#the one about the lumberyard
Text
[orc] Zorag Iron - 3/3
orc!Zorag Iron x human!Reader - 3/3
Good to know: smut
Summary: Both you and Zorag want more.
A/N: The first journey in Ironridge reached its end. I hope you enjoyed it and you will stay to meet Zorag's brothers.
Almost a month goes by after your last encounter with Zorag in one of the storages. You barely meet, and when you do, both of you act like nothing happened. He is busy outside with the others while you do your job in the office. You take care of the orders and organize the deliveries. And try not to think about him too much for the sake of your sanity.
The sun is at the top of the sky. Bright and warm. The puddles left by the rain are nowhere anymore, and the lumberyard is busy and loud as usual. You can hear men shouting to each other through the vibration of the machines.
The metal building in the middle of the yard is uncomfortable now that there are no clouds to protect you from the heat. You have to pull on your clothes every now and again so the fabric doesn't stick to your skin. You are hot and sweaty, and Zorag's sight through the window doesn't help.
You try everything to keep your mind away from Zorag, but the task seems impossible. You can still feel his hold on your legs, his nails digging into your flesh. At night, you imagine his face between your thighs as you touch yourself. Even the thought of his tongue on your folds and his finger in your pussy is enough to make you soaked.
Zorag is outside. You can see him from your seat behind the desk. Your fingers linger above the keyboard as your attention turns from your laptop to the orc. His trousers hang low on his hips. The fabric stretches on his thick thighs as he moves. His upper body is bare. His t-shirt hangs from his back pocket. To your surprise, he is smooth and shaved. You always imagined him hairy. His green skin seems lighter under the bright sunlight, and he is flushed by the heat. His black dreadlocks are tied back with a worn band. The beads and rings glint in his hair. Your fingers curl into fists as you imagine them gripping his locks.
Fuck.
Zorag feels your eyes on him the whole day. It burns his skin and twists his stomach. He has to force himself not to look at you through the office's window. And his willpower fails him rather often. Every now and again, when he is sure you are busy with something else, he dares to steal a few glances. You sit at the desk, your eyes on the laptop in front of you. A few sweaty locks of your hair are sticking to the delicate curve of your neck. The light summer dress you wear highlights the valley of your breasts and the curve of your waist.
He saw you when you disappeared into the office early in the morning. The skirt swirled around your legs with each step you took. He couldn't help but imagine what you hid under the clothes.
He jerks off more times at the memory of your taste than he would dare to admit it.
A relieved sigh leaves Zorag's lips when he arrives home, but the ache in his chest doesn't lessen. It's Friday, and he has a whole weekend ahead of him without seeing you. Not long ago, he would have been happy about it, but now… Now he just wants to grab his keys and go to your house.
While he decides to go and take a shower, you let your annoyance take over you.
You are angry, impatient, and horny.
Not even half an hour later, your car is parked in front of his house, and you are at the door, knocking on the wooden surface.
You are not even sure what you want to do if he opens the door. You can't ask him to have sex with you, can you? Then what? Should you talk about what happened? Clean the air between you two?
After a few seconds, the door of his home opens, and you forget how to breathe. Shock shows on his face, but you are too busy staring at his bare chest. Your gaze travels down, following the muscles of his stomach, until you pause on the white towel around his hips. The fabric barely reaches the middle of his thighs. Water still shines on his green skin.
"Ruby?" Zorag asks. His surprise quickly changes to smugness when he sees your reaction. Your lips open, and your eyes darken with desire. He still remembers your expression when you came because of his tongue and finger. The thought makes his cock jerk under the towel. The thin fabric does nothing to hide his half-hard erection.
"What's wrong with you?" You snap at him, frowning.
He doesn't get angry at your words. "You are the one who came here."
"Yes," you agree. "Well…"
Raising one of his brows, he finds amusement in your frustration. No matter how much you try to avoid the obvious bulge under the white towel, your gaze falls on it every now and again.
"Did you come here for more?" He asks, leaning closer.
Even though the neighbors can see him, he is not in a hurry. He is enjoying every minute of your struggle.
"Of course not," you scoff. "I came here to clear the air between us. We can't work together like this."
Lies. Lies. Lies. Zorag wants to kiss them off your mouth so you can scream the truth only.
He hums, smirking. "Sure, Ruby. Come in, and we can talk about it."
It's the worst idea you ever heard.
"Okay."
The moment the door closes behind you, your back presses against the hard surface, and Zorag cages you in his embrace. His kiss is wild and out of control. His tusks dig into your lips, and his tongue invades your mouth. It's all need and demand. His lips are still open when he breaks the kiss and leans down to reach under your bottom. His hot breath fans over your neck, kissing down your collarbone and licking into your cleavage while hauling you up in his arms. Your legs curl around his waist immediately, and your fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulders.
"Where are you taking me?" You gasp out.
"Up to my room," he replies. His words are heavy with need. He moves like you weigh nothing. "I will fuck the bossiness out of you."
The promise makes your pussy ache for him. A low groan rumbles through your skin when you start to grind yourself against him.
"You love my bossiness," you tell him while he kisses up on the line of your neck.
"I love it better when you are too fucked out to say anything."
You land on his bed with a shriek. You are still in your clothes, and he is naked. The towel probably fell off somewhere on the stairs leading up to his bedroom.
"Take off your clothes," he orders you. "It's time for you to learn how to be obedient."
You scoff but do as he says. Kneeling in the middle of his bed, you grab the hem of your dress and pull it off of your body with one swift motion. You don't wear a bra, and when Zorag notices it, he groans at the sight. His hand is around his cock, already jerking off.
"Stand up on the bed and come here."
A part of you wants to argue with him, but in the end, you obey again. With the bed under you, the height difference is perfect for him to grab your waist with his free arm and pull you against himself until you are so close he can lick and suck your nipples. Your back arches at the feeling, pushing yourself into his greedy mouth more. Every swirl of his tongue goes straight between your legs. Your panties are ruined. You are sure of it.
"Zorag," you croak out his name. "Please…"
"What do you want?" He grunts. His tusk flicks over your nipple. Your breasts are soft and just enough for him to play with them to his heart's content.
"You," you tell him. "I want you."
Your words are breathy and impatient.
"Take off your panties and lay down on your back if you want me to fuck that pretty pussy. I'm sure it's already wet for my cock."
Zorag still barely believes his own eyes. You are lying on his bed, naked and ready. Your legs are wide apart, showing him your hot center. Your nipples are hard and wet peaks, and your folds glint with your juices. You are the prettiest sight he has ever seen.
His balls twitch with the need to cum, but a squeeze around the base of his shaft stops him at the last second.
"So pretty," he says, letting his eyes wander on your body. "You are so fucking pretty."
"Then come and fuck me," you suggest, lifting your hips to entice him. "I need you, Zorag! Please!"
Your plea hits something in him because of your absolute delight; he is above you before you know it. He keeps his weight off you with his strong arms but his warmth still cages you into something safe and comfortable. His hard cock grazes your lower stomach, almost reaching the slit of your pussy where you need him the most.
"I need to get you ready," he says, mostly to remind himself of the size difference between you two. You are still a human, while he is an orc everywhere.
Before he can lower himself, you grab his hair. "You don't have to."
