side of her belly, doing the same to the other side before placing one more at the crest of the bump. His hands ghosting over every inch of her body, he slowly rose to his feet, lips trailing up her chest to her neck where he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her jaw before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

He muttered something in Khuzdul under his breath just loud enough for Sara to hear and when she did, her eyes widened at what he had said. Thorin’s darkened eyes locked on hers before he slipped a hand behind her neck and brought his lips down on hers hungrily, Sara letting out a little gasp from the intensity, but she found herself melting into it, her head swimming and her hands gripping at his bare shoulders for support of her weak limbs.

“You brought me out of the darkness and into the light. Only someone truly amazing and spectacular could do that. Never ever think that you are not beautiful or you are unloved. If my last words are not “I love you” then you’ll know that I did not have time.”

Sara smirked before poking her husband’s bare chest. “Quoting Jamie Fraser from Outlander huh? You’ve been hanging out too long with my brothers.”

Thorin smiled before helping his wife pull her nightgown back on before picking her up into his arms and returning to the room. The two soon realized that there was no chance that they could squeeze back onto their bed so Thorin lay down on the large couch, Sara laying down between his side and the back of the couch, her head and hand on his chest and the two fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Needless to say, when they woke the next morning, all five of their kids had somehow squeezed onto the couch and were sleeping on top of them, around them on between their legs. Mason sat on the floor looking Thorin in the eye as if saying “I tried.”

“And that dear Frodo is the end of the story,” Bilbo said with great ceremony, clapping his hands together before leaning back.

The white-haired hobbit considered the little boy who sat on the floor before him, barely five years old with curly black hair all over his eyes, bright blues staring at his uncle with amazement.

“But that cannot be the end!” Frodo objected. “How did it really end? Are they still alive? What about Sara’s brothers? And the children! Was the baby a boy or a girl!?”

Bilbo chuckled as his nephew ranted on and on about his questions. “Now, now lad, one question at a time.”

Frodo stuck out his lip in a pout but listened silently and intently as Bilbo continued.

“Sara and Thorin Oakenshield had another son: Shayne (above) with raven black hair like his father and the same blue eyes as both his parents. Sara’s brothers grew up and all went their separate ways. Axel went off to Gondor in search of adventure, found a lovely lass there and settled down for the rest of his days. Omar and Ryder remained at Erabor until they were grown men before they journeyed out to visit every corner of Middle Earth. They finally returned to the Mountain Village where the duties of Chief were handed to Omar after Deke passed on. They married and lived there till the end of their days. Young Kili married the love of his life, the red-haired she-elf. Not long ago, Kili’s age began to dwindle and the two took a boat to the undying lands so they would never be separated from each other ever. Kili was crowned king when young Sorin rejected the crown and he lived many years as a wonderful king of Erabor. Sorin married Zain and Rose’s little daughter Annabelle and their two children live in Erabor to this day. Princess Thana could not sit still and went to live in the Ironhills with her younger brother Thane. Thane died in a battle a few years ago but he had lived a long and fulfilling life. Thana never married. Thea and Shayne married and live in Erabor to this day. Sora could never part from her parents and when they died, she became a traveling writer, writing stories of her parents and family. Thorin and Sara lived till their grey years until they both died peacefully in bed together. Sora was the one who found them, the two wrapped in each other’s arms in peaceful sleep.”

When Bilbo did not continue, Frodo seemed satisfied that it was the end and with a huge grin, clapped before running off to find a new occupation now that the story was over. Bilbo sat in silence for a while, thinking with a fond smile back to the letter he had received from Sora just a year prior telling him of Thorin and Sara’s passing. He knew without a doubt that the two were happily dancing together on the White Shores.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Bilbo got up to answer it. There stood a young mailboy with a package in his hands. “Sorry Mr. Baggins, but this package arrived for you.”

Bilbo nodded and closed the door as he ripped the paper and stared at the rough, worn leather book. Flipping to the first page, he felt tears spring to his eyes.

Dear Bilbo,

I know that out of all of the company, you will be the one who will still be alive by the time we are gone. You and Gandalf. Don’t ask me how I know this, it’s a gift. Do what you think is right Bilbo and we will see each other again soon in a happier place.

With much love,

Sara and Thorin Oakenshield.

Slowly turning to each page, Bilbo smiled as he remembered when and where Sara drew each of the sketches until he came to the last page and he stared wide eyed. Wedged in the back page of the notebook was a small sketch… of him! Of his younger self! He smiled as he tucked the picture into his coat before finding a safe place to put the notebook on his shelf.

Little did he know that two figures stood at the edge of the White Shores, watching with smiles on their faces as they watched over Bilbo and Frodo from above.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! IT"S DONE!!!! I"M CRYING!!!!! Sorry that this chapter was so long but I got carried away in the fluff and angst:) Love ya'll and I hope you enjoyed!

#thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin #hobbit #lotr

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orcinus-ocean · 4 years

Text

Personal rambling part 2

...as for livestock, this we will only know when we have tried what works for us and our land, but the plans are of course chickens, ducks, turkeys, feeder pigs, lots and lots of rabbits, and water buffalo or yak for dairy.

Why water buffalo or yak?

Because I always have to think outside the box about everything I can, and there is good evidence that they both have better milk as well as better feed-output ratio than cattle.

My husband is familiar with water buffalo from Georgia, and says the hides are great, but I don’t think I could ever slaughter bovines. They get so tame and take so long to grow for slaughter (yaks take 3-4 years and you only get as much meat yield as from a dairy veal calf), it would feel horrible. And with these exotic bovines, chances are they’re worth more to sell than to kill. (But if we can’t sell them, obviously there will be butchering since a cow needs a calf every year to make milk.)

Rabbits are great because they’re quiet, easy to care for and easy to breed. They’re the only of these animals I have already owned, so that makes for a very gentle learning curve. But I’ve seen many homesteaders who raise the best meat breed - the New Zealand white - and just throw the pelt on the compost pile. What a waste.

I want to keep some “prettier” dual-purpose breeds and harvest the pelts for selling. Ironic perhaps at first glance, given how I’ve criticized fur farms, but it’s actually for that exact reason.

I would be raising the rabbits for meat. Mostly for the animals (x number of dogs and cats will eat a lot of meat, 100% raw fed), but also for ourselves. Then also use the pelts. I’ve seen what “raw” rabbit pelts sell for, and it’s not an income of course with the scale we’re thinking (start with 3-4 breeding females and see where it goes from there), but it would cover some costs, and could be a pretty lucrative niche, selling to people who want humanely raised fur.

One of the best pieces of advice I’ve seen on homesteading, is don’t rely on only one source of income. Have four, five sources, so that when one dries up or fails, you have something to fall back on.

The rabbit breeds I’m thinking of are Champagne d’Argent, Rex and Satin. Obviously we would be keeping several, to get many different pelts.

With chickens, I’ve long looked at the Bielefelder as supposedly one of the best dual-purpose chicken breeds, hardy with a nice temperament, and an attractive plumage that supposedly camouflages them against predators (hawks, foxes and smaller mammal predators would be a problem). And since we’re staying in Scandinavia and I want to help preserve native heritage breeds, I recently fell in love with the Swedish flower chicken, so named because of its plumage. Also a hardy landrace.

