#orc fluff

Your mother nods as she knits a warm blouse for the upcoming winter "hopefully they won't be here for too long, " her voice screeches with pretentiousness "I heard they like to take their sweet time

Your father grumbles as he grabs his axe marches outside, probably to take his anger out by cutting wood

"Y/n dear? Open up the stand, before the last of our flowers wilt"

You nod and turn to grab the cart of your family's flowers, softened and dull but not yet dried out. “Mother, when will Christian arrive?” you ask, Christian, luckily someone wanted to marry you, it was hard for your family to try to find you a husband for you really have nothing to offer, no riches no estates or land in your name but luckily Christian didn’t care.

“The spring dear, once the weather is better he will visit and you will wed”

You couldn’t wait, you were bored of this town, and once you’re wed you will finally leave this place with him, who knows what you’ll get to see.

You pack the rest of the flowers into carts as you daydream what he will look like, Christian always sounded like a light blonde name, mother said he was 24 so maybe he’ll have stubble, thick eyebrows, a soft gentle face…

"and y/n?"

You perk up from your thoughts and turn to her, "Yes mother?"

She doesn’t look up from her knitting "Refuse service to any orcs you see".

You falter, you haven’t had a good meal in two weeks, your mother was trying to elongate a stew for days but by now it's basically just flavored water. "Money is money, mother " you try to say gently

"You know how your father is, he won't let us touch coins that have felt those green fingers " she shivers in disgust, “i suppose it wont matter anyway, what orc would have a need for something as gentle as flowers?” she scoffs and laughs hearty

"I..." you want to say something, how much flowers you weren't able to sell this season because people have been saving their money for food, no one had money for flowers, but you bit back your tongue and nod "y-yes mother "

In the central of your small town was the market place, stands set up through the edges of the entrance to the town, frantic and desperate to sell, you go up to your families old market stands, wooden supports that hold up a tarp on the ceiling and act as a back wall while the front was a table with crates of extra flowers that of course, would not be selling. You didn’t even try to sell the products to passerbys, you just felt too guilty asking people to spend their money on flowers instead of food. So you slide the chair to you, sit down, fold your arms on the table to make a good enough pillow and go to sleep…

You perk up at the sound of many horse neighs, wiping the now dried drool on your cheeks, you look up and watch in awe as the huge muscular horses trot past, everyone around you seemingly pulling down the ceiling tarp to close their stands as they walk past. Meanwhile you were too busy being flabbergasted at the sheer mass the horses had to be in order to withstand the weight of their riders. Five orcs, all humongous with huge biceps, wide shoulders, skintones of variations of green. But their hair was surprisingly well kept, shiny and black, slicked back into long thick braids,no frizz for ages. Oh gosh a barbarian has better hair than I do-than I ever will!

They trot past you to the end of the road where the mayor's house was, jumping off their horses and giving their reins to the mayor's assistant presumably to bring to a farm, and enter the mayor’s home...and then you go to sleep. You lean forward while everyone opens their stands back up again.

"Excuse me" says a deep voice from above, god is that you? Is this heaven? Are you here to take me away-How come it smells like spruce…

I flutter your eyes open, the first thing you see are outrageously big shoes-omg, THE OUTRAGEOUSLY BIG SHOES OF A CUSTOMER, YOUR FIRST ONE IN WEEKS

"Are you open?" You jolt up straight and wipe the still wet drool off your cheeks, your eyes still adjusting, "of course sir-" your eyes widen wide once the blob of green focus’s, it was one of the orcs,

He was taller than the stand but bent over to a foot above your height, he had long thick framing pieces of hair that hit at his chest. His face is sharp with wide jaw muscles, and he had dark and nicely saturated green skintone, almost healthy...in fact, handsome. His has thick brown leather tunic pieces squeal and clank with metal chest plate embedded into the leather as he leans down to your height. Out of all the unearthly features, you couldn't stop staring at his tusks.

Your expression must have been more shocking than normal, because his brow raises "something wrong?" He has an accent, deep with firm jaw movement his tongue gliding with sharp rs and k's that almost roll, grumbly g's that seem to also end with r's and you perk up with the missing ‘the’

"N-nothing" you think past to what your mother told you, but how would father know whose money was who's? You couldn't last another bowl of thin broth for dinner. "How...how can I help you"

He gestures with a calloused hand to the roses "people buy these?" He asks gruff with such aggressive curiosity you can't help but giggle

"Yes"

He scoffs "why not sell weeds? why would anyone buy one"

"Well...they're pretty, men get them to give to their wives. Also because they are pretty, people enjoy looking at them."