Zorag frowns. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," you promise. "I- I'm ready. I was ready when I got here."
Your confession humiliates and excites you at the same time, and more heat creeps up on your cheeks when you see the recognition crossing Zorag's face.
"Did you touch yourself before you came here?" His voice is nothing but a low growl. "Answer me, Ruby."
"Yes."
"Did you think of me?" He asks. One of his hands slides down your body, reaching between your legs. His finger brushes over your clit, sending shivers all over your body. "Did you think of my mouth? My tongue on your sweet pussy? You taste so good, Ruby. I want to eat you every day from now on."
"Zorag!" You cry out his name when his finger pushes inside you.
"Did you imagine my cock in this pretty hole? Did you think about how well I could stretch you out?"
When you don't answer, he stops his finger from pushing into you deeper, and you sob out a croaked reply. "Yes, I thought of you. I thought of your mouth, your fingers, your cock. I only think about you."
"And did you come? Or did you come here because your pretty fingers weren't enough anymore?"
"I came here to fuck me," you tell him. Your hips move in sync with his thrusts. "I come here for your cock, Zorag."
"And you will get it," he promises, leaving the warmth of your wet channel to adjust his cock at your entrance. "I will fuck you, Ruby."
"Yes," you moan. "Do it! Please, Zorag, do it!"
You roll your hips to get him inside you faster. Your pussy stretches around the head of his cock. The orc pushes into you slowly and steadily. His heart beats in his throat at the feeling of your warm tightness around his shaft. Your walls already flutter and pulse to pull him deeper and deeper until he is inside you completely.
"Oh, god," you groan. "So full."
"That's right," he growls. "That's what you needed, Ruby. You don't have to use your fingers anymore. I'm here now."
When he is sure you are adjusted to his size, he starts to move in and out rapidly. He pounds your pussy while you can do nothing but moan and shake under his heavy body. Your wetness coats his cock, dripping down on his balls. His eyes roll back at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, demanding more, demanding everything he can give you.
"Where do you want me to cum?" Zorag grunts. "Where do you want my seed, Ruby?"
"Inside me," you cry. Tears roll down your cheeks at the pleasure that burns your veins and jerks your muscles. "I'm on the pill."
Hearing you reply, Zorag moves even faster. You didn't know it was possible. The bed thuds against the wall in the background, mixing with the wet sound between your legs.
You both reach your high at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, your nails dig into the hard muscles of his back, and he can't keep up any longer. He pushes himself inside you entirely and cums. His seed fills you up, dripping down where you meet while your cunt milks him for more.
"Wow," you pant after long minutes of silence when he drops on the bed beside you. You start to miss his warmth immediately.
"Yeah," he agrees. "Do you want to take a bath? I can make us something to eat in the meanwhile."
You are not sure why you are surprised. Zorag is not the type who sends his partners away after everything is done.
"That would be good," you reply. "Thank you."
"Good," he smirks, leaning closer to press a quick kiss on your lips. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
-
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#monster x human#orc x human#monster x reader#orc x reader#ironridge#monster smut#orc smut#orc romance#monster romance#orc boyfriend#monster boyfriend
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i see a prompt request 👀 what about “stop trying to help me it’s just hurting you” with feral reader… maybe joel is the one helping her with the adjustment to settlement life in wyoming? or they’re out on a run and she gets hurt? anything tbh you decide
Yesssss I am all for this one. I had some downtime and managed to write this so fast. So have some angst and maybe some lore and both of them fighting lol
Left Behind
Joel Miller x f!Reader/OFC
The Last of Us
2.5k Words (3rd POV)
(Lots of callbacks to Monsters but not necessary to read first. Feral Reader's name is used sparingly so yes, she's technically more an OFC as you get lore in this one)
Summary: Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.
“Joel, she’s trouble, man,” Tommy ran a hand through his hand exasperatedly, pacing the hard packed ground in front of both their homes, “I know shit was rough out there. Hell, the three of you were practically hissing at everyone when you came through that first time, but it’s been a couple months. She’s scaring half the town and you’re scaring the other half acting like her goddamn guard dog.”
The older Miller brother clenched his jaw, hands on his hips and trying not to show how much his split open knuckles smarted, “I wouldn’t have to if those assholes would stop treating her like a fucking pariah or giving her shit every time she tries to stand up for herself.”
“You have got to admit it’s not exactly like she’s giving them much reason not to act that way,” Tommy sighed and spread his hands pleadingly, “She threatened to stab Johnny at the lumberyard through his hand for looking at her weird, not to mention I’ve already had to take her off patrol duty with anyone but you after she beat Grant-”
“That boy learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself,” Joel cut him off.
Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, before glancing back at his house where his very pregnant wife currently was, “Brother, I can’t have her acting this way. I get it’s not perfect here, but we can’t have trouble like this. Maria…she’s already considering that if Red doesn't get her shit together she may not be welcome to stay.”
Silence fell between the two, boiling and tense. He didn’t have to even look up to know the look on his older brother’s face at his words, could feel it as if flames were on his skin. It was like lighting a match around gasoline, waiting for the whole thing to ignite. He knew that as much as his brother cared about the young girl in his charge, he also cared about the woman that came along with them. And when Joel Miller cared about something, he’d go through hell for them.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Joel bit out harshly, snarling. His irises had darkened to almost black, the hints of hazel swallowed almost entirely. His body was tight, a wire begging to snap.
But the younger of the two could only shake his head, feeling lost and unable to comprehend what to do. Torn between the home he had helped create and protect, his wife who had the weight of the community on her shoulders while preparing to give birth to his first kid, and his brother’s protectiveness over the rough woman currently inside the house. “Just get it sorted. Talk to her. My hands are tied, I can only do so much,” Tommy sighed, turning and heading back across the lot to his own home and life.
Joel didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were trained on the ground, blood roaring in his ears as he replayed the words over and over again. They were considering kicking Red out. He’d dragged her all over the country, to Wyoming then Colorado and Salt Lake and back to Jackson, forcing her to settle down only for her to get kicked out.
He knew she was having a hard time. She’d never stayed in a QZ, had stayed out in the world too long alone or with the wrong people and didn’t know how to deal with a community like this. Normal people who didn’t have to tear each other apart for scraps. While he and Ellie didn’t have the smoothest transition and were still rough around the edges, they’d managed while the woman had hit wall after wall.
She was defensive, quick to react and bare her teeth. It was fine out beyond the gates but inside Jackson where everyone was trying to find a new normal it had caused issues.
One of the steel workers was Grant’s brother and hadn’t taken kindly to her beating the shit out of him. He had refused to give her some parts they needed for the house and then called her a bitch when she’d slapped his payment down and went to snatch the items. But he hadn’t registered Joel around the corner listening and before they all knew it his fist was flying into the man’s face.
He’d have done more if Tommy hadn’t broken them up.
But his brother was right and she did have a reputation, had scared a lot more than half the town. He’d seen the way mothers had pulled their kids away or the looks some of the guardsmen gave her. Ellie had told off more than a few, shouting across the plaza when she’d catch it, defensive. He’d watched Red shrink in the settlement, only fully confident like she usually was outside of Jackson.
He’d figure it out. He had to.