I have never eaten domestic duck, I only ate a horridly cooked (by myself) mallard about a year ago, and it was awful. I’ll have to give it another chance, maybe well-cooked duck is awesome. But even if we hate duck, if the input-output ratio is great (low cost for the meat and eggs we get), and they keep pests at bay (ducks are great at eating snails and bugs which can destroy the garden), ducks could work great as another source of dog food.

I’ve seen it said that if you raw feed dogs, use at least three different animals/protein sources, and obviously rabbits can’t be a staple since they’re nearly fat-free.

I would never choose a livestock animal purely on looks, that would be madness, but I was so happy when I found that the most beautiful poultry I’ve ever seen, the Cayuga duck, is very hardy and a good dual-purpose duck breed. Also looking at native heritage breeds, we have the Swedish blue and Swedish yellow ducks. (Oh my god, I just realized the pun. Sweden, blue and yellow...)

I love turkeys. They’re supposed to get really tame, make lovely noises (unlike geese), and eat everything from ticks to snakes. Also, they’re absolutely delicious. (And some say their ugly mugs make them easier to kill. Horrible thing to say, but it could be true.) Mortality rates are supposedly sky high when you raise poults yourself (making them expensive and slightly tragic to raise), but much lower when a mother cares for her own.

Maybe we’ll have quails, but only as a niche thing to sell quail eggs. Obviously they can’t be kept loose like the other poultry, but need an enclosed space.

Can’t go without PIGS. I also love wild boar and while there are nearly half a million wild boar in Sweden, there are none in Norway, so we can’t hunt for pork - have to get feeder pigs. “Feeder” means you buy them as piglets, raise them for the season, then slaughter them. Supposedly way more cost effective than having a breeding pair year round, and the breeding could fail, so you’re left with two hungry pigs and no pork that season.

Back to heritage breeds, the Swedish Linderödssvin, or Linderöd hog, if you will. It’s mostly Swedish heritage breeds because while we’ll probably stay in Norway, Norway doesn’t have their own breeds in all these species, but the Swedish ones are still available.

Raising plants is even more important, as it does not just feed you but also the meat animals to some extent, but it’s hard for me to get as enthusiastic about them. XD

#personal #homesteading #livestock #pigs #ducks #chickens #rabbits #water buffalo #yak

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makotothedweeb · 5 years

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「Gofer Project AU」Rozu O(u)ma’s Story

So this is Rozu O(u)ma’s (Kokichi’s mother) story.

Before I jump into it: I’ll be writing backstories for most of the characters in this AU, including the sixteen protags. I won’t post them on Wattpad, just on Tumblr.

Click keep reading for the story.

I’m O(u)ma Rozu; they call me the Ultimate Disguise Master because I can disguise myself pretty well.

I’m a 35 year old woman with two kids, Kokichi and Kaeto, and two sisters, Sakura and Hana. Hana is a complete bitch who works as a supermodel. Since she secretly knows I live in Rozae, she’s going to move here at some point.

Sakura knows I’m here, too. Sakura is the opposite of Hana; she’s sweet, but really lazy. She lives with a severe heart disease that can’t be treated partly because of her diabetes. She’s expected to die before her 40s.

Hana, Sakura and I are triplets. Multiple births at the same time runs in my family, and I, myself, had twins.

You’re probably wondering if I know how my sons turned out. Don’t say anything; I know. Kaeto is moving to Rozae (just like anywhere else) and going to university, while Kokichi was a participant of the Gofer Project.

I, like every single other pink-blooded person, saw through the Gofer Project’s founders’ intentions, and didn’t want them anywhere near my sons. But, my ex-husband’s brother...

He’ll be dead soon, guaranteed.

Anyways, I should stop yakking about what’s going on now and talk about my life, right?

I was born on July 15th, and even though I’m Rozaen, I was born and grew up in Japan.

Something else that runs in my family is psychosis; the youngest of the children born will have it, which I have the great honor of being the last-born triplet.

Because of my psychosis, I would be bullied often at school. My psychotic demeanors were a hell of a lot worse when I was younger, but by my first year of middle school, I had it under control. However, a lot of people in the school didn’t acknowledge this and teased me relentlessly for it. I dealt with it for a while until one of the popular cunts at school called the police on me for a crime I didn’t commit.

My once controlled psychosis was out of control again once the police left. I picked up a nearby baseball bat and let her have it. And you know what? I got away with it… somehow.

Since then, something new clicked inside me. I loved the feeling and thrill of murdering people. But I knew that murder isn’t/shouldn’t be a hobby, so I forced myself to have hobbies like a ‘normal’ girl.

I’m generally an antisocial person, partly because of my fear of hurting anyone else. This lasted until I saw him… Nufuni Jokichi. I decided I had to have no matter what it costs. After killing his best friend, I figured out he liked me back, and we dated until after high school, when I proposed to him. He said yes, and we got married.

I should’ve done my research, though. My (at the time) husband came from a long line of rapists.

...Not that I’m any better, though; I come from a line of psychopaths that just happen to be Rozaen royalty.

Anyway, back on topic: six months after our wedding, he impregnated me. We were both happy to have a baby, but what neither of us knew was that we were having twins.

I feel horrible for Kokichi; he was born unexpectedly, and after that was realized, his father and his family didn’t want him. Two months later, Jokichi and I got into an argument about this, and we divorced. He took Kaeto, I took Kokichi. It was soon made clear that I couldn’t take care of Kokichi on my own, so I gave him to my brother in law and joined the Japanese army. My brother in law, after learning I joined the army, turned around and gave Kokichi to the Gofer Project. This was a hard blow to my mental stability, and my fighting got sloppy, leading me to get captured by the Rozaen army. I just decided to while my way here in Rozae until I die.

Recently, the Emperor had figured out the location of the Gofer project participants and brought them to Rozae. They’re staying with him until their families are found.

I don’t want to be found. Kokichi doesn’t deserve a horrible mother like me.

...

“I’m sorry Kokichi. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better mother. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from the Gofer Project…”

After writing this, I look at the gun I keep and wonder...

Jokichi O(u)ma is next.

#danganronpa au #tw: abuse mention #tw: suicide implied #tw: murderer #long post #writing

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tysonrunningfox · 6 years

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Tired, Hungry, and Chiefly

This chapter is my pride and joy. You think you’ve seen Eret be bad at women? No you haven’t, he peaks here. Wait, no he doesn’t, there’s that time he’s gonna super awkwardly bring up marriage at a bad time but whatever. And the poor boy can’t be trusted with his little mini stoick thing he’s got going on. Someone help him. The baby boy.

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“Is it broken?” I feel stupid asking the question as I stare at the dam Sven wants help with. I’ve never looked at a dam for this long before, of course I understand the basic idea of it, that it stops water from flowing and makes a pool that we can draw from more easily, as evidenced by the channel taking water down the hill to the fire suppression system. But there’s also water trickling through the front of it, a smaller stream than the one uphill, sure, but isn’t it supposed to stop the water?

“No,” Sven shakes his head, “we just need a bigger reservoir behind it, the chief gave permission for a secondary channel down by the hanger in case of fire and when we try to fill both,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t work.”

“Ok…” I sigh, “dumb question, but why don’t we just stop all of the water coming through it? Can’t we grab this water.” I dip my toe in the trickle through the front of the rocks and Sven looks at me like I’m stupid.

