#mitth'urf'ianico | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vibratingskull · 15 days

Note

I as so excited you open your request.

Can I ask a ThurfianxF!reader based on your Thrawn mate story? I would love if reader was sent to the Chiss Ascendancy by Thrawn (like he knew reader would match with Thurfian by her smell or something)

This will challenge our xenophobic boy, and I'm sure the fact that out of all he gets to meet his "mate" thank to Thrawn, will piss him off more than the fact that the reader is human.

g:xkf;glghogfuhfd THURFIAN MY BELOVED ❤️❤️ My old man ❤️❤️❤️ He would have a heart attack in all honesty 🤣

Beautiful drawing by the talented @thrawns-backrest

Tags : Thurfian is an ass, xenophobia, mate system and culture, attempted assault, Thurfian saves the day (Go King!)

Thurfian lays his head on his hand, scrolling on his comm. He likes to get an idea of the current climate through comms during his rare break times throughout the day to compare the info he receives on his official feed on his computer. It helps him get new points of view and perspectives.

That also means going through an impressive amount of tabloids. He really should look into how to block these sites on his comm, they are a nuisance and a disgrace to true journalism. He is scrolling through one of them rapidly when the title of an article stops him.

“Truly cut for the role? Why the Mitth Patriarch’s lack of mate highlights a worrying trend.”

He remains fixated on that one for a solid minute, completely flabbergasted. His first instinct is to call his lawyer to have that tabloid closed for the affront, but it passes quickly. Instead, he puts his comm down sighing, feeling tiredness washing over him. He passes a hand through his long braided hair, laying his head back against his chair.

The most painful thing is that that rag is true. All Patriarchs of every family recorded in history with a big H had a mate, no exception ever. Some found them sooner or later in life but none reached his age without a partner sitting with them on the throne. He is quite the exception.

The shameful exception.

He feels Thivick disapproving gaze on him during diplomatic dinners with other Patriarch and their mates, the seat next to Thurfian being desperately empty.

His hand comes to loosen his collar to allow him to breathe better. He closes his eyes, feeling defeated.

It was not always like that in his life.

He used to collect lovers back in his youth, potential mates or not, none were safe from his charm. A large collection of Chiss visited his bed when he was a young adult. He shamefully admits that he played potential mates to get access to their intimacy before leaving them when they were no longer fun. Non-potential mates were less difficult, they both knew what they were here for. And then he started his career as a syndic and left dating and playing around in the past to dedicate himself to his career. He, naively he will admit, thought he would meet a new potential mate at work, getting to know each other day by day, falling in love over time, and deciding to mate and unify himself with her, finishing his life at her side. Something simple and uncomplicated.

Boring to some, sufficient for him.

But all the women he met were taken, non-compatible, or rejected him. Mates tend to get together young when they can, way younger than he was already back then. He made peace with his situation, choosing to focus on his career and what he could do for the Mitth, becoming a “mateless”, one of those people who failed at settling down with a compatible person in time. Not the most glorious, but he could do with it.

And all was well.

Until he became a Patriarch.

And his situation was brutally rubbed into his face again.

A Patriarch without a Mate is a failure.

No matter their results.

Having a mate is the first step toward respectability in Chiss society, and a Patriarch failing at that task is the subject of gossip and mockery and always on the verge of being overthrown in favor of a more stable individual. It is such an easy insult to throw at him. And he fully deserves it. If he didn’t play so much with potential mates in the past he wouldn’t have his sulfurous reputation of player and heart stabber. Not so many potential mates would have rejected him since then.

He recalls how he used to modify his smell with perfume, something highly prohibited in Chiss society. Misguiding the potential mate of someone else by modifying one’s scent markers is highly illegal.

But he was young, hot-headed, and an idiot.

And today he pays the price of his entire life choices. He grew and matured decades ago but the harm had been done.

Sometimes he envies mateless species. Simply living and falling in love or living free of the marital and mating duties... Sounds comforting and liberating.

When was the last time he felt the presence of a potential mate?

Several years, easily.

More than ten years since he last smelled that delicious scent of honey, liquor, and tea leaves on someone. The one scent signaling him that this person is compatible with him. The same as his.

He greets his teeth.

“The Mateless”

His unofficial title when his back is turned.

His shame, his dishonor. The stain in his life.

But what can he do now? He is fated to finish his life alone, the question is more about how he will meet his end. Back in time, non-mated Patriarchs could get executed for failing their family, for being too unstable, and for not providing an heir to the family.

It was millennia and millennia ago, of course. Chiss evolved past those barbaric laws, but the prejudice remained, remembering Thurfian that ages ago his life choices would have guided him to the pillory.

Thurfian suddenly freezes and opens his eyes wide, almost trembling in shock.

That smell...

No.

It’s impossible. He must hallucinate, that’s the most logical explanation.

Thurfian suppresses a laugh at his own idiocy. Of course, it is impossible. Crossing paths with a potential partner at his age is simply improbable. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, what a stupid thought just crossed his mind!

He turns back to his files, waiting for the hallucination to settle.

But five minutes later, the scent he stopped hoping for is still here. Well present.

Heady.

Overporwering.

Making his head turn and his heart pumps harder. He almost starts feeling vertigo.

He gulps, passing his hand through his long hair.

He needs to calm down and be rational.

This is impossible.

But the delicious scent of tea leaves titillates his nostrils, like a dare, like a temptation.

He needs to be sure!

He almost jumps on his feet, before remembering who he is and calmly exiting his office. He is the Patriarch and a Mitth for the Warrior’s sake! He slowly, almost lazily walks in the corridors of the Manor.nHe really needs to keep his expectations low. They surely already know about his scandalous reputation. But maybe...

Just maybe...

They could come from a far enough away world to have never heard about it!

Highly unlikely!

But he cannot help but hope.

The further he walks into the Manor, the more significant the smell of tea leaves gets, the notes of honey and liquor mixing deliciously, enhancing that superior scent. Thurfian chides himself. By all accounts that mysterious person will already be taken and mated to someone else. But nothing prevents him from coming to meet and befriending them.

Yes.

A friend is also appreciable, he has so little left since he accessed the throne. He nods to himself. A friend would be perfect.

His comm rings, prompting him to stop to check it.

It is a Syndic of the family signaling that a stranger with the highest priority code message wishes to meet Thurfian, waiting for him in the Manor’s salon. The message is short and leaves no guessing about the urgency of the demand.

But not even a family name? Thurfian frowns, dubious.

And the salon is exactly where the delicious scent is leading him right now.

When he reaches the large and heavy old-style wooden doors of the salon the delectable smell invades his lungs and nose, he can breathe it in at each inhalation. That’s definitely them!

He opens the door to meet the Syndic who sent him the text.

“Patriarch?” They ask surprised, “What are you-”

“I am here to meet them.” He cuts them short, walking past them.

“Ah! Patriarch! Wait! Plea-”

Thurfian keeps going and passes the arches with palpitations.

He turns his head and...!

Stops dead in his tracks as the stranger turns their head to his arrival.

An alien!��

A... Human!

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

“I need your help for a delicate mission, Commander.” Grand Admiral Thrawn said to you, skirting his desk to sit.

“Of course, Grand Admiral.” You stend to attention, “What can I do to serve you?”

Thrawn smiled tightly. Always energetic and willing to serve, obeying every one of his orders and missions with brio and excellence. You were one of his most trusted officers with Karyn Faro. Nothing he could ask you would throw you off your rhythm or deter you.

You crossed paths pretty early in your respective careers. You were one of the first to recognize Thrawn genius and merit in warfare and followed him ever since, asking the chain of command to affect you with him on every ship he received the commandment of.

Your loyalty towards the Empire slowly melted into loyalty towards the Chiss. He never said anything, that he, himself, could fail and precipitate your end. That he could become your very death if your true colors were revealed.

But you were just so good at your job! He trusted you with his life and he worked to keep you both out of the blast radius. He needed your competencies and skills at his side.

But...

Maybe the Ascendancy needed you more.

He remembers.

The man, looking straight at him with cold detachment during his trial before disappearing in silence.

His Patriarch.

Single and alone.

Unstable, they would say.

How could he command the Mitth family in those conditions?

Thrawn somehow sympathises. He knew he could only rise so high in Chiss ranks as a mateless, that at some point his genius would stop carrying him and his mateless character would stop any further ascension.

They needed someone with something to lose in command.

Not an unstable like him.

And as freeing as it was for him to come into a system where mates were not the norm, he also realized long ago that he couldn’t change his home in any meaningful manner. That the mate order was here to stay.

But maybe he was also not the only one suffering in this system. Now that he has risen to the top he understands the pure loneliness and isolation that come with power, but if it is here to stay for him, he can maybe still lend a hand to that man.

It is not uninterested, far from that. It is purely strategic. Chiss politicians seemed to care a lot about the mating order, to the point that mateless individuals could get fired at any given moment in favor of a mated. And Thrawn remembers his History books, the fate reserved to mateless Patriarchs.

To those men and women who failed to conform to Chiss values and therefore weakened their families. And although he has no real good grasp of politics, he has no difficulties imagining that a weakened family of the nine could greatly destabilize the current system and the Chiss Ascendancy as a whole.

So if he sends you, his little miracle back home, maybe he could help stabilize the powers in place. That was risky, but beating the odds is his trademark after all.

Admiral Ar’alani discussed it with him lately, confirming that the Patriarch that sent him away was still in place, still mateless, still unstable, and therefore dangerous to the Ascendancy.

Thrawn could very well wait for him to fall and get replaced, but Ar’alani told him that he remained a very powerful blood Mitth. A powerful blood Mitth that would owe him a very, very huge debt if his plan worked. And he knows he will need all the allies possible when he gets back from exile to the Ascendancy.

So maybe

Just maybe

If he sends you to that man...

You may just be his ticket to more power and freedom to protect his people.

Honestly, he didn’t believe it at first when he met you. How could you, an individual from a mateless species, be compatible with a Chiss?

But his smell didn’t misguide him. Your scent and pheromones are highly specific and match his Patriarch’s profile.

By all means it was a crazy plan, but he already agreed with Ar’alani that she would take you on the Steadfast and guide you into the Ascendancy. As an Admiral without ties to any family, she will be able to give you access to the Mitth Manor by playing her cards right and he will give you his message, his “peace treaty” as Ar’alani called it.

That’s very much not his style and usual strategies but how could he survive in the long run if his tactics don’t evolve with the times?

“At ease, Commander. It is a very peculiar mission, that will need fineness, dexterity, and tact, but I trust you. I know you will rise to the challenge!”

“For you, I will!” You assured him.

‘For you’

If you were any of his other officers he would have chastised and corrected you in an exemplary manner! You were here to serve the Empire and not just a single Grand Admiral.

But your relationship evolved past that point long ago and he came to appreciate your devotion to his person.

And right now he hopes this devotion is as deep as he imagined it for you to accept this mission. Because this is not just a diplomatic mission. It is a life-changing mission.

Mating with someone isn’t a laughing matter to the Chiss and he knows full well you will go without knowing your true purpose.

He cannot reveal it to you.

You would say no.

Understandably.

And he does feel guilty to trap you in such a way, but he knows his time is limited in the Empire and he must prepare his return to the Ascendancy. And a willing Mitth Patriarch could ease a lot of difficult situations.

He remembers his discussion with Ar’alani a decade ago, about how he saw people as tools. He needs to see you that way to send you there, no matter the friendship that came to form between you two. He eases his guilt thinking this is not such a horrible fate for you, to become the Mitth Patriarch mate is to live free of worries and wants, in a comfortable home with sophisticated and cultured persons.

You will have it easy.

At least money-wise...

Ar’alani warned him of Commander Eli Vanto’s tepid welcome among his people and chances are you’ll get the same. He knows you can take it, he is more worried about the Patriarch’s behavior.

Will he ever accept a human as a mate? Will the Chiss accept a human as a Patriarch mate?

Your status as a diplomatic agent will protect you but as soon as you will set foot in the Manor, the Patriarch will understand and his reaction is unplannable.

But those who don’t try and take action get nothing!

“I need you for a diplomatic mission. A very, very long diplomatic mission...”

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

"State to me again. Why are you here?" The Chiss asks you.

You straighten your back and readjust your position on your chair. What doesn’t he understand ?

“I am here on behalf of one of your good friends. I bring you a message and an offering of peace and appeasement, he also asked for me to offer my service to you.” You repeat, controlling your tone to not sound condescending.

It is simple really.

The chiss, the ‘Patriarch’ looks at you intently, his hands clasped before his lower face, his burning red eyes fixing you like he was trying to disintegrate you. What’s annoying you is his manner of bringing a perfumed handkerchief to his nose every five minutes, like he was keeping a gag at bay. You took a shower and dressed in a freshly washed uniform, why does he act like you reek?

Does Chiss have more sensitive olfactive receptors? Does humans smell is that unnerving to other species? Thrawn never specified any such info to you.

“Because you think he is one of my… ‘Good friend’?” The Patriarch asks with a sneer.

“He is your fellow Chiss, and a Grand Admiral of a close power nation with sensitive information about the immediate survival of your Ascendancy. He considers it sufficient to demand you listen to his propositions."

The Chiss eyes fall back on their equivalent of a datapad, reading again what Thrawn proposed. You’re only the messenger with Admiral Ar’alani, Thrawn didn’t specify to you the intricacies of his proposition and wrote everything In Cheuhn, his mother tongue.

As the man reads again the terms of the treaty you take time to observe him in more detail. Tall, with deep blue skin, and burgundy red shiny eyes, despite being older than Thrawn he is dignified and haughty, clearly still having long decades before him as Chiss live longer than humans according to your Grand Admiral. His clothes are expensive with very intricate embroideries and multiple layers of pricey fabrics, the prominent red color seems specific to this family. Braided long hair in a sophisticated fashion, makeup enhancing the sharp Chiss features, now you know why Thrawn had the habit of underlining his eyes with red eyeliner… A single intricate ring, probably a family heirloom, proof of his role as head of the family.

So this is the man...

The one you promised Thrawn to serve, for ‘the good of both species and future diplomatic relationships’ as he put it. You silently sigh. You are doing it for him. For the genius that he is and his mission… You had all the time to question your sanity and why you accepted.

