#the generals who pray to me don’t realise that it’s a two edged sword

[excaliefur]

oh fuck y e s

here's a random word generator--whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

[namixart]

To start off 2019 with some positivity, I'm going to make a list of things that I absolutely love and make me happy in my favourite shows, movies, books, games etc. Small things, big things, no particular rhyme or reason. It was surprisingly therapeutic. Feel free to reblog and add your own!

Link being left-handed now let him use sign language Nintendo please

The entire Sector 6 Market section in Final Fantasy VII and the Honeybee Inn in particular

Zuko's character arc

The Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack

Final Fantasy X's worldbuilding

Everything about Disney's Mary Poppins it put me in a good mood for three days straight

How Percy absolutely adores his mum and is supportive of her relationship with Paul (after a while)

Edward Elric

(Yes. Just Edward Elric as a character, person, concept, actions...)

Major character design kink: boys with long (ish) blonde hair (see Edward, Link, Zidane, Howl)

Final Fantasy IX's soundtrack

Aerith and Tifa being close friends despite both being in love with Cloud

The Gentleman Bastard Sequence's worldbuilding

The fact that one of the characters in Zootopia speaks with my city's accent in the Italian dub (you never see it in any movie)

Final Fantasy IV's world being just vague enough that it tickles my creative bone to expand on it

Kingdom Hearts I using original storylines for the Disney Worlds

How Yato's eyes are very a very clear indication that he's a supernatural being in Noragami, being unnaturally light and bright

That one panel in the Kingdom Hearts II manga where an almost-naked Pete carries Maleficent bridal style out of the collapsing tower

Sleeping Beauty's art style and instrumental soundtrack

The fact that two super popular shonen manga/anime have leads who are super smart instead of being dumb muscle or the stock happy-go-lucky-not-very-bright protagonist (Fullmetal Alchemist and My Hero Academia)

How some of the Olympians like Hermes and Poseidon are so casual when interacting with mortals

The scene where the Spaceport is revealed in Treasure Planet and the look of the film in general

The first few chapters of the Yu-Gi-Oh! manga before card games took over the plot

People in the Gentleman Bastard Sequence being emotionally honest despite being literal con artists

The theatre motif in The Republic of Thieves

Cloud, Aerith and Tifa threatening Don Corneo, but especially Aerith saying that "she'll rip it off" if he doesn't cooperate

Locke and Jean becoming pirates in Red Seas Under Red Skies

The Hunger Games movies being the most accurate film adaptations I have seen in my life

The Kingdom Hearts soundtrack, especially the vocal tracks, Dearly Beloved and The Other Promise

Final Fantasy VI shoving you in what usually is the backstory of a videogame and literally destroying the world

Edward defending Mustang when he had his sight taken from him despite them having spent 90% of their screentime together bickering

Tony Stark and Peter Parker's relationship in the MCU

Sophie throwing a tantrum after she realises she's in love with Howl and creating deadly weedkiller to express those feelings

Darcy being a goddamn social Disaster in every incarnation of Pride and Prejudice

The relationship between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye

The Once Upon a December sequence from Anastasia

The mere existence of Zamira Drakasha and Ezri Delmastro and everything they represent

Sokka's role as both the strategist and the goofball in the Gaang

Peter Parker sharing a hot dog with Loki when he could have asked for anything because Loki owed him a favour

How the plot of Kingdom Hearts is so ridiculous we don't even question it anymore

Enormous muscly men I can still categorise as "super adorable and sweet" (Major Armstrong, All Might)

Howl being the biggest drama queen in the book

My Hero Academia's fantasy AU ending

Spider-Man (PS4) nailing the Friendly Neighbourhood Spidey aspect of the character and letting him interact with civilians

That moment when I was sure Bakugou was going to join the League of Villains but then he didn't and I've never been happier about being wrong my entire life

Zuko practising before asking the Gaang to join them

SNAP SNAP SPARK SPARK

Harry's wonder at every new thing in the Wizarding World

The fact that Spider-Man's backstory could just as easily be that of a villain but instead he's a hero and he has the biggest heart

Jake and Amy being in an Adult and Communicative relationship while still being themselves and each other's best friend

Winry being just as much of a prodigy as Ed and Al and building Ed's automail at 11 years old

Percy Jackson starting out as a standard straight white kids' series and Riordan adding ALL THE DIVERSITY as soon as it got popular enough that Disney couldn't say no

Charlie Weasley just outright trespassing into Hogwarts to smuggle an illegal dragon out

The soul and essence of Pride and Prejudice being passive-aggressiveness and sarcasm

Apollo's haikus in Trials of Apollo

Every scene using Deep Canvas in Tarzan

Winry and Edward's diametrically opposed reactions to the realisation they're in love ("Oh I guess I've fallen for him alright moving on" vs "Fuckfuckfuckfuck oh shit no why oh god aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh")

Lilo & Stitch's watercolour backgrounds

The fact that Roy Mustang's womanising persona is a facade to hide the fact that he's a) a huge nerd, b) going to overthrow the government and c) in love with his lieutenant

The "makings of greatness" speech in Treasure Planet

Spider-Man (PS4)'s swelling score as you start web swinging

The Battle of 1000 Heartless in Kingdom Hearts II

Sophie proudly describing Howl to Abdullah, him assuming she was listing flaws and her getting angry about it

Edward and Alphonse being atheists despite having literally met their version of God

The fact that Amajiki is one of the top three hero students despite his crippling anxiety

Rubicante recognising Edge as a warrior and apologising for Lugae's horribleness

Edge unlocking new powers out of sheer rage

Sora throwing a tea party at the end of Dream Drop Distance while his best friend was still asleep