“If we fully dam the creek and get more rain than we expect, that’s a flood for sure.”

“But wouldn’t it just go the new way you tell it to?” I point at the diverted channel and Sven shakes his head, obviously frustrated.

“Well, no, it’d flood the dry riverbed and eventually the North fields and the village itself, most likely.”

“So we can’t do that.”

“No.”

“What exactly do you need again?” I rub my forehead like that’ll make it think faster or de-clutter the thoughts that are already there. I’ve been on my own with this stuff for a week and a half now but it feels like a lifetime, or at least like I have a lifetime worth of everyone else’s problems jamming up my brain. Bang nudges my hand and I pat his nose.

“You ok, chief?”

“Acting Chief,” I correct, because the opposite of what people say almost always sounds better. Acting Chief sounds ineffective when I don’t know what to do but Chief sounds like I should know what to do. There’s no winning with it really. “Just a headache. I’m fine. It’ll be better when we figure this out, so what exactly do you need? Again? Again again? Sorry.”

“We need the pool behind the dam to be bigger.” Sven speaks slowly in a way that would usually offend me, but it’s about all I can keep up with right now. “So conventionally, that means we need to make the dam wider and taller, but I don’t know what rock to use and we can’t spare the dragons to go off island for it.”

“Right,” I look around like I keep forgetting to, the absence of wild gronckles fluttering around more ominous than it should be. “What kind of rock do you need?”

“Any of the bedrock around here works best. Big pieces,” he holds his arms out wide to tell me how big, “are good, but I’ve used them all.”

“Big pieces…” I think to myself for a minute, but I’m apparently too tired to be contented in thinking about a list of places I’ve seen the biggest, hardest rocks and my mind tries to wander. The chief would know the answer, if he were saying anything other than the blandest small talk I’ve ever had to suffer through. Fishlegs might know, Hel, Rolf might now and I should probably check in on the dragon catalog anyway. That’s just another thing that got pushed aside in all of this, that and the fact I haven’t talked to Fuse about our plan in weeks. Fuse…Fuse! “Oh! Fuse Thorston is about to blow out that wall at the edge of the wood bin, by the new dock, I wonder if there’s a way to make it crumble into big enough pieces for this.”

“That’s an idea,” Sven shrugs, and in some ways I like talking to him more than other people, because he tells me when my ideas are stupid instead of just taking pity on the young, frazzled Acting Chief and letting me get away with being wrong. “I’ve used a lot of her rubble before, it’s usually a little small but it’ll do.”

“I’ll ask her if there’s any way to make it bigger.” I swing onto Bang, “and I’ll let you know what she says.”

“We need this by the end of summer!” He calls the deadline after me like I’m not stressed enough about it and I steer Bang a little higher than is really necessary, closing my eyes as we cut through a cloud and cold water condenses on my face. My beard’s getting long again, just on the cusp of annoying, and I make a note to shave it later, you know, if I have a single instant at home and awake enough to remember.

The easiest way to avoid Aurelia and the chief’s sad, dead eyes is to get home late and wake up early. Unfortunately, there’s more than enough to do to fill pretty much all of that time, so that means I don’t see Stoick or Mom either. And maybe that’s something I’m avoiding too, because at this point I’ve left her alone with this far too long if she isn’t as ok as she’s been acting. I hate that somehow, I’m at this point where I’m in a position to doubt what my mom tells me, to read into it more than she might want me to.

But she’s been ok. She’s been keeping up with the house, Stormfly’s saddle is shiny and her axe found its way back inside after spending a couple days in the demolished trunk out front. Maybe she’s doing what I’m doing and keeping busy to avoid thinking about anything and maybe that’s all anyone can do sometimes.

I land at the edge of the square, pointed towards the Thorston house and walking quickly enough to avoid any reasonable interruption, but when someone grabs my hand with an irrationally strong grip and crows in my ear, I know it’s not reasonable.

“Oh, Eret, I just need to ask you for the quickest favor!” It’s Mrs. Ack, her wrinkled arms almost mystically strong as she hooks her elbow through mine and reaches up to pinch me on the cheek. Or she tries, I think she gets mostly beard because of her height and slumped back and the fact that there’s not much unbearded cheek at the moment. It hurts anyway and I rub my face when she lets go.

“I’m a little busy right now, Mrs. Ack.”

“It’s really the smallest favor,” she drags me towards the farm stand on the other side of the square and I look almost wistfully over my shoulder at the barely visible roof line of Fuse’s shed. It’s quiet there. I bet if I asked, she’d let me hide for half an hour. I wonder if she’d mind if I took a nap, honestly. “I was just thinking to myself how I’d bought too much heavy food when I saw you landing just nearby.” She squeezes my arm the way she pinched my face, “you just remind me so much of your grandfather.”

“Stoick the Vast was known for his food carrying abilities?” I laugh and try to loosen her grip on my arm, but it’s pointless. I’ve learned that in the last couple of weeks. Vikings are stubborn and cutthroat and can’t fathom being wrong, but when it comes to Viking women, that’s all a horrible understatement. And it gets worse with age, for me to tell a woman over eighty that I don’t want my cheek pinched at this exact instant is essentially an act of war.

“He was always so ready to help.” Mrs. Ack has no visible problem picking up a basket and setting it in my arms and before I can start walking towards her house, her arm is back through mine even though she’s dragging me more than she appears to need help walking.

This is the part of being even acting chief that I wasn’t prepared for. When I was helping the chief out, I usually had a directive, I was doing one small thing to completion to the best of my abilities. But when I’m alone out here, I’m always being pulled a million ways at once, and it seems like the strongest pulls, literally when considering Mrs. Ack’s fingers digging into my arm, come from the least important places.

But I don’t exactly resent the few smaller errands I end up with a day, the grocery carrying is new but there’s always a terror in Mrs. Ericson’s tree or a yak in Mrs. Jorgenson’s house that they end up wanting help with. And they usually feed me and try to coerce me to stay for tea and even though they’re pushier than most of their husbands, they’re generally more complimentary on the kind of job I’m doing and at this point, I’ll take what I can get. If my praise is coming in the form of Mrs. Hoarkson shoving her homemade apple bread into my mouth and commenting on how I can’t keep growing if I’m running myself into the ground, at least I’m both full and tired.

“I’ll take that back,” Mrs. Ack drops my arm and nimbly plucks the basket from my hands with one arm, setting it inside her house on the floor and shushing an old Nadder that whines when disrupted from its nap in front of the fire. “Do you have time to come in for a cup of tea? I have leftover pie from last night and if I may say, you’re looking too skinny, chief. You can’t spend so much time taking care of all of us that you forget to eat.” She pats my face again and I laugh.

“I’m just skinny, Mrs. Ack, unfortunately no amount of pie is going to change that.” I take a step back and avoid another cheek pinch, if only narrowly. “And maybe some other time. I’ve got a lot to do today—”

“Can I at least send it with you?” She walks further into her house and starts wrapping up something in waxed parchment. Her husband grunts about giving away all the food and she shushes him. “It’s just Eret, Sigurd, if he doesn’t slow down and have some pie he’s going to blow away the next time he takes off!”