But you know why…

Because Thrawn’s gaze was clear and assured, and this could only mean one thing

Victory.

Thrawn warned you this mission could take as long as a year, if not more… way more. But you accepted nonetheless…

Well at least this ‘Patriarch’ isn’t displeasing to look at, it is your only consolation considering his bad temper. He never once was impolite but made absolutely no effort to make you feel welcomed and comfortable.

As a soldier, you don’t mind. As a diplomatic agent, his lack of concern is a red flag for the mission.

“Why you?" He asks out of the blue, eyes lazily raising back to meet yours, or rather to make you lower your head.

You don’t. You look straight into his burning gaze, unflinching. Is he asking why Thrawn sent a woman? His contracting throat muscles indicate his real mood, the little patience he has, and his true desire to have you walk away from there.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn trusts me.”

That’s litteraly the only reason he gave you. You could tell he had another reason, but what Thrawn wants to keep hidden, will remain hidden.

The Patriarch raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"I already conducted several diplomatic missions, I am…was his go-to officer for them and speak several wild space languages, like the one we are using now. I was the most suited for the job."

He sneers, your answer far from satisfying him.

“I am afraid that isn’t sufficient to be worth my time."

“I know your secret.”

Again, he raises an eyebrow.

“And what secret do you think you know exactly?” He inquires with a sadistic smile stretching his lips.

"How you travel through space. Without any Navigation computers. This secret.”

His smile vanishes instantly, an incredulous expression flashing on his face before melting in a controlled, but very much real, anger.

“You are lying.” He modulated his voice carefully, the tone is almost sweet with a note of poison.

You very sternly shake your head.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn took care to teach me. He wanted to make sure you would not send me back, not with my knowledge.” You plainly state.

His expression closes back in a detached, cold, and aloof expression. You cannot read him anymore.

“You are bluffing. He is an indiscreet and a fool, but he would not betray the secrets of our navy like that.”

You sigh, reaching the end of your patience.

“You use little girls with very rare capacities.” You let him know without a shadow of a doubt.

He closes his eyes slowly, taking in the information that yes, Thrawn did actually spilled the secret to you.

“You realize I could very simply have you executed and get done with all of this?”

“I am under the protection of Admiral Ar’alani and Supreme Admiral Ba’kif.”

You hear a faint growl emanating from him. Whatever happened between them, the Patriarch and the Supreme Admiral aren’t on good terms.

You try to smile politely.

“Come on Patriarch, are the mighty Chiss so terrified of one woman? I am but a messenger from one of your compatriots, only wishing to do good for our two nations. Take it as the opportunity to build privileged ties and bounds with a future powerful neighbor. Your family would be on the forefront of the scene and the negotiations.”

“Do not teach me how to do my job.”

“Far from me that idea.” You temper, “I am merely pointing out the benefices you could get by listening to the Grand Admiral.”

“You spoke so highly of your dear Grand Admiral. Learn that he left us with a terrible reputation and was sentenced to be exiled for treason. We do not give credit to his words or any of his peace offerings.” Once again, he takes his scented handkerchief to his nose and deeply inhales it.

“I am aware. He also contests those accusations but counts on your common sense to see the bigger picture.”

“I think we are finished here.” He stands haughtily, “I will ask Admiral Ar’alani to conduct you back to your Empire and your dear Grand Admiral.”

“I am going nowhere, Patriarch. He bestowed me this mission and his trust and I intend to honor both.” You stop him firmly.

He contemplates you with lassitude.

“Why going so far for him?”

“I trust him.”

“That cannot be the only reason.”

“To you, it may not be sufficient. To me it is. I learned to know him and I saw the grandeur of Great men in him.”

“How touching. Someone will escort you to the do-”

“I invoke the Protocol 39 of Chiss laws for diplomats.” You cut him.

This time you thought his head would really explode.

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

Thurfian lets the fresh water roll on his skin.

He is absolutely fuming.

Where did you learn about that stupid protocol 39?! That damn law should get repealed urgently! A law offering asylum to alien diplomats who know about that particular protocol has no place in their books. It is a useless remnant of a past era of the Chiss Ascendancy when they were weaker.

But you knew about this protocol and invoked it out loud, and now he has to offer you protection...

He sighs.

Of course...

Ba’kif told you. It is the only possibility.

Whatever Thrawn planned, Ar’alani and Ba’kif are in leagues with him, leaving him all the mess to deal with.

What in tarnation Thrawn had in mind? Revealing one of the most dire secrets of the Ascendancy to a human? That Vento one wasn’t enough, he had to send another lost puppy to the Chiss. But this time he sent it to Thurfian.

He almost wants to laugh thinking back at that ‘peace treaty’ as you called it. Gibberish, unenforceable, naive. Thrawn learned absolutely nothing about politics during this decade. His true goal is so apparent and frankly Thurfian feels like he spat in his face.

Who does he think he is? And who does he think you are to even think this could work?

Him? Mitth’urf’ianico? Mating with an alien? Thrawn lost the last remnants of his foolish mind.

How would that even work? You humans have no mates, what did he hope would happen?

He gulps, his throat dry.

His own body hoped for something...

To his horror.

His dignity revulses at that thought, but his body awakened quite... brutally at the proximity of a compatible individual.

A young

Unmatched and single

Potential compatible individual.

He hates to admit it, but you are the prime example of a perfect Mate. A shame you are an alien, that spoils everything.

But his body, again, disagrees with his morals.

It only sees a potential, fruitful, and willing potential mate, ripe and ready for the harvest. His own body betrays him, desperate to get to know you better and pushing things to their climax.

It his demanding you, craving you, your scent, your voice, your touch...

It has been almost 6 months.

6 months of pure torture for him. Of his body feeling the presence of an available mate and entering fight mode to deter any potential rivals. 6 long, long months he tried to put the most distance between you two, keeping you as far away as possible, hoping it would ease his urges and cravings, only for his organisms to demand you harder, resorting to pain to force him to get closer.

6 months of him being hunted by lustful, disgusting dreams of you two together, waking him in a cold sweat, hard and shameful.

And you had to keep harassing him! In the name of your Warriordamn devotion to Thrawn you kept testing him every day. He has to hand it to you, you are dedicated.

He sees himself in you, back in his youth when he pursued lovers, the relentless chase, and the thrill of the hunt. But you have no idea of the true reason why Thrawn sent you here, to him. Would you have been a Chiss, he would have reveled in your insistence.

He tried everything to make you leave of your own will, to the subtle passive-aggressive ways to downright discrimination and hate. Anything to keep you far away. But you took it all, unflinching, dignified, keeping your head high in front of everything the Chiss threw at you.

He lowkey respects your attitude. He understands better what Thrawn saw in you and how you earned his respect and friendship. Not everyone would have held on before such treatments, he has met plenty of Chiss that would have chickened out long ago.

But you didn’t.

You remained, with your insufferable smugness and attitude, as infuriatingly spruce as ever.

And now he really has no ideas left to escape you and the temptation that you are for him.

He dreamed so much of dropping to his knees before you, kissing your hand reverently if you promised to be his and his alone, to devote yourself to him like you do with Thrawn, if you let him do what it pleased him to you...

He woke up horrified each time.

What other reaction was he supposed to have in front of such dreams?

Give in? Not a chance.

He remembers how he tried to push you out of his office the first day, your delicious smell was so overpowering he honestly thought he would pass out from his awakening urges. The last time he felt so... Alive was decades ago. He had to inhale his perfume handkerchief to limit the vertigos and baseless pulsions he felt pushing in his veins. He slammed the door once you exited his office, taking support on the wall to not fall to the ground with how he was trembling. He needed a long, icy cold shower after that.

You are no Chiss! How could you have such an effect on him?!

Did Thrawn knew?

Did he deduce that it was possible? Oh he really thinks he did Thurfian a favor, that he will be indebted to him.

But he just sent him a tormentor.

When Thrawn comes back

He comes back...

He will find Thurfian in the forefront of his detractors, ready to guide him to the pillory. He will find the exact opposite of what he tried to create.

Did he really think he would be able to come back untouched just because he sent him an alien to fuck? Thurfian remembers Thrawn having difficulties with relationships and socialisation but this is a real new low...

And to think he expects him to lower himself to you?! Him, the Patriarch of the Grand Mitth? Does he think he is desperate to find a mate? That he will accept anyone thrown his way? Even an alien?

He knew Thrawn had weird views but this one is an insult plain and simple.

He exits the shower to go down and eat breakfast with his family. Another long day ahead of him. Another load of pain waiting for him. He needs to get rid of you...

He needs to find a way. Any way.

He passes the large arches and his senses are immediately assaulted by your... obsessive scent. He swiftly takes support on the wall to not fall before the sheer power of your presence.

He REALLY needs to get rid of you, murder is still an option. It can still happen.

You are speaking with a member of the Mitth about something he does not care about. His first instance is to leave and climb back up in his suite, but that would be an admission of weakness on his part. That would be admitting you do have an effect on him, and he doesn’t intend on revealing that.

He already has enough problems like that. If Thrawn and his socially impaired character were able to deduce that you are compatible with him, then that means everyone in the Mitth Manor picked it up by now. He needs not to be a genius to know they all speak behind his back. And that’s also why he forbade you from leaving the Manor despite him trying to avoid you. He will not let the rest of the Ascendancy know one of his possible mates is a human.

Leaving the room right now would give them prove them right.

And that is not happening.

He takes his seat and takes out his questis to read today’s meeting and missions, ignoring you blatantly. He almost manages to focus and forget about everyone’s presence when he hears you laugh.

Cristallyne and melodious.

Delectable to hear.

So pleasing to his ears...

He deeply inhales to take back the upper hand but cannot help a guilty side glance in your direction.

You are radiant, smiling with a gleaming shine. You smile at another male, giving him your attention.

And that...

Infuriates him!

He mentally shakes his head, he needs to stop being so foolish but he cannot help the rising ire in his veins.

You are speaking an accentuated Cheuhn now. You made very great progress, proof of your brilliant intellect and willingness to serve him. And that accent is just soooo... Exotic and musical, just so pleasant to listen to.

He wants to listen to it for hours, he wan-

He chastises himself. He wants none of that. He is not jealous of that man. He does not dream about you every night.

This is not him.

This is his baseless urges and instincts speaking. Not his personhood.

He is way better than that. Way above that.

Way above you...

He would rather remain ‘the Mateless’ than associate with you. And prove Thrawn’s point.

This trial is far from over...

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

You silently walk in the corridors of the Manor. You don’t want to get spotted, Patriarch Thurfian would be heavily displeased if one of his guests spotted you. You just want to grab a snack anyway, you will not take long.

You listen to the music emanating behind the closed doors of the ballroom of the Mitth Manor, a very large party is taking place. You received explicit interdiction to appear, not that you wanted it anyway. You can hear the lively discussions and waves of laughter, this is a lively party. You reach the kitchens and start picking up in the dishes destined for the banquets.

A bit of this, a bit of that... You grab a fruit and head towards your room.

As you walk past one of the doors opens, letting you have a glance at the party. You have a sneaky look, only to cross gaze with Thurfian inside, looking straight back at you, frowning, ordering you to get the fuck out of here pronto. You scurry away, not wanting to get him on his nerves.

You’re not especially in the correct attire to be seen by all those guests. You are in your nightdress, ready to go to bed after your little snack, and you will really look out of place among those high-standard guests for sure.

You sigh, after a whole year here, Thrawn didn’t show up as promised. You knew it could take longer than what he told you, but you are almost a prisoner here, forbidden from leaving the manor altogether, your weapons and uniforms confiscated. They limited your contacts with Ar’alani and Ba’kif to a minimum. You had to fight tooth and nail to just have the right to own a questis.

Thurfian cannot bear to see you. He forbade you from approaching him entirely, but in every room you enter he seems to follow, only to look at you with disdain and horror and leave without a single word. You don’t know what his problem is but if he could have banished you to the other side of the Ascendancy, he would have done it.

Thank the Maker Admiral Ar’alani explained Thrawn’s plan to Supreme Admiral Ba’kif and he gave you that nice little trick with the protocols. Or it would have been a nice little trick if you could have accomplished your mission given by Thrawn, but in those conditions it is impossible.

‘Sorry my friend, I failed you for the first time’ you think bitterly.

“I told you they hide an alien!” A male voice raises behind your back.

You stop and spin on your feet to meet the disturbance of your peace. You met a group of four tall Chiss, looking at you up and down. Something in their demeanor displeases you immensely.

“And quite a looker! Look at that skin color, it looks so soft!.”

A fifth man appears behind your back, blocking the only other exit of the area.

“Where are you going like that, little one? You will need an escort, a lot of bad people roam around that kind of party.” One of them speaks casually as they all circle you.

“I thank you for your concern, good sirs. No need to bother with me, I am going away immediately.” You inform calmly, discreetly looking for an opening.

The situation is not yet dramatic, but with five men against you, you will be in severe difficulty.

“Mmmmh listen to that accent, it is absolutely lovely. Can you sing well too?” The one behind walked so close that he could grab a strand of your hair to wrap it around his finger.

You immediately slap his hand away.

“Careful man. She is feisty.” One snigger.

“I love them feisty.” He responds licking his lips, “Tell me girly, are you the pet of the house?”

“I am no one’s pet.” You growl.

The next one approaching will receive your fist in his teeth.

“A hottie like you, hidden away from the rest of the world like a secret... Someone wishes to keep you all for themself.”

You fight the desire to sigh loudly to their face.

“You are imagining things. Slow down the wine and let me pass, I need to sleep.”

“You can sleep with us if you want. We have the whole night ahead of us.” One of them grabs your hand and attempts to pull you away towards a darker room.

You throw your fist in his face, feeling something broke under your knuckles and hearing a growl of pain. The man is projected against the wall violently, under his comrades round eyes.

“You BITCH! Seize her!” He growls, his hand pressed on his bleeding nose.

They suddenly jump on you, grabbing your arms and clothes to tear them apart. You bite, claw, punch, and kick them back, giving them a hell of a hard time. But it is clear very soon that you will not win against five pissed-off opponents, not without a blade. And slowly fear settles in.

No one will hear you.

