#he catches her scent and it’s putrid. bile catches in his throat. he seeks it out. still in denial to what he knows it means.

[sunmoontruth-stiles]

I need a completely rewritten teen wolf series with Derek Hale as the main character. I think it would heal me.

#we follow Derek from New York. Laura left for beacon hills. it’s been six years since he was back but he hasn’t heard from her #and hes going stir crazy waiting. he packs up and travels back. it’s almost too much immediately. he still can’t get a hold of Laura #he can’t resist going home. it’s like a natural pull that guides him back. all at once he’s 16 again. staring at the wreckage of his life #deputy stilinski is sherrif now. it’s reassuring in the slightest that the police force seems to have moved on from how corrupt it was #he catches her scent and it’s putrid. bile catches in his throat. he seeks it out. still in denial to what he knows it means. #when he finds Laura it’s like the world ends all over again. he can’t stand to see her like this. he gives her a proper burial. #the best he can do at least #he visits Peter. he’s not the man Derek remembers- so full of fire and cunning. their relationship may have been strained at times. #often Derek felt more like Eve being swayed by the snake than a normal friendship #but this isn’t the sharp tongued uncle who guided him. this is a broken shell. all that remained of his family. he was so lost. #22 but he barely knew how to function without his family- his pack paving the way #Laura handled everything. she got the apartment. she made sure they had food. Derek looks back and feels so useless #he was so lost in his grief. Laura must of felt the same way but she never let them drown in it #she made sure he got his GED. even got him to enroll in community college classes. #he took them online. he never was able to warm up to people the same way. he used to be so full of life. now he just wanted to be left alone #he studied English. never finished his degree. doesn’t look like he ever will now. he can’t go back to Laura and his shared home. #can’t bare to see another shell of a home #he vents to the vacant audience of Peter and his cold fixed eyes #Derek leaves. he wants to promise he’ll return soon #but promises feel costly these days #he decides to go back to the reserve. maybe he can find some clue as to what happened to Laura #someone lured her here. someone who knew them and their history here #his mind went to the worst. Kate. why would she go through the trouble six years later. why wait so long. #Derek couldn’t stomach the thought of facing her. he focused on the woods. the scents were all over the place. #clearly multiple people had been through here recently. two scents were much stronger. Derek follows them #but when he hears the crunch of leaves he realizes why the scents are so strong. they’re still here #he ducks behind some trees. listening in on their conversation. but an echo of their scent catches his attention #he spots an inhaler on the ground. he puts two and two together and swipes it from the leaves. #he comes out once they’re closer. tossing over the inhaler- he figures they’ll leave. dumb kids messing around in the woods #he reminds them this is private property. though that may not be true anymore. he recognizes the scent of a new beta. interesting.

[gobboguy]

Chapter 14: The Orcs of Cairn Doom

Surrounded by a sea of green bodies, bristling with body hair and bulging with fat and muscle, Ionia felt herself engulfed in the chaos of the Orcish feast. The thick press of Orcs closed in around her, their boisterous revelry drowning out any hope of escape. Desperately, she scanned the room for the door, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and revulsion. The overpowering scent of the Orcish bodies assaulted her senses, threatening to overwhelm her as she struggled to maintain her composure in the midst of the tumultuous celebration.

As Ionia navigated through the crowded dining hall, her movements hindered by the press of green bodies, she found herself on a collision course with a colossal Orcish woman. Rising from her seat, the Orcess's imposing figure loomed over Ionia like a mountain. Her crimson eyes bore down on the prone Swordmaster, a mixture of drool and bloodgrog dribbling from her chin to stain her matted black hair and filth-covered skin.

Clad in nothing but a leather thong, the Orcess exuded an aura of drunken slovenliness, her hairy armpits and pubic region adding to her wild appearance. The stench of her unwashed body hung heavy in the air, assaulting Ionia's senses. Attached to her massive breasts were two suckling Orc-Whelps wrapped in swaddling clothes, while two more slumbered in crooks of both her arms.

With a groan that rumbled through the hall, the Orcess fixed her gaze on Ionia, her voice rough and primitive as she demanded to know what a human was doing in Cairn Doom. "Ugh, what puny human doing in Cairn Doom?" The Orcess grunted as she shifted her children around.

As Ionia sprung to her feet, her pulse quickening with a surge of adrenaline as she darted in the opposite direction, her eyes darting frantically for any sign of escape. Amidst the chaos of the dining hall, she spotted the door, a glimmer of hope in the midst of the overwhelming sea of green-skinned bodies. But her relief is short-lived as a towering figure, an immense Orc male, materialized before her out of the crowd of Orcs, stark naked and imposing. His gargantuan belly, straining against its own weight, fails to obscure the impressive length of his member, which swings heavily between his legs, nearly reaching his knees. His tusks gleamed in the torchlight and he stared down from a height of nearly ten feet at the small human before him.

Crossing his bulging arms over his broad chest, the Orc fixed Ionia with a steely glare, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and hostility. In the face of his intimidating presence, Ionia instinctively began to retreat, her movements slow and cautious, like a cornered prey trying to evade the hunter's grasp. The Orc's stance remains unwavering, a silent challenge that looms over her like a dark cloud.

Desperation clawed at Ionia's chest as she turned to flee, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged beast seeking escape. But her frantic flight is abruptly halted as she nearly stumbled headlong into one of the many latrines lining the wall, her hands barely managing to catch the slimy wooden lip just in time. With a sense of dread, she peered into the depths below, the murky black liquid churning with unspeakable filth, a mixture of feces and urine, its putrid odor assaulting her senses like a physical blow.