With a deep sigh, he turned and went inside. Ellie had been sent to take care of the errands and get the groceries they both knew Red wouldn’t be able to get. The teenager was understanding and was doing the best she could to help, keeping any complaints to herself or to him when they were alone to not burden the woman. She was as protective of her as he was of both of them.
The house was quiet. It was all something he was still getting used to. Having a house again, a home where he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked or FEDRA raids, no more furniture salvaged from garbage dumps and pipes that rattled without a drop of hot water. Jackson made it easy to get comfortable, to feel like it was before the world was ravaged.
Easy for him at least.
He paused and waited a moment, hearing the almost imperceptible sound of breathing on his good side before he rounded the kitchen counter and looked down.
Red sat on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting back against the cabinet doors. Her face was blank but he’d learned to read the small hints of thoughts on her face. Lips pressed tight, eyes focusing on her nails even as he hovered. She’d heard. He knew she had.
“Should I start packing my bag now or wait for Maria to give me the word?” she chewed on her lip, feigning nonchalance.
“Neither. You ain’t going nowhere,” Joel bit out with a furrowed brow.
She laughed humorlessly, mouth turning into a grimace, “That’s not up to you, Tex.” Those eyes looked up finally, met his, and he could see the resignation there. This wasn’t something she was going to fight if they made her leave. She’d do it and he knew why, knew it was for them, but refused to accept it.
“Like hell it ain’t.”
“Stop,” abruptly getting to her feet, she hissed at him, “Just stop it. Stop trying to help me. It’s only hurting you and Ellie. You have actual family here, Joel. Flesh and blood family. You could murder someone and they’d still keep you here and Ellie as well, but I’m a liability. To you, to her, to all of them. I get it.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you get it, Red,” Joel was angry, getting into her face, “They’re not kicking you out. End of conversation.”
“Not end of fucking conversation,” she growled, “I’m not risking yours and Ellie’s only chance at a safe, stable life. If that means I go back out there then so be it.”
“God, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn sometimes,” he all but yelled through his teeth.
A laugh tore from her, sharp and loud, her brow raised, “Oh that’s hilarious coming from you.”
He wanted to beat his fist through the fucking wall, pick up a glass and shatter it if only to release some of the frustration dealing with her gave him. That damn martyrdom that he hadn’t ever been able to get rid of, scream out of her no matter how many times he told her to stop it. She was so willing to throw herself away for his or Ellie’s sake as if what happened to her didn’t matter and it drove him insane every single time.
“You better quit that shit,” Joel ground out between clenched teeth, “That stupid fucking selfless bullshit. For what? As punishment because you lost some people? That…fucking Harry you were with?”
He hadn’t ever brought up the name she had mentioned once because he knew what it was like for someone to bring up the past. She hadn’t offered much of her background and he never asked, but there had been small moments. That name had stuck in his brain though, like the little stars tattooed on her collarbone and the “love ya” on her skin in someone else’s handwriting.
The silence following his words were deafening, all emotion wiped off her face. It was as if someone had scrubbed away anything that made her a person, human, in seconds.
Then something darker took over and twisted and she smiled, a showing of teeth, and eyes so hollow they seemed like caverns, “Is that what you think? That I’m punishing myself over some boyfriend that died when the world fell apart as if most of the fucking population didn’t also die too? That I’m what? A sad little heartbroken girl pining over some lost love?” A laugh left her lips and it felt like poison, dripping venom.
He clenched his fist, anger burning hot, but he knew better than to say anything or approach her when she was like this. Dangerous. Sometimes she was so dangerous he wondered how he had ever thought it was safe to turn his back on her.
“That’s real sweet, Tex…I shot him, you know?” she laughed again, not a bit of humor on her face, “Not because he was infected. No. He wasn’t even bit, didn’t have a scratch on him. He was fully alive and healthy before I blew his face right off.”
She’d mentioned the man’s name long ago on the road when they’d gotten drunk out. It had slipped out of her covered in pain and regret, Harry and her younger sister, how she'd been barely starting her life when the apocalypse hit. A singer. Ellie had mentioned she had been trying to be a singer and he’d always pictured a bright eyed girl unprepared for what was to come. He had wondered if that death had been what had broken her, guttered her and tore out her soul to the point she lived on instinct only, how that girl had become the hissing creature before him.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Stepping closer to him, he resisted the urge to back away, to show that he was like the rest of them and scared of her too. She almost smiled wider and he knew she was expecting him to, a test almost, “You see we were on a run. Harry, me, and Annie. Spooked some runners so we booked it out of the building because back then I wasn’t much of a fighter, hadn’t learned yet. So I trusted him to keep us safe. Yet, lo and behold, when we get through the front door and I turn around, I see him.”
Her words were made of broken glass that cut her apart and made her mouth bleed, devastation and rage coating each one but he didn’t move or try to comfort her lest he got cut too, “Harry had shoved my sister behind so he could get through first then shut the door in her face. I watched them through the glass tear her apart, screaming my name, because I had trusted him to have her back. Instead he got her killed. So I killed him.”
There was no smile then.
He remembers how they met. Ellie had fallen behind while running from scavengers because he hadn’t put her in front of him. It had been Red who had saved her and like a missing puzzle piece, he could see the picture come together. Knowing her now and how it wasn’t normal for her to go out of her way to help strangers, but she’d helped them.
Because Annie had fallen behind once before and she couldn’t save her. Blamed herself for her death.
“It was my fault and I’ll be damned if I ruin both of your chances at staying here where you are safer. Not because of me,” the snarl had left her face, hackles dropping until just the woman was left. Exhausted and a little sad and lost. It’d broken her, he knew that. In the same way Sarah’s death had left him a shell. But he’d kept going for Tommy, Tess, and eventually Ellie.
She hadn’t had anyone until them and now she thought she was putting them at risk.
Joel frowned and stepped forward, their chests almost pressed together, before cupping her face between his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody still, but neither of them cared, had never cared about getting blood on the other, “I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but if you think after that I’d still let you go then you’re wrong. I learned my lesson last time we were in Jackson. We stick together. No one’s getting left behind.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, a broken sigh leaving her lips. Her hands came up and gripped his waist, fingers wrapping around his belt tightly like he was a lifeline. Resignation wrapped her entirely in its embrace and he knew the fight had gone out of her, “I…I don’t know how to be around these people. There’s too many of them and they all stare…I’m going to mess up.”
The admission brought a slight smile to his lips, a crack in the defense she had attempted to put between them and a sign that she was giving in, “Well I think as long as you don’t try to maul or kill anyone and maybe limit to punching one or two people a month, that’ll be good enough.”
She huffed exasperatedly, head falling forward and leaning against his chest. His thumb traced her cheek, the other combing through the tangled mess that was her hair. For all she used to gripe at Ellie for taking care of her own, she wasn’t much better. But the strands were still soft and he took advantage of it when he could, feeling her relax against him.
“I’ll talk to Tommy and Maria. You just give yourself time to adjust and try,” Joel murmured, “We’ll figure it out, but you’re not going anywhere.” She nodded against him and at last wrapped her arms fully around his body, sinking into him while he held her tightly back. They both stayed there for a while, arms tight, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
Joel would pull every string, get every ounce of leverage he could get to ensure she stayed. No one was going to take her away from them.