No one will save you.

No one wi-

A gunshot blasts in the air, stopping the commotion entirely.

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

He just had a bad feeling.

When he first smelled tea leaves, liquor, and honey he just felt ire in his veins, what the fuck were you doing around here? When he caught a glimpse of you between the two cracked open doors in your nightdress he felt his stomach tie itself in knots and his heart pumping faster.

He shot you with his gaze to make you get out! Away from him you devious temptress!

But when he saw this group of men leaving the ballroom right after you, he felt the ground opening under him.

He knows very well this kind of gaze they had. How many times him and his friends had to fight off creeps like them to protect their girlfriends back in the day? A lot. Too much.

Way too much.

He could not fight off the cold sweat rolling in the back of his neck when they walked past him with that deranged smile.

His hand unconsciously slid inside his inner tunic, feeling the cross of his personal Charric solidly attached in its straps. His head told him to stay in the ballroom, that aliens’ problems weren’t his.

But his heart told him that he couldn’t let such a horrifying act happen to any woman he knew, not under his own roof, not even to a pain in the neck sent by Thrawn, alien or not. His own morals couldn’t tolerate it!

And his instinct screamed at him to protect you specifically, his organism growing territorial and protective over you. You seem very well trained, and a part of him knows you are deadly with a weapon.

But he confiscated each and everyone of your weapons and sealed them away.

He even confiscated what you called a comlink. You will have no means to call for help. No one will hear your screams.

He put you in this situation!

And as that thought strikes his brain he realizes that he is furtively following the group of young men, his charric in hand. He doesn't see or hear them. He only has to follow your delicious scent..

He reaches a door and hears a moan of pain. A woman’s voice.

Your voice.

He sees red, all rational thoughts leaving his head. He kicks the door open and shoot a random mirror, dangerous glass shards exploding across the room.

They all stop.

You’re on the ground, nightdress torn apart, face bloody, limbs pinned to the ground with one of the creeps lying on top of you.

Your abusers turn toward him, their ears still ringing from the loud sound.

“Get off her.” He orders coldly.

“Patriarch Thurfian, what are yo-” Thurfian doesn’t let him finish and fires at the foot of the one speaking up, making him scream a pitiful wail of pain.

“Get.Off.Her. Or I shoot you down like dogs.” Thufian very calmly, very slowly, but very menacingly repeats.

He is dead serious he realizes. He has no idea who they are, they very well might be sons of important syndics or magnates, but he knows that if they don’t obey he will shoot them dead without any second thoughts about any of the consequences.

His gaze falls on you. You are in terrible shape and visibly terrified. His heart bleeds at such a sight...

He treated you terribly for an entire year to push you to the door and you took it with grace and determination, unsinkable. He never thought he would see such an expression on your face ever.

This fear in your human eyes is absolutely odious. He wants to get rid of it immediately.

Your attackers let you go reluctantly while the fifth is crying on the floor, holding his wounded foot. The one laying his disgusting body on top of you groans as he gets up, displeased that his fun is now ruined.

Do those types of men know no decency? No sympathy? No respect?

“Protecting your candy, heh?” The one on top of you chuckles, looking at him.

“What?” Thurfian snarls, heading the canon of his charric towards the chest of the impertinent.

“I smelled it on her.” He licks his teeth. Absolutely revolting, “What would the other Patriarchs say if they knew about her, I wonder?”

And suddenly, Thurfian’s anger subsides. His boiling blood turns into icy cold water in his veins and his mind gets clearer. His trembling hand shaking with fury steadies perfectly and he simply presses the trigger. The revolting man gets thrown back, hit in the chest. His friends jump and shout in surprise, incredulous that he dared fire his fellow Chiss over an alien.

Thurfian takes his comm out to ring his bodyguards as they look at their unconscious friend lying on the ground in a pathetic position.

In an instant, Chiss in uniforms enter the little salon, handcuff your attackers, and call an ambulance for the trash that got shot. Thurfian walks to the table. During the commotion you crawled in a corner of the room to put as much distance as possible between you and your assaulters.

You are trembling, knees pressed against your chest, your human skin soiled by your blood, almost naked in the cold room. He gets on one knee and detaches his Patriarch coat to pass it around your shoulder.

You shudder as his hand inadvertently brushes your shoulder. Look at you, terrified and lost.

And that is his fault. Only his fault.

Without a single word, he seizes your body and lifts you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise, looking at him with questions in your... gorgeous eyes. He carries you out of that room, without a single word for Thivick that just arrived.

Your scent reaches Thurfian nose again, and for the first time since you arrived in his manor, he indulges. He deeply inhales those delicate and harmonious notes.

His heart jumps in his chest as he feels you pressing yourself against him, huddling your wounded body against his, laying your head on his shoulder.

He should feel indignant. Revolted. Absolutely revulsed!

But the proximity feels comforting, it feels right. Like it was meant to be all along.

Did the Warrior himself placed you on his way? Did he remained mateless all of this time because he was waiting for you?

He doesn’t know. And frankly, he doesn’t care. Having you in his arms feels like the only good thing that happened to him in a long, long time.

He has a lot of explaining to do. But first, dressing your wounds.

He enters the infirmary and lays you in one of the beds. The medic stands up to start the treatment but Thurfian simply pulls the curtain, isolating both of you from the rest of the world. He washes his hands and washes your face delicately with a wet cloth.

You wince in pain, you received several blows that tore the skin apart in several places, and bruises of a variety of colors are already flourishing on your human skin.

“I am terribly sorry, (Y/n).” He simply says.

What else can he say after such an aggression? What words could comfort a victim?

“They will be brought on trial. They would not go unpunished.” He assures you.

You sniff with disdain, not believing his promise for a second.

“You all say that each time that it happens, but nothing gets done.”

“You have my word. With the testimony of a Patriarch, they will not be able to escape justice.” He tries.

You huff again, pushing his hand away.

“Why would you even do that? You made it very clear I was not welcomed anywhere in the Chiss Ascendancy, especially in your presence. Why shoot one of you for a ‘mere human’?”

He can feel the pain in your voice, how it twitches your features, how you gulp with difficulties.

‘Because I am physically incapable of seeing you suffer.’ are the first words popping into his mind and he almost says them out loud before biting his tongue.

But this is the truth. The fear he felt when he saw you in danger, the urge to tear those men’s eyes out of their sockets for just breathing weirdly in your direction, the absolute desperation when he saw your eyes widen in horror and fear.

He had to fight his attraction and desires towards you the entire year for him to shoot a man down at your first trouble. He hid behind the pretension that it was only his instinct getting desperate to not find a proper mate that they were desperate to settle with anyone, even a lowly alien.

But seeing you in this state makes him feel so guilty. He could have made your stay pleasant, welcomed you properly, and shown you the wonders of Chiss culture. But he locked you inside the Manor and limited your contacts with the outside world out of fear.

That they would know that you were made for him.

He could have made it easy for everyone and even facilitated future diplomatic relationships with humans like you proposed when you arrived.

But no. He had to act like a child and now look at the results...

“Because it is my job to protect guests under the Mitth roof.” He answers, muzzling the truth. “I will make sure it will not happen again.”

“I do not believe you.”

“I shot a man for you tonight.”

You turn your head away from his red gaze. He feels the urge to dive in the crook of your neck and kiss it, his body wants to hug you close and make sure you are safe.

But maybe...

This isn’t just his body speaking.

Maybe it is simply him too...

He wants to kiss your lips and swallow your pain and fear for you to only know peace and serenity in his arms.

He won’t, obviously. You are in shock, now is not the time for romantic advances.

“You could have just sent me back to Thrawn... You did not want me here anyway, why not allow me to go back to him?” You ask, fighting back sobs.

Now that things are settling down your body needs to evacuate the tension and stress of the aggression.

So you start crying.

Stabbing his heart deep.

‘Because I couldn’t let you go...’ He thinks with a sigh, realizing it as the thought crosses his mind.

He disinfects and dresses your wounds in silence, letting you cry to your heart’s content before sitting down and taking your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Things will change from now on. I will give you back your weapons and uniforms, I will let you explore Csilla as you wish, and I will arrange a rendezvous with Ba’kif and Ar’alani. If you wish to go back to Thrawn, I will set you free...”

His hearts bleed at those words because he knows he wants the exact opposite as he is proposing it to you.

“But if you wish to remain and finish your mission, I would appreciate sharing a cup of tea with you, one day at your convenience. I want to know you better...”

And a little more he hopes.

Maybe one day you’ll forgive him.

Maybe one day you will hold his hands and call him yours.

He will wait, as long as it takes...

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

#thurfian x reader #thurfian #mitth'urf'ianico #thrawn #thrawn ascendancy #fanfic #vibratingskull

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vibratingskull · 2 months

Note

Are you still writing for Thurfian?? I love him but besides your amazing fanfics there is nothing here😭😭

I’m starving, I’ll take any trope or prompt😭🩷

Dude!!!! I fricking LOVE Thurfian, I try to convert people to the Thurfian church all the time !!!

art by wonderful @thrawns-backrest

Part 1

ThurfianxF!reader

Tags : Masked ball, pregnancy talk, breeding kink, cunni, P in V, creampie

You turn and twirl, humming a tune in your bedroom, your gorgeous dress pressed against your body to observe it in the mirror. Tonight there is a ball at the Mitth’s hotel particulier.

A masked ball.

You're quite excited.

You lay your red and golden dress down on your bed and open your drawer to pass your collection of lipstick in review.

You have a ton.

All presents from the same person. The same one who selected your dress.

You pick a tube, review the color and choose another one.

More bold, more flashy, more… insolent!

A delectable shade of deep, eye-catching red that compliments your skin tone deliciously. You almost only have reds.

It is the Mitth color with gold and he wouldn’t want you to wear anything else. You apply the pigment and you smack your lips in a sounding ‘pop’. This shade is so gorgeous. Especially on you.

Will he compliment you for it tonight?

Knowing him he would probably decide to ignore you completely, to not reveal your secret.

You take your most costly perfume and put it on your neck and behind your ears. You love those hints of tangerine and spices. It is way too expensive for your small paycheck, but not for him. He bought you this one and numerous others.

He loves to cover his babies with presents. You are no exception, even if he favors less ostentatious presents for you. He may have the liberty to collect Chiss lovers but you…

You are only a human.

An alien.

His standing would take such a stab if your scandalous affair was uncovered to the public's eyes. And you would lie if you said you were unbothered by it. You understand his reasons to remain hidden on a factual level and for some time you even loved it, finding it exciting and enthralling! All this secrecy, the scandal and debauchery!

But lately you just feel tired by all that.

Your smile dies down in your mirror.

Sometimes you would like for him to put his foot down and admit seeing you. You’re not asking him to renounce all his other lovers… Just to accept seeing you openly.

You’re not in your teen years anymore, dating around is not as fun as it used to be. You would just like to settle, with or without someone.

Sometimes you would like to stop everything, coming to him and putting an end to all of it.

He would probably let you go without a fuss, and you would be left with the memories and the presents.

He doesn’t really have a choice in the matter but you know he would never be cruel to the point of throwing you out of the manor and firing you out of your job as an assistant. You are and remain a Mitth responsibility, whether it pleases him or not, it is his duty to manage you and keep you under surveillance.

Your hand holding your lipstick falls down on your vanity. Suddenly, tonight’s soiree isn’t as appealing anymore.

But you had hopes for a time… the last time you spent time together he promised to take care of you if you ended up pregnant. You thought you would be closer after that, but he proceeded to ignore you for weeks on end after that.

You sigh. You make the lipstick turn between your fingers.

What is it even for?

Marking you as his, and he doesn’t have to take any of the responsibilities towards you at all.

Just reveling in the fun you represent.

You sigh again.

You pretty much signed up for it!

But tonight… You don’t want to play the game. You don’t want to play the docile pet.

You take a towel and wipe the red off your lips, you stand up and tidy the golden and red dress back in your closet. You take out a blue and green dress, less lavish and decadent, more cheap. But it’s a dress you paid for yourself, with your own money.

Yes…

You deserve to appear as yourself and on your own terms.

You pick up a peach shade of lipstick and as you go to apply it, its scent reaches your nose and the mix with your perfume makes you gag. You press your hand against your mouth as you feel the sickness rising. You run and have just the time to open your toilet to vomit. Spasms contract your entire body violently.

Ugh…

That was weird…

You wipe your mouth clean, seating down the toilet as sweat rolls on your temples. You spread toothpaste on your toothbrush and start brushing your teeth, getting rid of that rancid taste. Your eyes wander around until ending up on your calendar pinned to the wall.

The date for your period's beginning has passed by more than two weeks…

They have always been irregular, but…

Are you… pregnant?

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

You enter the ballroom with a Wow. With dim lights the room is dark but not in a threatening way, but as a way to keep the secrets of the identities hidden behind the masks. Long and heavy deep green curtains drape the windows and draw a crown of velvet fabric around a large chandelier on the ceiling. The tall windows give way to balconies and let the light of the false moon and stars shine. You watch your steps on this waxed parquet floor, especially on your heels. The golden moldings reflect the feeble lights as the adorned mirrors mounted on the walls.

All around you Chiss have attired themself with expensive fabrics and jewelry, with masks with encrusted gemstones and delicate painting details. Some wore a traditional robe while others chose designer clothes, clashing with your simple dress.

For a second you regret not choosing the decadent red and golden dress, afraid of appearing out of place and… unworthy. But you immediately relax when you see a group of young adults with cheaper clothes discussing together.

That's right, the Mitth may be a rich ruling family but which Merit Adoptive can access the luxury of a blood? Every social standing is represented under this roof, tied by their family name.

Except for you.

You are not Mitth.

Not even Merit Adoptive.

When the Ascendancy decided to give you to the Mitth after Senior Captain Thrawn found you, he refused to give you a place, even a temporary one.

So you are still (Y/n)(F/n)...

Or rather (Y/n)’(F/n), as they pronounce it.

The human.

The alien.

The stray cat.

You breathe deeply and check that your domino mask is secured. Not that it hides your identity at all, your skin color reveals immediately who you are. You do not share their beautiful deep blue shade and can be identified with a single glance.

It's okay.