He tilts his head in understanding at the roses "they are rather lovely"

You sigh in relief "they are" you lied, looking at the sad excuses of roses you had

"You do seem to have an abundance of them" you say suspicious

"No one has money for anything except food and water."

He huffs and straightens up to dig into his front pouch "is…this your only source of income?"

you're taken aback by that, "i um, well my father does cut wood,"

he scoffs "everyone can cut wood, all ya need is an axe"

i sigh exacerbated "okay yeah we're also not doing much better than everyone else"

you finally glance puzzled at the sudden quietness. Everyone was too busy staring daggers into you and this orcs back. A butcher slowly cutting through his meat menacingly, a mother hiding her child behind her skirt as if the sight of the orc wasn’t appropriate for children.

Meanwhile he digs into his pocket and drops a bag so heavy that it dents the your front table. One thick gold coin fully rolling out "tha' enough for all of them?"

you gawk at the gold a minute too long "o-oh! m-more than enough!" enough for three days of meals, and by then the mayor would've distributed the produce he got from the sale.

even though you're not looking up at him, you can hear a smirk in his voice "good"

you look up at him with an amazed smile "wow, you orcs must be well off"

he kind of shrugs "orcs just eat meat and grain, we have no use for other fruits or vegetables, but our grove is bountiful of them"

"huh" you hum, realizing that a lot of information you know of orcs must be wrong, what else is wrong about them you wonder.

"so, you got a wife?" you ask as you carefully wrap the huge bouquet of all your flowers

he turns his head sharply to you, eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks turning brown, wait is that blush "hahh?

“You know, someone to give these flowers too? ”

“Oh! er um no" he clears his throat and turns his head away to compose himself

"oh, well do you enjoy the look of the roses?"

"no..." he says but then quickly adds on "no…rmally! Normally! but today feels different"

"oh...how long are you in town for?"

"normally we would be done by now, orcs like to do business quick but mayor wants to negotiate more in morning" he scoffs and rolls his eyes "if I were tribe leader I would negotiate through night"

"heh, yeah im sorry about that, our local inn's beds would probably snap immediately at your weight"

he chuckles at that, "yeah, that is why we will be sleeping outside"

"oh! That's good, I hope you sleep well!"

he chuckles "thank you...you have been kind,my name is Grom" he adds as you put the final touches on the huge bouquet of flowers, wrapping a red ribbon around the stems.

"im...im y/n" you say, the adrenaline of rebellion flowing through your veins, you could already feel your parents disappointed. It makes you shiver and quickly hand him the bundle "here's your bouquet, Grom,"

As he leans forward to take it, you get another whiff of spruce. It's from him. You realize "thank you, you will be here tomorrow?"

"well...i did sell all my flowers"

His face falls a bit in disappointment before he turns to his bouquet and picks one flower out to gently place on the front "not that one" he says in a smug tone, the edges of his straight lips twitching to a smile.

you stare at it, and you have to admit it, this was your first time seeing a magical creature and well...it was so interesting, the culture shock, how different he lived and well...it was your first rush of rebellion. You wanted to know more about his species.

"You're right. One more left, I'll be here tomorrow until I sell it"

he huffs, "good" and turns to leave.

You smile proudly at the last rose as you pack up shop for the day, but as you are reorganizing your carts you hear steps behind you and turn. “Mrs Mallard!” you say excited at the arrival at your stall neighbor who sold dyes for wool. Oh no, did she want my last rose? What am I gonna tell Grom when comes and sees I don’t have it left, I can't refuse her!

“I saw you talking to that Orc!” she screeches in a tone of disgust, let untense her shoulders and silently sigh in relief, “yes he just bought almost all of my stock! Im so happy, now my mother can make a good meal for our family, im sure Mr Graves has some potatoes-”

“They are vile creatures!” she cuts you off “why would even risk talking to them? One wrong word and you could set them off, they have a horrible temper you know”

“Really?” you falter, it didn't seem like it, “i’m sorry Mrs Mallard I was just desperate for money, i’ve been so hungry"

Her expression softens, she sighs and reaches over to pat my hand “the lord made man in his image, not those green creatures, therefore they are not to be trusted, dear” your chest hurts at her words

“Yes Mrs Millard, i’ll refuse him when he comes back”

“Good” she states and her eyes dart with burning jealousy at your large pouch before she marches away.