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x oc#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x feral reader#joel miller#tlou#the last of us#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfic#raicodoll writes#series: feral#feral reader#anon#asks#oc: Red#all the lore drop#I tried not to include her name but since it's connected to Monsters I figured it'd be fine#3rd pov is hard to keep faceless but its impossible for me to write in 2nd pov#Series: feral
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Could you do the follower bishops with someone who is wheelchair bound and loves to draw
Narinder
All he sees is a loyal follower who serves his vessel and praises his name, so he's indifferent to you being wheelchair-bound.
But out of curiosity, he examined how Lamb accommodated you through the Red Crown's eye.
They built ramps and wooden floorboards so grass/flowers didn't get stuck in your wheels, left an open space for you at the feasting table, and punish whoever discriminated against you or tried pushing your wheelchair without permission.
He's like "yes good,,,,inclusiveness will attract more to the cult >:3"
When Narinder himself winds up in the cult, he's moping around and avoiding everybody.
The other followers said you should prank him by rolling over his tail on "accident", but you aren't a fan of bullying.
Instead you roll up to one of his hiding spots like "hey, I have a small welcoming gift to cheer you up!"
He thinks it's "fertilizer" wrapped in a box, so he makes you open it.
It turns out to be a...portrait of himself?
You explain how you loved drawing your fellow followers, some even paying you and willing to sit still while you sketched their features in great detail.
"I hope it's alright that I took some creative liberties. I tried my best given how Leader described you in their sermons and........a-are you crying??"
"....what part of me made you assume I'm worthy to receive this? I almost killed you all!"
"Well..I like you better than our most recent dissenter who refused to listen to the Lamb unless they "cured" me."
"...ah, I see. So..what became of them?"
"Their body's still in the morgue pit. It's pretty messy...wanna see it?"
"Sure."
Leshy
Tbh he had no idea you were even in a wheelchair to begin with.
So when he first begins his farming duties within the cult, he hears wheels squeaking and thinks somebody's stealing the wheelbarrow from him.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going with that?! I need the wheelbarrow to-!!"
"Actually it's my wheelchair, Leshy. But you were close." You chuckle, assuring him you're not offended when he starts apologizing profusely.
It's a rather awkward first meeting between you two, though you both get along well afterwards.
Given that he's blind, it's hard for him to get around the base, too, so he sympathizes with you on that matter.
It took him a while just to focus on one person's scent at a time with so many followers surrounding him.
But he recognizes you by the smell of wood (different from the one he smells by the lumberyard) mixed in with your scent. So he always knows if you're approaching him.
And when he should stop so he doesn't accidentally bump into your wheelchair.
You've actually helped guide him around by letting him "push" your chair (he just holds onto the handles while you take him to different places so he can get a feel for the base's layout).
Leshy learns you love to draw, being disappointed he can't see the masterpieces you've created.
But you always describe them in great details for him, eventually deciding to invest in painting (specifically with acrylics) so he could feel the textures instead.
Heket
Caravans and carts have a difficult time traversing the swampy, mucky, and uneven terrain of Anura, so she's never seen a wheelchair user before.
When she meets you as a newly-indoctrinated follower, she just stares at your aid curiously, unsure of how to approach you and ask about it.
But since she has a constant resting bitch face, you think she's giving you a dirty look--and you give her one in kind.
"If you have something you wanna say, Heket, then-"
"..sorry.....didn't....mean...to...stare.."
Suddenly you remembered that she can barely talk, and you feel kinda bad for insulting her own disability.
So you cooked her a meal as an apology, to which she forgives you right away and warms up to you quicker than expected (though only bc you made great food).
She learns you love drawing and kinda wants to learn it herself. It could be a good way for her to better communicate her feelings.
Albeit her skills are.....novice at best.
She can draw runes, sigils, and demonic circles to perfection but drawing a simple frog is....tricky.
You give her some advice, and when she gets better through practice, you decide to draw portraits of each other.
Eventually she's comfortable enough to ask about your wheelchair, admitting she likes how you designed it.
Kallamar
He's likely no stranger to having followers with disabilities during his ruling of Anchordeep.
He may have been a ruthless paranoid bishop, but he's not cruel and has crafted mobility aids for whoever asked for one. Canes, wheelchairs, prosthetics--you name it. He even commissioned Kudaai for ones with weapon augments.
So he doesn't treat you any differently when he's indoctrinated into the cult, introducing himself like he would anybody else.
As narcissistic as he is sometimes, he's actually cool to be around.
But you feel like he only acts polite bc of Lamb.
While Kallamar knows you like to be independent, he's willing to help you out if asked.
Whether it's pushing your chair if your arms get tired, or to position it during a ritual you're attending, he's on the case.
The only con to this friendship is that he's deaf af and may have to lean down to hear you better.
But you don't mind it.
When he learns that you love to draw, he wonders if you've ever considered drawing him (he's far too shy to ask though).
However you must have a sixth sense...because you made him a portrait as a gift for a special occasion (aka the day the Blue Crown chose him as its bearer) and put it in a beautiful frame lined with crystal specs, leaving it wrapped up by his shelter.
After he sees it, he hugs it and rushes over to Lamb like "look at what Y/N made for me!!"
"That's nice, Kallamar-"
Do I have your permission to marry them?"
".....huh..?"
Shamura
They become an avid observer of everybody in the cult. Just to get a read on their personalities and what they do on a daily basis.
You're no exception, and they're impressed at how you get yourself around in a wheelchair.
Despite their damaged mind, it's still forever hungry for knowledge.
So they respectfully ask you how long you've had your aid and why, how Lamb has accommodated you, etc.
They're forgetful, but they hope to remember at least this for once and not have to ask you again.
You don't mind it at all, appreciating their politeness.
Whenever you're done with tasks and spend your free time drawing, Shamura often comes over to ask what inspired you today.
But one evening, they have a bad migraine attack while talking to you, forgetting who you are mid-conversation as they hissed, before skittering off....much to your bewilderment.
They couldn't sleep that night, wrought with guilt for acting that way in front of you, and the next morning they still can't remember your name despite it being on the very tip of their tongue.
They think it's wise to avoid you, but you track them down with a gift to assure them you weren't mad:
A simple portrait of themselves, signed with your name in the corner so they'd always have a reminder of you.
Least to say, Shamura hasn't forgotten your name since and is forever grateful.
#clanask#anonymous#cult of the lamb x reader#cotl x reader#follower bishops#follower leshy#follower narinder#follower kallamar#follower shamura#follower heket#leshy x reader#heket x reader#kallamar x reader#shamura x reader#narinder x reader#disabled reader#platonic#headcanons#tw ableism#just a small mention of it but putting this tag just in case!
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can you please do prompt 2 and 4 with johnny cade?
Outsiders Prompt Fic #5- Why does it hurt so much?
Hi anon! I chose prompt 2 to write for this one. Enjoy!
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Johnny Cade is no stranger to pain.
When he was three mama had dropped him taking him out of the bath and he’d hit his head bad enough to give him a concussion. When he was six dad had broken his arm after he lost a little league game and cried about it. He’d survived more beatings than most kids could even dream of- even most east side kids. He’d been sworn at, screamed at, kicked, punched, slapped, and on one particularly memorable occasion when he was fourteen, walloped with a two by four when his old man had been laid off from his job at the lumberyard. He’d even been jumped, bad enough that that horrible white scar tore down his face would be a permanent fixture he was still trying to come to terms with. Over the years he’d come to learn how to grin and bear it. He took every beating in silence, because crying or begging or even screaming only ever made them worse. He’d laughed with broken ribs. Smiled through a puffy lip. Leaned against his friends even when it pressed against his bruises, until pain became first a constant and then an afterthought, simply another fact of his miserable life. You spend enough time in pain, he’d come to realize, then being in pain just becomes normal.