You step in the ballroom, moving aimlessly among the groups, trying to guess who is who, letting the voices guide you.

The music is pleasant, if not subtle, barely covering the whispers in your trails.

You don't miss how the groups suddenly close off when you walk past them, how they lower their voices and their carmine gaze follow you, burning the back of your neck.

It's okay…

Just keep the mask of the detached overconfident woman and everything will be alright… You breath and straighten your back, raising your head high and conducting yourself haughtily.

You forcefully enter a circle where you identified some colleagues, laughing loudly and speaking assuredly, faking assurance like you've done until now. You swing your hips, hand on your waist you speak with confidence.

Even if it's fake.

But you're good at it!

They humor you in a conversation but you know, in their eyes you're the stray cat they can come to for a little bit of exoticism and a good lay.

The alien with depraved mores.

They look at you with a mix of disgust, curiosity and hunger. How you are almost Chiss-like, almost… So close to their standards but not enough at the same time.

It makes you shiver internally. But you fuck with them by always displaying the love bites you gain at night, proving that all honorable and superior they can be they still succomb to the poor little human as much as you do for them.

It tends to shut their mouth crap quickly.

You speak brashly, putting on airs and graces. They respond with honey in their voices, chuckling at the audacity of the alien.

How dare you be so confident for a lowly human?

You just sniff at those attitudes.

After a moment you have enough of the backhanded compliments and sly remarks hidden behind a polite smile, you step away to the buffet searching for a drink or a canape to nibble on.

That's when he decides to make his entrance. You would recognize him anywhere and under any mask. You observed him from far away so many times, you know his gait and his way of carrying himself so well.

Thurfian.

Obviously, Patriarch obliges, he appears in a long traditional robe with several layers of fabrics and tissue. Red and golden, of course. You do not need to get close to guess the intricate embroideries stitched in the pricey clothes, the expensive gems sewn in the fabric, the buttons and chains of rare metals…

They care so much about their crafts after all.

His mask is elegant, less tacky than some, more tasteful. But you can guess the price he paid to have it done. Adorned with iridescent feathers and simple drops of gold, the mask compliments his regal features wonderfully.

He looks so handsome, even from far away…

Untouchable.

Cold.

Unreachable…

You sigh and turn back to the buffet. You notice a cheese canapé that looks absolutely delicious and go to take it but your hand hits another quite large hand that was heading for the same delicacy.

“I’m sorry.” You present your excuses, raising your head to the owner of the hand and gasping.

“(Y/n)’(F/n)?” Mitth’raw’nuruodo asks, sounding almost surprised.

His domino mask covers the higher half of his face but this voice and stature is unmistakable. Only Thrawn is this tall and buff.

Not to your distaste, not at all.

The Senior Captain Thrawn is usually always on the roads of the Chaos, flushing out threats against the Ascendancy before they get too big. You rarely see him at the manor as he usually prefers his city apartment to the political traps that are Chiss houses.

“When did you come back, Senior Captain?” You inquire joyfully.

You are not quite friends but Thrawn was by far the most welcoming of all the Chiss you came to meet, his curiosity and thirst for knowledge pushing him to keep your relationship cordial and pleasant for you to continue to teach him about your region. You once spent an entire evening explaining to him the significance of the clothes you carried in your luggage when he found you half dead on your destroyed, drifting ship. He listened intently, taking close looks to your dresses and robes, the embroideries and laces, the ribbons and colors choices. He took interest in the family heirlooms you brought with you, your jewelry and your silly watercolors doodles and sketches.

What did he see in all of that? Beat you.

But he was really interested and thanked you for all the information you gave him during those evenings and you jokingly responded that you would draw his portrait for him to keep studying you under every angle and very, very closely.

He clearly didn’t catch your innuendo. He seems to have a thick skull for those things.

Which amuses you tremendously, so you started flirting with him each time you met him and he kept not understanding, making you laugh a lot in response.

In some aspects this is truly adorable.

“We arrived a week ago.” He informs you, “I was at my apartment, planning some strategies.”

You also suspect he appreciates your company specifically because as a nobody alien under Mitth surveillance you have no political leverage against him. You picked upon how bad at politics he is and your lack of power in this field must be… reassuring to him.

He doesn’t give you any details about his missions for all that, and you don’t try to know more.

Frankly you are not interested in military matters and Thrawn appears competent enough to protect the Ascendancy so you decided to blindly trust him in this domain.

“What type of art did you use this time?” You smile broadly, ready for the sea of information he will release upon you once he starts speaking about art.

This is his special interest and being curious about it proved to be a good way to gain points in his book.

“I used wood statuettes carved during the eight period of the…” And here he goes.

You sip on a drink while he explains in lavish details his study of the statuettes, explaining any minute clues in long sentences, getting lost in his enthusiasm even if it only reaches his sparkling eyes and not the rest of his face.

“You are so cultivated, Senior Captain Thrawn, when do you find time to study so much during your missions?” You manage to slip between two phrases.

“I sleep very little.” He explains, “And it is an integral part of my strategy, the safest way for me to build my tactics.”

“Could you teach me one day?” You take a step further to get closer to his large, tall body.

Maker, he is so tall… That does something to you.

You smirk in your mind, the misfit of the Mitth and the stray cat…That does sound nice to you.

“I am afraid this is outside of my field of competence.” He shakes his head with a subtle sorry tone, “I cannot properly put into words how I understand other species' ways with art, I just… know it when I observe their arts.”

“Too bad.” You falsely sigh, “Could you at least try? I am a very, very good student and I need to be able to detect traps in my line of work.” You roll your ‘r’ like a purring that they do so well.

You take another step, almost pressing yourself against him. He remains still, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I am afraid it is not possible.” He assures, “But I can propose to you to teach you art history of the different Chaos’ regions?”

You just want an excuse to spend time with him, art history is as good as anything else.

“I would be delighted, Senior Captain Thrawn.” You exclaim joyfully but with a sultry, alluring tone.

You really appreciate Thrawn. He is a refined gentleman, polite and cultivated, never a bad word soiling his mouth, with a deep, melodious and… exciting voice.

And he is not ugly to look at, far from that! His features are elegant and royal, his carmine gaze highly intelligent and inquisitive.

Making your legs like jello.

He is quite different from Thurfian in so many ways. More friendly once you get to know him, more open minded and ready to extend his hand to aliens, proved that they have no ill intents towards the Ascendancy of course.

You chuckle as you remember yourself threatening Thurfian to go see Thrawn if he didn’t spend time with you. It was far from an empty threat. Thrawn was always to your taste.

You imagine yourself well in the arms of such an elegant man.

And if he refuses…Then you will just spend the rest of your day in a little room with a crowd of native Csilla cats, that sounds nice too.

“But tell me rather, Senior Captain. I would have never imagined you playing along in a masked ball! Did you receive orders of some kind?” You smirk playfully at him.

You have a hard time imagining Thurfian ordering Thrawn to come home.

“I am accompanying someone from my crew, she was really interested in this soiree and insisted it would be good for me.”

Crap, he has a partner.

“Oh really?” You swing your hips, “Where is your lady right now?” You ask innocently.

“She left me to salute some people.” He explains.

You gauge him intently and smirk.

“Your partner abandoned you and you rushed to the buffet to avoid people, am I right?”

“I… Yes.” He admits, “I do not navigate political situations well. She was supposed to be my mediator with Syndics tonight and helps with my current image with politicians. But-”

“But she left you and you panicked.” You nod understandingly.

“I tactically retreated.” He corrects politely. “But you have the scene right. I, regretfully, cannot do any good on my own in this field.”

You pass your arms around his, pressing yourself against him. He is really warm, really pleasant to the touch.

“Well, I have no political leverage myself but I met some high syndics for my job as assistant. I can present you to some big guys, be polite and charming as you do so well and everything will be alright!”

And without waiting for his response you drag him into the crowd of masked Chiss, researching some politicians with whom you could smooth out Thrawn’s image.

You spend an hour and a half pulling him from person to person, engaging the conversation with top hats of the family insolently, not hesitating to impose yourself in the groups. Thrawn remained set back, but polite.

If you didn’t know him you would say he was intimidated. But you know better, he just takes care to not slip off.

You, you have your fun. You laugh and clink your drink with other glasses, presenting yourself and the Senior Captain with an impudent confidence. You try to get Thrawn to start on art or military strategies, a field where he is comfortable, trying to offer a nicer portrait of him to politicians.

And a nicer one of yours.

To you it is quite amusing.

Even if you feel a flaming gaze burning the back of your head during all this time.

Thrawn’s partner joined you rapidly after you started your political campaign, a certain Mitth’ali’astov. She was terribly sorry to have left Thrawn alone in this nest of nighthunters and presented you with her excuses, and thanks for taking care of him while she stepped away.

She didn’t seem to mind your humanness that much, all things considered.

You raise your head when you hear the music pick up. You grab Thrawn’s arm and head towards the dance floor.

“You owe me a dance, Senior Captain!”

He follows you without a fuss but with a light chuckle.

“Really?”

“I spent my whole soiree polishing your portrait to all of those stuck up Syndics while I could have danced and drank until I fell on the ground!”

“You seemed to amuse yourself quite a lot on the contrary.” He counters, vaguely entertained.

“Just dance with me!”

He takes you in his arms and starts valsing with you.

He is… not a good dancer, you realize. He has difficulties following the music and offering you a good pace. But you don’t care, it makes you laugh. To be surrounded by such false masks of politeness and flattery and meet such genuine mistakes is refreshing and relaxing.

It makes the atmosphere less oppressive that a man like Thrawn can have difficulties doing something.

“You seem terribly amused once again.” He notes.

“You’re such a terrible dancer, Senior Captain.” You snark.

“I am sorry. Music and dance are not my forte.”

“It is quite good!” You reassure him, “It’s reassuring to know you encounter difficulties too!” You joke.

“You are welcome?” He responds puzzled.

You dance together, threatening to bump into other couples but Thrawn evades everyone with more or less grace. You let yourself be carried by his lead, even if he isn’t good at it, smiling and laughing to your heart's content.

A new sensation of sickness rises and you shiver inadvertently.

“Are you alright? Do you wish to stop?” Thrawn immediately proposes.

“No… No, it’s nothing.” You smile, trembling a bit.

“Do you want some fresh air?”

He is quite attentionate and observant of your well being.

You feel safe and at peace with him. You envision yourself well with him. You would make a cute couple, the misfit and the alien.

“No, everything is fine.”

You pass your hand behind his neck and pull him down and you audaciously kiss his cheek. The burning sensation at the back of your neck gets worse.

“But I thank you for the worry.” You murmur in Thrawn’s ear.

You have no idea how he will react. He has been so blind to any and all of your advances, you are about to discover it for yourself.

He seems to freeze under your lips, but he remains silent, simply straightening his back again. He looks at you intently, his rubies gauging your very soul.

You do not flinch or back down, looking straight in his shining red eyes without any fear or shame and offer him a bright smile in return. His shoulders seem to relax slightly.

“A problem?” You innocently ask.

“No.” He responds and makes you twirl on the dance floor.

He reacted better than expected! You almost thought he would push away for trespassing his boundaries but he seems almost… pleased?

You’re probably imagining things.

As you swirl with him, you catch a glance of Thurfian in the ballroom.

He is fixated on you, not minding the syndics talking to you. His lips thin as a line are a testament of his sentiments right now.

You turn your head away and focus on Thrawn, smiling blissfully to the handsome man. He offers you a light loopsided smile in return, making your twirl and making your head turn in more ways than one.

You giggle and press yourself against the Senior Captain under the pretense to help him lead the dance, if he finds it uncomfortable or too forward you trust he will push you back.

He doesn’t stop you and assures a tighter grip on your back.

The dance regrettably comes to an end but Thrawn doesn’t release you, on the contrary he seems to press you tighter against his muscular body.

“Maybe… You could teach me how to dance properly.” He starts, “Maybe we-”

“It is good etiquette to switch partners at the end of a dance.” A regal voice resonates behind your back.

You spin to meet Thurfian, observing the both of you with a seemingly pissed off expression. But his face is pretty well hidden under his intricate mask.

“You are right, my apologies.” Thrawn admits.

You look at him. Did he recognize his Venerante? He lets you go but takes your hand to gently kiss your knuckles.

“I wish you a delightful soiree, (Y/n)’(F/n).”

You respectfully bow your head to him.

“I wish you the same, Senior Captain.”

And he leaves you.

You do not dare to turn to Thurfian, feeling the flames of his eyes on your neck, absolutely burning your skin.

“Will you turn to me?” He demands.

You bite your lower lips and spin slowly.

He is not pleased, at all…

You bow to him, deeper this time.

“Your Venerante.” You say with the most assured voice you can muster.

He grabs your hands and presses you against him hard, starting the next dance.

He is a well finer dancer than Thrawn would possibly ever be, leading you with grace and elegance, meeting your steps with ease and installing a better pace.

“Are you having fun?” He asks harshly.

He is smaller than Thrawn, but still taller than the average Chiss man and, mostly, human man. He towers over you, gauging you up and down with his scorching gaze. This close his beauty is simply undeniable, making your stomach twist in knots like he can do so well.

“Yes, your Venerante. It is truly a very enthralling ball.” You try to mediate the situation.

His grips tighten almost painfully on your hand and back, making you wince.

“Stop playing with me. What were you doing with him among everyone else?” He bites, making you twirl and turn expertly. “Where is your dress? I chose a red and golden dress specifically for you to honor the Mitth.”

You suddenly feel pissed off to be ordered around like a dog in work and in your private life.

“Well it is part of my elaborate plan to protect your reputation, of course!” You sarcastically bite back, “Everyone but him knows you cannot bear his presence, what better cover but him to hide our little affair?”

You hear him growl under the music.

“What!? Why are you not pleased? You are never pleased with whatever I do!” You press. “Who could imagine the Oh so Great Mitth Patriarch seeing the filfthy human behind everyone’s back if she flirts with the weirdo of the family!?” You bare your teeth to him.

“You play a very dangerous game, (Y/n).’’ He warns with an icy cold voice.

