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Alright, I bet you’re not here for my bard and her dragonborn, but bear with me for a sec

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Also- lizardfolk partner appreciation day is today. It may not have existed before. But it does now. Cuz I say so.

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To be fair....I didn't think so many people would like my little attempt to get back into writing. I suppose that means I should update it? 🤔

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Boss Music

Here's the second part ( I guess lol) of the Bowser fanfic I've got going on fjsdisfidfh) It's not really edited but here we go!

'This is...less than ideal.' Surrounded by thick stone walls, torches that barely illuminated the space, and empty cells; it wasn't decor that inspired hope. Nor did the realization that I was the only one in any of the cells beneath the castle. 'Literally, where did I sign up for any of this? What did I do?' The only thing to keep me company, outside of your my musings, was the echoing of water dripping somewhere in the darkness to the right. Any time I tried to move my arms or legs, my movements were rewarded with the harsh clanking of chains. A dismal reminder that I was, indeed, stuck. Outside of the occasional visit from the guards that made their rounds to check that I was where I was supposed to be, or to deliver meals, I hadn't seen another soul. Not even my captor.

A sour feeling settled in my stomach as I rested my chin on my chest, trying to ignore the way my arms ached from being held in an upright position above my head. Knees bent, I pulled my legs in closer so the fabric of my dress would keep the dampness out. It was cold, but not to an extreme. It was just bearable enough to ignore it. Time seemed to drag at a snail's pace. My thoughts spiraled in an endless loop as I tried to make sense of the situation I was in. Trying to make sense of the irrational. Thudding footsteps arrested my attention, scattering my reverie like bugs running for cover.

I lifted my head up slowly, heart racing as the light from the torches cast shadows over the approaching figure. His entire presence, both physical and otherwise, was unmistakable. His ruby eyes were full of fire, a sense of cunning laying in their depths. The red mane, the horns and the scales, the spikes on his back all further illustrated to me who I was dealing with. Claws as sharp as knives ran along the iron bars of the cage, the noise making me shudder and cringe. He chuckled lowly, the corners of his mouth curling up into a grin. Still, he remained on the other side of the door to the cell. There was a false sense of security that I felt, even though I knew that the bars wouldn't hinder him from entering the cell should he want to. He wouldn't need a key to get in, he could use his raw strength if he chose.

His tail swayed slowly behind him, like a cat as they readied to pounce and play with their prey. My heartbeat sped up, eyes locking on his face as I took in the sight of him. Every inch of him was solid, fairly impenetrable. The air felt electric, charged with an unspoken tension between us both. “Bowser.”, I said, breaking the silence. “In the flesh.”, he replied, his voice surprisingly soft considering the mannerisms he had chosen to adopt. “Why am I here!?”, I demanded, rushing forward before meeting the resistance of the chains that held me fast. “I think the better question would be, why wouldn't you be? You've given me quite the headache, after all.” My eyes narrowed, “I did what I had to. But what I don't understand is why, instead of Princess Peach, you've decided to suddenly turn your sights on me.”

He chuckled, as if amused by what I'd said. “After Peach decided to rescue you and make you one of her guards, you've been nothing but a pain in my ass. But those days are over.” I cocked a brow at him, “Even so, you are no closer to getting what you want. My absence doesn't change the fact Mario and Luigi both are still in play. Or the fact that Princess Peach herself is.” “You know, after I captured you, I went back. The power-star is gone from the Mushroom Kingdom. And so is Princess Peach, along with her annoying companions.” His sharp claws curled around the iron bars, gleaming in the light cast by the torches. Bowser leaned forward, his ruby red eyes glowing in the dim lighting of the dungeon. “Yes, well, the affairs of the Mushroom Kingdom don't concern you.”

His eyes narrowed, his grip around the bars tightening. “Where did they go?”, he growled. 'Does he really expect me to tell him anything? Not that I am privy to the details to begin with.' Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell him. Silence reigned as we eyed one another. His patience wouldn't last forever. It wasn't a personality trait he possessed. Apprehension churned my stomach as his frown turned into a sickening grin. “Then, I suppose you will remain here. Either until you're ready to tell me what I need to know, or until Peach herself comes looking for you.” Rushing forward again, I grunted in annoyance as the chains prevented me from going further. “Screw you!”, I snapped, tossing my head back to move my hair from my face. I wanted him to see the anger in my eyes, to let him know he didn't scare me.

Without skipping a beat, as if it required zero effort from him, he bent the bars apart and stepped inside once the opening was large enough for him to pass through. I scrambled backward, intent on keeping what distance I could between us. Backing up until the wall behind me prevented me from retreating further, I pressed myself against the cold stone. Bowser took deliberate, measured steps forward until he loomed over me. My breath caught in my throat. It was one thing to face him in the open, with the ability to move about and fight back. Things were different when chains hampered any movement and the confines of a damp, dark cell restricted options of escape. Not to mention his hulking form that took up a good portion of the cell itself.

He reached out, as if he was going to touch me. Panic bubbled up under my skin, sending my heart rate through the roof. Eyes widening, I inhaled sharply and held my breath as I stared up at him. Alarm bells clanged in my head, mixing with the thundering sound of my heartbeat in my head. Surprise flickered across Bowser's face, and he stood there without moving an inch. “Fuckin' hell, where did all that fight you had go?” His voice was lower now, and lost it's edge. My chest rose and fell rapidly with each harried breath I took, unable to tear my eyes away from his. As if breaking eye contact would invite an attack. He squinted at me, eyes roaming my face as if to try and discern what had changed. With a deep breath, he lowered himself so we were on the same level.

“You touch me and I swear on every star in the galaxy it will be the last thing you do!”, I shouted, my whole body bristling. A lofty, bold threat that I had no way of carrying out at the moment. Askance, Bowser blinked as if still processing the switch in my demeanor. Realizing he wasn't going to move closer or try and touch me again, the tension and adrenaline left my body. I slumped forward, closing my eyes and exhaling a shaky breath. 'Get a hold of yourself. You've fought him without hesitation before...get a grip!' His gravelly voice interrupted my self-scolding. “Well, shit, I didn't want to scare you that badly.”, he muttered.

Tilting my head, I looked up at him. “Could've fooled me, acting as tough as you do.”, He added, still speaking in that softer tone. “Don't you dare try and act like you give two shits about anything but getting your hands on the power star, or your twisted desires for Princess Peach! Give it up already! She just doesn't want you! But you're too thick headed to get that! She's not into you! But instead of, oh I don't know, focusing on your own kingdom you keep inserting yourself into her life!” It all came tumbling out before I knew what I was saying, anger becoming a camouflage for my fear and embarrassment. “You can't bring yourself to acknowledge the facts! Your ego is larger than you are!” The more I spoke, the louder my voice rose.