As you walk home you stop far enough away from your house and gently reach into the pouch Grom gave you reached in to feel it, the coins had the normal engravings that were standardized around the whole kingdom, nothing felt off, around it, and yes you felt weird checking it but nothing even smelt bad about it…

"hello mother" you said walking inside "i sold all the flowers today" you say casually making your mother drop her knitting needles

"ALL OF THEM?"

you turn to her to drop the coins on the table gently, a smile on your face at the thought of what Grom said "well technically all except one"

"How?!"

"some husband that forgot his wife's anniversary." you lie, your back was turned to her so you could hide your of pain at your chest your lie causes you

"oh thank heavens he did so."

"Yeah, shall I go out to buy dinner?" you ask maybe a bit too eagerly that your father would catch your lies

"yes! perfect idea dear! By the time you come back and i finish cooking yout father should be back! Hes running a bit late" late? He's never late. Whatever I need to get this money spent

you smile in relief, eagerly grabbing the pouch to head outside to grab ingredients for dinner, thereby ridding the evidence of your encounter with Grom, oh how you couldn't stop thinking about him. Though you hated lying, you could not wait to see him tomorrow, that would be the last time you would ever see him anyway so it's not like it matters that you lied, right?

˚₊ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚✧ ˚₊ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

The next day, early in fact you set up your stall, already thinking of excuses to tell your neighbors once he came, it was a good thing today was wednesday, Mrs Mallards restock day.

you smile at the smell of spruce and look up to see Grom "good morning Grom, how was your sleep?" you ask taking your time wrapping up the one flower,

"stiff" he says rubbing his shoulder right shoulder

"yeah the ground must not be that nice to sleep on...what do you guys usually sleep on?"

"we have beds made of stone"

"Really? how is that much better!?"

he chuckles "they are layered with hay straw...may I ask you question since you did?"

"Of course!

"why...why do all your women wear these..." his eyes gesture at your skirt, his tone filled with disgust but genuine curiosity

"a dress, and well it’s just what we wear"

"well your men wear pants, like us"

"its whats modest"

"pants cover same amount as your dress does" his r’s roll sharper than normal when he says the word. Like it was the first time it entered his mouth.

"Well..." he stares hard and you finally find an answer "tradition!"

He scoffs annoyed “if we always followed tradition we would always stay where we are, is enough for single flower?" he slide another gold coin across the table

"yes but, I really cant accept this though its too much, especially after yesterday"

he raises a brow, a challenging smile grows on his lips "I make too much, besides, you are quite literally only one I can buy from"

he gestures around and wow, everyone has their stands front covered by tarps, therefore not letting even anyone buy from them.

"ill accept a copper piece"

he scoffs playfully "did not bring any"

"Liar"

"well you have no proof"

"i can see it in your smile" the edges of it twitch

"what smile?" he jokingly says

You roll your eyes "lets meet in the middle, silver piece"

"deal" he says with a fond smile and slides a silver piece to you, you look down sadly at it "so you're leaving today?"

he pauses "no need to stay in town that hates me"

"I don't hate you Grom" you say too gooey but it comes out before you can stop it.

but he smiles, looking touched "i do not hate you too y/n...maybe we can do business with your trib-villiage again, and you can tell me again about all weird human things you guys can do, and in return ill tell you mine"

"id love that"

The tallest of the orcs comes out of the mayor's room and yells a command to Grom in a language you assume is orcish, he responds back and as he does his tribe leader's eyes dart to you, cold and assessing. He had tusks with engravings that reached his cheekbones. His eyes are piercing and yellow like a predator, his face sharp like rock with scars and old scratches will all of his hair slicked back into three long braids. He hops on his horse, flicks the reins and trails out of the village with the rest of the orcs, leaving just pile of dust

As you bustled around in the cozy kitchen of your shared home, the crisp autumn air carried the scent of leaves and woodsmoke. Sunlight shined through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the table of the Harvest Feast preparations. The cottage at the edge of the village was a fixer upper when you and your orc husband first moved in a few months ago, but you now saw it as a warm safe haven.

The Harvest Feast was a cherished holiday for humans. It was a time to celebrate the bounty of the Earth, give thanks for the harvest that would sustain life through the winter. You wanted the first feast as newlyweds to be perfect. So you made a few roasted meats, tasty vegetables dishes, and sweet desserts around the hearth. You put a freshly baked pie on the windowsill to cool. You wiped your hands on the apron when you noticed your husband in the fields. 

He was finishing the last of the harvest. You watched him through the window. His massive green frame bent over the root vegetables he’d tended to all season. You admired the tall, broad shouldered man with tusks slightly curving from his lower jaw. His dark hair was tied back in a braid, and he wore a simple tunic that strained against his muscles. Orcs were known for their strength, but your husband was so much more than that. There was a kindness deep down that only you got to see. You smiled at the thought remembering how you two met. 