The backstory in Skyward Sword about Hylia and the first Link

The "immoral manga" omake in Fullmetal Alchemist

The School Festival arc in My Hero Academia, Eri finally smiling and Deku and Mirio being the best big brothers I've ever seen

Kingdom Hearts III finally coming out this month

McGonagall's cat form resembling her human form

Edward finally breaking down at the end of Fullmetal Alchemist god I love this boy so much he has such a big heart

The Enlarged Suit Scene from Howl's Moving Castle

Most of Howl’s Moving Castle is a delight to be honest

Kairi's reaction at the news that she would be training with Axel in A Fragmentary Passage

The bonfire scene in Cosmo Canyon from Final Fantasy VII

Uraraka deciding not to focus on her crush on Deku in order to grow as a hero

Rydia summoning Titan and raising a mountain at the ripe age of seven in Final Fantasy IV

The friendship between Percy, Annabeth and Grover

Kairi and Lea looking like they're going to be a team in Kingdom Hearts III

Greed (at least the second one) claiming that his goal in life is to have everything when in fact he only ever really wanted friends

The Main Theme of Final Fantasy playing during the scene where the characters not in the final battle pray for the party in Final Fantasy IV

The Overture from Phantom of the Opera

Locke Lamora from the Gentleman Bastard Sequence being named after Locke Cole from Final Fantasy VI

Luna Lovegood never having to change who she is and remaining weird and happy

Terra Branford becoming more human by feeling not romantic love but maternal love for a bunch of orphaned children

The "You're not alone" scene from Final Fantasy IX

Darcy respecting Elizabeth's refusal of his first proposal and working to become a better person after she points out his many flaws

Neku learning to open up to people in The World Ends With You and literally saving Shibuya through character development

Bakugou's slow development into a better person

The sketchy animation during Disney's Dark Age

The official character artwork for Skyward Sword

Harry and Sirius's relationship

Spider-Man being a street-level hero and being super humble even though he can literally lift Thor's hammer

That little high-five between Sora and Remy in the 30 seconds trailer for Kingdom Hearts III

Rosa and Rydia immediately ignoring the boys' order to not come to the Moon and stowing away on the Lunar Whale

Plus Edge's adorable "Y-you're here too!?" in the DS remake

Cloud not being allergic to smiling and joking around in the original Final Fantasy VII ("Let's mosey!")

Thor and Loki starting to mend their relationship in Ragnarok

Into The Spider Verse has a scene where Miles uses Spider-Man comic books to figure out how to use his powers and it's the best and I love it

You know what, Into The Spider Verse as a whole because I saw it a while back and I'm still gushing

[mayhemories]

Braids & War Paint (Part 13)

Notes On:

Part 1: / Part 2: / Part 3: / Part 4: / Part 5: / Part 6: / Part 7: / Part 8: / Part 9:/ Part 10: / Part 11: / Part 12: / Part 12.5 (smush, not smut, not fluff but smush) 

The darkness of the night suited Lorcan, he enjoyed laying and listening, even though Lorcan wasn’t full Fae his hearing was ever so slightly different to that of a human. He could hear the owls cooing, the untamed waves casting themselves upon the stone cliffs. The smell of salt, sulphur and the tang of so many bodies and blood. In the distance Lorcan could just grasp the twang of the Bane and their fires, crackling and causing gaudy songs of white stags and victory to shrill out into the night.  

Their vigour was something Lorcan could barley comprehend, they had ridden for a day or two, then gone into battle and then built an encampment the same size as Maeve’s own in record time. All this work, and yet they still won’t shut up.

A shudder ripped through Lorcan’s body like a rabid animal. His godly advisor, Hellas, had Lorcan on high alert. His left hand slithered under his pillow drawing the sharp blade out from underneath it, blade in hand, Lorcan quickly got to his feet.  

Lorcan was in the middle of tying his boots up when he felt it. Gods above, he felt it before he heard it.  

It was a tremor or a crack. He couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling, an earthquake wrapped in magic and evil. It threw Lorcan onto his back, as he lay there groaning as the sound followed it. Like thunder after the lightning, it roared like a tortured beast, clawing its way into Lorcan’s mind. Lorcan winced at the intenseness of the roaring surge of evil.  

As it clashed into the night Lorcan struggled back to his feet, knife in hand, he ran out of his tent.  

Soldiers, page boys, cooks and healers ran frantically. Lorcan had one location in mind. The Cliffside.  

“Lorcan! Where are you going?” Fenrys grabbed Lorcan’s arm as he tried to push past the commotion.  

“Cliffside, better view.” Lorcan gruffly spat as he wrung his muscle-corded arm from Fenrys’ grip and continued his trek to the edge of their encampment.  

As Lorcan neared the tree line a small silhouette caught his eye.  

Small in stature, female, defiantly not from Doranelle. Lorcan sniffed the air, trying to grasp anything of her scent, manoeuvring his blade as he did so.  

She smelt of cunning and intelligence, human and yet not at the same time. Lorcan felt his eyes narrow as he realised, she is defiantly not Valg.  

She watched out at sea, obscuring any view of the Valg ships from Lorcan.  

“At ease, I belong to Her Majesty’s court.” The woman said, still not turning to face him. Lorcan balked at her tone before he swiftly emerged from the shrubbery and stood alongside her. The accent gave her away, she was of Aelin the Fire-Breathing-Bitch-Queen’s court. Of course she was.  

Lorcan could not see much out at sea, save for a large pale light on one of the Valg ships. It was enough to ensure Lorcan’s suspicions were right- The Valg have already used their countermove against them. They have played their move, whatever it was, it would be catastrophic for Wendlyn as well as Aelin’s people.  