“I’m fed up with your own game!” Your tone is acidic even if your voice is low to not get caught, “I’m always supposed to be at your disposal but you’re never here for me! You offer me presents to buy my silence when you know very well I want your presence more than anything else! You ignore me when we cross paths, not even a polite greeting because you’re just… scared to acknowledge me!”

“Mind your tone, human.”

“You’re just terrified to get caught! You want your cake and eat it too! You parade yourself with all those Chiss women but come back running to me when the flashes of the journalists stopped!” You know you should shut up but you cannot stop anymore.

“Silence!” He warns again.

“That would be terrible for you, right?! If the mighty Mitth Patriarch would be revealed seeing the alien under house arrest! Did you stop once and wondered how I felt to be enjoyed and then tossed aside like a disgrace until you get hungry for me again?! You take advantage of me and then stifle me into silence to not damage your reputation! You buy me clothes for the Mitth’s glory without wondering if it fits my taste or comfort! You come and take and leave me alone, knowing I have no support here.”

“You have the entire Mitth family as support.” He counters with a sharp tone.

“Everyone avoids me! Everyone ignore me! Hell, everyone hates me! This is precisely why I came to you in the first place, I needed guidance and help and you served yourself! The only one I had a remotely good relationship with is a Senior Captain you are way too happy to send away from the Manor! Are you doing it on purpose to isolate me or what?!”

“You give yourself too much importance. You do not enter my plans like that.” He snarls with disdain.

“Fine!” And you pull yourself off his arms.“Then leave me in peace!”

You turn your back to him and walk away.

You kept your tone low all the time and nobody heard anything, only wondering why one of the couples on the dancefloor stopped dancing. You walk away when suddenly all the lights flickers and a black out occurs. A complain from the guests rises as you’re suddenly in a horror holo, surrounded by disembodied red eyes all around you.

You suddenly feel a strong hand gripping your arm and you yelp as you get dragged outside the ballroom by a secret door hidden behind one of the heavy green curtains.

You groan and growl, trying to escape Thurfian’s grips but he has so much strength. The more you struggle the more his grip tightens, digging his nails in the soft flesh of your arm. You wince and snarl, pulling to get away but he drags you across the corridor until you reach a new door you’re being pushed inside a barely lighted bedroom.

You almost trip up on your feet as he pushes you and closes the door. You swiftly turn towards him, absolutely out of yourself, but before you can say anything Thurfian is on you, kissing you harshly, gripping your chin in his fist.

“I never had the responsibilities of such an unruly and ungrateful woman.” He growls, “You are driving me mad, human.”

He keeps kissing you in a demanding embrace but you slap him across the face, sending his expensive mask flying across the room.

He looks at you stunted with a gasp, his hand raising to touch his cheek, not believing you dared raise your hand against his person.

On your hand you are so distressed you start trembling, a sob rising in your throat until you break under his gaze.

“Why?” You start crying, “Why do you never listen to me?” You hide your face in your hands with ugly sobs, “Why can’t we just talk for once? Just once… I am not asking for much…”

He remains silent, stupefied by your action. You see a trail of blood flourishing on his blue cheek where your nails scratched his skin and drops of blood start rolling on his delicate flesh.

“I just want a simple date, anything where we don’t need to hide… Something simple. I just don’t want you to see me as a dishonor…” You gasp, trying to breathe, “Am I such a shame to you? Do you hate me so much?” You sniff with big tears rolling on your own cheeks.

He observes his blood rolling on his fingers, mouth slightly agape. His blood must have rarely been drawn during his life, he is not used to seeing it. He turns his gaze to you, eyes wide open in shock.

Your stomach contracts as a new wave of sickness washes over you and you press your hand against your mouth, taking support on the wall. You feel a cold sweat rising up your spine.

Thurfian seems to calculate his errors and extends his hand tentatively to you but you slap it away.

“Don’t touch me!” You shout. “Don’t…”

Your hand comes caressing your stomach.

What if you are pregnant then?

What now?

What will become of you?

What will he say?

He would surely ask you to abort immediately. He surely could never bear his precious Mitth blood to mix up with alien genes.

But that could be your only chance to have a baby of your own.

No Chiss wants to enter a serious relationship with you, why would they? You’re just good enough for one night and a little taste of exoticism. The only one who would is Thrawn, but even he is untouchable, never taking a hint.

Thurfian kept you as a pet for his private collection, nothing more… You will never be more than the stray cat of the family.

You broke down even more, kneeling down in your pain, holding your stomach to protect your baby.

Blinded by your tears you hear the door shut and steps walking away.

Thurfian left you.

He must finally be fed up with you and your antics

And now you are alone.

Definitively alone…

You raise your head, surprised, as you hear steps coming back.

He didn't leave, he entered the adjacent bathroom and came back with a wet towel that he presses on your neck gently. You look up to him, not understanding anything.

He wrinkles his nose.

“Did you expect me to leave when a woman is in clear distress?” He asks like his honor was at risk.

You gasp and try to get back control over your erratic breath between your tears. He pulls on the strings of your mask and lets it fall on your lap, revealing your face fully to his eyes.

“Can you stand?” He asks a little harshly, but… less than all your previous interaction.

You nod, sniffing. He places his hand under your armpit and helps you to the bed for you to sit. You sit down, still shuddering and hugging yourself, he sits next to you and pat your face with the fresh, wet towel delicately.

“You are impossible.” He sneers.

You shudder again, too thin skinned right now to take the beating.

His action contradicts his mean words, leaving you lost and disoriented. You release your breath as he gently wipes your forehead.

“Now, let’s talk.” He says, a tad nicer but cold, “You had grievances I came to understand.”

You roll your hands into fists, pinching the skin of your arm. Why must everything be so cold and sterile with him? Why is everything deadly serious? Why can’t he smile your way?

You lower your head.

“I just want… You to be more present. To be here for me…”

“Aren’t I present enough? I have little time for hobbies and a lot of other people to meet.” He retorts.

You take the hit, burying yourself deeper in your pain. He prefers seeing his other babies than giving you more time.

“I just want you… To be proud to have me at your arm…” You continue with a shaken voice.

“You know we can’t appear publicly together. I am not ashamed of you but I have an image to maintain.” He keeps rebuffing.

You nod, destroyed.

“I know… I am not good enough for the Chiss, even less a Patriarch.” You murmur.

“Such simplification. You know the political repercussions if the head of a family chooses an alien instead of a Chiss as a partner. The ramifications between families would be so shaken it could lead to a diplomatic disaster.”

That’s all it is about with them, yeah?

Politics, diplomacy… Fruitful relationships between families.

No place for little you here.

And it stabs your heart. You fantasized about your life with Thurfian so many times, waking up with him in the same bed, enjoying breakfast together, preparing his clothes and helping him braid his long hair for the day… A simple domestic life.

But it’s no use now, heh?

“I understand…” You give in.

“If this isn’t to your taste, then… “ He remains mute for a second, “Maybe we should stop here.”

The blade pierces your heart, slashing it open and letting it gush blood. You dare not meet his piercing gaze but feel it on your profile.

You gulp, nails deep into your tender flesh.

You open your mouth to say something but a new wave of sickness comes and seizes you and you shudder again.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” He asks.

You shake your head.

It will pass.

Everything does.

“Did you eat something bad?” He investigates with his authoritative tone.

If only he knew…

“No…” You manage to say between your sickness, “No I…. I…”

He looks at you impatiently but remains silent, letting you speak at your own pace.

You gulp and breathe through your nose to gather strength.

“I think… I am pregnant.” You manage to push the words past your lips.

You curl up over yourself, ready to get blasted by a storm.

“My, my. My congratulations, who did you manage to entrap?”

Your eyes open wide.

What?

You turn to him, at loss for words. He’s looking at you with his signature haughty look, lasciviously resting his head on his hand, his elbow on the bed table.

“Etiquette wants the Patriarch to send a bouquet to the couple, as a thanks to make the family grow.” He keeps going, “Did you warn him yet?”

You open your mouth agape. You don't know how to respond to that.

“No I… Thurfian, I think they are yours…”

He looks you up and down, ostensibly gauging you before he cracks up a carefully crafted smile.

“Of course they’re mine, with all the men you must see behind my back they are obviously mine.”

You feel ire spreading in your veins. You never trapt anyone! This isn’t your style, you do not even see as many men as you used to, especially after starting to see Thurfian. You understood rapidly he was quite jealous and even if he never explicitly forbade you from seeing someone else you could feel his disapprobation in his tone and burning gaze. You open your mouth to clap back and another sickness wave silences you immediately. You moan with dizziness.

“Is a child even compatible with your lifestyle?” He thinks out loud, holding his chin between his fingers, “I can find you an abortion clinic if you want.”

You feel struck by lightning and the wound of your heart grows larger. You cannot even have this baby? Will he take everything from you?

“Thurfian…” You plead, “I-I beg of you… do not make me do that…” you manage to say weakly.

He tilts his head in response.

“I am not forcing you to do anything. This baby is not my problem. If you wish to keep it, do it.”

How does he know a clinic name by head so quickly? How many abortion did he ordered already?

“The father may have a different opinion.” He finishes.

“Please listen to me.” You continue, “I am not trying to set a trap for you… This is your baby. The dates correspond, you’re the only man I saw... in a very long time. I beg of you to trust me.”

He sideglances you with a snarl.

“When did your periods stop?” He groans at the end of his patience.

“More than 4 weeks ago.”

His nostrils flare but you see in his gaze the shadow of a doubt flashing. He remembers the steamy evening you spent together 4 weeks ago. And he distinctly remembers the lack of protection. You see him calculating all the possibilities at light speed before turning his head to you, looking at you intently.

“You are lying to me.” He decides.

You groan, pissed off among the dizzy feelings.

“When was the last time I lied to you?” You demand, “Did I ever lie to you once?”

You see him wince for a split second. You pride yourself in your honesty, no matter the problems it might bring you and he knows that.

“Never.” He admits reluctantly, “This is one of your qualities.”

You grab his sleeve, looking into his carmine eyes.

“Thurfian.” You say incredibly seriously, “I am not lying. This is your baby. Everything checks out.”

You see him wanting to say something back, shutting you down definitely and coming on top.

But he finds nothing, and slowly, the realization of his error grows in his mind. He turns away, surely regretting his actions now, regretting seeing you ever.

He is in a dead end.

‘How the mighty fall’ you silently think.

He suddenly turns to you furiously.

“I saw you drink!” He bites, “Did you have the audacity to drink alcohol with my legacy in your womb?”

You're so taken aback by his reaction you can only offer a toneless response.

“No… It was simple juice…” You defend yourself.

He stands up and paces back and forth the bedroom, his hands clasped behind his back and eyebrows frowned, deeply thinking.

How to get out of this with his honor intact?

The alien is potentially pregnant with a Mitth. Worse! With him.

You look at him walking aimlessly in the room, your dizziness subsiding gradually and letting you breathe more easily.

He suddenly stops and flips to you.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod.

He seizes your hand and forces you on your feet and drags you outside in the corridor. You follow, not understanding a thing. He pulls you around many corridors where nobody crosses your path.

He chooses his way with application.

You finally reach a backdoor letting on the backside garden of the hotel, he keep going trough the verdurous nature carefully crafted by the gardeners until you arrive at the parking and he pushes you inside a limousine. His limousine you figure. With a sharp sentence he orders the driver to start and find a pharmacy, pronto!

You cower on your seat, feeling Thurfian boiling in silence on the seat next to you. He remains silent, eyes fixed straight ahead, his mind racing. You only give him discrete side glances, like he would explode to your face if he realized you were looking at him.

Rapidly the lights of Csaplar wrap around the expensive car and you speed in the streets of the Capital City of the Chiss. You lay your forehead against the window, observing all of those Chiss, each with their joys and misfortunes.

Would they sympathize with you despite your alieness? Would they see the distraught future mother in you or just the ‘other’.

“Stop here.” Thurfian orders suddenly. “(Y/n) you remain inside!”

You nod obediently to not get even more on his bad side.

As he enters the pharmacy in his regalia and bloody face you caress your stomach. Trying to find signs of life in your womb. Your hand remains over the place your baby would grow and you feel new tears rising behind your eyes. You hold them back, refusing to let your weak side win once again.

You will need all your strength to fight Thurfian.

Now that he seems to accept the possibility that the baby is his, the threat of the abortion seems to have grown closer, looming over you.

He said he would take care of you and the child but that was only theorical, now that it is here in front of him nothing is less credible than this declaration.

You may need to flee the manor and Csilla entirely if you want to keep your little one!

You need your mind clear and peaceful.

You turn to the door opening once again and Thurfian sits back down… His face is still bloody.

He didn’t enter to get dressed?

“To the Manor.” He orders once again, deadly cold.

He has a little plastic bag on his laps, the thing he bought in the pharmacy surely. You fight the yen to ask what it is, instead focusing in gathering all your points for the future argument.

Because you won’t escape it, that’s for sure.

You reach the familiar Mitth Manor as you go through your bullet points list in your mind and Thurfian grabs your hand once again to guide you to his personal suite. He pushes the plastic bag in your hands and then pushes you inside the bathroom without any words.

You’re left mouth agape and with unanswered questions. You open the back to discover pills against dizziness and vomiting and… A pregnancy test.

The message is clear…

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

You reopen the bathroom door in complete silence and shoulders low. Thurfian is seating in one of his luxurious armchair, sipping a glass of alcohol, surely to calm down his nerves.

You approach with little steps, the will to appear confident and insolent disappeared after all this emotions.

Now you’re just tired and wish of the day to finally end.

He gives you a side glance as you reach his side, silently asking the question.

You gulp, refraining sobs and show the test.

“Negative.” You let him know.

You are not pregant.

No baby, no little one…

His gaze travels from the test to your saddened face. He finally extends his hand to observe it for himself.

“You must be relieved.” You say full of venom but with an exhausted voice.

He looks intently at the single line on the small screen, making the test roll between his fingers.

“It is… relieving indeed.” He finally lets out.

But this is not his relieved tone.

Not at all…

Instead he seems… Displeased? Saddened?

You look at him in silence, trying to decipher his mood. He finishes his glass in one single large gulp and puts it down the table with a resonating clank.

“This is an excellent news.” He repeats louder, but once again without his heart.

You fidget your fingers, not daring to even try to understand this man. You just look at him.