As you stirred the pot of spiced cider on the stove, you thought about when you were the village healer and a lone grumpy handsome looking orc came to your tent. He had injured his arm while chopping wood. A polite conversation turned into lingering visits. He told you about his clan disbanding over stupid feuds. He once grumbled something about ‘soft human ways’, yet he found himself not able to stay away. There was a quiet protectiveness in his eyes that drew you in.

The attraction was immediate, but bewildering. It still wasn’t super common for humans and orcs to marry. The cultural difference ran deep. Orcs valued raw strength while humans enjoyed heartfelt gestures.

Your first date had been awkward. He brought a massive boar haunch as a gift, expecting you to be thrilled, but then you nervously laughed and suggested a picnic with fluffy sandwiches. Marriage had amplified those quirks while you both learned about each other’s cultures. You learned to prepare protein rich meals for him while he learned of your preference for quiet evenings. Through all of your differences, your patience had eased his rough edges while his steady presence made you feel safe. 

 The door creaked open, pulling you from your thoughts. Your orc husband stepped inside. His shoulders hunched from the chill, carrying a burlap sack of gourds and some root vegetables. He made sure to take off his boots by the door.

“Fields are clear”, he grunted, setting the sack down with a thud, “Frost will come soon, but we got enough”.

“You’re back just in time, I’m almost finished”, you said while offering a warm smile as you wiped your hands on your apron. 

His golden eyes took in the kitchen and dining area. There was a golden crusted turkey, mashed roots from the fields, loaves of bread baked with nuts you foraged, pies filled with berries you gathered, an array of meat platters of various other animals. You had worked tirelessly all day, kneading dough and chopping vegetables. You were determined to have a wonderful holiday with your husband that felt right to both of you. 

He noticed the flour on your apron and the subtle way you shifted your weight. Your back must have been hurting. Without a word, he shrugged off his cloak then washed his hands. 

“Sit”, he rumbled, nodding at the chair, “I’ll finish the cider, you rest”. 

His practical gesture warmed your heart. He wasn’t one for showy words, but his actions spoke of a quiet understanding. 

“Thank you dear, but I’m ok, it’s almost ready anyway”.

He ignored you and took the ladle anyway with a firm but careful grip. As he stirred, you watched him. You took a moment to appreciate how your life had turned out. How lucky you were to have met this orc. He surprised you on your wedding day with an arch of your favorite flowers. He repaired the small cottage and together you both were turning it into a home. He nodded, his expression relaxing. 

“Harvest Feast…big for humans. For orcs, it’s the Great Gathering…feasting after the hunt. But this day is ours now”.

“Ours”, you repeated as you reached for his hand, your smaller fingers brushing his callused ones.

Candles flickered a steady flame as you set the table together. It was covered with a quilted cloth you embroidered, symbols of both human and orc life. Once at the table, you bowed your heads for the traditional human blessing. He listened quietly then added his own orcish invocation. He waited for you to start eating first before he did. 

“Mmm…good”, he said after taking a few bites of everything. 

“It’s because of all your hard work in the fields”, you said in between bites.

“Aye, used that compost you made…really put in the work on the soil”, he replied with a satisfied smile.

You both shifted into a pleasant conversation about childhood stories of past harvest gatherings. You told him about learning to cook certain foods, and you listened as he spoke of communal hunts and loud drums. After some time, you stood and brought the apple pie from the window sill to the table. Steam was still rising from the flaky crust. Your orc husband had never had it before. You handed him the first slice and it he chewed thoughtfully.

“It’s good…but could use something more…roots, meat maybe?”

“Like a venison bake?”, you replied not offended at all, “What were your clan’s pies like?”

He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Mother’s had boar and taro roots, baked in clay over a big flame…hearty filling…”

“Hearty has its place, just like light and fluffy does”, you said lightly. 

He realized he probably said something he shouldn’t have. 

“You handle my bluntness so well, I’m grateful. I will do better with my words…I promise you”.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way”, you giggled while taking another big bite of pie.  

He relaxed, feeling the spirit and happiness of the holiday. 

After dinner, you both cleared the table together. When finished, he took your hand and led you outside on the cottage steps. He held you close as you both sat there and stargazed in comfortable silence. He softly kissed your forehead.

“Happy Harvest Feast my love”.

The collar was snug. Not too tight, but enough you wouldn't forget you were wearing it. A two-inch wide band of tan leather that wrapped around your neck. Every morning, you picked it up off your bedside table, tightening it just enough, and there it would stay. Fastened tight to you until bedtime, maybe longer if you were missing him.