“You're egotistical, you have a serious case of tunnel vision, you can't see the forest for the trees!”, I added, taking his stunned silence as a que to keep going. I didn't even know why I was saying half the things I was. At rock bottom, what did I have to lose? Someone needed to tell him, it may as well be me. Anything to prevent him from trying to use the fear I'd shown against me. His expression twisted into disbelief, and then anger. Instinctively, every muscle I had tensed. In a blink, a large fist buried itself into the wall next to my head. Claws digging into the wall with minimal resistance, stones from the wall giving way to his brute strength. I yelped, my eyes widening as I threw up my arms to shield my face. The outburst draining me of my anger as the icy grip of fear dug into me.

We were both breathing heavily; I could sense his outrage rolling off of him in massive, hot waves. His breath hitting my face as he leaned over me. My body trembled like a leaf despite my arrogantly brave words moments before. Bowser let out an irritated grunt, withdrawing his hand from the wall. Pebbles and small remnants of stone dropped to the floor of the cell, the noise of them falling causing me to flinch. Without a word, he stepped back, eyes locked on me. Lowering my hands from my pale face, I peered at him with an expression of shock and distrust. He turned and I side stepped to avoid his tail as he stomped out of the cell.

Throwing a single glance over his shoulder, his red eyes glowing in the shadows of the hallway of the dungeon, Bowser left without a word. Even with distance between us, I could feel his barely-contained anger. 'How am I not dead?' It wasn't until I could no longer hear his retreating footsteps that I allowed myself to fall to the floor of the cell. On my hands and knees, I gasped for air. Unaware I had been holding my breath the first place. 'I thought I was dead. That that was it.' Once again, my tongue could have been my undoing. Lifting my head, I stared at the gap in the bars of the cell. 'Why didn't he say anything?' Not one damn retort. Not one scathing reply. Not even a shout of anger or protest.

I sat up, my knees bent under me as I looked at the dent in the stonework of the wall. Unable to tear my eyes away from the evidence of his strength and ire. 'That could have been my face.' Unbidden, tears filled my eyes. I covered my face with my hands, unable to hold back the inexplicable rush of emotion. Curling up into a ball, I leaned into the wall and sobbed. 'Why didn't he? Where is Princess Peach? What is going on?' Countless questions tore at my subconsciousness. How had I gone from a random, everyday person one moment to someone locked up in the bowels of Bowser's castle? Memories of my past life seemed more like figments of my imagination as reality came crashing down around me. Allowing myself to feel the truth of the situation, I was in over my head. This wasn't my world. This wasn't the same game with the same rules I'd grown up with. I was in over my head, like an under-leveled and woefully unprepared player that stumbled across the endgame boss by accident. Princess Peach was going to be so disappointed in me.

….............

Bowser's POV:

Fear. That's all he could smell coming off her. Pure, unadulterated fear. Not at him, though. It couldn't be. He'd faced off against her before, numerous times when his attempts to reach Peach had been thwarted. Not once had the new-comer shown an ounce of fear back then. She'd proven herself to be every bit of brave (stupid but brave) as that red-clad bastard, Mario. What was more, he couldn't shake the words she'd hurled at him without batting an eyelash. Things no one had the gall to say to his face before. He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward as he sat upon his thrown. Staring ahead at nothing, his brows furrowed, expression unreadable. 'I'll burn that bridge when I come to it.', He decided. 'But for now...Peaches, where have you gone? What are you up to?'

The more he thought about it, the less clear anything was. He flexed his hands in irritation. The Mushroom Kingdom was unguarded. Nothing was stopping him from laying waste to it as a sort of calling card to Peach when she did inevitably return. She cared far too much about her Toads to just abandon them. The knot of unease in his gut grew, as did his anger. His hand curled into a tight fist, frustrated at the lack of answers. What could possibly have possessed Princess Peach up and leave her kingdom, placing it in the hands of an inexperienced and insolent fool of a guard? What's more, wherever the Princess had went, she had brought along those bumbling idiot brothers with her. He slowly ran a finger along his upper lip in thought, glaring at nothing across the thrown room.

Unbidden, an irked growl left him. “Kamek!”, He roared. “Yes, sire?”, the magikoopa materialized from seemingly no where. “When's the last time we heard from King Boo?” Surprise flickered across Kamek's face. Had the world suddenly gone mad? “King Boo, sire?”, he echoed. Bowser turned his head slowly toward him, lifting a brow in a manner that let it be known he wouldn't be repeating himself. “A-ah, well, it's been some time....I thought...I thought you two weren't on speaking terms?”, Kamek croaked nervously. “Find him. Find him now!”

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I am not crying. I have pencil shavings in my eyes. QAQ

Pls tell Greygold I love them and would die for them if asked

Greygold don't want anybody to self-sacrifice for any reason pretty please and thank you <:'D

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Yes I'm a fan of slow burns. You will suffer as you wait for even a crumb of affection. UwU

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Winds of Change (Chptr. 2)

(For lack of a better title for the series. Bare with me ya'll. I don't have much time to sit and edit unfortunately, but hopefully you will still enjoy this next bit for the Y/N x orc series)

“Y/N!” I stood on the very edge of the encampment, arms folded over my chest as I stared into the horizon. “Y/N! Please...” I rubbed my temples, slowly turning toward the harpy. “What?”, I asked, my voice tight. “It's been two days, how long are you going to be angry with me?”, Kili asked, his golden eyes eagerly searching my face. He stepped closer, his wings flicking forward as if to touch me. I moved back, and his wings slowly folded back into place. Kili kicked the snow, his talons gripping the cold substance tightly. “I know you're upset. But, please, I am simply asking for a chance to explain. It wasn't supposed to go this way....” My arms dropped to my sides, finding it hard to be angry with him. “Then, in your mind, how was this supposed to go?”, I asked softly.

Kili lifted his head. “Just for you both to work together. For a common cause, even if that cause is mutual distaste for your father. I was going to ask you while you were in Oldroll, and tell you everything there.” “Even then, what would you have done if I refused?” “It would have been simpler than it is now. I would have found a different way to aid the horde, and you wouldn't be here.”, Kili whispered. I lifted a brow. “But now?” Kili tilted his head, not following. “But now that I am here, am I supposed to stay as a prisoner?”, I asked, my voice rising. The harpy sighed, his wings drooping a little. “It's my fault, I can own that. I should have asked you first before I mentioned you to the Chief. Yes, you have to stay. There is no force in any of these lands that could stop them from finding you. Orcs are particularly headstrong, they don't give up and are relentless.”

