arcane-apathy

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Just a reminder for people cause I haven't seen many peope posting about it:

If you can, please braid your hair today in honor of Cole Brings Plenty. Cole was a Lakota actor who was found murdered with his hair cut. Rising Hearts has asked that everyone, indigenous or not, wear braids to honor him and remember those that have suffered the same.

If you can't braid your hair, then share posts of others!

Now is also a good time to share some support to indigenous charities, if you're able

https://www.risinghearts.org/

https://landback.org/

https://mmiwusa.org/

https://narf.org/

https://ndncollective.org/

https://www.niwrc.org/

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I have finished 7 out of 8 (minimum) pages of TPOW Chapter 11.

#update #tpow series #m orc x f reader #the prize of war #suprise

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The way I SCREAMED seeing chapter 10 drop of The Prize of War. Seriously, I keep reading and re-reading the series. You've got a gift with writing and I appreciate that you put it on here for us to read; I think you mentioned this is your first high-fantasy series and it's fantastic so far! Single-handedly, you've created one of my favorite stories I've ever read and I can't see where everything leads!!!!

I'm so happy you love it! 😇

And while this isn't technically the first I've written high-fantasy, it is the first I've posted.

#asks #personal-ish

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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.” 

#male orc x female reader #tpow series #my writing #m orc x f reader #orc x reader #exophilia #fantasy #tpow #orcs

[arcane-apathy]

This is a gentle reminder that your favorite writers are busy. Many of us have jobs, families, school, outside responsibilities that pull us in a lot of directions. If you're eager for more of a story, a comment like "update pls" or "update soon!!!" does not actually help. If you want to get the creative juices flowing, come ask us questions! I promise you your fave is going to be so happy that you show interest and reach out.

Remember, we are doing this for fun. Help make it fun for everyone involved. Including the writer.

Sincerely,

A very tired writer

#go for it y'all

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Hello everyone… It’s been a while… 

If you're still here by some miracle, thank you for sticking around. To everyone who sent sweet messages and asks, thank you for your concern and kind words. I'm sorry for leaving without saying anything. But a lot had happened all at once. 

  Without delving too much into it, I spent a lot of time in hospitals, for myself and others. And I’ve gone to more funerals this year than I have in my entire life. I’ve had to make up the hours I missed at work. I took up odd jobs to help pay bills. It has been a lot. 

  Thankfully I am now in a more stable place, and I’m slowly regaining my creativity. I cannot promise when Prize of War chapter 10 will be released, but I am working on it. Thank you all again, and I’m glad to be back. 

#Personal #Update

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every time i get a new follower who isn’t a porn bot:

#it's literally driving me insane

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What the past couple days have felt like

#I average about 12 every time I log in

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Although my candles are already dwindling, I figured I should post an obligatory menorah pic. Especially since it is my first year using this particular menorah.  Chag sameach! 

#1st night

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חג חנוכה שמח

a freilichen chanukah

hanukka alegre

هانوكا سعيد

 حَنوکا مبارک

frohes chanukka

joyeux hanouka

buon chanukkà

bon hanukkà

feliz janucá

vrolijk chanoeka

mutlu hanuka

с счастливой Хануки

срећна Ханука  

Χαρούμενο Χανουκά

修殿節 快樂

हनुका मुबारक हो

happy hanukkah

however you say or spell it, tumblr, may yours be filled with joy and light

#happy hanukkah y'all

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Happy birthday sweetheart!

Thank you! 💖

#personal-ish #answers

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~Protective~

The Prize of War Masterlist 

AN: A little while ago I had someone mention in an ask that they’d love to see something from Kurakh’s perspective. I originally brushed it off, but I got a rush of inspiration to write a short piece. And because this month is so busy for me, I’ve barely had time to make any progress on upcoming chapters. Hopefully this will tide y’all over until I can actually update. While today may be my birthday, this is my little present to y’all. Thank y’all for your support, and I hope you’ll enjoy! 