It was a year since he first gave it to you. Thick, strong fingers pulling the strap tight, the quiet metal clinking of the buckle and the slight release as the tension released. From that moment on, there hadn't been a day you weren't wearing it. That, he has never said but you had inferred, was very much the idea.

Another year behind you, the autumnal chill starting to set in a little later every time nowadays. You'd been out with some friends while he was at work, spending time for the sake of spending it, responding to the steady flow of happy birthday messages coming through your phone as friends from various corners of the internet woke up. You felt a little guilty, he didn't manage to get time off work and here you were enjoying yourself, despite him telling you to just kick back and have a good time. You always were sensitive. He was the only man you'd really been with for any length of time. Maybe that means you were a little naive at times, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.

He was waiting for you as you walked through the door of your flat. Stood in the hallway dressed in those grey sweatpants you like and a white vest. The bulge in his pants told you that's about everything he had on. The thin cotton vest barely contained his barrel chest and round belly, the rich olive green of his skin showing through the slightly translucent fabric. His smile was warm, welcoming, maybe a little mischievous. The nibs of his tusks poking out ever so slightly from his lower lip. A heavy brow hung like a crag over his face, square jaw matching the brawny, powerfully-built body underneath. The best didn't hide his shoulders at all, coarse hair covering his upper back and arms. You knew that hair carried on down his front and just didn't quit until it reached his ankles.

You draped yourself over him, arms linked behind his head, resting yourself on his chest. He smelled as he always did, fresh cotton, sandalwood, just the hint of sweat. Lost in his arms, you could tell he was holding something. A pair of somethings, in fact. Presumably this was your gift. For now though, you’re enjoying this, listening to the slow drumming of his heart.

A thumb looped through the back of your collar pulled you away. You didn’t resist, biting your lip as you let yourself be controlled. He put something to your lips. You sucked on the hard plastic tip pressed between your lips. The sweet vapour went straight to your head. It wasn’t a very high concentration, but you didn’t have an awfully high tolerance to THC.

A sharp snapping sound behind your head brought you back to reality. You pulled a little further away. One hand held the THC pen he’d just given you a hit of, the other had a bright yellow piece of plastic.

“Is that a-”

“Yes” he cut you off. He was using his deep voice. The one reserved for when things were going to get interesting “And you know what it’s for”

You nodded. He held out the pen again, clicking with his other hand as your lungs filled. “Good” A hand through your hair. “Now once more for me?”

Again you took a hit off the pen. You were starting to feel it now, just a little. A fuzzy feeling around the edges of your senses. Everything was still normal, just a little sideways-on from usual.

“Now it’s gonna get a little more… Complex. You understand? Nod if you understand”

You nodded. Puff. Click

“Good. spin around for me”

You turned, slowly, feeling his eyes on you. A nod. Another hit. Another click.

“Good puppy. Follow me”

He led you into the sitting room, taking a seat on the armchair. You went for the sofa without thinking. A short cough, and you caught yourself. Short, stumbling steps took you to his chair, standing in front of him as he leaned back. He was taller than you, much taller. Sat down like this, he could almost look you in the eyes without looking up at all. He was sizing you up, eyes darting this way and that, scanning your face, looking at how your arms hung from you. He knows you, your limits. How you look when he gets near them. Satisfied, he smiles at you.

“You’re wearing shoes. Take them off.”

You looked down, seeing the thick-soled winter boots. You’d forgotten all about them. You knelt, tugging on the laces and pulling them off, putting the shoes to one side before standing back up

Another click. Your eyes darted to his other hand, holding the pen. It didn’t come. Instead he just smiled “Good pup”

That same hazy feeling came over you. You smiled, feeling yourself sway a little.

“Now… Your top”

You pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to one side, exposing your round belly and the bra holding your ample breasts, tousling your short hair. Again you looked at the pen, a swell of gratitude rising as he held it towards you. Another click as you drew the vapour into your lungs, more prising words to fill your ears. You opened your eyes, you’d bent forwards at the waist, leaning over him to get to the pen.

He was smirking, eyes on your tits. “Bra next. Go on, puppy”

The drugs were working. Clumsy fingers reached behind you. Fumbling with the three hooks keeping your bra in place. It took a couple of tries before you managed it, feeling the support give way before you slid your arms free. The discarded garment took its place on the pile as he clicked again and you stood there, tits freed, looking at him, awaiting his next command.

“Good pet. Next the skirt.”