I huffed, running a hand through my hair and wincing as my fingers caught in a tangle. “Kili, they can't keep me here forever.” Kili shifted his weight, his wings adjusting and settling back into place. “All I am saying, is that perhaps you both should talk again. Start over, and talk it out.” I glanced over my shoulder towards the encampment, spotting Hakak staring at us from a distance. There was no doubt that if I bolted he'd catch me without an issue. Looking back at Kili, I bit my lip. “Kili, my father never told me anything of importance about the war. I don't even know what to ask, or where to begin. My only concern is avoiding being hauled back to that castle. I don't...I don't want to go back there.” Kili hesitated, then gingerly wrapped a wing around my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I know, Y/N. Don't you think this is one way to achieve that? Think about it, all wars have to end at some point. Sometimes...sometimes solutions come through unconventional means.” I looked up at him.

“What do you mean? He wants to use me as a hostage. It's like the gods themselves are intent on my ass being locked back up in those stone walls. And I...I will not go back.”, my voice cracked as I turned toward him. Kili sighed shakily, wrapping his arms around me as he pulled me into a hug. He rested his chin on top of my head. “I know. I know. But there was another option, remember?”, he whispered. “What? Agree to being a hostage? Or being forced to be one? Not much of a choice, they end the same way.”, I grumbled into his feathers. “No. Agreeing to appear to be a hostage is much different than being an actual hostage.” “I don't follow.” My fingers curled into the soft down under his feathers. Kili didn't reply right away.

“It's true that you've been served a rather lack-luster selection of options. But if you work as an ally, you are not a prisoner. You'd have more room to make choices, for one thing. For another, they're an extremely loyal bunch. Saved my feathered ass a few times.”, Kili murmured, “So if you agreed to work with them, they'd likely not actually hand you over to your father. Do you see what I'm getting at?” I lifted my head and peered up at him. Kili looked down at me. “I hate being forced into things against my will. It still feels as if my freedom to actually chose is being taken away in this situation.” Kili made a series of low purr-esque noises, “Believe me, I am aware. I haven't forgotten the way you tore feathers out of me when I plucked you from that river.” I snorted, “To be fair, you scared the shit out of me. You were the first non-human I'd met.” “Like I was supposed to know you had a fear of heights. Next time I see someone in the process of drowning, I'll be sure to ask if they want to be saved before rescuing them.”, Kili replied, smirking as he slowly released me from the hug.

I ran my hands down the front of my tunic and short-skirt that I wore over leggings, then adjusted my winter cloak. “Kili, what even started this war?” Kili tilted his head, making a humming sound. “Perhaps you should ask the Chief that when you go talk with him.” I shot him a look, “Who said I was agreeing to going to talk to him?” The harpy grinned, “Because you can be quite reasonable when you want to be.” “He's an arse.”, I said noncommittally. “And so are you, but I'm still your friend.” I reached out and playfully shoved him. His wings fluttered as he recovered his balance, still grinning at me. “Fine. Fine! I'm going.”, I lifted my hands in the air, turning to head back into the encampment. Kili nodded, “I'll be back soon to make sure neither one of you has killed the other.”

“Wait, you're not coming with me? Where are you going?”, I asked, turning back to look at him. Kili winked, “I have my own set of tasks to do. You'll be fine. Just view him as a rather large, grouchy teddy bear or something.” I made a face, “Yeah...not going to happen. I don't recall any of my childhood toys wielding an axe, for one.” Kili snorted, hunching down before lifting off the ground with a push of his powerful wings. I covered my face as snow flew up around me. When it settled, I stood watching him as he flew off into the distance.

Heading back into the heart of the encampment, I tried to think of what to say. 'There is a lot I don't know about the war. Father was painfully vague about it when I still resided in the castle. Each story has two sides...', I frowned. What did I actually know? 'My lack of knowledge is biting me in the backside right now.' To be sure, I knew what people in the castle and the surrounding area said about orcs as a whole. And none of it was flattering. A violent group of people, comprised of several clans spread throughout the world, that made any seasoned soldier think twice before lifting their swords against them. My eyes narrowed as I walked, staring at the ground. 'Well, rumors are no stronger than wet paper in a storm. I need facts. I need the truth. If anything, I need to hear his side. Who knows what my father may have been hiding from me? Once I know, I will chose what to do next.'

I glanced up as I passed Hakak, who was staring at me without attempting to hide it. “Uh...Sorry. Do you know where the Chief is? Is he busy? I'd like to speak with him and I didn't want to simply waltz in there unannounced...”, I explained, my nerves causing me to stutter. He paused, then nodded. “Sure.” He began walking, and I stared after him before hurrying to catch up to him. “You don't talk much.”, I pointed out. “There isn't a need to.” There was a pause. “Besides, he speaks more than enough for both of us.”, Hakak added. I stared up at him with wide eyes, then burst out laughing. “Wait, what? You make it sound as if you're siblings.” “We are.” I stopped in my tracks. Noticing immediately that I had come to a halt, Hakak turned and faced me. “What?”, he eyed me. “You're serious?”, I gawked at this new information. “I am the youngest by two years.” He shrugged and started walking again.

I blinked rapidly as I caught up to him. “I'm sorry. I know siblings can be different from each other..but..for some reason, I just didn't expect that.” Hakak shrugged again. We reached the tent I'd been shown into the first day, and he announced something in orcish. There was a pause, and then a reply. “I really have got to learn orcish...”, I muttered under my breath as Hakak opened the tent flap for me. He let it drop into place after I entered, not following me inside. I waited for my eyes to adjust, and when they did, I spotted Mokoa standing over the table. His attention was glued to what looked to be a scattering of papers and a map that laid over the top of them. “Are we going to talk? Or waste time?”, he said without looking up.

I pursed my lips together, holding back a retort. “I'm interested in an actual conversation, yes.” “Speak.”, He waved his hand, gesturing to a seat across from him. The Chief's eyes remained on the map. Without hesitation, I walked forward and sat down. I looked from him, to the exit, and then back to him. “I will admit I am at a disadvantage when it comes to knowing anything in regards to the war. I can't really help you there, as my father was determined to keep me in the dark.”, I said. “Did you ever think there was a reason for that?” “Of course. But any time I pressed him too hard about it, he'd threaten to send me away...and later, to marry me off. Hardly ideal.” Mokoa straightened, finally looking at me. “You're a lady right? Of rank, don't look at me that way when you know what I meant. It seems strange how, knowing that you'd be in a position of leadership in the future, that he seemed to keep you in the dark when it came to political conversation. Wouldn't it be better to instead use it as a way to prepare you for the future?”

I scoffed, “Please. The only 'position of leadership' that was awaiting me there was over the kitchen.” He smirked, then shook his head. “Your people are...odd.” He hesitated, then said, “Truth be told, my father was the one who originally facing yours on the battlefield at the start.” I sat back, digesting this information. Come to think of it, he didn't appear to be much older than I was. My heart sank as it dawned on me. Before I could ask, he answered. “He died, yes. As did my mother.” “Both? On the battlefield? Both of them?”, I asked incredulously. “That is what I said.”, His voice was tight. “Both.”, I repeated. He pointed at me, “That's not what we're here to discuss, though. Is it?”

