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just-some-trans-nobody · 8 months

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Orc boyfriend head canons

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of war, mentions of hunting, brief mention of blood.

Minors Don't Interact!

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Big scary orc boyfriend whose taken down dire wolves with his bare hands terrified by a little mouse. His tiny human lover has to catch the mouse and put it outside while he freaks out.

He'll give you all the kisses in the world after that praising you for being so brave.

May or may not give thanks by burying his face between your legs for a few hours.

He likes bring you back his trophys of war and hunting, he knows he doesn't have anything to prove but he still likes showing off to you.

Loves rubbing his tusks against you while cuddling in bed. Heart eyes and smitten if you kiss his tusks.

Would die on the spot if he saw you wearing only pelts from animals he killed. Run back to that bed or else your getting railed on the closest surface he can find.

Is ok with doing you in front of all his friends but if your not comfortable with it he won't push the topic at all. He respects your choices

Will try to take you hunting though, mostly so he can show off but it's also a bonding experience for him.

Likes picking you up and puting you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes with his hand on your ass. He'll walk around your home and even outside if you let him.

He thinks putting a bear pelt down in front of the fire place with a couple of bottles of mead is the most romantic thing in the world and will pull this move any time he feels romantical or if you need a night of pampering.

He also thinks battling side to side covered in your enemy's blood is just as romantic.

Lord this man is bad at reading, he's more a himbo type. Sit on his lap and read out loud to him he will absolutely love it. His arms will wrap around you holding you close as you read to him. Better yet let him use your lap as a pillow while you read to him.

If you have hair long enough please let him brush and braid it he loves it. Do the same to him he finds it intimate and rather romantic.

Oh boy oh boy ask him about his scars and his tattoos, he'll spend hours telling you about them in great details.

In his mind your alredy married but if you explain to him you want a wedding he will be more than happy to listen to how you would want it and try to get as close to that as possible. He's going to go all out for the wedding sex too.

He has a tattoo in honor of you. May have more than one.

Would be so happy if you got a tattoo that had to do with him but wouldn't be disappointed if you didn't.

If you have any pets he treats them like their your children.

Will bread you in hopes of having your kids even if it's impossible for number of reason's. Still fun to pretend.

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alloru · 8 months

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cheers for the finished colours on this one!

getting these right actually took 3 attempts, which doesn't sound like a lot, but trust me it is. aside for the long time I've already spent on it, I actually love this piece! it contains tons of elements I really like to draw and see in other people's work ^v^

speaking of, I just realized that I've never actually posted some food art on here! honestly speaking it's also been a while since I've actually shaded something like it, so that might be another long-term art goal to fulfill!

have a nice next 24 hours everybody and spend a little time with family, whether it be chosen or blood-related c:

#fantasy characters #digital art #my art #full colour #fantasy art #comfy aesthetic #wip #orc character #half orc #character art #domestic #family time #slice of life #wholesome #another episode of #wip wednesday #cooking companion

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warcrimetime · 20 days

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The Iron Gods crew chills in their apartment before going about their adventure. Some times Deptari wonders how she got dragged into all this but these are her little weirdos now

#pathfinder #art #dnd character #d&d art #pathfinder art #warcrimetime portfolio #dungeons and dragons #drow #half orc #samseran #vesk #slice of life #oc lore #iron gods

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dadjoke-ness · 5 months

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A sneak peek of some of the characters for my future webcomic, Into the Prism.

Please don't judge my wheelchair anatomy.

#my art #furry art #sneak peek #into the prism #dadjoke-ness #these two are primarily skyrim but they'll probably also fuck around with things like zelda #har'satta is an orc #and system error is a high elf #beebot is my baby and entirely worth the amount of effort it took to destroy the bandit camps #her home is outside my house in the ratway (she lives there with her sibling nymph and the skeever)#the comic is going to be more slice of life with a few different characters who all handle a different type of game #like one character for farming games and another for monster collecting #they also all have specific pens so the style feels different across games

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cruelsister-moved2 · 10 months

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literally whyyyy is fantasy synonymous atp with there always being fucking armies and battles i wish ursula k le guin was here

#esp women writing this stuff SORRY i just think we are better than this.#and also 1 billion characters and 9 trillion POV characters #a youtuber i like was recently talking about how they like want to enjoy fantasy btu its really hard to find fantasy that feels like an #adult extension of the fantasy we grew up loving rather than just like this whole epic fantasy thing #and i felt it soooo hard and neither of could like exactly describe whats missing but i know exactly the vibe #and also they were saying how the cosy fantasy thing like does not hit the spot at ALL like it doesnt even do what i want from fantasy #its basically just modern slice of life fanfiction shit but theres an orc or w/e

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evilvarric666-archive · 1 year

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Dudes rock lmao.