He stands up on his feet, handing you the test.

“You must be relieved too.” He argues.

“No…” You admit, “Not really….”

“Because you cannot trap me with you now?” He asks sarcastically.

You raise your eyes to his carmine gaze to find that the sarcasm didn’t reach his eyes.

Instead he appears… tired, almost disappointed.

“I thought you would be happier?” You ask.

“You forgot the mask we wear, human. I need not an explicit demonstration to let my joy be heard.”

“For now you rather seem disappointed.” You try.

You see a flash of anger in his eyes but it softens, almost against his will, in front of your clear gaze.

“You imagine things, (Y/n)’(F/n).”

“Am I?”

He growls, turning away from you, but you seize his shoulder gently, forcing him to face you again.

“Thurfian…You can speak to me.” You call gently, “I have no power against any of you, remember?” You laugh a little, trying to relax the atmosphere.

He looks into your human eyes, his shoulder tense but they seem to relax subtly under your touch. He sighs and sits back in the armchair.

“I need to father an heir.” He lets out. “As a Patriarch it is one of my most sacred duties to offer the Mitth family a new offspring for the next generation. I must set an example.”

You sit down on the table next to him, higher than him but he doesn’t seem to care.

“You have numerous lovers.” You murmur, “You will have heirs easily.”

Why do you even try to comfort him? He is the one who suggested you go to an abortion clinic because you saw ‘too many’ men!

But when you see his tense expression your heart cannot help but melt.

You cannot help but love this Chiss.

“‘Lovers’ you say.” He scoffs, “Those are paid women. No one would take the risk to end up pregnant, not when their whole livelihood is at risk. The others are women blinded by power and fortune. I need a woman with her head on her shoulders, not one to give in to temptation.”

“You don’t have a single genuine relationship?” you investigate, surprised.

You knew Thurfian didn’t deprived himself of the services of some professional women, but you always thought he also had true meaningful relationships next to it. He sees so much different women you were persuaded at least some were genuinely into him. He is a handsome, rich and powerful man, he still has all his charms and chances despite his older age… He managed to completely enchant you, why not Chiss women?

“No, I have no time for them.” He responds like it was obvious, “I dedicated all of my life to my work and my greatest reward was the Patriarch rank. I need no other thing in my life.”

‘Except a woman willing to bear your children.’ You think but take care to not voice. He would surely slap you for the affront.

“How did Thooraki manage?” You ask.

“He was married young and way before acceding the Patriarch rank.” He answers almost tiredly, his slender fingers combing his luscious hair back.

He sighs deeply, his head laying back on the back of the armchair, exposing his delicate neck to your view. You gulp slightly at that beautiful view. He opens his eyes to fix the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

You look at him, crossing and uncrossing your legs.

Wait.

Does that mean…?

“So, outside of me you have no true relationship?” You ask.

He growls again, flashing his long, pearly white incisors.

“Do not mock me. I remain your Patriarch.” He warns.

“Technically I am not even a Mitth.” You counter, “You are not my Patriarch but my jailer.”

He shoots you a black side glance, but caves in.

“What a pitiful Patriarch I make…”

You put your hand on his shoulder tenderly, comfortingly…

“No, you are not Thurfian.” You say gently, “You are admirable. You lead your family expertly and watch over every single of its members. This is worthy of admiration.”

He sneers lightly.

“Your Cheuhn vocabulary is still limited even after all this time, human.”

You slap his shoulder to stop his mocking smile from growing wider.

“But you are right. You are the only one I have at this moment.” He says almost to himself.

And his hand comes to lay on your thighs, gently caressing them with his thumbs. You lay your own on his and he grasps it, squeezing it lightly.

“You will find a proper Chiss woman, one that would be happy to be the mother of your children.” You encourage.

“I lack time. I am getting older each passing day and my agenda is always cramped, how am I supposed to meet ‘the one’ like that?” He asks rhetorically.

“Well, if you start by stopping seeing all those professionals you’ll find your agenda surprisingly lighter suddenly.” You gently mock.

He chuckles slightly with you, appearing tired of everything.

“You are wiser than you first appear, (Y/n)’(F/n)” He retorts.

You sigh exaggeratedly, still holding his blue hand. He doesn’t let go either. His eyes remain fixed on the ceiling.

“But when you told me you were pregnant with me, I… had hope for a fleeting moment.” He reveals.

Your heart skips a beat.

What did he just say?

“You mean you would have wanted this child?” You investigate, restless.

“Of course. They remain my blood.” He just says, “I already told you I would take my responsibilities if you ended up pregnant. I would not have abandoned you nor the child. I am not heartless.”

“You have a reputation to defend and protect.” You argue.

“A Patriarch who aborts their own children is a disgrace, we are not held to the same standards as the rest of the Chiss. We cannot renounce them either, and I would not have.”

“Even if they are only half Chiss?”

The question is asked, no backing down now.

He sighs deeply and lays his head on your thighs, to your surprise! You are so taken aback you don’t know what to do, so you tentatively start caressing his gorgeous mane.

He doesn’t stop you, so you keep going. You lightly graze the cut on his cheek. At least the blood stopped flowing.

“The laws are nebulous on this point.” He murmurs, “I have the sentiment no half blood is supposed to see the light of day, that the Chiss are to avoid it at all cost.”

“But… But you came inside me last time.” You say lost, “You told me yourself you would support us.”

“Maybe… I was hoping for a happy accident…” He delicately caresses your round thighs, “I lack time and maybe I hoped you would end up pregnant and give me a baby, despite everything… If I cannot give the Mitth an heir I still desire a child for myself.”

The air is sucked off your lungs by the shock, you feel your hands starting to tremble as you caress his hair.

In that instant you realize you and Thurfian are more alike than you first thought. You both just want someone that will not hate you. You for being an alien and him for the misfortune to be Thooraki’s heir to the Patriarch rank. Thooraki was well respected but above all loved by the Mitths and Thurfian seems to stand on a shaky ground. Mitths have elected him as Patriarch but very clearly appear wary of him... To the point that his first aid Thivik seems to regret their late Patriarch to the new one.

He must feel alone on his throne.

“Thurfian?” You whisper incredulous, “Are you telling me that… You wanted me to bear your child?”

He keeps caressing your thigh, almost like he didn’t hear you, but you know he has.

“Why not?” He finally says, “I appreciate you and your company. You have terrible manners but you save it with other qualities…”

“But I’m human…” You insist

He turns his head to meet your gaze.

“Is your view of my personhood that unfavorable?”

You gulp under such burning eyes. He looks straight at you without shame or reserve, seeing through your vulnerable human soul with his shiny glare. Squirmish, you press your thighs together and wiggle on your wooden table.

But there are some details you cannot look over!

“How could I know? You always refused to adopt me in the family! Right now I am not even a Merit Adoptive!”

“I know…” He admits, “I was afraid they would suspect something if I let you enter. I wanted to cover my tracks.”

“Do you have a single idea how that hurts?!” You greet your teeth. “How rejected I felt?!”

He straightens his back but keeps looking at you.

“I am sorry.” He confesses

His hand caresses your cheek as you tremble, gently tilting your head forward until he can capture your lips in an infinitely soft kiss. Your lips barely graze, like butterflies flapping their wings in the wind, you can feel his warm breath on your parted lips.

“You taste like peaches.” He says lowly and kisses you again.

You cannot help a little smile against his soft mouth.

“How would you treat them once they are born?” You ask, still suspicious.

“They will be blood Mitth, as I am. They will receive the best education the family can offer, they will get a generous pension and lands to manage. I will treat them with all regards due to their rank.” He reassures you.

“And what would I become? Will I remain the stray of the Mitth?” You press.

“(Y/n), if you give me a healthy baby I promise to give you a rank among the family.” He offers you seriously. “You will become a Mitth as everyone else around you, others will give you the respect you deserve for your service to grow the family.” He captures your lips again, more demanding and desperate you ever saw him, “Please say yes. (Y/n)... Give me a child.”

‘Will you marry me?’ The question burns your lips, but you bury it deep.

You never revealed your love for him and know nothing of his true feelings towards you, now is not the time to scare him away and your best chance to get stability in the Ascendancy.

So you kiss him back, with vigor and fervor, circling his neck with your arms as he clasps his arms around your waist.

“Will you?” He parts with you with feverish red burning eyes.

“Yes.” You nod, “I will give you a baby, Thurfian.”

He sighs satisfied and kisses you again, losing himself in you.

“Did you take the medicine?” He stops again.

You pause.

Your stomach stopped hurting and you don’t feel any sickness anymore.

“Yes. It’s surprisingly potent!” You admit.

“Good.” And he lifts you up in his arms with ease.

He’s not a warrior or a soldier but he takes great care of himself! Patriarch duties are incredibly demanding after all, good physical health and stamina are essential to survive a single day here. You yelp at the sensation to be lifted all of the sudden and hold on to him as he carries you to his large bed. He lays you down softly, kissing your neck. He claps his hand and all the lights dim down, accentuating the shimmer of his carmine gaze.

“I need you to be healthy and focused tonight.” He whispers, biting your ear as one of his hands comes to seize the zipper at the back of your dress.

You raise on your elbows to give him better access and start licking and sucking the skin of his neck, letting purple love bites on his flesh. He growls in approval and pulls the zipper down, passing his hands behind the fabric to caress the nude skin of your back. You circle his neck again and pull him down to force him to lay on you.

You want to feel the weight of his entire body on yours.

He is so warm, you can feel it radiate through the layers of fabric of his traditional robe but you want to feel his warm blue skin on yours now! You feverishly seize his collar to find the buttons or chain helding it close but his hand stops you easily.

“Shhhhhhhhh. Let’s take our time…” He calms your ardors down, “Let us savor the experience.” He sighs lasciviously, licking your neck.

Thurfian never wants to take his time. Never!

He wants a good lay and he wants it quick!

You look at him with round eyes, heavy with suspicion.

“Do not look at me like that.” He chastises you.

“You always have your way and throw me out of the room immediately after.” You counter.

He kisses your knuckles.

“It will not happen anymore.” He says tenderly, kissing each of your fingertips and your palms.

You sniff, incredulous.

“You have my word.” He assures.

And he resumes kissing you deeply, languorously… His tongue meets and dances with yours softly as he holds your cheek in his warm palm. You moan in the kiss, demanding for more.

So he gently pulls on the shoulder of your dress to undress your top to reveal your black laced bra to his burning gaze.

“Beautiful.” He approves, “But the Mitth colors suit you way better.”

You chuckle. He really stands by it!

He sucks and bites your sensitive neck, leaving love bites on your own skin, marking you as his. He slowly goes down, kissing his way to your collarbone and further. He kisses and licks the plump of your breast before grazing the thin skin with his long incisors, threatening to pierce the skin. You let your head fall on the bed, leaving your body at his entire mercy, leaving him to do as he pleases with you.

But the bite never came. He kisses your bosom reverently instead.

He pulls the dress til your waist down before slipping the braces of your bra out of his way to reveal your breast fully to him.

“Gorgeous, so round and soft, just as I love them. Your body is a real treasure (Y/n).”

You gasp under his caress and kiss. He never took the time to compliment you or appreciate your body, not beyond the pleasure it could give him, before tossing it to the side without another glance.

But tonight he takes all of his time to explore each and every nook and crannies. He makes your nipple swirl under his thumbs, exciting the nervous buds gently before leaning forward and taking one in his mouth. He sucks your nipples and laps it with his tongue and circling it across. You shudder and moan, combing your fingers in his mane, pressing him down against your craving body. You feel yourself growing hotter and more fébrile under his touch, your pussy awakening from its torpor to demand immediate attention. He growls his own pleasure to you too, not refraining from bestial groans to excite you further. You wave your body and arch your back into his greedy mouth and he purrs in response.

That single sound sends vibrations through his flexible tongue to your bud and you bite your lower lips, taking a fistfull of his shiny hair, messing his coif. He takes a big sloppy lap at your nipple, leaving drool rolling on the plump of your tit. He kisses it a final time and switches to the other, pinching and swirling the left out. You squirm under his weight, desperate for him to go further, to touch you where you're warm and humid.

Because you are definitively wet now!

This change of mood for a gentler lover is appreciated and it excites you tremendously.

“Thurfian… Thurfian…” You whine, trying to get things moving but he growls a warning, sucking conscientiously on your nipple.

He kneads and massages the other with his large palm like the soft and delicate matter that it is. He offers so much care and attention to your tits, kissing them like holy relics. A tremble shakes your entire body, making you squeeze his head against your breast, choking him for a split second.

“Sorry.” You present your excuses.

“There is no need. Suffocating on your tits is far greater than good. I bet suffocating between your thighs is even better…”

You choke for a split second.

Did he just propose to go down on you?

He never did that! He is above that!

But he is kissing his way down right now, licking all across your stomach, soiling you with his drool. He stops just ahead of the folds of your dress, giving it a last lick with the tip of his tongue.

“Place yourself correctly on the bed.” He orders, rising back on his feet.

You crawl on your back, aligning you correctly with the large bed and coming to rest on the fluffy pillows. You observe Thurfian getting rid of layers and layers of his robes. When he notices you looking at him like a delicious meal he smirks smugly and puts on a little show undressing for your viewing pleasure. Slowing down his gestures and caressing his own body as he finally reveals his chest to you. There is a layer of fat on his chest and stomach but the hard muscles are indisputably here, carving his body out of pure marble.

He is really well made… You gulp, almost intimidated.

It feels like discovering his body for the very first time.

And he is scorching hot! His older age doesn’t spoil a single thing either, Chiss growing older much more gracefully than human and enhancing their haughty air and elegant regal features...

Your mouth opens slightly, drooling in hunger especially subjected to such alluring spectacle, and you press your thighs together while one of your hands scoops your sex and massages it through the fabric of your panties. He finishes his little show in his boxers and by liberating his mane of all their hair ties and ornaments, letting all his long hair flow in his back freely. He slicks the front strands back with his hand as he crawls towards you like a hungry predator, a growl resonating inside his chest and in the large suite.

You gulp, his flaming gaze devouring your form like a costly dish he is about to feast on.