“I’m really fine.” I take a step back from the door but she practically sprints after me, shoving the food into my hand and patting my arm.

“Come by any time, chief, we’ve always got an extra seat at the table since our Burpa moved in with her son last year.”

“Thanks.” I’m probably not going to take her up on that, but at the same time it’s nice to know I have some option to be very well fed even if tensions get too high at home. “Have a good rest of your day.”

She squeezes my arm before letting go and I hear her chewing out her husband interspersed with brief seconds of praise that I try and take in while they last, because if I let them sink in maybe it’ll be a cushion the next time someone directly calls me stupid or naïve or laughs when I try to tell them to do something. I unwrap the pie almost immediately, eating it as I walk back across the square towards the Thorston house.

“I thought Mrs. Ack was going to lock you up inside her house and never let you out.” Someone appears beside me fast enough to startle and I drop my pie, barely catching it in the other hand and crushing it slightly.

It’s Ruffnut and when she looks at my clumsiness with vague disgust, it makes her look more like Fuse and less at the same time. Mostly it makes me miss Fuse’s fond annoyance at my antics, even though it’s only been a few days since I’ve seen her.

“She seems convinced she can feed me out of my skinny phase,” I look down at myself, the bony lines of my ribs practically visible through the shirt that’s somehow tight on my shoulders and loose everywhere else. Maybe it’s a holdover from when Mom was…incapacitated and the chief was getting someone else to do all the laundry. It must have shrunk and then stretched funny. “I told her it’s not a phase. What can I do for you, Mrs. Ingerman?”

“Oh come off of that,” she rolls her eyes, “I wiped your butt. It’s Ruffnut, whether you’re some fancy chief or not.”

“Acting Chief.”

“Yeah, you are acting like a chief but I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Do you need something?” I shove the slightly crushed pie in my mouth and almost choke on a crumb, coughing after I manage to force it down.

“I was just checking that you’re actually that clueless,” she shakes her head, “and not letting yaks into the Jorgenson house just to check up on the misses.”

“That was so weird,” I laugh, “it left really willingly too. Which was good because I know about as much about livestock as I do about—”

“Women?” She raises an eyebrow and everything about the way she’s looking at me makes me uncomfortable. It’s like she’s both on my side and against it and I have no way of knowing which way she’s facing at any exact instant. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“I was going to say being chief but, I mean—”

“Women works better.” She rolls her eyes and shifts her basket to her other hip. She looks young like Mom, but in a different way, like she stole it from other people’s youth by teasing them until they willingly handed it over. “Don’t let some grandma pinch your arm off before my niece comes to terms with how clueless she is, alright?”

“I uh…” I frown, “I’m going to go talk to Fuse now if she needs help with something. Not that I usually have more clues than she does, but—”

“That’s gotta be the Astrid part, right?” She’s talking through me more than at me and I get that all too familiar feeling that everyone knows something I don’t. “Hiccup figured it out eventually and it wasn’t as obvious.”

“You’re being super cryptic and not helpful at all…”

“Odin, that’s always weird,” she shakes her head and sighs at me like I’ve caused her great personal distress. “When you do the…the talking thing, like that. Ugh. Anyway, I’m not going to ruin the surprise for anyone, so I’ll see you around. Also, just in case you didn’t know, Terrors don’t actually get stuck in trees. They can fly, just, by the way.”

“I know terrors can fly,” I call after her but she doesn’t stop, a fact I’m frankly glad about because I wasn’t enjoying that conversation. “But I did think that one was weird,” I mutter to myself, licking a spot of filling off of my thumb and feeling oddly like I’m being watched. It’s probably Mom, probably ready to jump out and tell me off for my manners, because even chiefs can’t escape those.

Right before I turn to walk up to the Thorston place, I spot Hotgut out of the corner of my eye, landing hard in front of the forge, belly probably full of something heavy and explosive. Fuse slides off of her and I change direction, clicking when Bang doesn’t follow immediately. He’s been sluggish too, well, that and clingy to Mom any second I let him out of my sight.

Smitelout drops whatever she’s doing, literally, and leans over the window to talk to Fuse. Fuse has one of those wrinkled drawings and Smitelout frowns at it, trying to smooth it on the windowsill.

“Ok, but how does blowing up an island help anything?” Smitelout asks at full volume right as I get there and I shush her, earning a spectacularly dirty look.

“There’s a thermal vent under the island that it seems like the dragons are trying to get to.” Fuse explains casually, voice low, and I hope she’s not still dwelling over Aurelia. I hope this isn’t fake confidence, because that’s not something she’s ever supposed to have.

“How could you know that?” Smitelout scoffs at an appropriate volume and I lean in slightly like my back could possibly shelter anything we’re doing. The drawing is just a shell, thankfully, nothing that’d give it away as anything out of the ordinary.

“We found some old drawings that said that island wasn’t there a few hundred years ago and now the sick dragons keep diving into the volcano—”

“Ok, ok, I get it. Let’s blow the bitch then.”

“We’re trying,” Fuse rubs her temple, dirty bandage on her first finger stretching halfway up her nail. Her fingertip leaves a dot of soot behind next to a freckle and I don’t believe she’s ever been clueless in her life. “That’s what that baffle you worked on is for, it’s a directional amplifier and I can’t get it quite right yet. We need something really big to get a vertical fracture that’ll actually opens something up—”

“And that’s your shit,” Smitelout cuts her off and I glare at her, “and the twerp likes hearing about it, apparently, weird flirting, again—”

“Can you just help without all the commentary?” The arm closest to Fuse feels hot, like I can tell she’s uncomfortable, like bringing up flirting makes it worse for no reason that makes sense. Maybe it’s because it’s Smitelout and because Aurelia just did what she did, maybe Fuse feels weird trusting someone who’s clearly delusional.

I can’t say I don’t share that fear.

“You need six of these?” Smitelout looks at the drawing again, “I assume you can’t pay, given that this is some kind of secret…”

“How much do you want?” Fuse rolls her eyes and I shake my head, leaning my elbow on the counter.

“It’s Smitelout,” I scoff, “the answer is probably your house, your shed, everything in your shed—”

“I’ll do it for free if you go away, Twerp.” Smitelout looks smug, like she pulled one over on me and I sigh.

“I think I might be able to manage that,” I push off of the counter and look at Fuse, half frozen for a second as I dig for something in the mess of my short term memory. “I had to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t remember,” I laugh, “it’s been a day. I think your aunt might have threatened me.”

“Which Aunt?” She frowns and I didn’t know she had more than one.

“Which do you think?”

“Oh my gods, go flirt somewhere else,” Smitelout bellows, smacking her hammer against her anvil like she can spook us away like wild Terrors, “you’re scaring away customers.”

“Nope, just your personality, Lout.” I start walking with Fuse anyway, unsure if I should address the flirt comments or not. “I don’t know why she finds the idea of me flirting so funny. Like yeah, it would probably be a disaster, but that seems to be the only thing she can find to make fun of. Which…come on,” I gesture to myself and wish I hadn’t said anything. She glances at me like I’m crazy, cheeks suddenly red like she’s thinking about making the quietest escape possible and I scratch the back of my neck, “uhh, that thing I had to talk to you about though. What was it? I know this…”

“How would I know what it is?” She frowns, eyebrows knit together and how did Smitelout think we were flirting? She’s looking at me like I’m the dumbest thing she’s ever seen.