#Sorry for thinking my brother is so fucking funny but I'm literally right.#Every time I ask him what he's reading he'll silently pass me a paperback so I can read the summary and it's always like #some slice of life novel about an orc warrior who retires from adventuring to open a ye olde cafe with her tiefling girlfriend #Easily one of the cishet guys ever. I love him to death #Where is he finding this stuff.

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campfire-manga · 11 months

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Koushaku Reijou ni Tensei shiteshimatta node, Mental Otome na Ore wa, Zenryoku de Onnanoko wo Tanoshimimasu

Since I Have Been Reincarnated as the Daughter of a Duke, I, the "Girl Inside," Will Enjoy Being a Girl as Much as I Can!

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st-just · 1 year

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The Deal by Marishka Kleyman

#art #fantasy #high fantasy #slice of life #elf #orc #dwarf #Marishka Kleyman

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curiositybeckettcomic · 2 years

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#19: The Shovel Talk

First | Previous | Next

Jannek is not the most obvious subject for a shovel talk, but Mahl isn’t an obvious kind of guy…

First | Previous | Next

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fantasyrealityai · 1 month

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Orc code writers

#orc #code #office #slice of life #ai art #ai generated #ai image

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just-some-trans-nobody · 1 month

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December Christmas Monster Stories

December 18.) Orc bestie

Shhhh let's not talk about how it's no where near December any more!

Female orc x Fem reader

No pronouns actually used for reader

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“Ok ok open this one next!” Ugar exclaimed, holding out a wrapped gift in her calloused green hands. Smiling, you took the gift from her. It was a hand decorated frame in the shape of a heart, the image inside was one the two of you had taken when in front of a waterfall on a trip you shared together, it was a fond memory for the both of you. “Check the back of the photo.” She had whispered in a voice that had caught you off guard. You’ve never heard her so nervous before, not even that time the two of you had been camping deep in the woods and a bear had wandered into your camp smelling the yummy food. Ugar had started beating on her chest with nothing to protect her but her pajamas as she bellowed at the bear standing her ground as she scared off the bear. She swore then and to this day she would have fought that bear with her bare hands if it meant keeping you safe. So now sitting here on your bed with cheesy Christmas music playing softly in the background while you exchange, her looking so nervous, so terrified as she waited for you to look at the back of the photo made you feel as if your world was ending. She was your bestfriend you had known her since kindergarten yet she never made you feel so petrified at this moment. Was something wrong? Was she dying? Were you dying and she knew it but you had been to stupid to know it?

Taking the back of the frame out you couldn’t help but notice your hands were trembling as you lifted it up and set it down next to you. Gulping you lifted the photo up, eyes blurry as tears already started to form from the fear you were feeling. In red pen was her messy handwriting. “I have loved you for many years and shall love you till my dying day. Say the word and I will follow you to the edge of the world. Please be mine, darling love.” It took three full reads of what it said before you really understood the words. Gasping softly your head jolted up to look at her, she dared not meet your gaze. “You really mean this?” You asked, it being your turn to whisper as you talked. She simply nodded her head as she bit down on her bottom lip. It was strange seeing such a large powerful orc acting so nervous and submissive but there she was playing with her hands fighting the urge to run so she did not have to face the rejection she feared she would have.