Again, you slipped off the garment without thinking. Kicking it over to the corner of the room, you stripped your panties, pre-empting his next command.

Another click “Aww, such a good pet, aren't you? So eager to strip. Now, get on your knees for me”

Your knees gave way. Again, another click. Face to face with his crotch, head swimming with repeated low doses of that pen. You could feel yourself getting wet for it. The dumb smile growing on your face told him everything he needed to know.

You reached for his waistband. Click.

He lifted his hips, letting you pull the fabric from under him. Click.

You aren’t even thinking about the pen any more. Every click makes your smile broaden. You feel yourself sinking deeper every time. No thoughts. Just that click, click, click.

Face buried in his crotch, you breathe in his sweat. The musk makes your head spin faster. He tastes as good as he smells, rapidly hardening as your tongue caresses him from base to tip. Every time your tongue passes over the head of his cock, another click rewards you. His taste fills you, the heat rising in you until he finally gets up.

Strong arms pull you up onto the chair, opening your legs for him to take his place between them. Your slick is dripping from you, you feel it running in slow rivulets over your skin as he lines himself up. He puts the pen in your mouth. You suck another hit from it. The click rewards you.

He slips in. You’re so wet he doesn’t even have to force it. Your stoned body needs him so much, to feel him stretching you out. He doesn’t disappoint.

Thrust after thrust. Your head spins faster and faster. Butterflies swarm within you. You’re whining for him, begging him not to stop. He’s all you can focus on, the feeling of him ploughing you. Every stroke hitting your cervix, coaxing out whimpers. Your hands grasp at him, clutching his vest, almost tearing the thin fabric.

He holds your mouth closed around the pen as you climax. More and more of the drugged vapour fills you. Your head spins faster. Your body feels limp, floating on air. The sounds you’re making are distant, somehow. Blissed out, bathing in the endorphins of your release and the drugs permeating your awareness.

He holds you close as he finishes in you. You can feel him filling you, warm cum flowing into your body.

Gradually, you come back down. Little by little, until the sky-high becomes a low buzz. He stays with you, holding you close.

“You did great, sweetheart. Just perfect”

You shut the wooden luggage case and slide it off the bed, rushing off quickly to the front room where you see him, he immediately stands up with a smile to you. Blue eyed and tan, his blonde hair a yellowy blond rather than a white blonde you imagined, athletic like normal but nowhere near as athletic as Grom. What are you doing, stop thinking about him. 

Your mother tugs your father out while you both sit down and shake each others hands, a pot of hot tea and four cups already neatly arranged, you pour yourself a cup of tea as you speak 

“So, tell me about your village?" you ask

“Bigger than yours” he explains, “lush and greener, with far more houses, we’re not surrounded by forests and are much closer to the mainland, you’ll have a great view of the castle. Its a wonderful place to raise children"

You smile, big, that means a lot to explore, surely I won't be bored

“Um my tea is empty”

You sit up to notice that its teacup was empty “so it is” you sit back to sip your own tea

“Um…pour me some more?” 

“Oh!” you say in realization, dropping your own and quickly pouring him tea, he sips his tea and sighs obnoxiously loudly “ah this is the life, im so excited to be married, knowing all the housework will be complete, and food always be made, to finally have some kids…we’ll start tonight”

You perk up in realization. Right, you'd have to do a lot more work than normal, including cleaning of the whole house, cleaning of clothes cooking…and he’s wanting to try for kids now so its only a matter of time before you’re pregnant

Though this was all normal, you still felt…distasted at him. He was the typical man for you, but you find yourself not as excited as before.

To make things worse, right outside you had the most perfect view of the orcs packing up their 

things into a newly refurbished wagon they bought that morning, one of the orcs underneath to fix more structures to support their weight.

You jerk your head back to him but he already noticed what you’re staring at “disgusting 

creatures” he doesn’t mutter it, he says it loud and proud for your parents to hear from the other room, “never want our family to be close to any of their kind anyways, Elizabeth!” he leans back as he calls for your mother, a sight and tone that reminded you too much of your father “whats all this waiting for? Let's go down to the church now!”

Your mother interrupts your conversation with a chirp “ oh! I just want to send y/n with a few pieces of my prized china. Christian, could you please help me reach?

A smile quickly goes onto Christians face as he happily walks to the kitchen, your father comes in to sit in his spot and relax while sipping tea casually with you, you try to tell yourself this is what will make my life best, my parents know what's best for me, they know I will be happiest like this, why doesn't it feel like it now?

“Father?” you ask “In the end…what do you want for me”

“For you to live out a successful life of course”

“And what's your idea of living a successful life?”