“I know you don’t know.” I smack my forehead a couple of times with the heel of my hand, “I swear, I get why the chief carries a notebook around all the time now, how am I supposed to keep everything straight?”

“Maybe get a notebook.”

“Super helpful, Fuse, I hadn’t thought of that.” I gripe, and I keep going back to the flirting comment, because it’s so stupid and disruptive because I know I have something real to talk to her about and now I can’t think of it. “Wait! I remember. Sven needs rocks to shore up a dam and I asked you to go ahead and column the corner of that wall and I was wondering if there’s any way you could like…leave bigger sized rubble when you take it down so that we don’t have to find dragons that can search for stone off island.”

“How big?” She slows down, dragging her feet slightly as that practical engine lights up behind her eyes. I hold my arms out and accidentally bump her in the arm but she doesn’t notice or if she does, she doesn’t care because Smitelout is an idiot above all things.

Some things remain the same, at least.

“About like…eh, maybe? I think a bit bigger or smaller would be fine, but we don’t want like…pebbles.” I sigh, “I’m not being descriptive enough, am I?”

“No, I get what you’re saying.” She bites her lip, snaggletooth peeking out slightly as she narrows her eyes, counting something only she can see. “Maybe some smaller charges at the top and bottom spaced a little wider than that. There’s always going to be that vaporization bubble but if I could try and get sort of a grid on it…”

“Vaporization bubble?”

“Some of the rock vaporizes if it’s close enough to the bomb.” She grins, her eyes lighting up like I just told her she could blow something entirely new up. I’m glad she’s looking better, like she’s not dwelling on Aurelia, and I’m really hoping the Mrs. Ack’s of the island hold off long enough that I can ask her about it.

“That’s awesome.”

“Right?” She laughs before falling serious for just another moment, “and I can try it, I mean, no promises. I’ve never tried to control rubble size before except, you know, making it smaller than could fall on someone and kill them but…I’ll try it. I’ll let you know when he could expect it to be done when I figure that out.”

“Thanks,” I laugh, “did you know that you make things really easy? There’s more arguing in carrying old Mrs. Ack’s groceries than in getting you to do something crazy and impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” she shakes her head, “I don’t know if I’ll get it right the first time but if building materials are a thing we’re looking to optimize—”

“Something crazy then.”

“They’re not very big charges—”

“Ok, there we go, there’s the Viking stubbornness.” I laugh and she doesn’t seem sure if she should laugh with me. It’s frustrating, because I can’t tell if that’s just Fuse being Fuse or if she’s still upset and I wish I were funny enough to draw that line a little more clearly because all that’s left for me to do is ask, and that feels like ruining probably the only pleasant conversation I might get to have today. But it’s the right thing to do and as I’m becoming a boring slave to that idea, I sigh and try to figure out how I can best get this over with quickly. “Also, just…how are you doing?”

“Why are you saying that so significantly?”

“Because I should have just asked how you’re feeling about the whole Aurelia thing and I’m an idiot.” I sigh, trying to read her face as the question sinks in.

She thinks about it a little longer than she usually does and shrugs, “I’m not happy.”

“I’ll talk to her again when I see her, alright?”

“If you’ve already talked to her, I doubt you’d have anything new to say for trying it again.”

“Not everyone’s brain works as fast as yours, Fuse, I’m frequently left coming up with excellent come backs days to weeks after a conversation actually ends, so I’d be willing to bet I’d surprise myself.” I can feel myself talking funny, not funny like I’m trying to sound like someone else, just…odd. It’s like I want her to correct me, to tell me that I’m smart or something, which is kind of a failed attempt from the start in a conversation where I couldn’t remember an important conversation from three hours ago. “I won’t though, if you don’t want me to or—”

“You’re checking in on me.” She stops and cocks her head, braid falling over her shoulder. It’s tangled and only holding onto what seems like about half her hair at this point, the rest tucked behind her ear and sticking to the front of her vest.

“You were upset.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, not directly, but…I still care when you’re upset. You’re my friend. One of my best friends, really.”

She halfway smiles, brows still furrowed like she’s waiting for me to say something else and unlock a last, mystery piece of some puzzle.

“What?” I wipe my beard, “do I have pie on my face?”

“Thanks,” she grins, slow and quiet like her smiles ever are and I feel better for opening my mouth, for once. I don’t have to worry how she’s feeling because I know. “And no pie, you’re clean.”

“Thanks,” I say because that feels like a compliment even though it’s not, really, unless I’m someone who doesn’t believe in myself to get food into my mouth without messing it up. Which, fair, but not necessarily encouraging.

“Eret,” my mom appears beside me and rests her hand on my shoulder and I jump like she just caught me doing something wrong. I turn to look at her and she’s giving Fuse a pointed look and I step out from under her hand.

“What? What’s up?”

She raises her eyebrows at me and looks at Fuse again like it’s something she can’t say in front of her and I almost blurt out that I tell Fuse everything anyway, but that’s volunteering her for something without asking first and with my family involved? Well, it could be bad.

“Can I come find you later?” I ask her and she looks between me and my mom, shrugging.

“Sure, I’ll let you know what I come up with.”

“Yeah,” I nod, “good. Thanks for, you know, making it easy and stuff.”

“Sure…” She lingers for a second, glancing at my mom before deciding not to say anything else.

“What?” I turn back to my mom, trying not to let a sudden flash of irritation creep its way into my voice. “Is something wrong?”

“Don’t you have some work to be doing?” She raises an eyebrow like she knows something I haven’t told her and I look over my shoulder like Arvid or Aurelia is going to be lurking there, armed with something they promised not to share when we were on better terms.

“Like what? Do you need something?”

“You volunteered for this, Eret—”

“What are you talking about?” I gesture after Fuse, “I was just talking to her about the wood bin, she’s doing something the chief asked her to before—well, he asked her to and then Sven needs rock for some dam and I was asking if she could, I don’t know, help me out with that and she said she could.”

“And Smitelout—”

“She was overcharging Fuse for the special thing I’m asking her to do,” I half lie, “I fixed it.”

“And Mrs. Ack—”

“Come on, Mom, you’re going to say I’ve been goofing off with Mrs. Ack?” I roll my eyes, “she asked for my help with carrying something, I’m just trying to help people which, last time I checked, is the gist of my job.”

She stares at me for a second like she’s looking for a lie and I scratch my face, taking a step back and looking over my shoulder for Fuse. Maybe I should have asked about that nap in her shed, because I’m about that exhausted at this point.

“Can Fuse do it?”

“Can Fuse do what?”

“Whatever you asked her to do.” Mom raises an eyebrow, “because you were asking her to do something, right?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s going to try. Apparently it’s going to vaporize some rock but—”

“That’s encouraging.” She sounds angry in a way that almost means something and I wonder what I’ve missed at home while avoiding it as much as possible.

“I thought it was kind of cool, honestly.” I mime my hands blowing apart and make a sound like what I’d imagine vaporizing rock would sound like. Kind of a whoosh. “Just…as a concept. Just…boom and the rock is gone. And the crowd goes wild…”

She’s unimpressed.

She purses her lips at me and crosses her arms.