Feeling your small hand compared to hers being placed on her own she looked at it, her gaze trailing up your arm till she met your eyes. “I love you too. I didn’t think you felt the same.” You explained letting out a soft laugh through tears were running down your face. Were they tears of relief or joy, who knows but you didn’t care. Letting out her own laugh it quickly turned to a sob, she had been so stressed out that the build up and release of emotions broke the damn. The both of you let out sobs mixed with laughs as you hugged each other. feeling both mad and silly for not sharing your feelings sooner. Pulling away from the hug Ugar cupped your face in her massive hand as she wiped your tears away with her thumb. “You are my everything.” She whispered as she leaned in to share the first of many kisses with you.

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alloru · 8 months

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the shading is already finished! :D

if you're wondering why the quality on this one looks a little off, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me upload it with its original file size. this is as big of a screenshot as I could manage!

it was a little difficult to get this one done in time and I'm a little more busy than usual at the moment, so I won't be too active on here for the next couple of days! I'll still post art hopefully, but if you tag me and I don't respond that might be why ^v^'

#fantasy characters #digital art #my art #full shading #fantasy art #artwork #finished art #comfy aesthetic #finished wip #orc character #half orc #character art #domestic #slice of life #wholesome

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apuckishwit · 1 year

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Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my wriitng #I dunno i was just feeling soft

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ja3hwa · 2 months

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So random thought right...

But i can't help but think about a witch x vampire trope where the reader is some kind of witch or fae or something magical, and Mingi (@atinystraynstay gave me the idea to make it for Min hehe.) is a 400+ year ish old vampire.

To set the scene... Imagine you are this young creature just wanting a fresh start in a new town far from your coven/clan since you were banished as an outsider for having beliefs that all creatures no matter their species, should be deemed as equal.

So here you are, putting down your deposit for this abandoned manor that no one seemed to want since people had said it was haunted, people died in there blah blah. You didn't care. It was the most beautiful thing you had laid your eyes on, and it felt like you needed to be there...

You had to have it.

Once inside your newly purchased home, you found yourself wandering the halls and rooms to find any hidden gems and secrets. Unbeknownst to you, there was a basement, hiding a dark sinister truth.

A few months passed, and you've finally gotten comfortable in the home, having not even noticed the basement. Until on faithful night while you slept, you swore you could hear humming, like someone or something was tugging you awake.

Like a silent song, beckoning you to find the holder.

You manage to find a sealed entrance, covered in ruins, chains, thick wooden boards, and writing that says turn back. Do not enter.

Death lies within

Of course, you just laugh. After all, what could possibly be so dangerous? Humans were such fragile and scared little things. It was more likely to be some spell casters chambers or some orc's dungeon. Nothing you couldn't handle.

So you casted a spell, unlocking the dark tomb. What you didn't expect is to find a coffin in the centre of an eerie empty room. It was chained and had scribbles of ruins and sigals on it.

Typical witches, you thought, afraid of anything that they can't control.

You opened the coffin, removing the spells casted on it slowly, trying your best not to set off any of them. And once the lid was opened, you were faced with a gorgeous eternal looking male. His skin like porcelain, hair like silk. He was the most handsomest creature you've ever laid eyes on.

Something in your soul was calling out for you to wake him. Gift him blood so he could return to the waking world.

So you did.

Slicing your wrist, you angeled your arm aboved his slightly agaped dried out mouth. Feeding in slow droplets of blood. At first, you think your blood did nothing. But then, without another thought, your body moved quicker than lightning. Your back being slammed against the nearest wall, in a blur. Your eyes try to focus on the being in front of you, one hand holding you tightly by the waist, while another held the back of your neck. Trapping you against the concrete.

You've never felt such a painful pleasure like the one that is piercing your jugular. Two pointed teeth sinking deepering in your skin, drawing blood from your main artery, making your head dizzy.

He fed on you. Stealing slow, big gulps of your rich, thick blood. You feel a tingle in your core, something stirring in your entire system and without another whimper escaping your throat. You cilmaxed from the intense amount of power surging through your veins. Like everything in your life suddenly made sense.

And once you'd calmed down, he would finally pull away, licking your wound shut and cleaning any spilt blood he could get to before whispering softly in your ear;

"My beloved. My mate..."

-

Anyways I'll go back to being on my hiatus. Hehe. ✌️

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kat651 · 4 months

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imagine: saving Haldir during the battle at helm’s deep.