Which is why it’s strange that the stomach flu of all things seems to be able to bring him to his knees- literally. He’s currently puking in the Curtis’ bathroom, unsure if the vomiting or the agony radiating from his stomach is what’s forcing tears from his eyes.
God, his stomach hurts. He can’t remember anything ever hurting this much. Not even that time mama pressed his palm against the stove when he was eight and accidentally spilled the dinner she made.
“Easy Johnny, you’re alright,” Pony is here, the quiet, supportive pillar he’s always been that makes him Johnny’s best friend in the whole world. Though a part of him is embarrassed that anyone is here to witness this, a much larger part of him, the part that is tired, sick and in pain, is infinitely glad that Ponyboy is here. Pony won’t judge him, never has, never will. Pony will take care of him, the way he has for the past three days, and not make him feel like a baby. Everyone else, whenever they’re around, has hovered and coddled. Pony is just present, his worry quieter, his care soft with love but not pity.
Even Dallas had been weird about this, the whole Johnny being sick thing. He’d acted like a spooked horse when he first got sick and not reappeared after he first came by to check on him two days ago. Maybe if Johnny wasn’t feeling so lousy, he’d care more about that, try and puzzle out why. As it is, it’s all he can do to make sure he makes it to the toilet every time he needs to puke.
It’s a strange illness, one Johnny is quite sure he never wants to experience again. Crashing waves of nausea and pain for hours, followed by brief reprieves where he believes he’s started to turn a corner before the nausea returns full force. It’s a vicious cycle. Johnny hates it.
He’s so tired.
“It’s just the stomach flu,” he murmurs to Pony, slumping bonelessly against his friend’s side. The younger boy presses a glass of water into his hand, and Johnny lifts it to his lips, his hand shaking like a leaf, “why does it hurt so much?’
“That’s just the thing ain’t it Johnnycakes? I’m startin’ to think it isn’t just the stomach flu.”
Pony’s getting real worried now, Johnny can tell because his voice always gets a bit younger when he’s anxious and he starts immediately looking around for Darry. But Darry isn’t here right now, is at work for at least the next hour. Soda and Steve are both working close at the DX, Two-bit is nursing his own sick kid sister, and Dally is still wherever Dally is. If the chips turn down- and they will, because Johnny knows he must have been born under a bad star for all the times luck is never in his favour- Pony is all he’s got. The thought isn’t as daunting as perhaps it should be. Here he is, sick and not entirely conscious, and all he knows is he trusts Ponyboy Curtis with his life. For all Ponyboy is two years younger, for all he’s the baby of the gang, Johnny doesn’t know anyone he depends on as much as him.
“Probably not,” he admits. This isn’t right, he knows it, has known it since yesterday even. The stomach flu shouldn’t feel like there’s a hot iron stuck in his abdomen, shouldn’t make him half paralyzed with pain and unable to think properly. “Whatever it is, I think it might be bad.”
“Darry’ll be home in a hour,” Pony says decisively, and if Johnny wasn’t so sick he doesn’t think he’d be able to hide his grin at the fact that for all Pony complains about his eldest brother, he’s always the first person he goes to in a crisis, “I’ll give him a call, see if he can hurry along, and we’ll get him to take you to a clinic.”
“Don’t got insurance,” Johnny points out. If he went to the doctor, it wouldn’t matter if this illness didn’t kill him because his old man sure would, “can’t afford no hospital bills.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ponyboy waves his concern off, “Darry got Dal to get you a fake insurance card. It’s a real good forgery, looks as good as my real one. Far as the state’s concerned, you’re me when you’re sick.
“I ain’t passin’ those hospital bills to you guys!”
“Well we ain’t takin’ no for an answer. If you need a hospital, you’ll go.”
Johnny can tell he means it. He also knows Darry and Soda will back him. All the Curtis boys are as stubborn as they come, and selfless to boot.
He sighs, too tired to argue.
“Alright.”
“I’ll go give Darry a call,” Pony says, squeezing his shoulder gently before he leaves.
Johnny counts the tiles on the bathroom floor as a fresh wave of agony rears it’s ugly head, causing sweat to bead on his brow and harsh breaths to force their way through his clenched teeth.
He’s only managed to count thirteen tiles by the time Ponyboy returns with a cool cloth and a relieved expression.
“Darry’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Pony tells him, pressing the cloth against his burning neck. He can’t help but sigh at the feeling. It does nothing to dull the pain but offer something else to focus on, but for Johnny that’s enough, “he was almost done anyway but his forman let him go early since it’s an emergency.”
He bites his lip, and Johnny can tell he’s trying very hard to decide whether he’s going to say whatever it is he’s thinking.
“Dar…darry says he thinks you might have appendicitis,” he says at last. Huh,Johnny thinks, that kind of makes sense. With his luck, it’s not surprising his own organs have decided to mutiny against him. “He says he was worried about it yesterday but now he’s pretty sure. You’ll definitely need the hospital.”
At this point, if a hospital can make the pain even lessen, it’ll be worth it.
“Thanks Pony,” he leans his head against his best friend’s shoulder, too tired and too sick to do anything else.
Pony rests his own head on Johnny’s, long hair tickling Johnny’s cheek, until Darry bursts in in all his superman glory and takes control of the situation the way he always does.
Johnny Cade is no stranger to pain, but with a friend like Ponyboy Curtis to help him through it he doesn’t really mind.
#the outsiders#johnny cade#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#dallas winston#sodapop curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#the outsiders prompts#lovelythoughts
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Hey, got a random question for you. Everyone loves talking about their favorite Arknights characters, but I noticed that a lot of the top favorites tend to be 6 stars, 5 stars, or the occasional 4 star. So I gotta ask you this, who is your favorite 3 star and 2 star character for character/writing reasons. Not gameplay, but just plain ol' "I just think they're neat!"
2 star - Rangers. Originium Dust had a lot of running gags from the saga of Liskarm's stolen car to Blitz adjusting to Terra way too quickly (his first words upon landing on an alien world is opening the door, slamming it, then going "Does anyone have any experience fighting an arthropod the size of a small car?") But the best running gag is everyone talking about Rangers as some legendary sheriff from ages past and him getting increasingly annoyed at how exaggerated his life was, until even Stormeye was saying shit like "It was an honor to fight alongside the Scimitar of the Crimson Valley" and Rangers just gives up on correcting people (but also it /is/ incredibly suspicious that all the Sargonian Rangers were killed in action. All of them, except one.)
3 star - Popukar. They get you at first by having Popukar tell her story as a child slave at a lumberyard who was bought by Dr. Kal'tsit and brought to Rhodes Island in Stories of Afternoon, only to hint in Dorothy's Vision that Popukar is actually the third survivor of Columbia's child soldier experiments, along with Rosmontis and Ifrit.
