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specsthesecond · 6 days ago

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°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

It’s only a split second longer before you and your orc jump apart and start frantically running around your small living room.

As you run to the kitchen, you hear him frantically gathering the pieces of paper on the table as he shoves them and the translation book under the couch.

You yank his now dry, blood crusted tunic and the bloody cloth off the drying rack in the kitchen and sprint back into the living room, tossing the tunic at him and shoving the cloth under the couch.

You search around the room for anything else to hide while your orc struggles to pull the tunic over his head, grunting as the effort causes him pain. You both freeze in place when you hear the faint but deafening sound of the old wood of your porch creaking under the weight of a boot. You jolt into action and pull your orc further into the cottage away from the door.

The look he’s giving you is terrifying, not at all unlike an animal being hunted. You’re sure you share a similar expression. You keep pushing his massive body into the hallway opposite the door, he’s obviously very conflicted, he doesn’t know if he should hide or stay with you. If he isn’t with you he can’t keep you safe, but if he doesn’t hide that will just leave you both in danger.

After a moment of deliberation he relents to your desperate pulling on his arm and follows you further into the hall until he reaches the only two other doors in your small cottage, the bathroom and the bedroom. Seeing his massive frame in your small hallway might have been funny any other time but now it only fills you with more dread, how the hell are you going to hide an entire orc?

You feel the orcs muscles tense and you grip harder on his arm when three deliberate knocks sound from the other side of the front door. You both stare at the door from the dark hallway, fear frozen, almost debilitated by the inevitability of the situation.

You squeeze past him, open the bedroom door and rush him inside. Motioning for him to just wait and be quiet, he looks back at you with eyes so apologetic, so worried, it makes your heart ache as the door clicks shut.

Another three knocks spike your nerves. Every step towards the imposing wooden door is taken with regret. You place your hand on the knob, breathe a deep breath in and then turn it to open the door.

The rush of cold air is definitely not the only reason your skin prickles. The knight from before stands on your porch, except this time he brought two friends, with their own horses and crossbows.

He eyes you with barely hidden disdain and you stare back as emotionless as you can muster.

He gauges your reaction for awhile, clearly wanting to see all the regret on your face from how you disrespected him earlier. You try to give him nothing but a blank expression, legs trying not to shake and hand clutching the doorknob. You break the silence by muttering,

“How can I help you, Sir?”

It’s hard to meet his gaze because when you do it's terribly obvious that it isn't just hatred in his eyes, he’s studying you. He makes it so clear that he knows you're hiding something and he isn't being fooled for a second about exactly what it is you’re hiding.

“Orcs have been spotted in this area, My lady. We are here to ensure your safety. May we come in?”

He states formally, his pleased expression lets you know how little both of you believe that. A tense moment passes before you harden your voice enough to say,

“Why would you need to come in my home?”

He only looks more pleased with himself, like he knows something you don’t. His condescending gaze lingers on you before he moves it over to the snow covered ground just a few meters away from your home.

Your nerves ignite again when you catch the blood stained snow on the ground, marking exactly where your orc was shot, your eyes follow the red trail in the snow all the way to your front door. You can barely will yourself to look back at the knight knowing he has noticed your breaths quicken and your posture tense even further.

When you do look him in the eyes, all amusement in them has disappeared and nothing but contempt and disgust remain. You try and slam the door shut but the knight is faster, he’s got you in a corner now, you’re desperate actions are as predictable as a game animal.

He overpowers you and slams the door open with his shoulder, you fall to the ground, only able to watch as the man steps into your home and closes the door behind him. You catch the apathetic gazes of the other two nights as the door clicks shut, ceiling you in your own house.

You kneel in front of the knight and do the only thing you can think to do now, you beg.

“Please, please. He's not dangerous, Please!”

Your tear soaked pleading awards you nothing but a vile look of disdain from the man standing above you, which only makes you sob harder. A crack sounds out in your home and your shoulder hits the floor, hand clutching your stinging cheek.

As the knight mumbles something about a "Filthy wench", all you can think about in that moment is how truly pathetic love makes a person, how pitiful it’s clutches render you. You don’t even brace for the boot that slams into your stomach, only cry out in pain at both the impact and the stab to your heart. There is a sudden jerk heard from further in the house, and you smother your cries with your hand but it’s too late.

The knights gaze is fixed to the hallway. He doesn’t look back at your body on the floor as he unsheathes his sword and stalks closer.

Animalistic fear spikes in your veins the closer he gets to the bedroom door. A cold rushing in your bones as your nerves fire. What does an animal do when it’s cornered, when all other options are exhausted? You’ve never felt so much hatred for a living thing before in your life. His steps get further and your instincts grow louder, you look around for anything to help you and your gaze fixes on the bow you left on the floor next to the door. You dropped it there while helping your orc inside, your orc who was bleeding out because of this man. You crawl towards the weapon and wobble to your feet, grabbing a lone arrow from the floor as well.

The knight must hear the staggered movements because he finally looks at you, body trembling, chest heaving, aiming an arrow right at his face with a carnally intense gaze.

The knight clicks his tongue, your ragged state must not scare him as much as it scares you. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn't need to, you can see all his emotions plain on his face, he knows he was right to treat you like an animal.

The knight doesn't take his gaze off you as he slowly places his hand on the doorknob and turns it, waiting for you to make a move. Your hands shake, the string isn’t pulled taught enough and your stance is wrong. Even if you had enough will to shoot you’d probably miss. The knight scoffs and opens the bedroom door.