'Alright. Understandably a touchy subject.' “Right. Kili helped me...see things in a slightly different light. If I agreed to help you, what would that entail? What's the entire plan?” “The idea is simple, really. Send a message to your father. We have you hostage, something along those lines. He wants to get you back, so doubtless he'll come running.”, Mokoa shrugged. It seemed to be a gesture that both he and his brother used often. “You're thinking of an ambush? Don't you think he will see through that?” “We're planning on it.”, Mokoa replied. I was left feeling more confused. “Explain.” “Not until I am sure you're fully on board.” “I am! I am no fan of my father's. And clearly, you aren't either.” “There is a difference between familial disagreements and...this. You both may disagree on the color of a dress, but that doesn't compare to being prepared to spill each other's blood during a war. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

We stared at each other. I dug my nails into the edges of my seat, unable to fully hide the anger simmering below the surface. My face soured, brows knitting together. “I do not have to explain what my father has done to make me hate him, but believe me- if he behaved as dishonorably in battle as I've witnessed him behave in the castle, then there will be no second thoughts on my end.” Every word I spoke was laced with venom. Mokoa raised a brow, straightening as he studied me. After several minutes, he spoke in a low tone. “Then tell me why you were so hesitant to agree to help when you were first brought here.” “Because I was tied up and KIDNAPPED!” “Interesting choice of words. I would have used 'rescued', personally.” He had me there.

“You could have let me go the moment I was brought here.” “I would have, but then I learned who you were. There was a change of plans.”, he said. “Do you want my help or not?” “You're acting as if you have a choice. Either way, you will be fulfilling your role as bait. The choice you do have is if you're going to do it willingly. If you do, then I promise I will not let your father take you back to that castle.” I almost hesitated to ask, listening to the sound of my heart beat pounding in my head. “And if I don't?” When he didn't answer, I huffed loudly. “I already said I would help. I don't know what you want me to do to prove that I am with you on this.” “You said you don't know what your father has done, correct?” I blinked. “Correct.”, I answered cautiously.

“Then allow me to enlighten you.”, the Chief said, leaning back. I exhaled slowly, “You'll tell me everything?” His eyes narrowed, as if he was weighing something in his mind. “Everything.”, he agreed after a beat. “You'll leave nothing out?”, I asked. He flexed his hands a moment. “Nothing.” I relaxed, trying to ignore the anxiety settling in my chest. The way he was speaking made me hesitate. But, I wanted to know. Needed to know. “Then sit there and listen.”, he said, taking a seat as he braced his arms on the table between us and leaned forward. His expression was grim. Chills danced along my spine as I braced myself for what I was about to hear.

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Hubby: *after listening to me talk about Karniss* oh yeah I killed him. I kill everyone.

Me: ....I am....taking away your sword privileges. All I want to do is give him a pat on the head, send him to therapy, tell him where he is a bit wrong, give him a blanket and stuffed animal and hot cocoa in a pink mug.

Hubby: I am THE murder hobo. (A nickname his DM gave him).

Hubby (later): fine. We'll sneak some cocoa onto him.

Me (squinting) "onto" him? We are not pouring the hot cocoa on him

Hubby: fuck. Saw right through that.

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In the last playthrough, I suddenly got really into this drider. It's a pity that he cannot be included in the party and didn't even play a particularly big role in the plot. Ooh, but how great was his potential. >_<

While I was drawing him, I thought that with this lantern (the only thing that can disperse the coming darkness) and the crazy preacher’s speeches, he would be a very cool secondary boss ...

With a big spider lair in the church, where adventurers were to be constantly stuck in the web forced to fight off not only spiders, but also the approaching darkness. With the same insane flock, half consisting of spiders capable of burrowing and unexpectedly attacking from a huge number of crevices/cracks/caves. And, of course, with great emphasis on the cult of the Absolute, and not Myrkul and the rest of the Trinity. It would be ironic if a new "divine essence" actually took root and began to form there, coming into direct confrontation with the Trinity...

... But okay, I got a little carried away.

I'm quietly "warming up" after the holidays and starting the year again by drawing a wallpaper, but this time for the phone. (last one was a Hastur for the computer) / Well, also, a couple of variations with spiders separate from each other.

P.S. - also add a process... cause I can \(￣︶￣*\))

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srsly, how does the spooder sleep?

This was fun, so lets make another!

There were so many more possibilities and ideas, I had to give this another go. First post

Sleeping leaned against solid surface Sadly this one seems very plausible to me :( Poor spider is overworked give him a break! totally @unknownf s idea

Spider loaf! Tucked in like a little kitty cat. His legs are still everywhere. Standing up is going to be a struggle . (or he just goes sproing! and jumps up)

Spider silk hammok Looks comfy. Is comfy. But we don't actually know if he can even make webs...

... a bed? with lots of pillows... and... a plush.. . and... ah &lt;3

Larian please let me tuck this sad spider into a bed ;-;

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welp

(Disclaimer- this was just an idea I had that I wanted to whip up. And I haven't wrote a thing in years. So this is probably horrible, lol! But this is a fiction, a Y/N x orc fiction that I have had simmering in the back of my mind a while. I may add more or who knows. Depends on if anyone is wanting more ^^.)

The frosty air of mid-winter was sharp and bitter, but not as bitter as my heart. Nor as sharp or rough as the ropes that bound my hands behind my back. “Stand! Do not try anything. It would be a waste of your life.”, a gruff, gravelly voice sliced through my thoughts. I stared at the snow, sitting upon my knees without moving. “Up. Now. There will be no further warning.”, the voice said. I lifted my head, my gaze sliding upward from his boots to his face. He was tall and built like a stone wall. I'd have better chances of fighting an actual wall than this warrior. He narrowed his amber eyes, studying me just as intently. We sized each other up. As he laid his hand to causally rest upon his weapon, I finally moved. Standing up, I glared at the orc. My captor. “There is no sense in me asking where you are taking me, is there?”, I asked, my voice soft. He grunted, then stepped toward me as if to force me to start walking.

“No need. I will follow. I highly doubt I'd get far should I attempt to run, all things considered.”, I turned away to dodge his grasp. Our eyes locked. Finally, he nodded, making a gesture with his hand for me to come along. Noting that his other hand still rested on the handle of his weapon, my steps quickened until I was walking alongside him. “You speak the Shared Tongue.”, I murmured, glancing up at him as we walked through their encampment. I hadn't expected it, but I was grateful for that fact I could talk to someone. “Silence.” I rolled my eyes at his short answer. Deciding that any attempts at conversation was going to yield little in the way of response, I shut my mouth. My eyes scanned the organized rows and formations of the thick-walled tents. There were various tasks being done around the encampment, and the stares thrown my way didn't escape my notice. I felt my skin crawl, as the further we walked the more it dawned on me that I was truly stuck. Caught, with my fate in the hands of strangers.