“You heard it too?” The woman asked, finally she turned and looked up at Lorcan. She was very… pretty. It wasn’t that Lorcan hadn’t had experience with women, gods forbid he’s had his fair share, he just didn’t care too much for harlots or nobles.  

“It was like nothing I have ever heard before, I came to the-“ Lorcan was cut off by the pretty woman of the Terrasen court.  

“High ground to get a look,” She smirked at him, crossing her arms across her chest and quirking an eyebrow. Gods, were all women in that court so… entitled? “Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth, Her Majesty’s tactician.”  

Lorcan glanced down, one of her legs from the knee down was made of metal clogs and bronze bits and pieces. Elide Lochan, the half-human blushed at his inquisitive glare.  

Lorcan flared his nostrils a little as he met her eyes again.

“Lorcan Salvaterre, Commander of Queen Maeve’s blood-bound.”  

“Lorcan,” Galan came storming through the bushes before halting at the sight of his cousin’s tactician. “Lady Elide, excuse me for the interruption but Queen Maeve has requested your presence, Lorcan.” Galan said, standing awkwardly.  

“We shall continue this conversation later-“ Lorcan had nearly finished his sentence before Elide cut him off yet again.  

“If your queen is calling on you then my queen will most certainly expect my attendance.” Elide said as she walked away, Galan and Lorcan trailing in her wake.  

She was quite like thunder, herself.  

Lysandra quickly removed her hand out of Aedion’s as they approached Maeve’s war tent, luckily the General and herself hadn’t removed their battle leathers.  

The shapeshifter had been asleep when the roar from the earth sounded. She hoped wherever Aelin was Rowan was with her too. Aelin had always been a risk taker, had always been incredibly smart and most of the time her plans went perfectly, since the King and the Crown Prince and Crown Princess all passed into the next world Aelin had become wilder than ever before, more willing to risk, more willing to gamble her life. Lysandra had no idea how Rowan did it, but he settles Aelin. She gains all hundred percent of her rationale back when she is with him. Lysandra hadn’t seen Aelin this… happy since Sam, even then, Sam never caused Aelin to want to turn every ocean’s tide, Sam never made Aelin want to turn back the hand of every clock, sharpen every arrow, polish every boot, tame every stallion, count every grain of sand or wish on every star.  

Aelin had found her soul bound and Lysandra couldn’t be happier for her queen, for her flame-cloaked empress. Her friend.  

Aedion and Lysandra opened the heavy linen flaps to the war tent. Maeve was red in the face bent over maps and Aelin was grinding her teeth.  

Lysandra opened her mouth to ask about the situation, however, Elide caught her eyes and the look on her face said it all.  

They were done for.  

“And what do you suggest, Aedion?” Galan asked chewing his lip in anticipation, struggle was written all over the young prince’s face.  

“I suggest whatever my queen believes is the best cause of action.” Aedion answered curtly, placing a gloved hand on his sword’s pommel. Aelin’s haunting Ashryver eyes flashed towards them.  

Maeve looked just about ready to snap.  

“It is not enough, come sunrise we all perish.” Maeve stated, running a milky hand over maps and papers.  

“No.” Was Aelin said. She stood straight, jaw locked. That’s when Lysandra knew. Aelin had her hair braided, a leather band wrapped around her forehead. Her fighting leathers still strapped and all her weapons were strapped to her body. She had a plan all along. Aelin had anticipated this, whatever this was Aelin had counted on it happening.  

“Aelin-“ Rowan said touching Aelin’s shoulder in a questioning manner. Aelin looked Maeve in the eyes, a young queen and a queen of myth, face to face.  

“Come sunrise I call on those who are willing to lay down their lives to end this before it truely begins, come sunrise those who have offered me their swords will come and will perish, come sunrise we shall devour those who stand in our path.” Aelin reached under her fighting leathers and pulled the Amulet of Orynth.  

Maeve’s eyes widened at the sight of it.  

“You have one.” Maeve stated, Aelin nodded. The Wyrdstones.  

“You also have one, do you not?” Aelin asked, looking pointedly at the bronze ring that sat on Maeve’s right hand.  

Maeve stiffened, yet looked back down at her papers.

“Yes, I don’t know where the last one is.” Maeve stated. Lysandra expected annoyance and agony from the thought of starting a fight they could not win.  

But Aelin just started laughing. It was low and rough and it unnerved Lysandra.  

“You might not, but I certainly do.” Aelin said, her grin almost canine as she relished in out smarting the immortal queen.  

“Our queen doesn’t appreciate your games, Aelin Galathynius.” Said the tall, dark and handsome commander of Maeve’s sniffer dogs, Lorcan Salvaterre.  

“If I was playing a game you’d know it, Salvaterre.” Aelin said, quirking an eyebrow before laying a nail on the bay on Maeve’s map.  

“Sunrise. Here. Tomorrow. Terrasen plays no games, we paint the brushstrokes of war.” Aelin stated. It was the kind one, Gavriel, who spoke up next:

“You believe that Terrasen will be able to defeat the Valg?” Gavriel questioned, his bright hair fell out of his bun and into his eyes.  

“No, but anyone who dons a braid, anyone who fights with war paint. They will be blessed and they will fight well.” Aelin answered, Lysandra knew that passage all too well, Brannon’s Promise To Elena. A famous poem within the realms of Terrasen and Adarlan alike. Lysandra knew what that passage meant, for all of them.  

Lysandra slowly placed her hand into Aedion’s again, she sent a prayer to every god and goddess, she sent a wish to anyone or anything that would listen that the reward would be worth the carnage.  

That passage held a promise Lysandra cringed to think about.  

As soon as Elide was alone in her tent she checked them. She quickly pulled the latch open on her trunk and unwrapped them from their cloth coverings.

The witch mirrors that Manon had given her at the ball, all were intact, not a single chip or a crack in their frames.