You fought like your life depended on it (because it did). The rain fell hard and sounded like music as it hit your helmet. Your armor had a blue tint to it, thanks to the type of metal that it was made from. You were a fighter but not by choice. Being half elven was difficult, like Elrond, you lost your parents at a young age, you didn’t remember them well.

you spun to fight off an orc that tried to sneak up behind you. Your sword plunged into its neck, killing the beast instantly. You turned again and paused as to saw a golden haired elf face off agents an orc. You could tell he was a well trained warrior by the way he moved. You forgot the raging battle around you for a moment a you watched his graceful footing and deliberate movements. It was then that you realized it was Haldir, an elf you hadn’t seen in over a year.

You only snapped out of your trance when you saw an orc come up behind Haldir, preparing to kill him. You ran and pushed him out of the way to be met by a sharp pain in your side. You cried out as the blade was pulled out. You silently thanked the valar that your armor was thick and it stoped most of the blade’s momentum. You clutched your now bleeding side and spun, slicing the orc’s head clean off before falling to your knees.

you went to stand and found that someone was pulling you to to your feet. You looked up to see haldir gently holding you up.

“thank you…” you breathed.

he shook his head. “It’s I who should be thanking you, you saved my life…”

“it was nothing…” you said in a strained voice before your world went black.

You woke to find yourself in a medical room, you went to sit up and a pain coursed through your body. You hissed and went limp.

you felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over to see Haldir. He had a rare smile on his face. “I was surprised when I found that the one beneath the mask was you, y/n…” he paused for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

you shrugged, a horrible mistake, you winced.

“rest, y/n, you need it…”

you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and looked away.

Haldir turned your face back to him. “Y/n, I owe you my life…”

“no you don-” you were cut short by a soft and tingly sensation, your eyes widened when you realized what it was. Lips. Haldir’s lips.

he pulled away slowly and you looked at him in awe. “H-haldir?”

he was blushing slightly as he gently ran his fingers through your hair. You blushed harder and grabbed his hand.

haldir smiled and brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

you placed your hand on his cheek, slowly sliding to the back of his neck and pulling him close for a second kiss. And a third… and a forth… and so on.

#haldir x you #x reader #haldir x reader #lord of the rings #kat651 #lotr #cute #haldir of lorien #haldir fanfiction #haldir #the lord of the rings

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

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Title: Brave [3 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You manage to earn your day’s water, but also something else—Steve’s attention.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: a little more world-building, some insights into pack culture—and what’s expected of our reader 👀 i hope you all enjoy!

The rabbit’s ears twitch as it lifts its twitching nose to the air. You’re downwind, so it can’t scent you, not unless the wind shifts. It’s been hours of you sitting here, waiting as one by one the rest of the pack peels off, searches for better pickings elsewhere. You don’t, though, remaining still and quiet until you’re the only one left crouching low in the grass.

She lifts her head higher, ears swiveling before she lowers her head back down to the sparse patch of green in a sea of dry brown, her whiskers trembling. Slowly, quietly, you creep forward, pausing each time she does as you get into position. You nock an arrow, sighting it down your pointer finger—the way Steve showed you.

The thought of him curdles your stomach, and you grimace. What does he care if I live or die? You think snidely, your lips tightening as you draw back the string with a firm, steady hand. You grit your teeth. He thinks you weak—you know the others think so. They speak it freely, and in truth you cannot blame them. Your survival feels like more of a mistake than anything, a cruel twist of luck that had denied you the end you were supposed to meet. You are as unsuited to this life as both the cobbler and the baker’s boy, and yet you breathe while they moulder.

Don’t miss.

You release the arrow, and much to your surprise, your aim is true. The arrow pins the rabbit, the tip sinking into the dirt behind it. Its back legs twitch, and briefly your stomach turns as you watch the light go out in its frightened black eyes. Unexpected tears gather in your eyes as you wrench the arrow from the rabbit’s still warm flesh, and wipe it on the grass.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, placing a hand on its little head. “Thank you.”

“To live out here is to take life.” You aren’t surprised by Steve’s voice, nor his presences. You suppose it had been foolish, really, to think you were alone. You wipe furiously at your tears before glaring at him over your shoulder with red-rimmed eyes. “It was an honorable kill.”