Warning(s): Swearing, Suggestive Language, Angry Kurakh (he deserves his own warning)

 A week has passed since the first snow. And whilst beautiful, the cold was a shock to many in the horde. It was becoming more of a struggle to leave the warmth of the furs in the morning. Kurakh didn't know how Odmili did it with ease each morning. Their usual rolls have switched, with her getting up first to put wood into the fireplace before getting ready for the day. Her routine never changed. Starting with her boots, then brushing the knots from her hair before braiding it and hiding it beneath the cap. 

  Kurakh hated that cap. While it had its purpose, it hid the maid’s best feature. Much like her entire outfit. Designed to hide the personality of the wearer, to diminish their importance despite the skills they possess. The sleeves are long, neckline high, hemline to the ankles, and baggy. Everything she wore was rough to the touch. Purely utilitarian. And she deserved better, even if she thought she didn’t. But despite the habit’s best efforts, Kurakh couldn’t ignore the maid’s beauty. To the point that he struggled with daily tasks. 

  “You’re not even cutting any wood, you’re just staring,” Eteos grumbles beside him. 

  “Sorry, just got distracted,” he turns away from her just as she looks at him. Schelura laughed alongside her as they got water from the well across the camp. 

  “Tends to be happening more and more buddy,” the centaur smirks as he splits another log. “When’s the wedding?” 

  “Be quiet,” he huffs while putting the split pieces in the cart. 

  “You’re being a big baby. She obviously likes you back.” 

  “You don’t know that.” 

  “We offered her a room to herself, she refused. Marvi offered to help her make a second bed pad, but she refused. I tried to rescue her and she jumped off my back. She likes you!” 

  “I don’t want to rush her…” 

  “Well you better get a move on before someone else does. I’ve got too many horny, single men in this camp. Who would love nothing more than to be up her skirt.” Kurakh frowned and split a log, trying to ignore it. “Speaking of, here comes one now… Hello Fergal, how’s the leg?” 

  Kurakh could see the Tiefling out of the corner of his good eye as he chopped, “hello Commander, Warchief.” Nodding to each of them respectively, “it’s fine, just sore, not as bad as the first two days.” 

  “That’s good. Why don’t you make yourself a little useful and stack the wood neatly in the cart? There’s not much to catch up on, since someone here is distracted,” Eteos teases. 

  “I’m sure the Warchief has a lot on his mind,” Fergal smiles and begins to straighten the contents of the cart. Kurakh rolls his eyes before chopping more wood. The silence quickly ruined, “Warchief may I ask you something?” 

  Kurakh sighs, “go ahead.” 

  “What is the Maid of Eia like?” 

  “Why do you want to know?” 

  “I’ve lived in Evor all of my life, the clergy of any deity is mysterious to the common folk. We only see them on holidays, major life events, or when dying… She’s also very pretty.” 

  Eteos watches Kurakh carefully, the orc standing at his full height. “She is an honorable woman with many skills, and a great addition to the horde. The rest of my people would agree.” 

  “She’s nice,” the Tiefling smiles. “Although she’s got quite the mouth on her, I think I can find a better use for it. I know she’s smart and all, but those maids take vows of chastity… I’d be happy to teach her a few things. Not like I’ve done it before, maids are always fun to break in.” 

Kurakh grips his axe tighter, “you’ve done it before?” 

  “Several times, not just Maids of Eia. But they tend to be the most fun, considering they know how everything works down there.” Eteos watches as Kurakh places his axe on the ground, taking a step towards Fergal as his back is turned. “And getting to see what’s under that habit is the best part. They always seem more shapely than the habit lets on. I’m sure she has fat ass underneath that blue mess of fabric.” Fergal turns around, freezing as he realizes how close Kurakh was. 

  “I’m only going to say this one time, and you will not have a smartass response. I can still reach my axe and you can’t run that well. The Maid of Eia is not a trophy for you to win or a shiny new toy for you to play with. And you will never speak of her in such a way ever again. You will only speak to her only on matters of your health. Do you understand me? 

  “Yes sir.” 