Wind blew past us, it's howling creating an eerie ambient in the trees that shielded the encampment. I shivered, looking down at the ground. My ears locked onto the sound of his footsteps and mine crunching softly in the snow. 'I don't know what to do. If I run, I will likely die. If I stay...I could still end up dead...' There would be a certain idiotic bravery to attempting to run. Short lived idiotic bravery. Some would call it cowardice. 'I'd call it staying alive...' There was nothing telling me that I would be killed if I stayed, and continued to obey like a trained dog, though. 'There is simply no telling. Unfortunately, even if I ran.....their damn wargs would have me in an instant. Maybe waiting to see what happens would be the best option.'

A voice carrying on the wind arrested my attention. I looked up, peering around my escort. A group of orcs and a male harpy were standing around near a tent, urgently discussing something. It was an unusual sight, several orc warriors and a tall harpy in what seemed to be a heated debate. My heart raced as the sight of white and black speckled plumage fully registered. 'It can't be...It is!' Without thinking, I rushed forward, ducking out of reach of the warrior that I'd been following. “Kili!”, I shouted. The harpy turned his head sharply toward me, surprise and confusion on his face as he finally spotted me running toward him. I continued my mad dash towards my friend, only to yelp in surprise when I was lifted off my feet. “Hey!”, I shouted, looking back at the orc I had darted away from.

Kili and the group of warriors were all watching the scene unfold. I kicked my legs in the air, protesting, as I was unceremoniously tossed over the first orc's shoulders. “HEY! Do I look like a sack of potatoes to you?! Put me down!”, I demanded. “If you run like that again-”, he began, slowly setting me back down. “Yeah, yeah – you'll feed me to a warg or whatever.”, I glared at him. At this point, Kili had joined us, leaving the conversation he'd been a part of. “Kili!”, I felt relief flood through me. Kili tilted his head, then looked up at the warrior behind me. “Hakak?”, he eyed the orc, clearly waiting for some sort of explanation. Hakak sighed heavily, as if he was already tired of dealing with the harpy and I both. “We found her chained up to the axle of a cart, toward Val'k lake. You know this..woman?”, the orc asked. Kili nodded his head slowly, “I do. But...what confuses me, is that I left her two weeks ago in--” I broke in, “Anyway, he and I know each other. He saved my life once. He knows me!” Both men narrowed their eyes at me for different reasons. “Ul kri-krisur wanavuk avo avalk lav-li.”, Hakak paused and glanced down at me, then back at Kili. I frowned, “Kili? The hell did he just say?”

Not being able to speak a lick of orcish put me at a disadvantage, to say the least. Kili made a face. “I see. Afterwards, may I talk with her?” My frown deepened. “Hey, feathers, don't ignore me.”, I hissed. 'Why is Kili acting so weird?' Kili shook his head once at me. “Y/N, it's fine. And for the love of the nine realms, don't do anything rash.” Hakak shifted his weight, seemingly impatient to get going. “We'll see.”, the orc finally said. Kili bit his lip, his talons flexing in the snow. “Very well.”, Kili said, his tone neutral. I watched in disbelief as Kili gave me a small smile and stepped aside. Hakak urged me forward, and I turned my head to stare back at the harpy. Kili quickly mouthed, gesturing with his wings, 'Just calm down.'

To keep from tripping, I was forced to look ahead again. Hakak led me past the group of warriors that Kili had been talking with and into a tent. He said something in orcish, and then another deep voice responded. Frustration boiled up inside of me, but I held my peace as I was ushered unceremoniously into the tent. Hakak stood to the side, leaving me to stand awkwardly near the center of the tent. My eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the tent and I frowned. Another orc was standing on the other side of a table, his arms folded over his broad chest. His dark hair was braided in multiple different braids, and his amber-colored eyes were boring into mine. He had a smaller, fresher nick along his chin. There were three risen scars that ran horizontally across his right cheek, and a smaller one that ran vertically over the right side of his bottom lip, just past the tusk on that side. My gaze wandered. There were a lot of scars, a lot of reminders of past battles; at certain points under his collar and armor, I could make out glimpses of what looked to be markings of ink. I tilted my head. He suddenly cleared his throat, making me jump.

“Are you finished?”, he asked, smirking. Despite my best effort to hide it, I still felt heat creep along my face. I barely dared to breathe, staring hard at the floor of the tent as if it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen. “Hakak told me he found you. At the lake, chained up underneath a wooden cart. Yet, there were no other humans around. Care to explain?”, He prompted, absentmindedly scratching his beard. “Well...there's not much to tell. I..uh..ran a fowl of some men at a...tavern.”, I stammered. He leaned forward over the table, his large hands laying flat against the wooden surface. “Try again.”, he said in a low tone. I could feel his eyes on me. 'Crap.' It hadn't been a well thought out lie, considering the nearest human settlement was located more than two weeks away. “I fail to see how anything about me is any of your concern. Just who are you, anyway?”, I shot back with sudden bravery, drawing myself up as much as my height would allow.

He chuckled softly, but there was no humor in the sound. “I'd say it's my concern.”, he lifted his right hand and flicked his fingers toward him in a 'hurry-up, come on' sort of gesture. “You didn't tell me who you are.”, I reminded, allowing my embarrassment over being caught staring to turn into defiance. “Considering you still have your tongue, I suggest you use it wisely...before that changes.” My chest tightened, my hands balling into fists behind my back. The ropes that bound them still remained immovable. “Fine. I wasn't lying about running afoul of someone...”, I paused. “Look, I really can't....”, I tried again. My shoulders sagged as I sighed, closing my eyes. There was the sound of movement and I hurriedly looked up. He was about to walk around the table, only stopping when our eyes met. “Okay! Okay...I am Y/N, the daughter of Lord Vyn Prudvaelk. I...ran away from home a few years back. And apparently, my father is still looking to get his grubby hands on me. A few of his men caught word of where I'd been, and caught up to me in Oldroll, that settlement that's a few weeks ride away from Val'k Lake. It led to a chase and they caught up to me.”

I clamped my mouth shut, hating to admit a single word of this to anyone. “Ah, I have heard of you. You're the one Kili has mentioned to me before.”, the orc murmured as if to himself, looking lost in thought. Surprised, I stared at him again. 'Kili has mentioned me to him? Why?' I wanted to ask, but wasn't in a rush to break the silence. It provided me with an opportunity to gather my own thoughts. “Kili told me a while back about a friend of his that was on the run, and who may prove to be useful.” 'Me? Useful? To them? How?', I wondered. All of this felt too convenient, or maybe I was too suspicious toward strangers. “I am aware you must have many questions. Namely, who I am, and what is going to happen to you.”,he finally said. Now we were getting somewhere.

