The fact that trolls are so much… Bigger than humans never ceases to amaze you. Perhaps the biggest of them all are the purples. They tower over other trolls and all but dwarf humans as fully grown adults. Straddling Marvus’ thigh like you are seems to highlight this fact. Your feet barely graze the ground and as he reclines in his seat you swallow thickly. His eyes are hooded and intent on your face as you gaze back at him. He looks completely relaxed with one arm cushioning the back of his head and the other dangling loosely over the armrest.
“Well baby, you asked for this.” He purrs, sending heat straight to your stomach. His pupils are blown, belt undone and zipper pulled down to expose the way his bulge writhes in interest. He’d gone commando today and the sight made your mouth water. A clawed hand drags over one of your knees and you suck in a breath. “C’mon baby, don’t be shy now.” His thigh flexes underneath you and your hips give an involuntary jerk. Your hands are resting on his lower stomach, the sweat slicked satin of his shirt clutched in your fingers.
When you fail to move again he bounces his leg and lets out a low growl. The movement causes you to gasp as your front collides with his. The hand that had been cushioning his head cups the back of yours to pull you into a filthy kiss. His tongue drags roughly over your own and then snakes over your teeth before he finally pulls back. Panting in a daze you glance into the hypnotic purple of his eyes.
“Ride me.”
You clutch at his hips for a better angle and give another experimental roll of your hips. Pleasure zings through you and Marvus gives a low and pleased groan.
“That’s it, yeah baby- mmmn.” You watch in fascination as his bulge seems to curl around itself to try and get some friction. “God you look so fuckin depraved.” He leered, flexing his leg in time with your grinding. Letting out a quiet moan you let one of your hands trail down to his bulge causing him to curse as his hips arched at the sudden contact. “No-,” He snapped snatching your hand away as he forced your hips down harder on his thigh, “No baby, tonight be all about you. Take your pleasure.” He guided your hips into a rougher pace and you whined as your toes curled, hunching over you he places open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw before pulling away ever so slightly.
“Take your pleasure and I’ll take mine.”
The way his voice drops and how his hand keeps you moving hard and slow against him has your orgasm approaching quickly. You want to pull away, to stop just to prolong the feeling, but that’s not what Marvus has in store tonight. Your hips stutter as you grow closer and you curse.
“That’s it baby- come for me.”
Your hips jackrabbit against his thigh as the orgasm takes you. He doesn’t give you a moment to recover as he keeps you moving. The pleasure unrelenting.
“Marvus-,”
“Shh,” He purrs, something wicked in his expression, “I told you to take your pleasure.”
Despite the fact the two of you were of a completely different species, you could safely say that you and Polypa had one of the closest relationships you possibly could have. It was why she had followed you across the vacuum of space and time, through countless realities, and had somehow yet again found you. She was someone you treasured above all. In this reality, where cultures mixed and divided and fought, you tried your best to do what she needed. There were times as a moirail you felt quite helpless- and others you felt at your element. Gathering every pillow, blanket, and sheet in your house as you headed towards your room was one of those ‘in your element’ days. Tossing the blankets onto the floor you stripped your bed and proceeded to empty out the floor of your closet. After years of doing all this your closet floor was decidedly bare- a few shoes and boxes and some clothes that had slipped off their hangers. Polypa wouldn’t care about the mess stacked next to your bed- what would matter would be the inside of the closet. A warm enclosed space filled with the scent of you. The first layer was the fitted sheets, pinning them to the floor so they stretched out, this was important for the mess you’d both make later. The second layer was the couch cushions and then the thin sheets. An elevated platform so you weren’t sleeping on the literal floor. You’d learned the hard way that it would hurt your back to continuously do that. From there you draped the duvets over the entire mound before putting the more comfortable pillows down. By the time the entire thing was done it looked like a nest. Perhaps the closest thing you could create to a feels jam pile. Wiping off your hands you gave it one more look over before leaving your bedroom. She had said she’d be there soon- which for Polypa was as vague as either an hour or five minutes. Passing by the thermostat you turned the heat up slightly before continuing to the kitchen. Tossing the popcorn into the microwave you rooted around in the fridge for some sodas.
“What movies are we watching tonight?”
“Jesus!”
You jumped whipping around to find Polypa sitting on your counter. Giving you a mischievous grin she continued to wind her usual bandages around one of her legs.
“Well?” She asked after you had calmed down.
“We’re watching The Notebook and Where The Lovely Indigo Attempts To Start A Matespritship With A Cavalreaper Unaware That They Are The Moirail To Their Kismesis Who Wishes To Pursue A Red Relationship With Them.” You personally hated how long troll movie names were, always a mouthful that was more the synopsis of the movie than leaving anything to surprise. Then again you appreciated they were up front about the plot. Humming appreciatively Polypa tucked the remaining bandage away and hopped off the counter.