  Kurakh leans in just a tad bit closer, his voice quieter yet just as stern as before. “And don’t even think that you can be sneaky about it either. I’m the one she shares a bed with, and I’m the one who holds her at night. I will find out. One step out of line and I will feed you to my warg, alive. Have I made my intentions clear?” 

  “Y-Yes Warchief.” 

  “Good, now go find someone else you annoy,” Kurakh steps away from him. Just enough for him to move away from the cart. The injured Tiefling limps away with his tail between his legs. The few bystanders quickly acted like they weren’t listening to every word. “So you sort wood while I chop,” the orc lifts his axe with a sigh.  

  Eteos rolls his eyes, “feeding him to your warg? A bit much, isn’t it?.” 

  “Not when it concerns her.”

#tpow #male orc x female reader #High Fantasy #orc x reader #my work #snippet #m orc x f reader #tpow series #fantasy

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reblog this if you’re jewish or your blog is a safe space for jewish people

in light of recent events as well as a new rise in creating nazi ocs I think this post is an important one to have on your blog if you stand behind your jewish followers or are jewish yourself.

[arcane-apathy]

We interrupt this lovely readalong for more HarperCollins union news.

Namely, the union is on strike. HarperCollins, the second largest publishing house in the United States, has made record profits (in the billions) but refuses to pay its employees a living wage or negotiate in good faith. Unlike the one-day strike earlier this year, this will be an open-ended strike, to last until a fair, good-faith contract is agreed upon.

I cannot overstate the implications here. HarperCollins is a 200-year-old behemoth with over 120 imprints, owned by billionaire Rupert Murdoch. You have reads books from this company, I guarantee it. You have enjoyed movies and TV shows spawned by this company. The workers striking at the blood and sweat responsible for launching those properties you love. And as Harper goes, so goes the rest of the industry. If we raise the living standards for one, so the pressure increases on other companies to raise it for all.

The Harper Union need your support. They have a full thread here, but here’s the gist of what they’re asking:

EVERYONE:

- Donate to the strike fund if you can

- Politely email Harper’s HR ([email protected]) and the CEO ([email protected]) to express your support for the strike and the union.

- Boost their message on social media and among your social circles (here are some assets you can use to do that)

- If you are in the NY metro area, come join the picket line at 195 Broadway in Manhattan!

BLOGGERS/REVIEWERS/BOOKSTAGRAMMERS/BOOKTOKERS:

- If possible, please hold all reviews of Harper titles until the strike is over. (And I would add, if you feel comfortable doing so, tell Harper why.)

FREELANCERS/INDUSTRY HOPEFULS:

- Don’t be a scab. Don’t take new freelance projects or temporary positions while the strike is ongoing.

BOOKSTORES/BOOKSELLERS:

- Share the “I Stand With” graphic

- Print and distribute the union bookmark at your store

AUTHORS/AGENTS:

- Do not submit or sign new contracts to Harper until the union’s own contract is finalized.

———

Please note they are not asking for a boycott on Harper titles. A boycott would harm the authors, who have nothing to do with this, so the union is explicitly requesting no boycott.

Also, please do not @ Harper social accounts to yell at them. Direct all feedback to that peopleteam email. The majority of folks watching those accounts are out on the picket line anyways, and their managers have already been warned that, as non-union members, they risk termination if voice any public support for the strike.

For more info, check out the union’s accounts on Twitter and Instagram. I also recommend this Twitter thread for some hard facts and figures.

Want something you can share on TikTok? Check out Carmen’s video here.

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Update!

Just logged in and realized I’ve somehow acquired over 500 followers! Thank you all for your support! I promise I’m slowly whittling away at new chapters for my stories. However the holiday season is fast approaching, and that is when my job is the busiest. 

Progress Check

**8 pages is my personal minimum for chapters/parts

The Prize of War,  CH 10: 2/8 pgs.

Fallen, CH 19: 6/8 pgs. 

#update #thank you!

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People on twitter seemed to like these a ton so! Loved this cat pic and wanted to just draw em… 

#super cute!

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what's up my fellow nano influencers