“Have you told Sven that Fuse is working on it?”

“Well, no, because she just finished telling me that she could do it.” I gesture up the hill where Fuse went, “and then you interrupted the end of our conversation and that brings us up to the present.”

“Is that an attitude?”

“Is trying really hard to be cooperative even though you’re interrogating me for no reason an attitude?” My voice cracks slightly and I clear my throat. “Because if so, yes, this is an attitude.”

“I like this attitude. It’s good. Keep it up.” She nods at me and I fidget slightly under the odd weight of her gaze, like she’s trying to scan my brain for something I missed.

“I’m just trying to keep things together.” I shrug, “I’m probably messing everything up but…”

“Go talk to Sven, maybe make sure he has a secondary plan in case Fuse can’t do what she thinks she can.”

I cross my arms, “the secondary plan is send dragons off island to search for stone.” That’s a challenge I hate posing, I hate wanting her to say something other than I know she will.

“Well, what’s wrong with that plan?”

“Lack of dragons, Mom. That’s one question I do know the answer to.”

She frowns but I’ve hit the one subject she won’t argue with me about because like everyone else I’ve tried to talk to, she’s not willing to admit I have a point because somehow, that magically might make it right. I don’t think it works that way but Hel, I could be wrong. Maybe if I found some optimism I could turn this whole thing around. Maybe Acting Chief means the kind of power everyone wants it to be.

“Fine. Are you going to be home for dinner tonight?”

I shrug, “I don’t know, Mrs. Ack did invite me—”

“You should come home for dinner. Stoick hasn’t seen you in days.”

“He hasn’t seen Bang in days, you mean.”

“Well,” she tugs on the tight shoulder seam of my shirt and frowns, “you two are kind of a package deal so…”

“I’ll be home.” I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“Good. I’ve got new clothes for you.”

“Fine.” I take a step back and she looks almost hurt, “I mean thanks. I’m sure they’re good.”

“See you at home.”

#eret iii #festerverse #fuse thorston #smitelout jorgenson #he's trying so hard at chief guys #he's doing such a good job #with the middle aged women crowd #they love him

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dracocheesecake · 1 year

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Lady Daiyu Long: Random Headcanons

She has horrendous handwriting. It's so bad that no one can read it. When she was alive she had to dictate her letters and messages.

One reason for this may be because when she was younger her parents tried to send her to a poetry camp to help improve her handwriting and teach her literary skills- but she secretly joined a circus instead for that summer. She did aerial silk dancing, tightrope walking, acrobatics, and trapeze (skills which later helped her much more than literature ever could).

She has always had a ridiculously high pain tolerance, even as a small child. Once when she was three she fell down a small set of stone steps, but by the time her mother ran over to comfort her she was already up and playing again as if nothing had happened.

Daiyu cannot stand being tickled. If anyone tries to tickle her she will immediately become violent.

She's Buddhist, but not particularly religious; even though her family was wealthy, they spent most of their money helping to improve the lives of others and benefit the city. She believes in reincarnation and karma, and is acutely aware of her own immense karmic debt.

She's a pacifist, but by no means a completely nonviolent one; she believes that force should be used if necessary, if one can't talk their opponent out of a fight; and then that force should be strictly non-lethal.

She has no respect for rich people who carelessly flaunt their wealth in gaudy displays of opulence; her own family lived very simply.

She knows how to sail. Her family had a house right on the lake of their city, and their own boat. Her father taught her how.

She usually holds her hands behind her back if she isn't holding anything- she copied this from her father. When she is holding something she's always playing with it in some way- save for her staff.

She tends to be very deadpan, but especially when she's making a joke- usually in the form of a pun.

Her "stone faced" persona arose as a masking technique used to make people take her more seriously.

She's terrible at making tea and doing small chores- she's used to having servants to do these things for her, but she does try to learn how to these things for herself, though she isn't always successful.

She has an enormous appetite most of the time, and won't hesitate to eat anything that's available no matter how gross or seemingly inedible it may be- including garbage that's been sitting out in the sun for who knows how long.

#kung fu panda #kung fu panda oc #kfp oc #daiyu the true night warrior #just a smidge little bit of stuff I felt like posting about her because...I have so much stuff to write about her I wanna scream #but writing is a slow and painful process 😩#this lizard and her horrible yak husband have taken over my brain halp

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workingclassclimber-blog · 6 years

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Liberating Lasagne

I've had a right crap week- like super crap. Christmas is officially over, although I wasn’t that bothered about that; took my desert dry tree down boxing day- so really, its been over a while. But you know what it’s like, that horrible January hangover: no money, no light, no hopes and dreams-it’s just the worst. Well that’s where I am right now, yak!

Prior to Christmas I had a bit of a wobble, got overly emotional in Costa. I think the people in Costa thought it was because my butter was too hard to spread on my teacake but that was only like a really teeny tiny percentage of the reason I was having my meltdown...

The main reason was because I think the weight of the loneliness hit me and I think I'm still really feeling that weight now. It’s as if ‘losing’ (I use that word with reticence because my husband isn't dead) someone, especially your ‘partner’ doesn't make you feel ‘lighter’ or ‘free’ at all; it makes you feel heavy. It makes everything really hard. It makes the air around you feel that little bit thicker and the ground that little softer- like walking on sand. You can do it easily enough- it’s just harder. And that’s the best way I can describe what life is like at the minute, not impossible, just harder.

I suppose when people are happy they say they feel like they’re floating; I get that now. If you scroll through Instagram you’ll find a whole plethora of people ‘floating’ maybe just for the second for the flash of the camera, it’s impossible to tell.

Yesterday I really did hit a bit of a wall, so I made a lasagne. I’m really not into cooking, but I had some mince and pasta sheets- most of the ingredients, minus the garlic- it was Edward Cullen friendly. It didn’t take long, and at the end I had a (nearly) perfect little lasagne and it was really nice to just do something simple and complete it and enjoy it. I ate some, put some in boxes in the freezer and there’s some in the fridge- and it genuinely made a difference to my mood. Reminded me of that scene from Peep Show when Mark makes roast dinners when he's stressed. Maybe this will be my thing..

Lasagne anyone?

#lasagne #singlemum christmashangover happy edwardcullen january heavy peepshow cooking wobble costa breakup clover secondpost

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sorayahigashikata · 5 years

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Chapter 90: "LIKE A COCKROACH."