If Aelin heeded her counsel, then the mirrors would be ready. Elide was afraid, so terribly afraid that she wouldn’t be strong enough. Even though there was blue somewhere in her blood, she bleed red. Gods, Elide prayed to the Three-Faced Goddess and to Anielle and she prayed for Manon and the thirteen, she prayed for Aelin, Rowan, Aedion, Lysandra, Nox, The Adarlan allies, Nehemia and those Aelin had became friends with in the desert, she prayed for those of the wastes. Elide prayed her plan went well.

Elide knew that too much blood on her conscious would tip her off the moral scales.

Gods, if she could be granted one wish, is that their plan would work. That Elide wouldn’t have to carry the imagery of innocent blood.

Elide climbed into her cot, and excepted the fact she wouldn’t be sleeping.

I’m sorry this probably isn’t as good as you guys would’ve expected. And there’s shite editing because I re-wrote half of this chapter at 2:00am. So please don’t hate me.

As always this part was written for: @bbyshadowbat @aelin-and-feyre @rowanismybae @sparkleywonderful @cassiancalore  @igniscorde7112  @illyrian-high-lord  @daughterxofxnight @bigsis227 @crazybookladythings @gcarroll @sugarcoated44 @wolffrising @notjustanyoldfangirl @bluephoenix222 @readinglikewildfire @fck-tamlin @and-re123

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 700 FOLLOWERS, I’LL TRY TO BE BETTER AT UPLOADING, Y’ALL MEAN SO MUCH TO ME.  THIS IS NEARLY 2000 WORDS I HOPE IT WAS ENJOYABLE TO AN EXTENT :) THIS FANFIC IS WINDING UP, WHICH IS SAD BUT THAT MEANS NEW FANFICS CAN COME OUT SO IF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU WANT TO SEE, WISH TO SEE PLEASE HIT UP MY ASK BOX WITH A REQUEST :)

[helloitsmefay]

Chapter 1: A Brutal Wake-Up Call

In the end of last year, I prayed that 2017 would be a great year filled with good memories, and valuable lessons. There was really nothing in particular that I prayed for. So while 2017 did serve up some pretty good moments, it did not forget to throw in a couple of learning curves, and honestly it really caught me sideways.

As nervous as I am to be writing this, I feel it is important to share stories that help. Stories that can give insight, and perspective. I went through a very dark time this year. The last time I felt this isolated and dark was a couple of years back when a certain medication I was on started exacerbating my already pre-existing symptoms. The different thing about this year was the severity of my condition.

It slowly began creeping up on me early this year until I finally knew what it felt like to hit “rock bottom”. You see, I had to hit rock bottom hard on my face to know how strong I was to get myself back up. Being in such a dark place tested my personality, my values, and my perspective. The whole embodiment of who I was and what I stood for was put to the test.  

I was pretty good at keeping everything under wraps until I started unraveling so much, I could no longer keep up with myself. And my mom’s dreaded fears materialised again, I was depressed. I know what it’s like to give up on everything, and everyone. It was a tough patch, but here I am now, in probably the clearest state of mind I have been in in such a while. It’s a slow recovery, but I believe there is no such thing as small progress. Every little thing counts as progress, and I kept my eyes right on the prize. While it felt like I lost the battle countless times, it was important I made sure I won the war.

Once I realised the following lessons I picked up this year, I swear things started getting easier. Our generation already carries so much it’s no surprised why we are so prone to getting overwhelmed, anxious and bloody burnt out at some point.

Here’s what this year helped me realize. I hope this post maybe gives you some insight, too.

1. Social Media is a double-edged sword.

Life is not what it always seems through someone’s instagram feed. That account that’s always traveling and that luxury account that always has a new bag purchase? They might be both heavily in debt and living with that crippling anxiety - but they’re so addicted to the attention they’ll sacrifice their peace for it. Nobody’s life is perfect. Even with my good judgement on most things, I still let the good and bad side to get to me. So, like pulling a splinter out of a wound, I stopped social media cold turkey, and took a break to focus on things that matter. Things that will give me perspective. I spent time with my family, I reconnected with some that I haven’t checked up on in a long time, I took a good look at who my real friends are and who really is worth investing irreplaceable time with. I took some time to get my life in order. It was refreshing. I never knew how addicted this generation was until I experienced the withdrawal myself and noticed how better I felt emotionally.

2. Don’t sell your real friends for “friends” with “benefits”

I don’t have to dive-in deep with this one. There is nothing more selfish and self-damaging in the long term by trading your friends for a social circle that serves a higher agenda to you. I know it’s easy to get sucked into peer pressure and feeling like you need to make it up the ranks. But you know, we need to learn to live with less of this ego and belief that we are entitled to this superiority on the expense of our real, and valuable relationships. The sad reality is that nothing concrete results from friendships like that. And once you don’t serve their agenda, you’ll be forgotten about and pushed out.

3. Stay the hell away from toxic people, regardless of their proximity to you.

We all know these kinds of people. The manipulative, jealous and two-faced type that consciously and subconsciously suck the energy right out of your bones (and braincells).  Two words: CANCEL THEM. It’s very important to weed people like them out of your life because you won’t realise just how much of a toll their negative energy and drama takes out of you until you get sidetracked from the good things happening in your life. Or until it’s too late and you’ve already sabotaged that. It’s never too late to realise you deserve better and that nobody who truly loves and appreciates you and your company would go to inexplicable lengths to directly or indirectly make your life miserable. Take no shit from anyone. I lost touch with who I considered toxic people in my life and honestly, I am doing much better in my relationships with people, and I am no longer bothered with their drama or being collateral damage as a result of their baggage.