“Subbed or dubbed?”
“There’s options for both.”
“Good.”
“We’re watching The Notebook first.”
“Why?”
“Because your movie is four hours long.” You deadpanned earning an unrepentant grin.
“Well if that’s the case then we’re watching Alternian anime tonight too.”
“Troll Naruto?”
“Troll Guren Laagan.”
“I hate you.”
“Pale for you too.” She looked entirely too smug as she grabbed the popcorn, dumping it into the large olive green bowl you had out. She knew that the show always made you cry- even worse than the human Guren Laagan did. Following behind her with your drinks you couldn’t help but smile despite that. You’d both be crying by the time the credits rolled but at least you’d be enjoying the time spent together.
Just like you always did.
Ah fuck here we go. Trying to keep this up to date will be an adventure.
HOMESTUCK
FRIENDSIM/PESTERQUEST
TRANSFORMERS
MARVEL
616 MARVEL
DC
SONIC (plot twist I adore my fast boy and friends)
POKEMON
STAR TREK
ARCANE
STAR WARS
THE ARCANA
LOTR
TMNT
X-MEN
HETALIA
SUPERNATURAL
BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA (not confident in this one but I've read the Manga and watched the anime so...)
FNAF
SHERLOCK
hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon
-
alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.
I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back
Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share
AND LISTEN- LISTEN-
NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.
God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???
NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY
EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-
Me on my way to post some stuff I've been sitting on and decided to revamp after work.
Heyo! I was wondering if i could ask for a spicy pt 2 to 'That [redated]",by chance?
I'd be happy to! What would you like me to include? Here's my FAQs if that'll help!
https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/652307814891536384/faqs
Gay month is GO
It was easy to forget the type of world you’d ended up crashing on. Despite the hardships you had endured you had managed to live a life- almost sheltered by Alternian standards. It was an odd thing to consider. You had broken your bones, spilt your blood, and fought like hell through the harsh Alternian nights- but you hadn’t truly faced someone hellbent on seeing you dead. Well, that wasn’t true, but the memories of that time were vague and fogged as if trying to recall your earliest memories.
Feet sore, lungs aching, you darted as you had seen Karako and much younger trolls dart to escape your pursuers. You kept your gaze on the horizon, on the roots and the snapping plants, heart in throat you put one foot in front of the other and cursed your luck. Either they’d run you down or you’d reach help before then. Every bit of your old survivalist instincts were screaming at you to do everything you could to stay ahead of your attackers. To outlast and outwit them to the best of your abilities. Even as your body begged you for rest. Clearing a fallen log you stumbled on the landing and kept going. A graceless run of prey being pursued by hunter. You were lucky, the violet bloods didn’t have guns or long range weapons. If they wanted you they’d have to catch up first.
Of course your good fortune couldn’t last forever, all it took was a loose rock in your path, with a breathless shock of icy terror your legs twisted out from under you as the rock was dislodged. The dirt, now loosened from how the rock had apparently been holding it in place, shifted and your terrified silence turned into a scream as the ground fully gave way. What you hadn’t had the time to register beyond the trees and brightly colored poisonous foliage was the sheer incline it all was rooted to. Behind you was the renewed energy of the violets, sensing the proverbial blood in the water as the landslide took you. Your hands shot out blindly, desperate to latch onto anything they could to slow your rapid descent. Stinging plants and harsh thorns tore at your fingers leaving a trail of blasphemous bright red in your wake. Agony shot through you as sharp rocks sliced into your exposed skin and you wheezed as you collided roughly with a tree. Clinging to the trunk of the thin sapling you prayed it wouldn’t dislodge as well. Breath ragged and painful you glanced around rapidly at your surroundings to try and get your bearings. It would hurt but you could still claw your way back up the incline- that is if the entire reason you were in this mess anyway wasn’t there laying in wait for you. As if on cue a finned head popped into view. Too far down the incline you couldn’t tell if you had been spotted or if he was still looking for you as you went perfectly still. The violet motioned to someone else above you and another head came into view. For a moment you thought you might be safe- and then a third head came into view. Your stomach clenched with renewed fear as the third violet blood pulled out their weapon. The harpoon spear glinted in the alternian moonlights and you could feel the prickly sting of your own tears building up.
You were going to die. Permanently this time.