#Paula reads SBR #Chapter 90 #so Sandman gets retconned and dead and gone #but THIS dick is back for more #thanks Valentine #I wish his death had hurt a lot more #Steel Ball Run spoilers #Part 7 spoilers

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gwythaint · 5 years

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For several years, I have been running a Wuxia pastiche campaign within my Northport setting. The population of Northport is quite mixed, having a large number of goblin artisans (the goblins have lived in the city since its founding a few thousand years ago), humans, orcs, and a fair amount of mixed folk, given the situation to the east, where the nation of Shevnia lost a war with orcs because of a lost paytrain for their army, sort of like the post goblin war of Lesserton & Mor. There are nations with different cultures to either side of Northport, which is set in an area inspired by Banestorm, in the old empire of Aral, with Valdassya to the west, and Shevnia to the east. In addition to the Aralaise speaking Orcs, Goblins, and humans, there are two other communities: Little Shevnia to the east, and Little Sahud to the west. I was sort of looking at Tredroy as an inspiration for part of this. (Of course my city was also informed by the advenure Banrnacus, City in Peril. from Dragon Magazine # 80, as mentioned on my last podcast, along with my frequently recommended Ruins of the Undercity)

I know that using a pan-Asian pastiche like Sahud in my campaign is pretty crassly not PC, but I had a request by several players armed with google translate and wikipedia articles and a general knowledge base of cheesy kung fu films that wanted to play in that kind of setting. With apologies to the large number of people who may be offended by this kind of colonial cultural appropriation, this is how the long running conflict between Sakemoko , the patron of these characters, roughly 450 points:

Sakemoko is a squire+treasure hunter+ 50pt genin lens with born warleader 3 ,charisma +2, social regard 2: respected, (Social stigma minority, code of honor: bushido, sense of duty to Sahudese,) guild rank 4, status 2 filthy rich Large ally group of catfolk ninja office:master of funerals, He also has several points in independent income based on His involvement in numerous side businesses

and Akira Aku No, his enemy, roughly 500 points

half oni boss, head of rival ninja clan Brute +treasure hunter+ 50pt wizard lens+ 50pt ninja lens+ infernal + half ogre, has bloodlust, berserk

Both of these figures had extensive ally groups, each having at their service numerous ashigaru, and rival ninja clans.

The Team consisting of Chye Isuel, an ashigaru with some distant dragonman heritage, Chou-Zen Mou, an elder infused wizard specialized in lightning spells, Ales Konstantin, a Shevnian Squire+Adept, Iskander, a Valdassian martial artist (the player was using mostly 3e to build him), Tanaka Kojimaru, a Samurai warrior poet. Jin the Yak and Airis Moonshadow were no longer with the group.

Along with them were Di San Ge Er Zi the one eyed Ashigaru, and a number of mercenaries they hired away from Akira Aku No’s mercenary recruitment drive for promises of better pay, the swordsman Xu, and his partner Chung Wang (Thank you Jackie Chan) as with most of my npc’s, I give a super brief stat block pulled usually from DF15 until more details are needed.

Chung Wang is a Brute St 15 DX 12 IQ 10 Ht 12 Hp 15 per 10 will 10 fp 12 T/s 1d+1/2d+2 Bs 6 mv 6 dodge 9 parry 10 DR 3 torso 5 Skills brawl 13 Two handed sword 14 tetsubo, 2d+4 crushing Gluttony, overconfident, compulsive carousing, greedy

Xu is a Skirmisher St 11 dx 14 iq 10 ht 11 Hp 11 per 10 will 10 fp 11 T/s 1d-1/1d+1 Bs 7.5 mv 7 dodge 11 parry 12 Dr 3 Combat reflexes, ambidexterous Extravagant, impulsive, compulsive carousing Ambitious, suspicious, jealous Broadsword 16 1d+2 cut Shortsword 12 1d cut Karate 12 Fastdraw katana 15 Fastdraw shortsword 15 Light lamelar and helmet with ear and neck protection, Cheap ornate katana and wakizashi

Having decimated the forces of Akira Aku No on the initial raid to recover the tea set containing a divine being or two, and then by robbing his casino, the oni blooded boss had to resort to hiring mercenaries, including, initially Xu, and Chung Wang and a couple of naginata wielding ashigaru, along with Ale’s enemy, Bresnark, a magic user equipped with Rain of Stones and also accompanied by a Created Brute Warrior, who was defeated and robbed of his mundane gear by Iskander and Tanaka. Bresnark could probably have been taken out, except that he has plot protection as an enemy, and has to be defeated by Ales.

During the assault on Sakemoko’s compound, with rooftop ninja archers and assorted poorly armored mooks attacking the gate, a couple of ninja’s got in ( one disguised as a new ashigaru hireling, who was spotted as odd by Di San Ge er Zi,) and poisoned the food stores in the kitchen and then through poison shuriken at the two ashigaru it was hired with. They then led a chase through the complex, cutting holes in shoji paper walls and hiding in the rafters before being cornered in the library, where they were cornered and threatened to burn the place down (Ales stepped in and used Extinguish Fire) They were locked in irons, from which they made an escape, and were eventually hunted down. Chou-Zen had eliminated another ninja who had been on the roof, by casting grease and causing them to fall into the koi pond in the courtyard. Another one was dispatched after the shoji walls were all collapsed and it had no place to hide. The poisoned Ashigaru were treated by the house physician, Yodoko no Hana, who is based on Ehi Shiina from Audition

Yodoku no Hana (poisonous flower) 125pt sage, with Alchemy, poison, physiology first aid, physician, herbary and esoteric medicine, Psychology diagnosis and surgery and detect lies, but no modular book learned wisdom. (Instead, she has the ninja lens) She has callousness, sadist and curious and has torture, pressure secrets and massage? She is attractive and immune to poison and has high pain tolerance. She makes poisons and potions That cause sensitivity and reduce will

In the end, Sakemoko siezed a coveted office, MAster of Funerary Services, from Akira Aku No, who had botched things when his barrels of salt packed dead waiting shipping to the homeland were animated by a toxifier demon, and arranged for all of the funerals of the people who had attacked him, and even gave stipends to the families, building him more Social regard.

Akira Aku No appeared a day later with a full procession including dragonmen and musicians, and sued for peace, saying that he was relocating to Little Shevnia for a beaurocratic job, and sold off his remaining interests in Little Sahud to Sakemoko.

From here, the crew will be heading to Veroigne, a region south of Northport where rice is grown for the Sahudese of Northport.

Veroigne developed in the campaign because a new player wanted to play a member of royalty and his husband, captain of his guard. I had little trouble building them, except for the general absence of Social Status in DF, and settled on giving him a couple of levels of Courtesy Rank. The two, both handsome Chivalrous knights, had a backstory that created some campaign setting. By not accepting an arranged marriage, Baronet James forfeited the barony to his sister Loraine, who had married Marcel Pequenaud, the baron from a neighboring comunity that had serfs, while most of the Veroignese had died during the plague forty years ago, leaving the small barony struggling. Pequenaud is a horrible ruler, and most of the family retainers loyal to Sir Percival and James have become Robin-Hood like bandits dedicated to protecting the peasantry from the Barons predations. As his soldiers are largely collecting taxes, Several other PC’s from Northport (Kirpich Rockson the Priest of Grom, Syvanus the elven archer/thief/wizard, Marlena the Seasoned Apprentice and Snorry Rosslovich the Seasoned Guard, all of whom searched for the lost paytrain in the Shevnian Hexcrawl, along with Dionysus the faun swashbuckler, Aethul the ranger, and Balir Ironhide the Dwarf are on their way to hunt the Terrible Beast of Veroigne, which is terrorizing the peasantry. Along the way they have met a party of Dolmenwood creatures, a moss dwarf, a woodgrue, a frost elf and a grimalkin, and had little issue with them except for the compulsive playing of the woodgrue, that affected a party member or two, and a fantastic creature, the Stag of Veroigne, which gave Aethul a blessing when he approached it nicely. Killing it would have brought on a curse, which would have intensified if they had eaten it. It would have resurrected itself like Frey’s Goats the next day had they done so.