4. Those who matter, will always be there.

I have come to learn in life that it’s not really about who you most spend time with, it’s about who stands with you when the time matters. I personally have friends that I really don’t keep in touch with, but when I come across adversity or even go after something, I find them there with me, having my back. Even if its down to a few people, you don’t need the acceptance of a village to give you support or validation. The older I get, the more I realize I am truly content with the love and support from the tight circle I have. Also, this made me feel no shame in asking for help when I was at my lowest point, because I knew this tight circle would help me back up on my two feet, and not judge me or patronize me, and that was such a relief. To be fair, having a genuine support system makes me feel like I can be a great version of myself around them both in the good times and in the bad times. Never equate the quality of your friendships with the quantity. I know I am bad at math and at calculating, but even I’ve figured this one out.

5. Give love, and you will get it back. Just don’t expect it from specific people.

I learned this year that love is the key, love is everything, love is what makes us, love is what grows us and love is what - as cheesy as it sounds - saves us. I am not talking specifically about romantic love, while that is a bonus, it’s not really everything. At some point in my life, I was bottled up with so much toxicity and negative feelings it was disrupting the true essence of who I was. I realised I was spending my time not pouring love into things or into people enough. From that moment, I made it a point in life to tell everyone who mattered to me that I loved them. Screw our culture’s fear of love! I went all in for it, guys and girls, I told them they mattered and that I love them, and I told them for the most time I saw them. Without putting into account their feelings, I felt really good when I projected those good vibes. When I made sure I knew I loved what I was wearing or doing, I felt better about myself and I indeed carried myself better, and saw the world in a more optimistic perspective. And to be honest, I didn’t put any expectation to get it back from certain people because that was not the point. It was something that I wanted to do with no expectation. However, the biggest mission of all though, is making sure every single day that I wholeheartedly love myself. There’s so much love to give to the world, and during these turbulent times with racism and discrimination, we need this. We need love. The Beatles had it all figured out in a line “All you need is love”. Love is the answer.

6. Finally, you do you.

First and foremost, you are your own best friend before anyone else. You are the focus of your story. Time wasted is time you will never have back, so why spend it doing things to satisfy others? Self-care is super important. Putting yourself on a pedestal is the best thing you can do for yourself. Beware of becoming borderline selfish, but it’s good to make time to yourself, and do things for yourself, and act the way you want to.. FOR YOURSELF. There is nobody else on this planet you owe moments of your life to. It will be really hard to get into this mindset at the start if you’ve been the kind that always was a people pleaser, and yes, I bet you it will be difficult and it might get you in a sticky situation or two. In the long run though, the peace of mind and lack of regret you will have will be the most priceless thing you can ask for. Screw society and conformity. You express yourself the way you see fit, and don’t let anyone’s words or actions invalidate your desire to be the person you want to be. I’m still working on this, but I am slowly seeing the results, and honestly, it’s worth it every time.  

[monstersandmaw]

Male uruk hai x reader (sfw)  - Part Two

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

So this is long overdue (I meant to release this in time for Orctober, but life had other ideas...), but I finally got round to editing all 4056 words of it! This boy is a bit different from my other orcs before. He's a bit rough around the edges, and has had a harsh, violent life, and his clan is not kind. There's some violence and fighting in this, and some injuries, but not excessive descriptions of gore, I don't think, and no harm to the reader.

I'm really pleased with how this one turned out, and, as ever, it previewed over on my Patreon for my wonderful Pixies and Goblins. Now it’s Tumblr’s turn! I really hope you enjoy it, and yes, there will be a Part Three. I now have plans for this boy and his reader...

Part One

You awoke in the Uruk camp to the sounds of pots clanking, boots tramping, training swords ringing, and the general murmur and hubbub of life in a raiding party. A goat bleated mournfully somewhere, and the harsh wind that swept across the high, barren plateau made the tent canvases snap and crack.

It was truly desolate, and, feeling utterly miserable, you sank further down into your furs and blankets, praying they’d forget about you so that you wouldn’t have to go out into the chilly air just yet. The furs behind you were pungent enough that you wrinkled your nose, and as you shuffled, you realised that the warg was still curled up beside you. She hadn’t moved all night, and, despite the smell, there was something rather sweet about that.

Dawn flashed through the tent flaps as someone entered, and you scowled and turned your face away from the brilliant, harsh light of the Barren Lands as it seared briefly across your face. The warg didn’t budge an inch as you tried to roll over and subsequently couldn’t. At the sudden blast of daylight, she too growled and shifted her head on top of your legs with a soft huff of complaint.

A rough chuckling made you both look up, blinking, and you saw Mauhír towering over you, a wooden bowl in his hands. “Sleep?” he asked gruffly, and you nodded.

“I can’t sit up,” you smiled, feeling stiff and tender all over from the terrible journey to the encampment and the orcs’ rough treatment of you upon arrival.

He frowned, and then barked something in Uruk at the warg. She wagged her ragged, stumpy tail and promptly snuggled closer to you. At that, his face set into a fierce snarl, the effect accentuated by the vicious twist of his scarred lips and the blankness of his blind eye. He set down the bowl and grabbed the scruff of her neck, snarling into her face the same command again, but with a vitriol that took your breath away this time. If you’d thought that this Uruk was gentler than the others, you saw now that he had the power and temperament to match even the fiercest Uruk in the camp if need be.

The warg, however, simply pushed herself nonchalantly upright and shook out her coat with a little grunt of effort, as though the whole ordeal were really very taxing, and the Uruk was simply the most inconvenient imposition she could have imagined. Before she moved away, she lowered her head one more time and snuffed almost affectionately at your neck before wandering off, snapping her powerful jaws in Mauhír’s face as she left as a parting shot.

He growled low in his throat at her as she passed, but made no other comment.