With silent dread you watched as the troll above you raised his arm higher to aim. A glance below you, further down where you had almost fell, showed a similar fate. A harsh drop that would break more than just a few bones. If you let go of the tree you would tumble to a possible death, but if you stayed where you were you would be speared and fed to the horrorterror lurking underneath the waves. All choiced pointed towards your death- but only one of those choices would be on your own terms. Glancing back up at the faces peering down at you the choice was made. Taking a deep breath you let go of the tree just as the seadweller threw his harpoon. You slid faster and faster, tumbling over yourself as you went, something agonizingly sharp pierced your shoulder and you cried out. Head bouncing off a low branch you knew no more.
Marvus was growing increasingly worried. Every dm he had sent you had gone unanswered for the past four hours. He’d chittr stalked you, checked your instagore, picked through your pesterchums, and even your grubtube. But none of them had given him anything to go off of. He had even gone so far as to dm Polypa to ask if the two of you had gone to a movie or something, but according to the olive blood she had spent the entire day with Tegiri. It was as if you had dropped from the face of alternia altogether. He scowled at his phone and ran a clawed hand through his hair. Today was supposed to be his day off, the two of you were going to hang out and if everything went alright he was going to ask you to spend the day. Maybe even make a move or two. Instead he was pacing his hive, nearly losing his mind with worry. It wasn’t like you to be this dormant- especially considering most of your friends kept track of you through your accounts. You hated to worry your friends for any reason. There was more to it than that but Marvus wasn’t your moirail and so he kept firmly out of it. Now, he was wishing he’d been more nosey. Sending another unread dm he cursed and threw on his signature jacket. Snatching his cane up from where it rested next to his front door he barged out into the late night. Most of the trolls he passed were heading home after a long night of work or partying to sleep away the scathing heat of the coming day. They leapt from his path as if burned as he marched down the sidewalk towards the woods you had last been seen in. His expression might have been relaxed but the orange-ish tinge to his eyes spoke volumes of his annoyance. Not quite rage, no- Marvus was rarely angry with you, but the maelstrom of emotions nagging at his thinkpan were so obnoxiously loud he could have screamed. His white knuckled grip on his cane as he flexed his fingers trying not to lash out at the trolls staring at him kept them from trying their luck with the celebrity. If he could have cast out his chucklevoodoos to turn the entire neighborhood into a mindless search party he would have. But if you were truly fine the display might frighten you and that was the last thing Marvus wanted. The search would take longer by himself but he reasoned it was for the best. You had most likely fallen asleep somewhere or made another friend who was monopolizing your time with them. It was a reasonable assumption. True danger always seemed to skip right over you. You always knew the choices to make to survive.
He found you at the bottom of a ravine. Your body unnervingly still with a golden harpoon sticking straight through your shoulder and pinning you firmly to the ground. He was careful as he slid down towards you. Not wanting to trip and possibly land on you. His bloodpumper was pounding in his ears as he grew closer, terrified that you had finally met your end. There was so much red, so much unnervingly bright mutant red. It slicked your clothes and muddied the ground for the entire world to see. If he’d been the painting type, the religious type, he’d say it was a sacrilegious masterpiece. Instead all he could focus on was the tremor in his hands as he checked your pulse. Whoever had done this… He caught his reflection in the polished gold of the harpoon, the bright scarlet of his eyes and the sneer pulled tight across his face. He’d kill them. He would fucking kill them for this.
To your surprise you awoke. Sunlight struggling to burn through the blinds and purple curtains covering the windows of the room. A thick blanket had been tucked up around you making it difficult to do more than wiggle. Your shoulder and head a dull throbbing reminder of what had nearly come to be. The hulking shadow of a large troll caught your attention near your legs and you glanced down to find Marvus lifting the blanket to check the carefully done bandages on your legs. You must have made a sound at the sight of the violet blood still slicking his favorite jacket, nausea over what he must have done surging forward, causing him to look up at you. Those striking eyes were ringed in a deep scarlet, contrasting with the rich purple that was quickly marking his soon to be adult molt. He smiled, slow and predatory.
“Don’ worry none lil mama, I took care of it. You jus catch some ‘z’s yeah?” His hand reached out and smoothed back the hair that had fallen into your face. “They ain’t gon hurt you. I promise.”
As his hand continued to stroke your face you realized he wasn’t wearing any of his jewelry, the paint on his face had been smudged, and there was a predator’s satisfaction oozing from every bit of him. Something warm and soft nudged at your mind, reminded you of the sweet siren’s call of sleep. Your limbs growing heavy as your eyes drooped.
“Marvus?” You croaked in confusion, he smiled at your scrunched brow and slight pout.
“Lemme take care of you babe.”