As to what James and Percival were up to in Northport? Thjey joined up with a pair of warrior /wizards, Sederic and Grimaldi to hunt down the racketeering Connard DuMenteur (Asshole the Liar) who had informed the Guard of Vilgar’s underground fighting operation at the very start of the campaign, back in August of 2013. Connard had a fortified building with all access to the undercity cut off, so as to prevent an attack from below. Among his personal crew of kneecappers and fingertakers who collected money for him were five brutes (including Lourdad and Chienne LaChatte, a gigantic elder infused brute that collected fingers as trophies.

After bashing through the brutes, one surrendered (Lourdad) and they went after DuMenteur. He had holed up in his Magelocked lower appartment, and had time to load up on paut, and set up a trap. He opened a secret door that lead into an L-shaped closet, and hid in an alcove behind an arras, and waited for them to break in the door. They had been using sense foes earlier, but they all blindly ran into the close, and had it Magelocked behind them, and were stuck for an hour. when they got out ( the door was stone, and the knights were in front, unable to squeeze past to attempt to break down the door), Both DuMenteur and Vilgar were waiting for them, having come to a financial arrangement. ( I have a lot of bosses parlaying). Grimaldi and Sederic of the cursed, dancing sword went on to do some advertising work for the underground tavern, standing watch while some laborers nailed signs.

Another group, the one that had negotiated a truce with the ogres in the winecellars and are travelling with a four-armed demon hunting celestial descended from a servitor of Kali had tracked down a couple of cultists who were on their way to buy cuttlefish. The cultists of Saturnos the Devourerer have an initiation rite in which the supplicant dyes theyr robes in cuttlefish ink by placing it in a barrel with them and agitating the squiddos by drowning a cat. This leads to the typical markings of the cultists, blackened hands and scratches all over their faces. Typically, they are led into what they think is a sex cult with offers of carnal relations with succubi and incubi, and up until now, the assorted groups of PC’s had thought they were dealing with a demon cult, especially due to all of the petty demons and Demons of Old that they had faced. They were forgetting about the Demons from Between the Stars… As it was discovered by this group, which included Oly the thief, who had funded the paytrain Hexcrawl with loot from fighting the cult when Ludlow the Munificent accidentally blocked their ceremony and created a gate to Hell, Mancini the Guild agent (Agent+Treasure Hunter) and his guard ally Norman, Aoife the Leprechaun Druid who was on the mission to negotiate with the Trolls and entered the Library of Flax, Ardenas Barehand, who had been involved with Oly in stealing the Jugga Trophy from the Orcish Dojo, along with Kalima, they discovered what the cultists were really about.

Kalima - 250 pt celestial avatar of Kali Att 80 Adv 149 Dis -50 Q-5 Sk 44 Sp 32 Total: 250 Attributes: ST 15 [0]; DX 12 [20]; IQ 13 [60]; HT 13 [10]. Damage 1d+1/2d+1; BL 39 lbs.; HP 15 [0]; Will 14 [0]; Per 13 [0]; FP 14 [0]; Basic Speed 7.00 [-10]; Basic Move 7 [0]. Advantages: Celestial [75] (ST+1, dx+1,iq+1, ht+1, will+1, fp+1, bs +.5, attractive , fit, spirit empathy, celestal nimbus,divine gifts, Divine curse (preferred enemy of demons) weakness to evil areas) Half Ogre [20] ST+4 [40]; IQ-1 [-20]; HT+1 [10]. Advantages: Damage Resistance 1 (Tough Skin, -40%) [3]; Fearlessness 1 [2]; Night Vision 3 [3]. Disadvantages:Appearance (Ugly) [-8]; Social Stigma (Savage) 2 extra arms [20] Higher Purpose, Slay Demons [5] Sharp Teeth [5] power Investiture 2 [20] signature gear, spear [3] Charms [6] Dis: Unattractive [0] Honesty [-10] Pacifism, Cannot harm Innocents [-10] Sense of Duty [-5 ](Adventuring Companions) selfless [-5] Bloodlust [-10] Bad Temper [-10] Unnatural Features 3, (3rd eye, Black glossy skin, flame red hair) Q usually wears only silk loincloth, coral bracelets and anklets, marigold wreath, likes to dance Charms Aura Invisibility Turn Spirit Final Rest Steal HT Eviscerate Skills: Brawling 8 15 Wrestling 4 13+2 Spear 12 15 Garrotte 4 13 Theology 2 12 Thanatology 2 12 Hidden Lore, Demons 4 14 Meditation 2 12 Intimidation 1 15 Detect Lies 1 11 Diplomacy 1 11 Stealth 1 12 Observation 1 12 Dance 1 12 Spells: Protection from Evil 4 15 Invisibility 4 15 Final Rest 4 15 Aura 4 15 Steal HT 4 15 Turn Spirit 4 15 Eviscerate VH 8 15 Equipment: Spear Pussiant +1 vs Demons Currently wearing a bolt of reddish linen as a sari.

When they followed the cuttlefish seekers back to their lair, finding their signature trap, Evil Runes that drain FP, and stealthily took them and a couple petty demons out, they found a large crowd of cultists about to sacrifice a demon of old! the demon, along with some petty demons participating in the ceremony, immediately attacked Kalima, a favored enemy. The feeling was mutual, and she drained health on a couple, like her ancestor, and the demon ripped free of his silvered chains and flew up to attack her (he had berserk). She killed him by eviscerating him and eating his heart. Unfortunately for the PC’s all of the deaths (and there were many) enhanced the ceremony in progress, the summoning of an Elder Servitor. It took a lot, including Ardenas using Winged Knife on the cult champion’s silvered greatsword to kill the servitor but they did. The cultists of the Devourerer, who started the campaign by killing everyone who had the spell divination or any kind of oracular ability, are Cultists of the Elder Gods!

This was noticed by the Ymid, with his Sense Weird ability, but he was two bothered by the destruction of his skiff ( a nifty little contragravity craft he had parked on the other side of the Bone Gate) by a Bhole passing through the gate. Yaay there is now a super Dire Rot worm somewhere in the dungeon (pencilling in a purple worm encounter). The Juniors group will be fetching alchemical components for the repair of the skiff. Additionally, they have just acquired some cultists of their own; some serfs fleeing Veroigne who were met on the road by thatr gorup, who are all worshipers of Vejovis, the roman defender of injustice, worshiped by Nodwin, the Initiate travelling with the Juniors group.

Now for some art updates:

These two are going to be in Gabor Lux‘s Echoes from Fomalhaut 5.

I am also working on a bundle of Dungeon entrances:

Links coming soon when I get a few more drawn.

In the meantime: Support my Patreon!

Buy my Stuff!

I am an affiliate of Drivethru, all of those links are affiliate links, except for the SJ Games stuff that goes to their website.

A resolution to part of a campaign, and some play reports For several years, I have been running a Wuxia pastiche campaign within my Northport setting. The population of Northport is quite mixed, having a large number of goblin artisans (the goblins have lived in the city since its founding a few thousand years ago), humans, orcs, and a fair amount of mixed folk, given the situation to the east, where the nation of Shevnia lost a war with orcs because of a lost…

#Artwork #Cultists #DFRPG #Dungeon Fantasy #GURPS #Kalima #play reports #wuxia #Ymid

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