“Aren’t you afraid of them?” you whispered, honestly awestruck at the exchange between the two. “How can you stand up against that?”

“I must,” he said awkwardly, “She can eat me. She have to know… I lead. She obey.”

You shuddered.

“Don’t… afraid. Not me,” he said, shoulders dropping slightly. The effect of that one small shift softened his whole demeanour. “Here,” he murmured, and dropped to a crouch to nudge the bowl of some kind of gloopy looking, grain-based porridge, with indeterminate lumps and chunks folded into it, towards you with his scarred knuckle.

“Mmm,” you said sarcastically as you eyed the viscous sludge and felt your stomach churn ominously. “Looks… delicious.”

“Strong,” he said, startling you by taking your face in one rough, dirty hand and tilting it upwards by the chin. He felt the shock of fear go through you, but he didn’t release you. “Need strong,” he said, jabbing a finger into your bicep for extra emphasis.

“Strength,” you corrected angrily, lurching your face out of his grasp in a weak display of rebellion. “I need my strength, you mean.”

He cocked his head slightly at that. “You need…” he tried to complete the phrase but his knowledge of Common grammar failed him, and he snarled, hiding his face from you as he turned away in shame.

“‘You need your strength’,” you clarified, speaking a little more gently this time. “That’s what you meant to say, isn’t it?”

“Not speak your… words,” he growled, frustration darkening his features.

“I could teach you,” you found yourself saying. “If you want.”

He looked back at you, surprised at that, but shook his head again. “Not need.” Mauhír then abruptly stood and walked straight out of the tent without a backward glance. Once outside, an earsplitting whistle rent the air, and the warg growled and heaved herself reluctantly to her feet, grumbling to herself all the while. She was his beast then, you surmised.

Your first week with the Uruks was honestly awful.

You were set to waiting on them at meal times, and each time you passed around the circle of seated Uruks around the campfire, males and females alike grabbed for you, leered at you, and put their filthy hands on you, laughing when you flinched in disgust. Mauhír never touched you, nor did he try and speak to you again. In fact, for a solid week, he ignored you completely. Only the warg seemed to acknowledge you as another living being, sleeping every night by your side. The heat, if not the smell, was a great comfort, and you came to realise that she was a highly intelligent predator, and had a startling degree of empathy towards you. The fact that she sassed Mauhír in every way she possibly could was also hugely gratifying to watch, though you could tell she had an affection and grudging respect for the Uruk.

The orcs largely kept you separated from the humans from your village, but the baker’s daughter, who had been helping prepare the food, grabbed your arm one evening and fell, sobbing, into your embrace. You’d finished clearing away the used platters from the orcs’ supper, and you and she had been scrubbing them clean in the tiny, freezing brook that ran across the plains in a shallow, rocky bed. Behind you the lights of the camp flickered, the thin light of the torches wavering and dancing in the night breezes, and the sound of drunken laughter rose from the bonfire at the heart of the camp behind the crude palisade walls.

“I can’t bear this any longer,” Erica wailed, her cheek pressed against your chest. “I’ve heard nothing about the others! I don’t know what happened to them! I… I can’t…”

Her father and brother had been among those sent away as tribute to the other Uruk clan, and this was the first time she - or you for that matter - had truly been alone. “You must bear it,” you urged. “You must be strong. We’ll find a way to escape, I promise. Just stay strong.”

A heavy footfall in the dry grass behind you made you stiffen, and she yelped in horror as a harsh, female voice laughed, “What’s this? If you two want to fuck each other, you’ll have to do it in front of everyone. Slaves are for entertainment after all!”

You turned and your heart plummeted as you saw that it was Mauhír’s sister, Okash. She stood in her usual tight, tattered leathers, with a long, dirty looking knife hanging in its sheath from a hook on her belt.

Something hot and defensive bubbled up inside you, and you snarled at her, putting Erica behind your back to shield her. “Are you so heartless?” you sneered. “Are you so cold and cruel that you can’t see when someone’s hurting?”

“Oh I can practically smell the hurt on her, human!” she cackled, taking a step forwards. “And sex is a great way to forget hurt. Come on, shall I show you how it’s done? I could start with you…”

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed fiercely, standing your ground. “Don’t you dare touch me. Or her.”

“I like you,” she crooned, obviously finding that spark of defiance attractive in you. “Oh I like you. I see why my brother is so taken with you.”

As if called by the very mention of him, Mauhír’s figure appeared out of the deepening dusk behind her. He growled something in Uruk speech, and she laughed.

“Leave them both be?” she mocked in Common, turning and balling up her fists. “How about I fight you for them, dear brother?” she said still speaking Common, obviously knowing he had difficulty understanding it, if not quite as much as speaking it. “How about I carve your other eye out? Then you’ll need a little human to help you get around, feed you, and dress you, like an old man who shames his clan and refuses to go out and die.”

Mauhír snapped.

He hurled himself at Okash with an orcish war cry that sent goosebumps shivering up your arm, and made Erica scream. Tackling his sister to the ground with another roar and punching her in the gut, Mauhír did not hold back. Okash, however, simply tensed her impressive abs and his fist practically ricocheted off. The fight grew uglier and nastier the longer it lasted. Mauhír, it seemed from Okash’s bellowed insults, hadn’t fought anyone in hand-to-hand combat in a long time, and she had clearly been hoping he was out of practice.

He was.

Mauhír took a pounding from his sister, but there was one moment when you thought Mauhír might just win. Or even kill her. He brought his elbow swinging across towards her face in a vicious attack, and at the moment of impact, you heard something crack. She screamed with shock and rage, reeling back and bringing her hand to her face. When she pulled it away, you saw that Mauhír had cracked off the larger of her twin tusks on the left side of her face. Blood ran down his forearm from the gash that the impact had made in his elbow, but he paid it no heed.