He slurps his tea quietly “Well of course being wed, a good wife, and producing a lot of children”

You take a sigh, “I…father, I have been waiting since I was a teenager to leave this town and find my own place in this world, but now I'm starting to think I will never have time to even explore, or even be my own person.”

 Laughs “of course not, that's what the men do, you’re to stay and be supportive of everything, and don;t worry, you'll be grateful for this when you’re older”

You start to think about Agral, how she was told the same thing that she could never leave because she wasn’t strong enough, but proved them wrong, there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to do what a man could do. Same as her. But there's a little voice in your head that tells you you’re wrong.

You’re not an orc, you’re not strong

Yes but Agral was told she was weak when she wasn’t, I have been told that I cant make myself a good life without a human man, neither things we were told were routed in factual claims

You’re not brave like her

I've risked beatings on multiple occasions just to learn more, I think that compares to hunting out a dangerous creature to get food

What about your children? They'll be abominations to the world

You’re stifled by that argument and can’t respond back to yourself, but then you think about what Grom said when you saw that homosexual couple “it is never wrong to love” 

I don’t want to live in a world where it is wrong for me or my children to love someone just because they're different. I'd rather them be “abominations” than have to be with someone who is “correct”. I don’t want this cycle to continue with my bloodline.

You wait for the little voice to come back but it doesn’t. But still something prevents you from standing up, you glance outside one more time, Grom and the others now smash out their stone beds since they couldn’t carry them home, their bags already in the back of the wagon. Your heart races worrying you’ll miss your chance but also pick wrong. Pick quickly or else they'll leave and you’ll never see him again, time is ticking.

One last question: You shut your eyes and think, “what do I want” and the first thing you see is Grom.

You sigh in relief, you know what your decision is, you open your eyes to see your father staring at you hard, his expression unreadable, while your mother was now at the table, smiling obviously while wrapping up her china plates and bowls to set into the luggage

“Th-thank you mother” you quickly take the case and close it, sliding it off the table to hold both cases in your hands “I'll go put the luggage in the carriage ” you lie, speaking quickly from the nerves wanting to quickly leave, you stand up walking to the door. You jolt feeling his hand on your wrist, him pulling you back.

 “i know what you’re thinking”

You stiffen “i-i’m not thinking of anything, father”

“You’re going to see that orc before you leave aren’t you? I know what you’ve been doing, you were late last night and don’t think I haven’t heard your giggles”

You're tugged back and you panic as you try to fling yourself out of his arms with all your strength. You heard a horse neigh from outside and you panic at the thought they're already mounting them, you use your luggage’s weight to twirl back and knock him somewhere on the body, he groans loud in pain and you hear your mother cries, your father lets go long enough for you to messily rush to the door to open, seeing a glimpse of Grom still carefully leading the lambs their place on the back of the wagon, you're not too late.

“Grom! OW!-” you cry in pain as a hand comes to grip at the base of your hair and pull you back, your head leans back and your eyes shut in pain, reaching to grip the hands

“You’re not leaving for a fucking orc y/n! I should’ve never let them come into our town, I should’ve never let you stay.”

“Grom!” you cry one more time desperately, as loud as your vocal cords will allow, your whole body tenses at the sound of many heavy footsteps “you get your hands off her!” Grom, your heart misses a beat at the sound of his roar he heard you.

Your fathers hand releases your hair and you drop to the ground boneless, putting your head between your thighs and hands clutching your head in pain, the throbbing seemingly increasing in intensity.

“Hey what seems to be going on!” this voice was now Rags, but your focus was placed on the large hands that were sliding down the sides of your head to cup your cheeks and gently tilt your face up, at first you can’t see from the pain, your sight just shows a blob of green blurry from the tears, but judging on how gently they are you smile at the familiar feel, “Grom?” 

“Are you hurt?” his voice turns from gentle to a growl of anger “he pulled hair strands out” 

You blink rapidly to try to get the tears away “i-ill be fine” his fingers gently massage your scalp as you sob in relief “I’m sorry, I've changed my mind! When you told me about the beautiful place you lived in I thought “wow I want to experience that” and I didn’t think more about it because I thought I just wanted to be there in the grove but I actually just wanted to be with you.

Slowly your vision clears to see his handsome face turn from a mix of concern and anger to joy and tearful relief “r-really? You want to come with me?”

You sob happily “yes!”

“NO!” your father roars as his marches towards you, Grom's face jerks up, before he quickly scoops you up in your arms and skillfully moves out of your house. 