He leaned against one of the wooden, load-baring posts of the tent. It caused the walls to move a bit, but they held. “Yeah. For starters, anyway.”, I admitted. “I am Mokoa. Chieftain of this clan.” My jaw slackened, but if he noted my surprise he didn't say a word. 'Ah, crap. Not him!' Backing up until I hit the farthest wall of the tent, I kept my eyes pinned on him. Now it made sense. 'Kili! You dumb-ass!' “Then you know all too well who my father is.”, I hissed, my eyes narrowing in accusation. Mokoa lifted his hands, “Calm down. We can still talk this though like adults.” “Fuck that!”, I shouted, turning and bolting for the exit of the tent. With startling agility, the Chieftain vaulted over the desk, reaching the exit a fraction of a second before me. His solid frame blocking my escape. “That is the opposite of what I just suggested, Y/N.”, Mokoa said, peering down at me.

“You slaughtered his men at Revalti Pass...you and my father have been butting heads for years.”, I breathed. “There is more to it than that, don't insult either of our intellects. We both know things aren't that black and white.” My breathing amped up as I glared at him. “Did it ever occur to you that perhaps you were aware of only half the story?”, his voice held an edge to it. I opened my mouth, then promptly shut it again. I took several steps back, putting space between us. “Yes, I am aware that each story has it's sides.”, I said softly. Silence. Mokoa sighed heavily, hands on his hips. “For now, we need to discuss what to do with you.” My head jerked up, my brow furrowing as I tried to decipher what he was thinking.

“We could kill you.”, he suddenly said, tapping his chin as if considering it. My face went blank as I stared at him owlishly. Mokoa laughed, a deep, rich sound. “Gods, you are easy to mess with. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't waste my breath talking to you.” “You talk a lot.”, I muttered, “If you aren't going to kill me, then can I leave?” He grinned down at me, “What do you think?” My heart stopped in my chest, plummeting into my stomach. “You can't keep me here! On what grounds?”, I demanded, my hoarse. His grin disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “For the simple fact that your father is Lord Vyn Prudvaelk. Seeing as how you've ran away from home to begin with, though, that shouldn't bother you. However, it does provide me with some leverage.” 'Was that what he meant...what Kili meant...when they said I could prove to be useful to them?!' I ground my teeth, shaking with anger as I digested the situation.

“Your reason for wanting to keep me here is because you want to use me as a hostage?”, I seethed. “If necessary.”, he nodded his head. I tried to break free from the rope that held my hands together, grunting and huffing as all my efforts proved fruitless. Mokoa reached out, grasping my shoulder and spinning around. “Hey! What-”. My eyes widened as he unsheathed a knife from it's place on his belt. Giving me a look, he held my shoulder firmly as he sliced through the rope. Once he let go of my shoulder, I whirled around to face him. Mokoa put the knife away, lifting a brow. “Why?”, I asked. “Because watching you flop around like a fish was pathetic.”, he said dryly.

The more time I spent around him, the more I decided I hated him. “This doesn't make sense...there was no way for you to even know that I'd be in this region, let alone at that lake.”, I said, rubbing my wrists where the rope had dug into my skin. “At least, we knew you were at Oldroll. You can thank Kili for that.” “Fuck him, and fuck you.”, I said. 'I can't believe Kili would do such a thing. It doesn't sound like him. Unless, I didn't know him at all to begin with..' Was our entire friendship a lie? The Chief let out a breath, “He had his reasons. I have mine. Truth be told, we were just going to ask you and avoid going down this path.” “What, and you think that I would have just agreed to help you or be bait or something?”, my head shook in disbelief at what I was hearing.

“Go with whatever one makes you happier. There's no love lost between you and your father.”, Mokoa shrugged his shoulders. “So that magically makes it fine to use me? Is that it?”, I tossed my hands in the air and let them fall back to my sides. He ran his hand down his beard, looking as frustrated as I felt. “No. I had hoped to work with you as an ally. But it's increasingly clear that the ship has sailed on that option.” “You're damned right about that.”, I growled. Mokoa stepped to the side, allowing me access to the tent's exit. “You're not leaving the encampment. That's not happening. You try to run, and we'll hunt you down.”, he muttered, grabbing me by the upper arm as I was leaving. “Let go of me.”, I said, my voice steely. Mokoa's eyes flashed, but he slowly relinquished his grip on me. Holding open the flap of the tent, he addressed Hakak, who had been waiting nearby. “If she runs..”, Mokoa began. Hakak nodded, “Understood.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing past the Chief. I began walking away, Hakak not far behind. Kili looked up from where he had been sitting, still talking with the warriors from before. He made to move, as if he was going to get up to come talk to me. I pointed at him across the space between us, “Not now!” Kili hesitated, then wordlessly sat back down. His feathers poofed up, looking a bit ashamed and irritated. I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere would be fine as long as I could have a few minutes to think.

........

(And that's where I will leave it for now! I have no clue what I'm doing, but that's part of the fun. My writings I don't ever plan to have N$FW, but that can change. This blog is 18+, however, if I ever decide to delve into adult or darker topics, I will tag them. If I do, and forget a tag, just let me know so I can add it. I want everyone safe! And because this blog is 18+, my writing is for adult audiences regardless of N$FW scenes or not. Thank you. You are responsible for your online experience beyond that.)

[cryptids-streaming]

Artist: https://twitter.com/sssamico

[cryptids-streaming]

I've been trying to write and somehow it devolved into a conversation between my S/O and I about how orcs have trust issues. It still counts as research. >:0

[cryptids-streaming]

I think about these things all the time. Glad I'm not the only one!

Do the orcs mourn? Somewhere far away from the battlefields, in cities that the scribes of humans and dwarves will never care to know? Do they count their dead returning home, tell stories of them, do they have to tell their warrior's freinds and families that they've gone to a place they'll never return?

Do they tell stories of humans? Of pale skinny creatures, with white eyes, and hair on their faces, with teeth as blunt as a bull's and strange heraldry on their shields? Do they wonder what dark wizard must have created such a strange distortion of their forms? Do they wonder what darkness spawned the cruelty of creatures that killed all not of their kind who they captured, and who burnt all traces of them in their lands. Do they speak the names of our heros to their children to frighten them?

Do they fear the few humans they fight alongside? Wondering where their true loyalties lay? Do they see them as some of the few of their kind to have mercy? Do they see them as more dangerous and brutal then themselves.

Do orcs fear traveling alone in strange lands? Where there may be human adventurers, the mercenaries weilding eldrich weapons that humans call heroes, on the hunt? Could they feel anything else?