Her eyes flared red with rage, and as she went to draw the knife from its sheath, you screamed, “No!”

Before you could process the fact that you’d yelled inexplicably in his defence, the massive figure of Mauhír’s great warg leapt snarling into the fray and hauled Okash off her brother by wrapping her jaws around Okash’s throat, though she didn’t grip hard enough to puncture.

Mauhír’s face was puffed up and bloody, tender bruises already blossoming all over his cheeks and eye sockets, but he had left his mark on Okash in more ways than the broken tusk. She bore a split lip as well as her shattered tusk, and she gasped suddenly as she tried to twist out of the warg’s maw. Her ribs might be cracked, you realised from the way she clutched instinctively at them. She yelled and spat curses at Mauhír, and he eventually called off his warg with a grunted command, still lying on his back.

Okash stood carefully and spat first at him, and then at you and the terrified woman still standing mute behind you, and stormed back off the the camp to lick her wounds.

You and Erica stood there for a few seconds while the warg approached Mauhír and began to lick at his bloodied face. He was breathing erratically, and with some difficulty. Finally you took a step towards him, but Erica grabbed your wrist. “Leave him,” she hissed. “Leave him. He’s a mess. We can run. Okash won’t be back - she doesn’t care for him at all - and we can run!”

You looked at the barren, empty lands around you, and then back at Mauhír. He had one golden eye - barely able to open because of the swelling - fixed on you. He raised his hand and pointed due east. His finger trembled with the effort. “River,” he grunted. “Follow. Centaurs that way. Help you.”

You turned to Erica. “Go. Take this chance. You’ll never get another.”

“But what about you?” she asked, blue eyes wide with fear and awe.

You looked back at Mauhír lying beaten, broken, and bleeding in the grass. “I can’t. I can’t leave him. Not after what he did for us. I’ll stay and work out a way for the rest of us to join you. Go and warn the centaurs. Go!” you said, shoving her to get her moving.

She ran, and you crossed to Mauhír’s side.

Kneeling down in the grass beside him, you winced at the sight of his injuries.

“Leave,” he wheezed.

“I can’t leave you,” you said again. “You need to get those injuries treated.” The warg looked up at you with her reddish eyes and whined. “I know, girl,” you chuckled. “He’s an idiot, isn’t he?”

She nuzzled your cheek and then looked back at her master.

“Can you stand?” you asked.

He nodded gruffly and you slid your body under his arm as he pushed himself shakily to his feet. The warg came and stood on his other side and he leaned his weight against her as the three of you began your procession back to the camp. You weren’t stopped as you entered, but a few cheers went up from the fire, and Okash hurled an empty clay wine jar over at you.

Mauhír looked up just in time, and shoved you out of the way. You hit the dirt hard, sprawling and scuffing your palms on the rough ground with a sting that made you gasp, but the wine jar shattered at his feet, right where you’d been standing a moment before. He held his hand out to you, and you took it shakily. “Thanks,” you murmured, but he only looked away and let go of you.

Okash yelled another torrent of abuse at him in the Uruks’ guttural dialect until their father stood up and cuffed her around the head and told her off, much to the general amusement of the gathered Uruks around the fire. She stomped away towards the healer’s tent, presumably to get her cracked tusk filed down or something.

Not knowing quite what to do, you followed Mauhír into his father’s large tent and hung back as he staggered over to a large hammered iron basin in one corner and washed the blood off his hands and face.

“So…” you said, hanging back by the doorway. “Just how angry is your sister?”

He turned around, squinting to see you through the puffy skin around his remaining eye. He held his finger and thumb together in front of him, with a small gap between them. “Every day,” he said, and then he opened both arms as wide as he could, palms facing each other, creating a wide space between them this time, and said, “Now.”

You had to laugh, and you were relieved when he let out a winded chuckle too.

“Seriously, you didn’t have to hurt each other so badly,” you scolded, crossing over to him. The warg growled softly as you approached, and she moved to put herself between her wounded master and you, but you looked at her and clicked your tongue at her. “Tsk-tsk,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Cut that out,” you snapped. “Remember I’m on your side here, girl, ok? You pretty much asked me to help him back there.” And to your immense surprise, she grumped once more, and lay down with her muzzle on her paws, the big ring in her nose glinting in the low light of the tent.

Mauhír was practically goggling at you when you turned back to him.

“What?” you asked. “That was rude…”

He just blinked.

You sighed. “You said it yourself, you know? ‘I lead. She obey’… right?”

“I lead,” he said, jabbing his thumb against his chest. “Not you.”

You smirked and said, “Sit down before you fall down, and let me take care of your wounds, alright? It’s the least I can do after you went to all that trouble to let Erica get away.”

“Slow…” he pleaded, frowning and gesturing with his hands. “You word so… fast… I… I not…” he tapped his temple.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve always been told I speak too quickly. Alright,” you added, placing your hand on his bare upper arm and steering him towards the furs where he usually slept. “Let me deal with your wounds, alright?”

He nodded reluctantly and sat down on a nearby pile of furs. The warg came over to join you, and he leaned his back to rest against the warg’s side, winded by the pain in his bruised chest.

“What’s her name?” you asked conversationally as you began to gather the things you’d need to clean his injuries up. None of them looked bad enough to need stitches, thank goodness, but a good clean cloth was hard to come by. When you eventually found some - a human-sized shirt that you dug up from a chest of random odds and ends in the corner of the tent - you came back to him and found he was asleep.

Smiling, you dabbed water on the wounds and he hissed, coming awake with a growl. His hand flashed and grabbed your throat, engulfing your windpipe with no effort at all, but the moment you cried out, he let you go looking horrified with himself. “Sorry,” he grunted. “I… I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” you croaked, rubbing your neck. “I probably shouldn’t have startled you like that.”