Your father pushes past Rag, somehow, and wobbles over towards you both, but Grom was already in the middle of the town while your father couldn’t take a step without gripping the door, “You give my daughter back right now!”

“Why should I?” he demands loudly, his accent getting thicker as he shifts your weight to one of his arms while the other reaches for his back to sharply whip out a sharp axe, the sound of the blade causing a shiver down your spine, you could practically feel the sharpness on it.

There's a slip on your fathers face in hesitation, or is that perhaps fear? He goes away quickly to be replaced with anger. “You drop my daughter right now!” you instinctively grip onto Grom’s shoulder tighter, you could see your mothers face of sadness and fear from behind Rag, it breaks your heart. However Christians flabbergasted look sets you off, as if he couldn’t understand how something green could be better than him.

”if you touch her again I will cut you ear to ear” you could feel the tension of his jaw in his tone, 

You turn your head to your father, by now a mob has formed of your neighbors, some look in disappointment, some in disgust as they form around your house. But you could also hear the unshielding metal behind you, you turn to see one by one each orc pull out their own weapons.

Your father wobbles as he stands up, but just as he takes a step forward Groms grunts loud as his arm whips forward to throw the axe, the top of the door frame just barely missing your father, Groms breath is loud in the aftermath. Your father jumps startled and cowardly and backs up until his back hits Rag and he turns sharply around to him.

“You won't hurt me, you can’t! The mayor-”

Rag cuts him off with a cold slow tone “Seems to be busy with the extra silver we gave him” 

“A-A war would be started!” 

“You are right…” Rag admits calmly, and at first you tense thinking he was going to tell Grom to let you come back, but then he reaches behind him to unshield his sword “but we are very able to Mr y/L/N (your last name), ” he wordlessly picks up your luggage from the ground, you noticed one of them cracked, and walks backwards towards you still facing your father, “besides, orcs live for war”

Your father stifles a grunt. His gaze shifts to you, hand still clutching a large amount of your hair in his right hand. As he points to you with his left. “you will be condemned forever y/n! No amount of purgatory will fix this! God will not take you back! You hear me!?”

You clench your jaw, head still buzzing from earlier as something inside you snaps “I rebuke your god!” you yell. 

The whole world seems to still, everyone in silence for what you have said and for a second you couldn’t even believe that was your own voice

Then the town seems to come alive again. some yell obscenities and slurs to you, some whisper to others pitifully, others spit at the ground in disrespect, one of which is your father. “take her then! Her soul is already corrupted, god does not want her anymore and neither do I! I have no daughter anymore” 

The crowd roars with anger towards you all, Grom and the orcs make no hesitation for the carriage, quickly hopping in as the crowd start to throw produce at you. A tomato almost hitting you if it weren’t for Grom's skilful catch, you recognize the plump vibrant tomato, they were throwing the same produce that the orcs gave them. Rag hops into the front of the carriage, gently setting your luggage cases besides you and Grom with one hand and reaches for the reins with the other to sharply flick them, setting the horses on a fast sprint, but not before a few other fruits and vegetables land perfectly in the orcs hands.

There's a long bit of awkward silence as you look down at your lap, panting in disbelief of what you said, I rebuke your god you still can’t believe you said it, you tear up “god what have I done, god will never forgive me” you let out a sob into your hands “f-fathers right, god will condemn me, and i-i will never get to see my mother in heaven” your throat is on fire at each word

His hands are warm and inviting as they slide down your arms and wrap around you from behind, “it will be okay, y/n”

“I will go to hell…what god will accept me?”

“our gods will accept you” Grom says immediately, you perk up and turn to him tearfully, his expression breaking at the sight of your tears 

“He-they will?” you ask

He nods as his hands go to your cheeks to wipe away the tears “for life and in death” he murmurs “they will take your soul and give you everlasting happiness” 

You hiccup from the tears “you…even though im?...”

He shakes his head  “no doubt they wont” you stop crying long enough to clean up your face and let him pull your face to his chest

You don’t care if you’d never see your home, town or even father again, but you will miss your mother, though she usually followed your fathers orders to the letter so much that you never truly got to know her, she was never cruel. You hope that by having all her children moved out she would have more time to be herself. “How long is the ride”

“A few days”

“Okay…we should hurry” 

He nods and yells something to Rag in orcish and instantly feels the wagon go faster, and for the first time since you first met Grom, you were surrounded by things that were unfamiliar, and had no idea what your future looked like anymore. 

As you look forward onto the trail, you grip one hand onto the wagon and the other the Grom, a deep churn of unease burns in your stomach, why does it feel like this isn’t the last time you will see your family?

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