[cryptids-streaming]

Just gonna put this here. Because seriously one of the best I've read. This series is just fnfjfjgj amazing

Chapter 10

Prologue | Previous | Next

AN: No you are not dreaming, I'm actually posting another chapter. Thank you all for being so patient with me this past year. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. 🌻

Warning(s): Brief talk of self-mutilation

It only took a week for Talnir to lay down the first layer of snow. The tan of the dying grass was sprinkled with snow and frost. Only to be turned into mud beneath people’s feet that same day. Despite being from a considerably warmer climate, the horde was not deterred. They donned extra layers without being told and helped the rest of the camp as they prepared for winter. The beginning of the winter rush was nothing new to you. And like most years you busied yourself with making tinctures, salves, and medicines. Making sure to use all ingredients you know would spoil if not used soon. 

  While you were busy preparing for a winter full of illness, Kurakh started a project of his own. He would leave once his food was devoured every morning and wouldn't return to your shared quarters until the last meal. You barely saw him around camp, nor did either of you speak unless necessary. It took five days for you to lose your mind because of the silence. Opting to work in the main hall with other camp members who wanted to hide away from the harsh wind.

  The main hall always brought a small smile to your face. The rebel's and the horde's children play together in the middle of the room. An Orcish woman helping braid the tail of an older Centaur. The Dwarves assess broken blades of all kinds. An Elven man was teaching a group of teenagers how to build arrows. Everyone sat in groups, no matter their race. Across the hall, you could see Schelura doing the hair of a younger Orc woman. The intricate style was already full of beads by the time you made your way over. 

  “Oh hello,” Schelura smiles and motions to an empty spot on the table, “have a seat.” You set your tools on the table and sit down, openly staring at Schelura’s handiwork. “Do you want to be next?” 

  “It’s tempting, although that’s a lot of beads…” 

  “She’s trying to catch a young warrior’s eye… Maybe you need this style too,” she teases. 

  “You’re ridiculous,” you roll your eyes. 

  “And you’re blind,” Schelura scoffs. “This is a more traditional plait since his parents are more set in the old ways. I’d give you something different… What do normal Vorren women do with their hair?” 

  "We usually just weave ribbon into our braids. Our hair is usually covered because you're clergy, or due to the cold."

  "Such practical people."  You roll your eyes at her comment and begin measuring out your ingredients. Schelura and the girl start to gossip while you ignore them to focus on the task at hand. "And Kurakh is away checking and setting up traps all day. I wonder what he's trying to catch, he comes back nearly every night looking frustrated." 

"Wait that's why he's gone all day," you look up from your herbs. 

The younger girl turns her head as much as Schelura would allow, "you didn't know?" 

Schelura laughs, "somebody might be getting a gift soon" 

"A courting gift, now that's romantic," the younger orc swoons. 

"Oh I don-" 

"He hasn't told you about it, he's gone all day, and he's constantly frustrated things aren't going as planned. If it isn't a courting gift, I permit you to cut off my hand," Schelura deadpans. 

 "You know I wouldn't do that unless it was at serious risk of infection or severely mangled ." 

  "Maid, that is not the point I am trying to make," she scoffs at your logic. You didn't even get to properly glare before she scolded you, "don't even look at me like that! Kurakh is one of the easiest men to read, like a warg pup."

"I don't even know what a warg pup looks like Schelura," an exasperated sigh leaves your lips.

"Cuter than you'd expect," the younger girl smiles while Schelura repositions her head. "I also heard he threatened a Tiefling in the courtyard yesterday for disrespecting you." 

  "That sounds likely,” Schelura smirks. 

  "You've made your point very clear Schelura," you roll your eyes and refocus on your craft. 

  "Then you should make sure Kurakh is aware that you know. He needs to know if you reciprocate or not. Not knowing is currently driving him crazy. And if you don’t want his advances he should know before he goes too far.”

  “And how do I do that?” 

  Schelura smirks, “you can start by letting me do your hair.” 

  "I'd rather not think of my hair, it has been so long since I washed it last. " 

  "You haven't gone to the hot springs yet?" 

  "And have strangers see me bare," you flush at the thought. 

  "The girls and I could go with you, and if we go in the evening there shouldn’t be that many people." 

  "I would appreciate the company," a rare smile graces your lips. 

  "We'll go tonight, I've been dying to wash off with something other than cold water." That evening you dropped Mazna off with Roldza, luckily without much fuss. And you left a note for Kurakh since he had yet to return. With your only clean change of clothes and bath oil in hand, you meet the girls in the hall. Maaga and Galta were both equally excited to relax in the warm waters that lie further within the former mine. Like Schelura said there was hardly a soul in the springs. Only a few elven girls sat in one of the smaller pools, applying oils to their hair. 

  With the safety of only being surrounded by women making you more confident you begin to undress. Schelura was the first one in, with a massive smile on her face, "definitely better than cold water and a bucket." You slowly follow in behind her, minding your steps on the slippery rocks beneath you. The water was certainly warmer than any water you bathed with before. After waiting a few minutes, thankfully there was nothing within the water that would irritate your wound. You take the chance to properly inspect it, not having to hide in the shadows from Kurakh. 

  "Is it still bothering you," Maaga asks concerned. 

  "Not as much as it used to, it'll be an awful scar." 

  "There is no such thing as awful scars in our culture," Galta chuckles. "I mean just look at Kurakh. Blind in one eye from one and littered with dozens smaller than that. And Orkisch women swoon over him every day... Well, the ones who don't know him like we do."   

  "Men can be scarred all they want in my culture, but for women it's unsightly."

  "The more I learn about your culture the more it pisses me off," Maaga groans. 

  "How do you think I feel," you scoff and sit on a rock in the water. The warm, mineral-rich water goes up to your shoulders. Galta dunks herself beneath the water with a smile. The whispers of the Elven girls were welcomed in comparison to the noise of the main hall, or Mazna throwing a fit. You slowly sink below the surface after getting more accustomed to the water temperature. The voices above you became louder, and you could practically feel the grime melt away.

  The light burn in your lungs prompted you to stand again. The water trickled down your back as you wiped your face. The cold air of the cavern causes goosebumps to bud across your skin. Once the water was out of your eyes you refocused on the rocks ahead. Trying not to stare at anyone in particular. Schelura scoffs and moves beside you, trying to run her fingers through your soaked hair. "This won't do... Don't worry I brought tools for this." She reaches for her comb and motions for you to sit on the rocks again. 

  "I can brush my hair." 

  "I'm aware, but I need to prep it for braiding tomorrow." 

  "Fine," you sigh and try to relax as she works the comb through the ends of your hair. Luckily it felt much better than Mazna playing with your hair at night. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Schelura reach for the pool edge again, followed by a light herbal smell. "What's that?" 