After a deep breath and a stern look at him, you leaned over him and took in the monstrous scarring across his face. The paler gashes of scar tissue began on his close-shaved scalp, well behind his gnarled stump of a left ear, down over his forehead, claiming his blind left eye and leaving it sitting like a moonstone amid a torn up gully of scars. The scarring continued down his purplish-brown cheek in deep, angry, puckered crevices until it reached his lips. It curled his upper left lip up into a constant snarl, and proceeded down around his tusks to his lower lip and chin.

“How did you come by all these?” you asked in a whisper as you dabbed the blood from the puffy wound above his other eye. To illustrate your point, you trailed your fingertips down the ragged lines on his face.

His gaze went to the warg beside him. “She…”

You nearly dropped the sodden and now pink rag in shock. “The warg?”

He nodded. “She in cage. When we take warg… they… small…” he said, bringing his hands together.

“Puppies? You take a warg when they’re young?”

He nodded. “But I find her big… she…” he growled melodramatically to illustrate her anger, and you nodded, supplying a few words for him. “Yes, she ‘angry’. I want… free her… She… She fight.”

“I can’t believe it…” you breathed, fingertips still dancing along the massive scars. “You must have lost so much blood…”

“Dead,” he said, holding up his finger and thumb again to indicate that he was that close from death.

“You almost died,” you asked, and he twitched his head in affirmation. “You’re so brave,” you smiled. “And really kind of stupid too.”

He growled softly at that, and brought his hand up to encircle your wrist in his massive hand. It was rough and cool, but he was breathtakingly gentle with you this time. “Show me… speak…” he pointed at your chest with his free hand, “Words…”

“You want me to teach you Common?” you asked, and he nodded. “I thought you said you didn’t need to?”

He dropped his gaze and let go of your wrist.

The humility in his gesture made you relent immediately. “Alright,” you smiled. “But only if you take better care of yourself.”

He grinned lopsidedly at that. “How…?” he began, holding both his hands over his chest and looking utterly lost for words. Again. “You do this for me… How I…?”

“Thank you,” you said. “When someone does something nice for you, you say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you,” he said stiffly, and you smiled.

“You know?” you said, drawing back a moment and regarding him playfully, “Maybe you’re not so scary after all.”

His wonky smile broadened even further. “Good,” he said. “For you, only.”

You had to laugh. “Alright. But I’m curious. Tell me something?”

He cocked his head to one side.

Gods, he looked battered, with his eye all puffy and his face all bruised, but he was sweet nonetheless, underneath all his fierceness. You suspected that life had made him that way; forced him to wear that fragile outer layer of tough armour, and that underneath it, he didn’t want this life at all, that he was a gentle soul. That realisation suddenly hurt you deeply.

Swallowing thickly, you asked, “What’s your warg’s name?”

He glanced down at her and murmured, “Avhundas. I call her Avhundas.”

“What does it mean?” you asked as the warg’s ragged, ring-studded ear twitched at the sound of her name.

Mauhír growled thoughtfully. “When wet…” he said, pointing at the ceiling, “Boom!” and he mimed rain falling.

“Thunder? The loud crash you get in a storm?”

“Yes…” he said.

“Fitting,” you commented, casting the currently-quiescent warg a look. “If the sound of that growl is anything to go by.”

That night he lay down on his furs early, clearly still hurting, and you headed to your usual corner of the tent by the door. Okash came in much later, drunk, and staggered over to you. Their father had come in as well, a little while before, and he had woken Mauhír up. The two had had another blazing row in their harsh, Uruk dialect, but he had left his son alone since then. Okash, however, was just about to make a grab for you, when Avhundas let out a deep, slow, languid growl from the shadows beside you, and Okash thought better of it.

She looked up and saw Mauhír watching, and she had been on the verge of saying something when Mauhír spoke. He used the Common Speech, which surprised you, but you soon saw that it was as much for your benefit as hers as he said, “That human… is mine. You… not have, Okash.”

Okash threw back her head and laughed bitterly. Her blunt, filed-off tusk looked odd now, and she made what was presumably an obscenely crude, sexual gesture at her brother, turned on the spot, and lurched back out of the tent.

You were shaking, as much with relief as with fear, when Mauhír stood painfully and crossed the tent to you. “Alright?” he asked gruffly, and you smiled.

When he saw the expression on your face, he relaxed.

“Thank you,” you said, and he gave you one of his lopsided smiles. “Mauhír?” you said as he made to turn away.

“Yes?”

Tears sparkled in your eyes and you felt your lips tremble. He crouched down by your side immediately with a quiet grunt of stifled pain.

“What?” he pressed, cupping your cheek in his big hand. “Hurt?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight…”

He smiled and stood, holding out his hand. “Come,” he said, drawing you to your feet and leading you towards his pile of furs and blankets. Avhundas wagged her ragged tail as you passed, but offered no further judgement.

From the curtained-off section at the other end of the tent, his father was snoring soundly, and Mauhír laid you down gently on the soft furs before drawing a blanket over you. “I stay?” he asked gingerly, and you nodded.

“Please…”

He lay down beside you, the warmth of his body rolling off him in waves, and you snuggled up with your back pressed tightly against his side. Tentatively, hesitantly, almost nervously, he laid his heavy arm over your waist and drew you tightly against him. “Safe now,” he murmured, nuzzling against your neck. “Safe.”

“Thank you,” you said again, letting the exhaustion which had been building up in you all day wash over you and claim you.

You’d not slept that well since your last night in your own bed, before the raiding party had come and turned your world upside down. At least, for now, you were protected and sheltered.

Part Three (v light nsfw)

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