The Lumberyard is not a lumberyard, but a lab, and suddenly Popukar's parents selling a literal toddler to do manual labor makes way more sense. They didn't sell her to cut down trees, they sold her to become a test subject for the Columbian military.
Dr. Kal'tsit wasn't completely lying to Popukar when she told the Popukar that the latter was shaped out of clay. That wasn't a "You never had parents, don't look for them anymore. We are your family now", kind of lie, that was a "the body you have now was built" statement.
Why does a very small child have super strength and loses consciousness while going into a berserker rage if she was "just" a slave? She was made to be a weapon.
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lil treech rant bc i'm ANNOYING
the perception of treech has changed so drastically from the fandoms understanding of him when the book first came out to the movie. before the movie, the main agreement on treech's character was that he was a circus performer (still gen one of my fav he's, i love the idea of him being a performer im some way, though i usually make his parents past circus performers instead of himself) he had some clear trauma with touch (i personally make him autistic because of this, imagining sensory issues to be the main reason, though there are older theories abt past sa happening to him) and - one of my favourite ideas - was him being a foil to lucy gray.
both book treech and lucy gray were fairly passive until the ending of the games, both of them preferring not to engage in confrontation and instead kill in more sneaky ways (when someone wasn't looking, with poison and both seemed to be popular in the capitol.
i almost think the movie gives more proof of this with treech having the highest sponsor count after lucy gray and being the only other tribute we see struggle with guilt and morality during the games. both clearly cared about their district partners, both had a hand in their partners death. both seem to charm the capitol.
so, the majority of my own depictions of treech come to down to making him a sort of twisted version of lucy gray. his life is slightly harder than hers - i usually write him to be looking after his two sisters, struggling with a job in the lumberyard and being incredibly poor (more on that in a minute) - so he's naturally lost some of his spark.
he enjoys preforming, but sees it as a chore more often than not due to how tired he is these days, he's no longer truly happy in life.
i believe he's poor simply due to his outfit in the movie. everyone seems to be wearing something intricate, something that clearly has work and money put into it, while he's in his work clothes. i also imagine this would make him weak and much like katniss, i think he'd be underfed in his attempts to provide for his sisters and put them above himself.
a lot of the time, i see people act as though him joining the pack in the movie didn't make any sense when compared to the book, and though i agree it does change the plot, i don't think it at all changes his character. he's a coward in both book and movie, he avoids confrontation in the book, only steals from the already weakened and hides the entire games. in the movie he leaves lamina despite wishing to stay with her as he's more concerned with his safety that with being courageous.
personally, i think book treech may have also joined the pack if given the chance. i do think his survival would always come above morality for him, no matter how clear it is that the guilt tears his up about it.
treech's death, however, is the most impactful for me in both the book and movie. in the book you see a boy so desperate for comfort that he latches onto lucy gray's embrace, or you could instead see a boy so fearful of touch that he freezes in her arms. either way, he's clearly filled with rage when the snake bites, because book treech knew he was going home. he could have beaten lucy gray and reaper had rabies - treech had practically already been basking in his victory.
then a snake latched onto him and in his final moments he bashed the snake to death in revenge as he couldn't reach lucy gray.
movie treech, however, was in agony. he didn't digest the poison as dill did, meaning it instead would have had to enter his bloodstream, which would have been more painful and slower. you can see him covering his face, shaking, retching and practically sobbing before he dies, all while he's ignored and left to lay there forgotten.
movie treech is also never placed in the morgue and book treech's body is dragged around by lucy gray, so even after death he's the only tribute never left to rest :)
#tbosas#frankie yaps#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#treech tbosas#GRRR RANTS#sorry im insane and love treech#PLEASE feel free to ask me treech questions im obsessed with him
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Befit For The Lonely (TBOSAS Oneshot)
((AN:// I love TBOSAS, and have recently seen the movie. One addition I really loved is the dynamic the movie gave to Lamina and Treech, and it gave me the idea of what if they were friendly back in District 7. Apologies for any grammatical mistakes))
TBOSAS SPOILER WARNING
A chill blew through the arena, the night sky empty and starless, and Lamina wished she had a coat. She curled her body inwards. Who knew a July in the capitol could have such colder evenings? Lamina rested her head on her knees, squinting into the darkened arena. No one. Perhaps they were all asleep, waiting for the morning sun. Well, Lamina hoped that, at least.
Who was left?, she wondered. Some of the tributes died before entering the arena, and about six more were killed in the blood bath. Lamina tapped the handle of her ax as a name came to her head.
Mizzen. Coral. Reaper. Wovey. Tanner. Lucy Gray. Treech.
Treech.
She quietly scoffed to herself. Treech, working with Coral, Mizzen, and Tanner. Treech, the boy who had wrapped his arms around her when Brandy was shot, pulling her to safety. Who held her hand on the train as they traveled to the Capitol. Who she considers a friend. Her stomach dropped with slight shake of her head. No. Considered. Now alone on the beam, it felt ironically fitting how the clarity shone on her.
They weren’t close. No, no. They were friends of friends. Acquaintances from the lumberyard who met because of a lover’s tryst. She smiled ruefully, thinking to the days where their two friends, Treech and herself would sneak into an alcove in the midst of the woods and sit on thick branches, feasting on wild plants and whatever scraps they brought from their homes. Her friend would cling to his friend’s arm, talking to each other like no one else existed. Like Treech and her were trees themselves. She would catch his eye, and they'd share a smile. They thought their friends were overly affectionate in a near silly manner. Lamina an Treech didn’t talk much, but they found themselves confiding with each other when there was no one around. Lamina would confide in him about her dreams, and he would do the same in turn.
Lamina’s eyes stung, but her eyes remained dry, her tears gone. The words they had shared, the friendship they were beginning to form faded like leaves in the wind, if there was even one to begin with. It made their promise in the zoo seem fruitless. Though, perhaps they had always been fruitless. Treech hadn’t said a word to her when they were reaped. He hadn’t said many words at all until they reached the zoo. A chill like this night had been in the air. Treech was resting on the ground, his back just touching hers as they tried to sleep. Lamina’s eyes filled with a few tears, but she wasn’t. She knew one of them wouldn’t make it out alive.
“Treech…we’ll make sure we get home. Can we do that?” she whispered.
Cicadas filled her ears, waiting for his response. She wondered if he was asleep. Or she had said something wrong. Lamina had felt her anxiety curl inside when he responded.
“Yeah, we’ll make it home. You and me.” Treech whispered softly.
Lamina had smiled then, now she waits for tears that weren’t coming. Treech was off with the strong hands, accepting Coral’s offer and killing tributes left and right. And Lamina? She waits high on the beam, alone and trying to survive the night.
How befitting for the lonely.
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#the hunger games#thg#tbosas fanfiction#thg fanfiction#lamina tbosas#treech tbosas
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Meet the Followers Part 1
Starting off with the first batch of followers in the Beyond the Shores au of mine!
Info below for each character
Collie: Collie is the yellow cat in this AU of mine and works on the farm for the cult. Collie has quite a plentiful amount of knowledge about anything vegetation and agriculture. He is quite a hard worker and enjoys the company of Leshy whenever he decides to come out of the ground after scaring his fill of the other followers. He originates from Darkwood and was rescued by "Lambert" before getting sacrificed for the bishop worshipped there, he doesn't know who was the bishop there however.