He seizes your knees and opens your legs wide open and his slender hands snake their way up your inner thighs, caressing your flesh lovingly, pushing the dress out of his way up to your hips, revealing your little laced panties.

Green and blue too.

He snarls.

“You have some nerve to come dressed in Stybla's colors to my ball, woman.”

“It’s the only dress I paid for myself that could make the cut for such an event.” You try to explain.

“When you get pregnant I only want you to wear burgundy and gold.” He orders, “No strutting around with my child in a rival family’s color, understood?”

You swallow before his inquisitive gaze.

“Could I at least choose the clothes for myself this time?” You negotiate.

His expression relaxes and he leans forward to tenderly kiss your thighs.

“Yes, Vutucni.” He purrs, and your pussy clench at how sweet his tone sounds, “But you still deserve a punishment. I will make you come so hard you will beg me to stop.” He warns, licking his lips with a predatory look.

You shiver, but not of fear or anxiousness, but of desire and anticipation. You’re dying to feel his touch on you, you feel a single caress would make you implode on the spot.

“That doesn’t seem to trouble you.” He notes, slightly amused, “Quite the contrary.”

You nod your head enthusiastically and open your legs wider for him. You cannot help but bite your lips with expectation. His large hands hook your panties and pull them, not neglecting to leave love bites all along your legs, sucking on the sensitive flesh.

But never where you crave it the most.

You whine pushing your hips closer, begging for him to start, shaking all over with desire. He darkly chuckles.

“I always appreciated your enthusiasm.” He lets you know, “Sex between Chiss is more… restrictive in some ways. You, you abandon yourself completely to me… I love that.” He praises.

Your heart clenches, Chiss view on sex is more practical than pleasure oriented. They love not letting the mask of ‘perfection’ slip off their face and a sweaty activity demanding you to be vulnerable and open to the other might be a bit of a threat to their honor.

Not to say they don’t have pleasure! There is always exceptions to the rule and you know somewhere in Chiss space a lot of couples are fucking like snowrabbits in rut but you also remember how closed off and terribly sterile and formal Thurfian was during your first times, until he started to relax and show his true deviances and kinks to you.

Cause if you ever started to claim the Patriarch of the family was as perverted and touch starved as everyone else who would give credits to your words? You remained an untrustworthy alien.

You grab his cheeks and pull him closer to capture his soft lips. You kiss him deep and languorously, robbing you both of your breath. You just felt this pressing desire to kiss him at his words, to make one together. You moan and mewls for his pleasure and he bites your lower lips with guttural groans. His hand sneakily reaches your gaping pussy and trails your fold up and down with his long fingers, coating them well and flicking your little clit with his thumbs, making you react instantly. You gasp in the kiss and he pushes his tongue inside your mouth instead, pressing them together to dance and hug. His second hand comes behind your head to press you tighter, gripping your hair in his fist and pulling on them. Your head is yanked back, exposing your neck to his greedy mouth that he licks thoroughly. He peppers kisses on the bruised spot where the love bites are already appearing.

“Do not hide your marks tomorrow.” He orders.

“Will you hide yours?” You tease.

But you also want to make sure he doesn’t want to show you off while hiding the proof of his sin.

“Depends.” He sneers darkly, “Will you be good for me tonight?”

You scoff offended.

“Am I not always good for you, your Venerante?!” You demand.

He nudges the tip of his nose with a hickey, a satisfied grin flourishing on his face.

“I am playing with you, Vutucni.”

You purse your lips, pouting. He circles your clit harder to make you jolt and gasp, his other flexible fingers toying with your little cunt with practiced ease.

“You make me lose track of all my objectives, you unruly woman.” He bites the crook of your neck, “Don’t move.”

He reverently kisses your two tits and places himself correctly and comfortably between your legs, grabbing your thighs with his large hands, keeping them wide apart.

“You are already wet, but I want you absolutely dripping like a fountain.” He blows on your exposed pussy, making all your inner muscles contract in response, blocking the air in your throat. He takes a tentative lick at your nervous bud, making you jolt immediately. You’re so thin skinned and sensitive at this moment…

His purr deepens.

“Very nice reaction, human.” He praises, “But how loud can I really make you scream?”

And without leaving your time to respond he dives in to take a big sloppy lick of your pussy and starts working. Obscene moans escape you as he works diligently on your folds, trailing the slit up and down with his flexible warm and wet muscle. You feel your legs starting to shake and willing to close to deny him access but he holds them firmly open without difficulties. He kisses and licks your pussylips gluttonously before focusing on your pearl.

He darts his tongue and titillates it sadistically with light touches, making you crave and beg for more as he just pokes and gives little licks to the heart of your desires. You squirm and whine, inadvertently trying to get away from those torturous touches, but he assures his grips on your plump thighs and starts sucking on your clit like a candy, making it roll between his swollen lips, circling it with his tongue, crossing it and lapping at it. Your hands get a grip on the soft covers, digging your nails in the fabric as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your essence leaking down your puffy flesh but he is here to drink from you, licking you clean, delighting himself in your taste. He doesn’t refrain from voicing his satisfaction to your ears, purring and growling like an actual beast.

One of his hands leaves your thighs to open your pussylips with two long fingers to expose your hidden flesh to his assaults. You feel your abdominals and inner muscles contracting in waves as he laves at you enthusiastically. He suddenly bites down your clit and you start in pain and pleasure, owning an amused purr in response. Once again, the vibrations of his purr travel through his warm tongue to tease your pearl even more, absolutely forcing you on your knees.

“Thurfian…” You gasp.

He hums in response, very pleased by your various reactions of obvious pleasure, encouraging him to continue further.

He will push your limits until you are screaming between his hands.

He enters your most secret place with a finger and starts caressing your G spot expertly while sucking on your clitoris. You feel his long finger caressing every inner curves with flexibility. He was always so good at fingering you and loved to flex his talents by having you cum with his fingers alone. He prided himself in making you come undone with a single finger!

But doubled up with his mouth…?

This is so much more intense and pleasurable!

By sheer despair your hands come entangle themself in his luscious blue-black mane, combing your fingers in his locks and holding him against the heart of all your desires. Your legs shake so much you’re affraid to hit him with your trembling heels. He throw your legs over his shoulders and you cross them, keeping him prisoner between your luscious tighs. He sucks and licks like a machine, unstoppable and tireless while you spend more and more energy trying to keep it quiet, a scream of pleasure rising and growing in your throat, threatening to pass your lips at any second if your not careful.

Thats when he pushes a second finger inside your gaping pussy, curling them against your gummy spot.

You cannot hold it back and scream. You immediately bite hard into one your finger to silence yourself.

And he doesn’t tolerate it, he bites hard in your inner tighs with a pissed growl. The pain forces your mouth open, releasing your finger.

“Scream, Human. I do not give you the right to remain silent.” He orders curtly.

“But we will be heard, we-”

“They are all at the ball at the Hotel Particulier. We are alone, there is only us.”

You gasp, trying to catch your breath from the drowning pleasure you are feeling.

“What about the domestics?”

“They are contractually mute and deaf. Do not bother yourself with them and focus on our pleasure!”

‘Our pleasure’...

It makes your heart pumps harder. Makes you feel light...

To prove his point he scisors you, hooking your little pussy with his long fingers efficiently as he torture your puffy clit, forcing all of those obscene pleas like an obsessive littany. Your fluffy inner fleshes puff up, gorging themself with warm blood to prepare for the upcoming, roaring orgasm you feel just over the curb, right there, you could almost touch it...

And then

It snaps.

Fire flow through your veins and your pussy clench hard around Thurfian’s fingers, retaining them deep inside, contracting as waves of pleasure travel your entire body, immobilizing you in a deliciosuly torturing embrace...

Your little pussy tightens so much so suddenly you squirt into Thurfian’s mouth and your toes curl, your eyes roll inside your head as you scream again the Patriarch’s core name for all to hear. Your entire body tenses up like you were electrocuted and suddenly relaxes with a ‘oof’ on the large comfortable bed.

You can only hear your own heartbeat resonating in your ears and Thrufian’s satisfied purr as he lick the remnant of your essence off your sweet cunt, drinking your pleasure raw and pure like ambrosia.

You pant, feeling your sweat rolling on your naked skin as Thurfian stands up, licking his fingers ostensibly, sucking them clean obscenenly as a power move as your slick still beads off his perfect jaw.

“You taste sweet.” He compliments, “Quite savory. You make for a very tasty dinner, Vutucni.”

His eyes shine so much you cannot see any pupils anymore, lighting up the bedroom of a dangerous red shade.

But you feel at ease.

You like to bath in all this red, surrounded by darkness and warmth. It feels so right.

He leans forward to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He invades your mouth, caressing your tongue as he holds the back of your head to keep you in place without any chance of escaping.

He purrs so loudly, so unashamedly you want to purr with him.

“It was a really good performance, Vutucni. I want you to do it again with my cock this time.” He licks your jaw and bites your ear.

“Then give it to me.” You lick his blood off his cut cheek.

He raises on his knees to lower his boxers, freeing his erection. It stands proudly erect, girthy and long with delicious ridges, you take it in your hand and start pumping him, playing with the crown of his cock, pulling on the skin to reveal the head that leaks pre-cum.

You’re about to take it in your mouth when Thurfian seizes your throat to gently push you down the matress with his eyes silently ordering you to remain still.

You pout, making him chuckle in return.

He places himself correctly between your open legs and starts brushing his long member against your soaked folds, he coats it well and good with a back and forth movements and spreading his pre-cum all along his lenght with one hand. He pokes and nudges your tight entrance with his tip to tease you, amusing himself at how pissed off you get as he doesn’t enter you right away.

His expression loose its light to become grave and serious all of the sudden, burying his gaze in yours.

“(Y/n), there is something you must be aware of beforehand.” He starts gravely.

You slowly nods, unsure of what he is about to unleash on you and slightly affraid by the sudden change of tone.

“This child... Could not get accepted by the rest of the Chiss. It is very clear to me that they would never accept them as my heir.”

“Can’t you... force them? You are Patriarch after all...”

“They will receive the privileges of the blood Mitth, but I am affraid their life will be... lonely and mostly without ties.”

“Are you affraid they will look too human?”

“They won’t. Chiss genes prevail.” He immediately hardens his tone.

You open your eyes slightly at that aggression and he relaxes seeing your expression, his hand coming to caress your cheek delicately.

“They will look Chiss, they will just... feel it on them, that they are not pure Chiss. And I worry it will weigh on them.”

You are alone since day one in this Society and you managed but Thurfian could give them what you never could.

“As long as they have the power of the blood, I can teach them to live in this unforgivable environment.”

“How?” He asks softly.

You scoff.

“I do it daily! I know how you operate and I’ll prepare them to take down any challenge!” You greet your teeth.

‘And take down any of you!’ you add in your mind.

His thumb gently caress your cheek, like he is lost in his thoughts.

“You speak so harshly of us.”

“You are not exactly welcoming with outsiders.”

“You have me now.”

You tuts.

“Will you be here for them as well?”

“Everyday.” He gently assures, “They are my child as much as yours.” He leans forward to kiss you again and lets his forehead resting against yours, “I worry the same for you. They will give you respect but close their hearts to you.”

“As long as they bow to me I will be magnanimous.” You half jokingly lets out.

“I will also probably need to father another child.” He keeps going, “A pure Chiss, for my lineage.”

He lets the information sink, and with it your heart.

He will not remain with you?

“A half-blood could never be an heir of one of the nine...”

“Yes I understood the first time!” You spit, annoyed.

“I cannot be exclusive with you.” He insists.

“I know.” You sulk in your pain, “I figured as much...”

He brushes your foreheads together.

“I am sorry, (Y/n). You may have been the only one who were ready to stay with me no matter what.”

You bury your heart.

You would have followed Thurfian to the other side of the universe if he just asked, you would have done unforgivable things to remain with him...

But such are the Chiss.

Heartless and practical.

“I just hope you’ll find the right woman quickly.” You hide your pain behind and encouraging smile you shine to him.

He inhales, still caressing your cheek.

“Do you still want this?” He offers you an escape door.

But you circle his neck with your arms and his waist with your legs.

“Give me your baby.” You bury your nose in the crook of his neck.

You cannot have his undivided attention and love, but you can still give him a family... His own little family.

He embraces your shoulders tight and you feel him slowly invading your pussy. Your mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the sensation to finally be full. He pushes his cock inside easily to not hurt you.

But he hurted you deeper he ever could already.

You hiss at his size. He is well endowed and always a little tricky to fit, but your first, fantastic orgasm helps a lot and he finally sit fully inside. He remains still for your comfort, letting your pussy time to adjust, patiently. When he feels your muscles relaxing all around him like a fluffy pillow he gives you one shallow thrust, testing your reactions. It slips easily and without hurting. Without you asking him to stop he takes it as a ‘go’ and starts a back and forth movement, leaving just the tip inside and pushing it back his whole lenght inside.

He makes gentle love to you, with deep and languid thrusts, kissing the crook of your neck and nibbling your ear. Your pussy welcomes him fully, eagerly inviting him inside, his numerous ridges grazing and teasing all your deep hidden spots so easily...

You gasp and mewl, a comforting pool of heat getting born in your bundle of nerves and small shockwaves of pleasures spreads through your veins. Thurfian hiss and grunts as your cunt squeezes his cock, absolutely torturing him, tearing him apart.

You feel his eagerness to speed up the pace but he keeps it slow and languorous as he licks your shoulder to your jaw before kissing to corner of your parted lips.

“You are strangling me, (Y/n).” He groans, “You’re forcing me on my knees...”

Serves him right!

He pushes it back in terribly slowly, a creamy ‘o’ starting to form at his base. You gasp as his dick brushes your spots without breaking a sweat. His purr resumes, resonating in the large bedroom and with your heart as he hugs you close against his own. He suddenly grazes a spot that makes you shudder in bliss and clench your pussy around his cock.

“Ch'etecerci!” He curses, “Stop doing that!” He rasps, sweaty and trembling.

You gorge yourself with pride, he is not insensible to the pleasure you give him! You can reach him too and touch him.

He isn’t closed to you.

To toy with him you contract your inner muscles several times and he throws his head backward in pure bliss.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...” He chants breathily, pecking your face all over, “You are torturing me so deliciously, you temptress.”