Struggling to suppress the rising bile in her throat, Ionia recoiled from the nauseating sight, her stomach roiling with revulsion. With trembling hands, she wiped the foul residue from her palms onto the coarse fabric of her Orcish robes, the already dirty garment now marred by the additional smears of grime. Yet even as she tried to shake off the contamination, the stench of Orcish essence lingered, clinging to her like a suffocating shroud.

As Ionia staggered away from the noxious latrines, her movements hindered by the thick, clinging robes, she took several cautious steps backward, her gaze darting around the crowded hall in search of an escape route. But her retreat was cut short as her foot caught on an unseen obstacle, sending her sprawling forward with a cry of surprise. Landing with a jarring thud, she found herself bent over a nearby table, her momentum toppling several mugs of bloodgrog in a cascading torrent of crimson liquid.

The acrid stench of the potent alcoholic beverage assaulted her senses, its caustic fumes stinging her eyes and causing her to recoil instinctively. The pungent aroma filled the air, overpowering and suffocating, as Orcs nearby guzzled the noxious brew with gusto, their burps and belly slaps echoing loudly amidst the raucous din of the feasting hall. Despite her efforts to suppress it, a gag rose in Ionia's throat, her stomach roiling in protest at the overpowering scent.

Amidst the chaos, Ionia's eyes flickered over the assortment of foods spread out on the table before her, a grotesque display of raw, bloody meat and unidentifiable offal. The sight turned her stomach, the vivid colors and pungent aromas of the Orcish delicacies assaulting her senses with a nauseating intensity. The meat, still dripping with blood and gore, seemed to pulse with a sickening vitality, its rawness a stark reminder of the brutality of Orcish cuisine.

Desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the feasting hall, Ionia pushed herself upright, her head swimming with dizziness as she tried to regain her bearings. Each breath was a struggle against the overpowering stench of blood and alcohol, her senses overwhelmed by the cacophony of sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded her. With trembling hands, she wiped the sticky residue of bloodgrog from her robes, her movements frantic as she sought a way out of this nightmarish realm before she succumbed to unconsciousness.

Ionia's horror-stricken gaze swept across the vast expanse of the dining hall, her heart sinking with each passing moment. In Votar, the Orc population had always been a manageable nuisance, numbering no more than a thousand at most. But here, amidst the throngs of Orcs gathered in the grand hall, there were easily ten thousand or more, their brutish forms filling every available space with an oppressive sense of overcrowding.

As she observed the scene before her, Ionia's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of numerous Orc females scattered throughout the room, their swollen bellies and sagging breasts testament to the relentless cycle of reproduction that fueled the Orcish horde. Despite their heavy burdens, the females drank and caroused with abandon, their carefree demeanor belying the gravity of their situation. Many of them nursed infants at their breasts while simultaneously indulging in the foul-smelling bloodgrog, their actions a stark reminder of the Orcs' insatiable appetite for conquest and procreation.

Amidst the cacophony of voices and laughter, Ionia's attention was drawn to a distant corner of the hall, where the sounds of pleasure-filled moans echoed through the air. Peering through the crowd, she caught sight of several Orc couples engaged in frenzied lovemaking, their primal instincts driving them to satisfy their carnal desires without inhibition. With each wet slap and grunt, Ionia was reminded of the relentless pace of Orcish reproduction, the incessant breeding serving as a chilling reminder that the Orcs were not merely invaders, but an insidious infestation spreading its tendrils across the land.

A massive hand, tinted with hues of green and stained with the remnants of bloodgrog, clapped firmly on Ionia's shoulder, causing her to startle. Looking up, she found Gelbeg towering over her, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her smaller form. His grin, framed by white tusks and teeth, was disconcertingly friendly as he welcomed her to Cairn Doom. Gelbeg greeted Ionia with a wide smile as she surveyed the bustling hall of Cairn Doom. "Ah, welcome to Cairn Doom, Ionia! Quite a sight, isn't it?"

Ionia's accusatory words tumbled out in a rush, accusing Gelbeg of concealing the true nature of Cairn Doom—a sprawling Orcish colony disguised as a holy site. Ionia's response was accusatory. "Don't patronize me, Gelbeg. You knew all along this wasn't just some holy site. This is an Orcish colony!"

Gelbeg's smile remained, though there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Well, you're not entirely wrong," he admitted. "Cairn Doom serves as both a holy sanctuary and a distant colony for our people. It's where our faith and our strength converge." With a gentle yet firm grip, Gelbeg turned Ionia around, his calloused hands guiding her to face the bustling hall.

With a sweeping gesture, Gelbeg showcased the multitude of Orcs gathered within the hall, their grunts, oinks, and burps blending into a symphony of primal sounds.

Ionia's skepticism only deepened. "So, while you've been preaching about peace and enlightenment, you've been quietly amassing an army?"

Gelbeg shook his head gently. "Not an army, Ionia. We're a community. A family. We gather here to honor our traditions, to worship our gods, and to forge bonds that strengthen us all. It's not about conquest; it's about survival and solidarity."

Ionia stared on at the massive group of Orcs in a mixture of disgust and revulsion, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer scale of their presence.

#fantasy #goblins #orcs #literature #gobboguy #songsofpower7