Samara: Samara, also known as Sam, is a Hyena-Tiger hybrid and was cast out from their home in Anura due to their appearance and was labelled as a freak of nature. Samara works mainly as a missionary and always comes back with the most amount of resources out of all other missionaries in the cult. She is an odd follower as she isn't much of a socialite nor does she wish to take part in any rituals that are occurring. She never worships either, and if "Lambert" tries to read her mind, they end up with blank results.
Victoria: Victoria is a hedgehog and is the best chef you can ever enjoy food from. She loves to cook but also loves to gossip about any drama or tea that is spreading around the cult. She is quite the strict and harsh woman in the kitchen and hates whenever anyone wastes food, so you better have an empty bowl before you can go back to work and worship The Lamb. She is also married to the cult's Bull, Benjamin. Victoria comes from Anchordeep and was rescued after her home was ravaged by heretics of the Bishop Kallamar.
Benjamin: Benjamin is the biggest follower out of all the mortal members of the cult. He works in the Lumberyard and is the most intimidating follower in the cult. Although he may be quiet and big, he really has a soft and cuddly heart when he opens up to any of his inner circle of friends. He always looks forward to when he can eat as to always enjoy his wife Victoria's cooking. When he lived back in Darkwood, he was the weakest of the bulls in the village and was captured by heretics because of it. Only to get taken in by The Lamb.
Franky: Franky is an albino rabbit and works in the refinery. They are a quick and hyperactive worker in the cult and one of if not the most colourful! They love to play around with their outfit and wearing the rainbow all the time. He always wanted to be more colourful like the other followers, so they started to apply colourful powders onto himself to use the fur he had as a blank canvas. They are quite the chatterbox and love to pick up any conversation with anyone, though they stay from specific followers either being scared or intimidated by them. He was rescued from Silk Cradle after almost being sacrificed by heretics of the Bishop Shamura.
#cotl#cult of the lamb#cotl au#cotl fanart#cult of the lamb fanart#cotl follower#cotl oc#cult of the lamb oc#cult of the lamb au#beyond the shores au#cotl bts au#cotl beyond the shores#~doodles#cotl yellow cat#cult of the lamb follower#follower collie#follower samara#follower victoria#follower benjamin#follower franky
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[orc] Zorag Iron - 2/3
orc!Zorag Iron x human!Reader - 2/3
Good to know: smut
Summary: Your argument with Zorag takes a sudden turn.
The rain is still heavy and restless. It pours from the dark sky, drumming on the roof of the van. The wipers on the windshield move back and forth without pause. Their clicking is a constant noise in the background, mixing with the songs coming from the radio. None of you pay attention to it. You can barely see the road through the window, and you definitely can't see the name of the streets.
"They will still be open, right?" You ask, glancing at the clock. If they didn't decide to close sooner because of the weather, they should.
You only hope you didn't come all this way for nothing.
And the orc next to you thinks the same thing. "I hope so," Zorag grunts. "If not, I will find someone to take care of the orders."
"Turn to the left," you are the one who breaks the silence again. "Now, Zorag!"
"That's the wrong way."
"No, it's not. I have been there before."
"Me too," he continues to argue with you, passing the left turn completely. "I know how to drive, Ruby."
You roll your eyes. "Of course, you know."
His frown deepens. You aren't even sure what he looks like without the wrinkle between his thick brows.
"What do you mean by that?" He grunts.
"Why can't you listen to me?" You ask him, pulling your arm tighter in front of your chest. "That was the right way."
"Or maybe…" Sarcasm drips from each word he says. "Maybe there are several other ways to get to the address."
You know he is right. And you want to pull on his hair because of it.
Soon, you reach your destination, and fortunately, the gates open in front of you immediately. One of the workers shows you where to go, and Zorag parks down in front of a building that looks familiar that you have in the lumberyard. Nobody is outside, but you can hear the others working inside.
"Stay here," Zorag grunts. "I will be quick."
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. "I bet."
The line of his jaw clenches into a hard line but says nothing. The only reply you get is the hard thud of the door as he pushes it shut.
Zorag is at his wits' end with you. But he always feels like this when you're around. No matter what you do or say, there is a twitch in his stomach that makes him want to spank you and kiss you senseless at the same time. You are bossy and bratty. You always want to tell him what to do and how to do it. You always think you know better, and you are not afraid to tell him that. He has every reason to dislike you, and still. Here he is. Half hard, even after your comment about his quickness. He can't help it, though. The van is small compared to him. You were close to him the whole time, with your sweet scent mixed with the rain. Your shirt clung to your body, showing off the soft swell of your breasts and the gentle slope of your collarbone. Your hair is still a mess even after drying in the warmth of the car.
You sit and watch the men take the planks out of the back. Zorag helps them. The hood over his head hides half of his face, but you can still see the thick tusks between his lips. You can't hear what he says, but the deep rumble of his words reaches your ears and resonate in your core. He seems even bigger next to the humans. He towers over them with his broad shoulders and muscles that make his coat stretch around his arms. You can't help but stare at him the whole time.
When everything is done, the orc sits back in the car and starts the engine with a roar. The end of his dreadlocks is wet, dripping down onto his thighs. The dark jeans he wears soak them up.
"Well," you speak up. The air is heavy and tense between you two. "I'm glad it's done."
Zorag just grunts.
"Thanks for coming with me," you try again. He nods but says nothing.
The tension doesn't lessen, and you start to worry. Maybe you really pushed him too far? The thought almost feels comical. There is no way Zorag would get mad at you just because of a snarky comment. You two do it all the time. That's the base of your relationship. You are angry at him, he is angry at you, and that's it. Life goes on. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself the whole way back to the lumberyard in your hometown.
You don't try to speak with him anymore, and he doesn't say anything either. Your eyes are on the window, watching the trees passing by through the rain. The forest is dark, and it seems unforgivable. Lush greens surround the mountains in the background. Their tops disappear in the dark clouds. The sky flashes here and there, and thunder shakes through the air.
You can't wait to get home.
When the van stops in the protection of the storage, you can't help but sigh with relief. The day was longer than you anticipated. The sun is ready to disappear behind the trees, and the dark clouds are still thick and loud. Another flash. Another rumble.
For a second, you just stare at the orc when both of you get out of the car. You are leaning against the door while he puts the keys back in their place. He is still tense and quiet. You can see his taut muscles even through the layers of his clothes.
"Zorag?" You break the silence after biting your bottom lip almost to bleeding.
He grunts in acknowledgment, and you roll your eyes.
"Hey," you sound almost angry. "I'm sorry okay? My comment clearly hit a sore spot, and I apologize for it. I didn't mean it."
Apologizing to Zorag is new. You feel awkward, and you just want to be done with it.
And you are clearly doing it wrong.
His body froze for a long second before turning back to you with a low growl. His dark eyes seem even more dangerous than the storm outside. The hoops around his tusks glint under the dim light of the storage.
"Hit a sore spot?" He spits.
Oh, oh.
"I mean…" you gasp. "I didn't mean it like that. I just… It was too much, and I know that now."
Before you know it, he is in front of you. His tall form towers over you, caging you against the car as you press your back to the door some more.
"Why are you so upset about it anyway?" You ask him, frowning. When your attempt to apologize takes you nowhere with the orc, you choose another route. You argue. You want to fight because you are familiar with it. You know what to expect from it, and in a strange way, it gives you comfort.