A barrelling force slams the knight to the wall opposite the door, before he can yell, in pain or for backup, a green skinned hand covers the entire bottom half of his face, muffling any sound he could make. Your orc now stands in the hallway, knight held up to his chest, one arm restraining the knights arms and torso and the other hand covering his mouth.

The man struggles and struggles, letting out muffled yells as you stand stock still, arrow positioned to fire. Your orc looks into your eyes, as he holds the man tighter. He can see the turmoil in your eyes as the arrow shakes in your hold. Your orc tightens his hold on the man stopping his struggling and giving you a clear opening. Your gaze moves from the man to the orc, he looks at you with all the love he did before. You'll never know how he conveys such deep emotions with his eyes but it grounds you, stabilizes your nerves and steadies your aim. There is such love in his eyes but there is also pain, he looks sad, the saddest you’ve ever seen him. He thinks this is all his fault, he’s made his love a killer.

You pull the string taught, breathe one last breath as an innocent woman and let the arrow fly across the living room into the man’s chest. You don’t miss the heart like he did, he dies quickly, chokes and gargles muffled by your orcs hand as he falls limp.

The orc slowly lowers the body to the floor. Closing his eyes before mumbling something to the warm body. He then picks up the knights dropped sword, stepping towards you. You grab your quiver and the rest of your arrows, you don't meet the orcs gaze.

You put two fingers up and motion towards the door, he nods and takes position behind the closed door. You perch yourself behind the kitchen counter, some distance from the door.

A sizeable time is spent waiting in your positions, your muscles sting with the tense position as you try not look at the body in your hallway. You finally hear a knock on the door and a voice call out,

“Had your fun yet? It’s getting late.”

As the door is creaked open and the man steps inside, your orc strikes a blow to the back, stabbing the heart right through the ribs. The other knight yells for his friend and runs inside like a fool, he leaves himself wide open as he runs up the steps of the veranda and you shoot an arrow through his heart.

It’s cripplingly quiet for a long second after his body thuds to the floor at your doorway. The ease at which you've ended these men’s lives leaves a horrible surge in your stomach and a dull pain in your heart. You should feel at least comforted that you've saved your own in the process but the comfort never comes.

You walk to the middle of the living room, meeting your orc half way, he drops the sword and embraces you gently. You drop your bow and sob in his chest. There is no celebration, there is barely a sense of relief between you. Sighing, you rub your eyes and pull away to look into his eyes, and say softly,

“Leave together.”

He smiles sadly down at you and lightly kisses your forehead. He silently picks up the body of the last man killed and takes him outside. You watch the blood drip from the body as he carries it away.

You turn and walk to your room, taking a moment to stare at the body in the hallway before stepping over it. You open up the massive trunk in your bedroom that you use for storage and start taking out anything you don’t deem worthy of taking with you.

The lack of sentimental items in your house often made you sad, no gifts from family or friends, no souvenirs from far places or little useless trinkets, just the necessities. You never once thought this would be a good thing.

Opening your cupboard, you start pulling out clothes and shoving them in the massive trunk. You don’t have many clothes that aren’t essential so most of it gets tossed inside. As you're doing this, the thought of just how permanent this decision is weighs heavily on you. You can hear shuffling in the living room as your orc drags the other bodies out of your home and outside to be buried, you assume. It will take him at least an hour to dig the hole, the dirt should be just melted enough to dig without much issue, at least for him.

You head to the bathroom grabbing your toothbrush, medical supplies, products, lye soaps. You can hear the rhythmic sound of shovelling dirt just outside the small bathroom window. He must have found the spade you keep at the back of the cottage. You give the small room a final scan before closing the door.

You drag the heavy trunk across the floor into the living room and place a few too many books into the trunk, you doubt it’ll be easy for your orc to find Human Common books in orcish markets. You collect all the papers hastily shoved under the coach and retrieve your translation book. A throw blanket, various notebooks, pencils and everything that catches your eye for more than a second gets thrown into the trunk.

You head to the kitchen where you grab you favourite mugs, some hand made, some bought from the market, your red ceramic pot, your flask and some of your dried meats and teas before dumping it all inside. You look down at the pile of all your most loved possessions and feel an emptiness in your chest. This really was a rather empty life you’ve lived. You sigh and heave the lid of the trunk closed, latching all your belongings inside.

You grab the two coats on the coach, sling on your bow and quiver and lug the trunk onto the porch, dragging it down the few steps onto the snowy ground. The knight's horses must have trotted away by now, heading back home without their riders. You wonder if they had anyone waiting for them at home, a lover, children maybe? You won't be missed but will they?

You throw on your coat as the orc pats down the last pile of dirt before making his way to you. You meet his gaze with an apologetic look, reaching up to hold his cheeks. He bends down a little so you can reach and welcomes your touch. Your gaze moves down to his blood crusted tunic, a reminder of the inevitability of this outcome. You hold out his heavy coat and he takes it with a smile. He picks up the heavy trunk and makes it clear he will be carrying it the rest of the way.

You give one last forlorn look at your home before turning away, following your orc into the treeline and into your new life.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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#see now that wasn't so bad was it?#I think the next chapter is probably going to be the last one woohooooo!!#monster fucker #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #monster fucking #monster boyfriend #orc romance #orc x reader #orc x human #❆orc woodsman

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