“M’kay…” You yawned the fight and adrenaline leaving you as if siphoned away. He hated to use his chucklevoodoos on you but if it got you to rest then he didn’t see the harm. As you drifted back towards a dreamless slumber he pressed a kiss to your scalp and sighed. He’d have to call Polypa, it was her right as a moirail to know where you were and to help him finish the last motherfucker off. He glanced at the harpoon still crusted in your blood and its obnoxious violet insignia. Rage boiled under his skin, only abated by the fact you were there with him and recovering nicely.
It’s been a few months since your encounter with Boldir, you won’t say ‘chance’ because it had been arranged, and you’ve been simply continuing with your life. As it turns out Boldir lives in a little apartment downtown not too far from the bakery you frequent. She’d seen you going there and recognized you, apparently it was Mallek and Dirk’s cyberstalking that led her to seek you out officially. You aren’t sure if you should feel grateful for their paranoia and less than morally applaudable methods bringing Boldir back into your life. It’s not as if you’re happy those two are stalking you but you are happy to have a friend back. It sits on the back burner of things you worry about- not so much a pressing thought as a pop up.
The two of you have slowly been getting to know each other again. Outside of his control you aren’t the same person that Boldir was familiar with, and even she has changed outside of Alternia’s influence. Some things remain unchanging, such as her fashion sense and love of conspiracies but its noticeably not driven by a need to survive. She’s more relaxed. Though there will always be that part of both of you that is still on guard against threats. That’s willing to do the morally dubious to survive. It’s an unspoken acknowledgement between the two of you. There’s blood strewn between you from what you’ve both done in Alternia’s harsh nights to sleep through another harsher day. You don’t think any one of your neighbors or any manner of people you’ve interacted with understand it the same way Boldir does. Or any of your old friends do. You know that no one would suspect you capable of half the things you did. Some nights you still wake up with horror numbing your body and terror screaming at you to move. Those are the nights you make yourself something strong to wake up to and settle in for feeling like shit through the entirety of the day. To say you’re working through it is a hopeful mantra. You hope that there will be a day these feelings will be but a distant memory. As it is you’re wide awake and nursing a coffee like it’ll burn your unsavory memories away with enough exposure. You’d decided to go to the mall today since you hadn’t been in some time. Mostly you were just looking for a way to kill time. Sitting on a bench watching the other mall goers flit about you were starting to regret your decision. Everything here was just making you feel worse and even more exposed. What you wanted to do was crawl your way under your blankets and stay there. Getting up you tossed your drink into the nearest trashcan and went looking for the right exit. You had to pass one of the little mall theatres and suddenly stopped. Now wasn’t the time to miss her. And yet you were frozen remembering the taste of popcorn and the comforting darkness as the credits rolled. Of her hand in yours. It had been a while since you had an episode so bad you missed Polypa like one might miss a limb. The breath you took rattled through you thinly and you knew you had to get out of there before you got any worse. It took a conscious effort not to break out into a dead run. Instead you were walking briskly, eyes glued to your own feet, as you rushed towards the exit. You tried hard not to bump into anyone but even so you still managed to do it. Just a clipping of shoulders and elbows. Head shooting up you went to apologize only for the air to leave your lungs entirely.
She looked wonderful, black cargo shorts and her signature tank top. The chip in her horn was still there but it wasn’t the jagged wound of your memories- instead it looked tended to. The edges softened to keep it from being so glaringly obvious. Her hair was still the messy black you came to appreciate but this time it had a sort of neatness to it. Polypa looked right at home. Tongue tied you could only stare with wide and disbelieving eyes. There was movement out of the corner of your eye- slow and deliberate- but you only had eyes for your moirail. Or rather, former moirail. A hand carefully hovered near your cheek and you could feel the tears stinging against the corners of your eyes. Her lips pulled taut into a thin line and her hand pressed firmly against your jaw. Then her other hand came up to do the same. There was the rustle of plastic and you were vaguely aware of the bag dangling from her arm as her hands cupped your face. As she took a small step closer.
“Polypa?” Your voice cracked and you shut your mouth with a click of teeth. She wasn’t your moirail anymore. She wasn’t. It didn’t make you want to collapse against her any less. The harsh lines of her brows seemed to soften at that as she carefully guided you closer and you had to wonder exactly how pitiful you must have looked.
“Where’s your scuttlebuggy?” She asked quietly. Your shoulders trembled.
“I walked.” The walk had seemed like a good idea at the time. A way to clear your head. Now it seemed like the worst decision you ever made.