You look down at your hands, and swallow thickly at the sight of dark red blood.

“I have never killed anything before.”

The orc sneers. “Then you have led a much more comfortable life than most anyone, man, orc, or beast.” He gestures to the rabbit. “Come. I do not think anyone will contest that you’ve earned your water tonight.” You watch as Steve strings up your kill, tying it to the back of your saddle.

—

You approach the fire-pit with your rabbit, your jaw clenched nervously as you twist the rope in your hands. The orc female tending the pot is as broad-shouldered and gruff as the males, her blond hair cropped close on the sides, the top long enough to fall across her eyes. She crosses her arms as you approach, a surprised, if wry, smile on her face.

“Well I’ll be.” She takes it from you, nodding in approval. “Clean kill. I’m impressed. I did not think a thing as dainty as you would be able to draw one of our bows.” You know she doesn’t mean it as an insult, merely an observation. Orcs, in your new estimation, seem to be overly fond of blunt communication, unbothered nuance or delicacy. You had never thought yourself particularly dainty, either; though as you look up at her you realize how small you are indeed.

“Thank you.” She turns to place your rabbit upon the chopping block she has cleared, and you look away as she begins to clean it. “What… what is your name?” You ask awkwardly, and she glances up at you.

“Carol.” She unsheathes a heavy looking short blade from her hip, slicing the rabbit from tail to nose. “You’ll make a fine hunter yet, little human,” she complements your work a second time, and you duck your head, your cheeks burning.

“I—I’ve never hunted before.” You admit. “Today was the first time.”

“Have you not? Perhaps I shall take you next time. Mayhap we can catch bigger than a rabbit.” She winks. Carol does not shoo you away, not even when the other orcs begin lining up with their own, impressive kills. Bucky is last, of course, a small deer strung up on a pole he carries easily by himself over one large shoulder.

“We should make jerky from this one. Salt it and dry the skins between the saddles,” Carol says, slapping its flank. You hope in vain that his slate gray eyes will not fall on you—but you feel their weight even as you busy yourself cleaning foraged carrots, and you hear the sneer in his voice.

“Making yourself useful?”

“She killed a rabbit today.” You had not expected Carol’s defense, and when you glance up at her, she stands with her body broadside in front of you, like she’s trying to block you from view. “A good kill, for her first time.”

Bucky scoffs. “Every one of us had a doe skinned and parted out before we were even weaned.” He sneers at you, the tusks poking out from his lower lip glinting menacingly. “But I suppose if you were an orc youngling, you might be blooded for it.”

Carol rolls her eyes.

“I just want to earn my water.” You say, meeting his gaze as you jut out your chin. “That’s all.” Bucky says nothing. He glances down at your rabbit, and then back up at you.

“It’s a good kill.” You swallow—that is probably the closes to a compliment that he’s apt to come. He turns on his heel and walks away, dirt crunching under his boots.

When Carol serves out the stew that night, you get a bowl—instead of the scraps you’d been allowed to take from the pot in the nights before, and your stomach groans audibly at the privilege of being full. For the first time, you find a—small—place by the fire that no one seems to mind you taking. In your bowl, you find almost an entire leg of rabbit. You look up, expecting to find Carol’s knowing gaze, but instead, your eyes connect with cool blue across the fire.

You look down quickly, pretending to ignore the weight of his eye as you bring a spoonful of stew to your lips.

“I beg your attention, brothers, sisters, people,” Steve’s voice carries across the fire-pit like a clap of thunder. The response is immediate, a curtain total silence dropping. Though there is no king among them, you think Steve might be the closest comparable thing.

“The day after tomorrow we ride for Tarrath. You know what this means; we will not stop. Not for rest, not for water.” You swallow the uncomfortable feeling that this speech is partially for your benefit. His bright blue eyes rest on yours. “Do not fall behind.”

Carol sits heavily on the log beside you, a bowl held in her large hands. It provides a welcome distraction, and you drop his gaze, turning to look at her.

“Eat up, little human,” she replies, gesturing at you with a spoon. “You will need your strength.” You bite into the rabbit, a mixture of gravy and grease running down your chin as she nods at you.

“Tomorrow, we hunt.”

to be continued