You whine as he slowy starts to increase the pace of his hips. The entire room reeks of sweat and sex and your only source of light is his carmine eyes, burning everything it remotly touch such as your shuddering body. His hips meets yours sloppily but lovingly, tenderly, gently...

You gasp as he sough sweet nothing in your ear, kissing it foundly as he presses his cheek to yours, his entire perfect body weighting on yours, wrapping you in a sweet warmth that you never felt in any other lover’s embrace. The rythm is slow but fill with love and passion, just expressed differently than what he is used too.

He always liked it rough and harsh, far away from tenderness and gentleness. He kept this side of him locked and hidden.

He could never show another side but conquering and dominant to the alien as the Patriarch and more importantly as a Chiss. Their fierceness must be displayed at any moment, especially to outsiders, never showing any weakness or soft sides.

So,

For him to allow you to see that part of him... That vulnerable part...

It is probably a one time thing and you should enjoy it for the little time you have, he would probably close himself back to you after, even if he promised to take more care of you.

His attention is earned but never his affection.

You embrace him tighter to emprison him, letting your pussy adjusting to his size to let him pass, your inner secret place all puffy with blood and fluffy like a pillow for his cock, like a velvety sheath made for him.

He rolls his hips rythmically with your breathes, letting you guide him for the pace and making sweet love to you like he never did before. You turn your head to kiss his cheek with a mimic of their deep purring sounds. A poor imitation from your human vocal cords but you hear a very faint chuckle and his own purr gains in intensity. It’s like music to your ears with his groans and pants.

His hands leave your shoulders to grip your hips and ass to position you in a better angle, allowing him to go even deeper wich seems almost impossible.

But he does, brushing your cervix with his leaking tip.

This new sensations sends fire to your nerve endings and you tremble dramatically in his arms, a tsunami of pleasure ready to crash upon you.

“Oh Maker...” You breathe, the warm waves rising in your veins almost comfortingly, “Keep going, please!”

He lay his forehead on yours, looking into your human eyes and you suddenly feel incredibly shy to be seen and perceived in such intimate moment you close your eyes to protect your sanity.

“Look at me please.” He calls majestically, “Look into my eyes when you cum.”

You squirm and shake your head, your eyes shut close. He takes your chin between two fingers and tilt your head towards his face.

“(Y/n), look into my gaze.” He orders, “As a Mitth you must always obey your Patriarch.”

His other hand leaves your hip to take yours and entertwine your fingers together. You whine but open your eyes tentatively, looking up to the Chiss looming over your naked, exposed form.

You immediately drown in an ocean of red, hypnotized, witnessing the Universe expending in his carmine jewels burning so bright with excitement and lust you are almost blinded by such light.

And you immediately cum.

Your pussy clenches and squeezes around his girthy shaft, trying desesperatly to retain him deep inside. You close back your eyes in shock, hyperspaces draw in white light behind your eyelids. Thurfian cock is compressed and massaged by your inner muscles, getting pulled deeper in voluptuous sensations, dragging him further in red-hot pleasure and he comes inside you, painting your little pussy in white as he spurts his semen deep inside your womb.

You feel his shaft twitches and didders almost painfully, forcing a deep guttural growl off his throat, and your pussy milks him dry, pumping everything greedily inside your warmth.

He didn’t let go of your hand.

You remain silent, gasping for air, Thurfian laying on your body, both sweaty and burning hot. You dive your head in the crook of his solid neck to inhale his natural musk enhanced by your efforts.

It is manly, with strong notes of pine and sex and... comforting, like a scent you smelled in your childhood.

You can also feel your two beating hearts pumping quickly from the physical efforts through your respective chests, you slide a hand between your two bodies to place it on his large peck to feel the vibrations through your palm. You cannot help a little chuckle when you feel his heart jumping at the soft contact of your hand.

He gently kisses your shoulder with the ghost of his lips, leaving pecks as light as butterflies wings. As you go down from your daze he gently slips off of you to straigthens his back, well grounded on his knees on the matress. He rises his head high and dramatically slick his hair back, looking down at you regally.

“Turn around and raise your hips.” He orders.

His shaft is still well erected, standing tall and proud, making you slightly anxious of what is to come...

You groan, tired and sore but you roll on your stomach with a sigh and raise your hips in the air, to soothe yourself you take one of the pillow and put it under your head to hug it and dig your nails in the fabric.

Thurfian large palms caress the plump or your ass before gripping your hips and harshly bring them closer to him.

You feel two of his fingers trailing your slit up and down, coated with his sperm and your essence that you feel rolling along your thighs.

And he noticed too.

He flicks your pussy making you start at the sharp pain disolving in numbing pleasure.

“You are already wasting my semen, woman. How am I supposed to get things done around here?”

“I am sorry your Venerante.” You swing your hips to taunt him, “I am a bad girl!”

And you both burst out in a light chuckle.

You could never say such things seriously!

Thurfian clears his throat to stop while yours finish in a deep, long sigh, pleased to have relaxed the atmosphere a bit.

“Keep steady, Vutucni.”

And that’s your only warning before he pushes back his cock inside your gaping pussy. All air is chased or your lungs at the sudden fullness, feeling stuffed to the brim by his glorious member. He takes two shallow thrusts, testing your wetness and flexibilty and starts to fuck you like he loves to.

You’re forced to open your legs wide to stabilize yourself on the soft, fluffy matress to not get pushed over, and you dig your nails in your pillow, menacing to tear apart its fabric. You focus on your breathing as he rams his lenght inside without an once of mercy for your exhausted, more fragile human body.

You have no Chiss stamina nor resistance. You are far more limited as a human, wich was tricky at first when they gave you a standardized agenda for Chiss. Numerous time you tought you would pass out of exhaustion for Thurfian to keep fucking you while you’re unconscious.

He would not stop for so little.

You hiss as he bullies himself deep inside, hitting your cervix with ease.

It is more painful than pleasant and each hit gets more painful than the former.

He seems to take it into account as he slightly tilts his pelvis to change the angle, making it more comfortable for you, easing your pain to a more voluptuous and warm sensation. He slightly slow down his rut to test this new angle before resuming his merciless pace, hitting all your spots even better and making you see stars. You feel yourself drooling on your jaw as the pool of heat in your stomach grows more and more at each of his profound thrusts, like ebullient lava ready to spill and burns anything it touches.

Thurfian lets out a deep sighs as he keeps fucking you hard and good, holding your hips firmly for you not too fall or escape.

“(Y/n)... (Y/n)...” He chants in his melodious accent, “You let me discover my true desires.” He accentuates each words with a good hips movement, making you whimper each times as you threaten to fall off the bed, “You let me breed you, my little human. To do as I please, to fuck as I want...”

In this frenetic frenzy you feel his hand snaking it’s way under you to play with your puffy clit.

You jolt with a breathy moan, making your pussy clenches around him.

“Ravri'ihah!” He curses with a deep voice, “What did I told you about that?”

But he keeps playing with your pulsating pearls expertly, making you whimper louder and louder and your legs tremble so much you feel they are going to give way under you.

You bite into the pillow to silence yourself, earning an instantaneous slap on your butt.

“I ordered you to not silence yourself, I recall!” His regal voice rising imperiously over you, “I am going to make you scream for your transgression.” He sentences.

And he increases his movement, installing a brutal pace, fucking you like an animal. This time he truly is bestial, bullying himself meanly into your poor pussy.

Your poor body isn’t meant to bare such intensity. This time you feel like you’re really going to pass out! Air is pushed out of your lungs with hard shockwaves each time you try to open your mouth.

“Wait... Thu-Thurfian, please... Slow down, I-”

“Oh you want me to slow down now? You want my mercy? I generously warned you but you kept disobeying your Patriarch. You thought I would not stick to my words and leave you unpunished?” He taunts, a sadistic notes in his pleased tone.

He sure is enjoying himself.

“I will have you learn who I truly am, (Y/n)’(F/n). You will learn to obey your Patriarch by the end of this night.”

He slaps your ass again and resume his torture on your clit, making you clench harder and harder.

He knows all your sweet spots, he learned them by heart by know. If he wants you screaming in debilitating pleasure, he will have you screaming!

“Now learn your lesson, woman.”

He twists your clit between his fingers as he hungrily fucks you like he never did before.

Soon enough you cannot refrain any of the inadvertent cries that escape you under such terrible assaults, they get louder and louder as you dig your nails in the matress, trying really hard to not silence yourself again to not aggravate the situation, but also trying to keep them in check to not outright scream for everyone to hear again.

Thurfian laughs contented at your pitiful efforts.

“I was being nice to you until now.” He flicks your clit to have you trying to squirm away, only to impale you back on his cock, “And I will breed you. You will give me a child, several even. You will remain with me, not to see any other lovers. You will be mine, and mine only!”

To prove his point he fucks like a jackhammer, forcing your sore pussy to take him whole, strecthing it at it’s maximum, ruthlessly torturing your nervous and thin skinned body.

It should be painful with how violent and heavy it is, but each push just makes you cream more and more around his girthy shaft.

This time your legs do give out, but Thurfian holds you firmly with his strong arms.

“Tired already?” He mocks “You human are such fragile creatures it is comical. How do you intend to carry a Chiss baby, I wonder?”

You greet your teeth.

“Fucking try me!” You manage to spit between two gasped moans.

“Still snappy I see. If you have the energy to talk back you have the energy to scream. So please, Vutucni, humor me!”

And he leans forward, his bust agaisnt you back, deepening his thrusts, and bites down your shoulder with his long incisors.

You shout, the pain melting in a numbing bliss rapidly as he licks the blood rolling off your shoulder. His purr gets deeper and seems to roll on both of your skin as ocean’s tides.

He forces your body to lay down, following you down and ruts inside you, toying with your little pearl, worsening the clasp of your cunt on his member wich he actually seems to enjoy a lot!

Having his cock strangled by your little creaming sex his such a delight! Such a high!

He growls satisfied as you babble incoherently under his languorous offensive, your hips meeting with wet obsessive sounds, flesh hitting flesh obscenely, perversely.

“Oh Maker please slow down!” You breath, “You-Your Venerante! I am sorry!”

“Keep begging, cheo Vutucni. It suits your cute voice so well...” He teases.

He doesn’t slow down for even a second, his throbbing cock invading your intimacy, forcing it’s way in as your poor cunny cannot do another thing but to take it.

‘’You are so tight, Vutucni. Tighter than any Chiss cunt. You were made for me to fuck you. You were created to serve your Patriarch and bear his children.’’

You whimper at his words, melting on the spot as your toes curl.

‘’You want this ? You want my babies ? Do you, human ?’’

‘’I-ah !... Yes your Venerante.’’ You gasp, trying desperatly to focus but his ministrations on your clit and his rut just scramble your mind.

You are drooling all over yourself and the pillow is soaked.

‘’What a good little human, eager to please and be breed.’’ He kisses your cheek almost tenderly, ‘’Give it to me Cheo Vutucni. Give me all of your pleasure.’’

And he punctuates his words with his finals hard thrusts making you scream and squirt on his cock. A long high pitched scream of his name that surely made the manor tremble.

Your body tenses up, blood transformed in pure fire, your sweet cunny convulsing desperatly. Your eyes close shut with bright fireworks as your inner muscles undulate around Thurfian’s cock finishing to unload deep inside of you again. You feel him twitch as the last ribbon of creamy seed paints your vagina white.

He keeps circling your clit fondly as you go down your high, prolonging your orgasm and rolling your pleasure.

He starts kissing your shoulder gently, licking your sweat off your body.

You huff, in desperate need of a glass of water but Thurfian doesn’t seems disposed to move off you, laying on your body like a lascivious king.

His purr resonates loudly between the four walls of his bedroom.

You weakly try to raise your head off the pillow and he takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek once again.

‘’Are you alright Vutucni ?’’

You weakly nod, feeling shadows circling you.

He nuzzles his nose against your cheek with a loopsided grin.

‘’It was fantastic.’’ He praises, ‘’Did you like it ?’’

‘’Yes …’’ You sob, laying your head back on the pillow.

‘’Vutucni ?’’

And the darkness takes you…

You yawn and open your eyes… To discover you are not in your room but Thurfian’s ?

You start back at that realization, only to hit a body behind your back. You turn your head to discover Thurfian sleeping soundly, hugging your naked body, embracing it tight with his long arms around your tummy.

You look around to see both of your clothing tidied up and a glass of water waiting for you on your bedside table.

You turn in his arms, observing his relaxed features. He looks so different from his usual self, more moving and at ease.

He didn’t throw you out. He kept you in his bed with him for the first time… Letting you see that secret aprt of him.

You simply cannot help yourself but tracing his features with your fingers delicately, the softness of his forehead ridges, the point and curve of his nose, the delicateness of his eyelashes and the sharpness of his cheekbone, the hollow of his cheek, the perfection of his jaw and the plump of his lips.

‘’Are you having fun ?’’ He sighs.

You squeele in surprise as he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours.

‘’Good morning your Venerante.’’ You greet, disapointed to have been busted.

He grips your hand before you can take it away to kiss your palm and leans in to take your cheek to kiss your lips. Sweet kisses for a sweet morning.

Thats when you realize the sun pouring in the bedroom.

‘’Fuck! What time is it!?’’ You shout, jumping on a seating position, parting from his kiss,‘’ I have a shift this morning!’’

You go to leave the bed but Thurfian grasps your arm and pulls you back in his embrace.

‘’Thurfian ! We both have work, you more than me!’’ You try to reason him.

‘’And we will get to it.’’ He holds you down, ‘’But for now let’s enjoy. It’s been so long since I had a day off…’’

You try to wriggle your way out but he snarls and rolls on top of you, capturing your lips in a ravaging kiss, holding your wrists above your head in one hand.

‘’Do I need to fuck you into unconsciousness again ?’’ He taunts, his long hair framing his gorgeous face.

You just shake your head silently with pursed lips.

‘’Good. Remain.’’

‘’I have work to do.’’ You insist.

‘’Your workday is adjourned. Today your Patriarch demands your undivided attention.’’And he leans to kiss you again, brushing his hot loins agaisnt yours.

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