“Okay.” She was wrapping an arm around you so tightly you were forced to walk pressed flush against her side. A protest bubbled up your throat and promptly died on your tongue when you saw the few trolls scattered about blatantly staring. Against you Polypa’s chest rumbled with the hint of a warning growl. You were reminded of all the times you’d been in a similar situation back on Alternia, though those times you’d been the one doing the comforting. Had Polypa ever been given the chance to return the favor? There was that first time but you’d been so out of it he’d stolen your words and warped them to fit the narrative. The realization helped sober you just a bit. This was the first time she was seeing you break. The real you. Your entire body shuddered as the realization settled into your mind. This was it. If Polypa didn’t like what she saw it was over. The comforting memories of the two of you together would be overshadowed by this. This simple but momentous moment. Your tears were finally getting to the point of blurring your vision as the two of you exited the mall. She was warm, you thought to yourself, not the same warmth a human would give off but warmer than you remembered. And she was still tugging you along pressed tight and held firmly in her grip. How the two of you managed to walk all the way back to your house you weren’t sure. It seemed as if one minute you were walking away from the mall and the next minute Polypa was taking your house key out of your fumbling fingers to open the door herself. Again you could feel a protest bubbling up. A warning that she had to leave now because you couldn’t handle it if all this amounted to was you getting your hopes up. As she shut and locked your door behind you both the words stilled in waiting on your lips.
Why had she locked your door?
“Force of habit, come here.” She replied forcefully, you hadn’t even realized you’d asked her that out loud. As Polypa gathered you back up close again she took in your little home. It wasn’t much of course. Just what you’d managed to scrape up and get when you started out here, but it was nothing to be ashamed of. With a careful precision she walked you through the house and straight into your room. In moments you were being sat on your bed as Polypa knelt down to unlace your shoes for you. The action had you feeling rubbed raw. Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks as she carefully pulled off your shoes and set them aside. Her face was impossibly soft as she looked up at you.
“Is this okay?” There was something raw in the way her voice just barely trembled. As if this was just as meaningful to her as it was to you. With a choked sob all you could do was nod. She was careful as she crawled onto your bed with you- kicking off her own shoes as she went. There were the beginnings of translucent olive colored tears in her eyes. A desperation you felt just as keenly mirrored in her actions.
It broke what little restrain you had as the agony of it all overwhelmed you.
“I missed you.” She whispered as you laid barely awake and hollowed out curled up close and warm against each other. You squeezed her with what little strength you could muster, voice long gone from your feelings jam. Me too, you wanted to say. A few more tears tracked down your face as Polypa settled in closer. You two still had so much more to talk about. To discuss. To figure out. But it could wait. As you finally drifted off into a well deserved sleep you knew she’d be there when you woke up. It was the first time you slept like the dead since coming here.
Dwarven young are extremely well protected. Most will not leave the mountains until they are the human equivalent of ten years of age. More so, dwarven young will not be allowed out of their homes until they are the human equivalent of five. This has caused the misconception of dwarven babies being carved from stone.
Of course the parents often take it as a compliment! To dwarves comparing the child to rocks or stronger metals/gems is similar to saying their child is strong and will live a long life. Common things dwarven parents call their children are often Pebble, Stone, Precious Gem, Gold Nugget, Ore, and in some instances Coal Ember. This, of course, only makes the misconception of dwarves being carved from stone more popular.
Common nick names given to children often have to do with the parent’s craft. It is not uncommon to hear the dwarf child being called Little Pickaxe or Little Forge depending on profession. Many times the parent chooses to only refer to the child by a nickname when outside of the mountain they live in. It is an old custom carried on into the present that is meant to protect the child by making sure a stranger cannot trick them into thinking they can be trusted.
When it comes to human charges, however, the rules change. Often dwarven family will refer to the human as their middle name, a family name, or by descriptors. Though some will refer to them as metals/stones/precious gems and the like it is not as common as the former. It can be guessed with a surprising bit of accuracy that a dwarf who refers to their human(s) as metals, stones, or precious gems has known that human since their birth and has taken over most of that human’s raising since then. This also carries over to other species adopted by dwarves though humans are the most common.
It is considered bad manners to refer to someone as their actual name when introducing them to strangers unless that stranger is in a higher position than both persons. If one does not know the rank of the stranger a safe bet to go with is the dwarf’s family name/clan name with a descriptor such as ‘Dark hair of the Irontooth Clan’. Children are not to be introduced to strangers until they are firmly in their teens. This has caused quite a bit of shock to dwarves being introduced to children of other races. The most children get as introduction to a stranger is ‘my child’ or ‘my (2nd/1st/3rd/etc..) eldest/youngest’.
WARNING: Do not ask a dwarf child their name. Ever.
Your friendly pansexual fantasy writer and theorist. Come and be welcome. I'm happy to take requests for different fandoms as well! !!REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ENCOURAGED!!
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