  "A hair oil," she hums as her hands gently massage your scalp. "Your hair is damaged from the fabric of your headcover. It is too rough... I might need to make you something stronger. You also need a trim; your ends are a mess." 

  "I get it, my hair is awful." 

  "It just needs more than a hairbrush," Schelura chuckles. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," she emphasizes by massaging the back of your neck. You couldn't help but hum in relief, fighting not to melt into her touch. "your muscles are just as stiff as the warriors. You know, for a healer you are terrible at taking care of yourself." 

  An ache settled in your stomach. Schelura was one of many people to point it out to you. Usually, you'd be able to blame it on your duty. The life of a Maid of Eia was busy, even before the King declared war. Maaga seemed to sense this ache, moving closer to the two of you, "so how long until we have snow up to our knees?" 

  You smile softly as you welcome the distraction, "I'd say another month. It's supposed to be a late winter this year. Or as we say in the clergy, Talnir is lazy this year." 

  "Talnir?" 

  "The Spirit of Winter, son of Sokastr and Sala." 

  Galta laughs, "because that explains so much." 

  "The number of deities your people have is ridiculous," Maaga chuckles before dipping her head below water. 

  "It's a lot to remember," you sigh as Schelura's hands leave your scalp. "Honestly I forget most of it now. Just the stories we were told as kids. And the weird stuff you can't forget how much you try." 

  "How weird," Maaga looked apprehensive to ask. 

  "Eia's parents are aunt and nephew." 

  "That's not too bad," Galta relaxes against the pool's edge with her eyes closed. 

  "When creating their children, the elder gods forgot about procreation. So, the new gods had to create their genitalia. Eia took it upon herself to create the females by cutting herself open. Using her muscles to create a womb, and cutting between her legs. Hence the monthly cycle and the pain of childbirth." Galta and Maaga wince, and Schelura groans. "Want to know how Lantes created male gen-" 

  "Absolutely not."

  "Don't even dare." 

  "I'm close enough to push you underwater." Despite the threats you all laugh. A rare deep belly laugh escapes you. It has been so long since you've laughed like that it almost scared you. The good mood carried through as the four of you finished bathing. You felt the most relaxed and clean you've been in ages.  The clean change of clothes felt heavenly against your skin. Per Schelura's orders, your damp hair flowed down your back as it air-dried. The only bad thing was that you now needed to launder your only other set of clothes. 

  You returned to your quarters with your things in your arms, greeted by the smell of food cooking. Kurakh looks up from the pot but doesn't say anything. His good eye was looking you up and down. His silence was killing you, “is something wrong?” 

  “The scouts spotted a battalion just north of us. We'll ride out before dawn to intercept them." 

  "I should probably pack my supplies-" 

  "You're staying here." 

  "Kurakh, I can be careful." 

  "You are what they want. It would be surrender if you came with." You knew this tone well, Kurakh's words were final. And you didn't want to ruin your evening by wasting your breath. "That was easier than I expected," he smirks.

  "I don't feel like ruining my good mood," you set the dirty clothes in the corner. Hopefully, you won't forget them come morning. Kurakh doesn't say anything, choosing to stare at your hair instead. "Will you at least wake me up before you leave?" 

  "Of course, Odmili," he motions for you to sit. "The stew is almost ready." 

  "Rabbit?" 

  "They are plentiful here." 

  "I fear you will run out of recipes before you run out of rabbits," you sit cross-legged beside him on the bedroll. He breathes out a laugh while handing you a bowl. A plate of Freronbrod on the ground beside the two of you.

  "Your kingdom will run out of rabbits before the horde is full." 

  "Your fault for coming in the winter," you snicker as you dip your bread in the stew. Kurakh elbows you in the rib playfully, his worried expression having finally worn away. You smack him in the chest as retaliation, a challenging look in your eyes. For once you didn't recognize the expression on his face. He looked conflicted like something was holding him back. His eye goes back to your hair, nose twitching. "What?" 

  "It's nothing."

"Considering the face you're making; I highly doubt that. Is it my hair?" 

   "Not necessarily... What oil did they put in your hair?" 

  "I don’t know. Schelura only scolded me for how unhealthy my hair is." 

  "That makes sense. I think Schelura is trying to make a fool of you." 

  "What do you mean?" 

  Kurakh sighs, "Orcs have a stronger sense of smell. Because of that, hair and body oils tend to have different meanings. And the one Schelura used on you… Well, it’s supposed to be seductive." 

  Immediately blood rushes to your cheeks, “you can’t be serious.” 

  “I wish I weren’t,” his lips parted as he tried breathing more through his mouth. 

  “I can go sleep with the girls tonight, considering they’re the ones who got me into this mess.” 

  “No,” Kurakh said rather quickly, “I can handle it.” He smiles sheepishly and continues to eat his soup. You decided not to press any further and do the same. Once the two of you finished eating you took it upon yourself to clear up the dishes. 

  “Do you have anything that needs to be laundered? I’ll be cleaning my spare clothes tomorrow.” 

  “I’ll leave a few things on the pile you’ve made. I know Mazna has a few tunics as well.” There was a quiet hiss of a blade leaving its sheath from behind you, soon followed by it scrapping the whetstone. “Do you not have any more clothes?” 

  You glance over your shoulder, hands still in the tub of cold soapy water used for cleaning, “I do not.” Stew was easy to clean off the wooden bowls, you hardly needed to look at what you were doing. “Clergy life is not as luxurious as people think. I had my own room, but it was tiny and drafty. The library barely had anything other than medical tomes. Three flavorless meals a day. We had no days off because ailments and childbirth don’t care for the calendar. And I would be lucky to get a new apron for my birthday.”  

  “Just enough to keep you from complaining about working for no pay I presume?” 

  “A twenty-pence on high holidays, which there are five of in a year,” anger made itself known in your gut. Stomach turning as you tried to ignore it, “it would take me three years to make enough for taxes. Luckily I don’t have to pay taxes. But I do have to catch a deadly disease, get robbed while traveling from town to town, never see my family again, or get captured by the enemy in a pointless war!” The scraping of the blade stops and so do you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” 

  Kurakh motions for you to return to the bed roll. Patiently waiting as you dump the dirty water into the floor drain. “I wish you would stop apologizing for being your true self.” You pause and open your mouth to rebut, yet nothing comes out. “It is as if you are playing a character,” he gently takes your hand to pull you closer. “When I see that fire in your eyes, I’m reassured that there is a real person hidden within. You need to break free.” 

  “Kurakh, I hardly know how,” the words barely above a whisper. 

  “We can teach you. Remember you are one with the horde now, and we take care of our own.” 

[cryptids-streaming]

[cryptids-streaming]

Just uploaded this zine (nsfw) on itch.io!! Have a look if you’re interested✨

(I was so nervous about publishing this but I did it 😵🫶)