So you are almost shocked when, instead of snapping at you, Zorag smirks. And damn, he is really handsome when he does that. The curve of his lips is crooked because of his tusks, but it still stirs something in you.
"What?" You snap. "What are you doing?"
Tension keeps your back straight against the van.
"If you really want to know how long I last in bed, you only have to ask."
You scoff. Heat creeps up on your face. Your lips open and close as you try to come up with something. "I don't- I mean- I-"
"Don't lie to me, Ruby," he warns you. "Maybe my nose is not as good as the shifters', but I notice everything."
His words fan over you as he leans closer to your ear. The ring in his nose feels cold on the warm skin of your neck. Your whole body shakes at his closeness.
"What are you doing?" You gasp.
What is he doing, really? Zorag isn't even sure himself. The only thing he knows is that there is no way he will let you go this time. You and his own thoughts drove him crazy the whole way back to the lumberyard.
"Tell me you don't want it," he says. His voice is a low rumble. "Tell me you don't clench your pretty thighs every time we argue. Tell me you don't get excited when we fight."
You really want to tell him all those things. They are on the tip of your tongue. Lies. Lies. Lies.
"That's what I thought," he hums when you say nothing.
The kiss starts slowly, giving you a chance to say no. Just a brush of his lips across yours. Soft and warm. The loops on his tusks are cold. For a second, you are not even sure if he can kiss you fully because of his teeth, but then he presses his lips against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, demanding everything you can give him. One of his arms wraps around your torso, pulling you to his body and away from the car. He is devouring you. Cradling your head in his large palm, his thumb caresses the soft spot under your ear. His chest is large and hard under your hands. You burn and ache in his arms. The feeling of his tusks pressing into your skin makes you gasp against his lips. Your mind wanders to how it would feel between your legs.
After a while, he breaks the kiss but doesn't step away from you. His breath is hot against your cheeks. Your lips are swollen, and the throbbing between your legs is in sync with the rapid beating of your heart.
"Well," you gulp. Your nails dig into his coats to keep him close. "You proved nothing."
His laugh is booming. The pleasant sound runs through your body.
"I really hoped you would say that," he grins with mischief in his dark eyes. His arm falls away from your body after another quick kiss as he lowers himself to his knees.
Oh.
"Here?" You gasp, looking around even though you know nobody else is here.
The door of the storage is open, the rain still pours, and you can barely see the forest surrounding the yard.
"Here," he replies. "I don't think this pussy could wait any longer either."
Your back falls against the car again. His thick finger brushes over your center through your jeans. Your stomach twitches at the feeling.
A breathy gasp leaves your lips when he tugs on your pants and panties until they are thrown down on the floor a few meters away from you. The cold air sends shivers through your body, and your toes curl with anticipation.
Your scent fills Zogar's nostrils to the point the blood in his veins flows and burns with desire. His mouth waters at the pretty sight of your pussy. His palms smooth over the flesh of your thighs, gripping the back of your knees to pull your legs apart until he can see your folds. Wet and aching.
One of your hands is on the van behind you as you try to keep your balance while the other is already in his hair. Your grip on his thick locks is almost painful. It fuels his need for you. Zorag leans in, licking over your wetness once, twice, three times before he delves into your pussy. His tongue swirls through your folds, around your clit, and inside your entrance. Your juices coat his taste buds, his lips, and his chin. And all of a sudden, he has no idea how he could live without this anymore.
Urging him on, you pull on his hair and grind your burning cunt against his face. You almost ride him, and he is more than happy to be used by you. He licks and teases, grazing his tusk over your clit.
"Zorag!" You cry out his name. "Fuck!"
His cock is hard as he listens to your moans and groans. His name leaves your lips like a prayer.
One of his fingers finds your entrance while his lips close around your clit. Your frantic breathing changes into sobs at the sudden feeling. Pleasure burns your veins, and the coil in your stomach is tight and ready to snap. Zorag pumps in and out of you, curling his finger just the right way to find every spongy spot that makes you scream and beg for more.
"Please," you moan. His cock twitches with every sweet word that leaves your lips. "Please, don't stop. Zorag!"
He recognizes your orgasm even before you do. Your clit throbs on his tongue, and your walls flutter around his finger as you chase your release. He is the only one who keeps you from falling as your body jumps and shakes with pleasure.
"See?" He grunts, standing up. His arms slide around you to keep you on your legs. His mouth is full of your taste. His deep green skin glints with your wetness. "It's so much better when you stop being so bossy."
You want to hit him.
-
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#monster x human#monster x reader#orc x human#orc x reader#ironridge#orc smut#monster smut#monster romance#orc romance#orc boyfriend#monster boyfriend
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Another Follower of New Haven for the Cult! Coming in with Courage, the cult's labor master and one of the Lamb's unseen spies.
More about him, below the cut - along with alternative text of whats on the sheet!
About Courage
Hailing from Anura, he was once a cut throat bandit with his younger brother Fear. However, in recent events - the brothers were separated after a stint of stealing from Heket's cult went foul. Fear,was imprisoned to starve and to become a sacrifice for Heket. And Courage, found himself on the run with the rest of his clansmen slaughtered.
Cornered, Courage had fought off the cultists until exhaustion - surely meant to meet his end at the end of their blades. That is, until the Lamb came along and got him out of the mess. Who had heard of a troublesome and elusive mutt was giving the cultists trouble.
And an enemy of an enemy - was surely ideal to become one of the Lamb's Recruits. And with the Lamb dispatching Heket's followers with merciless efficiency (Courage lowkey has orc-courtship vibes) it was a compelling argument. But with one condition - Find his brother, and Courage would join her cult. But how the Lamb would find Fear, is a story for another time.
Eventually, with his brother brought to New Haven, Courage became a rather known face through the cult. Extroverted, good humored, and a hard worker, many would not think that he was once a bandit...nor would they think that he serves as an spy and assassin for the Lamb.
Reference Sheet Text
To most cult members, Courage is the charismatic master of labor. Many cult members find him easy to get along with.
Can be seen working in the lumberyard most days.
Speed talisman is a token from his old clan, and the longevity talisman bestowed by the lamb. He takes particular pride in wearing them
Courage maintains a civilian persona but actually does the dirty work behind the scenes for the Lamb with his brother, Fear.
Hides his status as one of the Lamb's Chosen to spy on the other cult members without issue.
Was previous a rogue that roamed Anura with his brother and clansmen.
Gambeson and armor come from his bandit days, but now proudly wears red with his gear.
Only wears the camellia medallion when on "business" for the Lamb. Its keenly polished and well taken care of.
Wears a shroud when being sent out to represent the Lamb and dirty his hands. Hides his identity as well.
Eerily quiet when "on the job". A stark contrast to his public persona within the cult.
#A Gift From Below#Followers of New Haven#OC: Courage#cult of the lamb oc#cult of the lamb#cotl oc#courage is lowkey a simp for the lamb via orc courtship#little creature with amazing strength? whoa!!!!#Fear is coming up next#hopefully soon#and then there will be maybe three more characters of the “main” cultists#yeehaw#wish me luck#cult of the lamb followers#cult of the lamb follower oc#follower oc
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Years ago I read an article in Bicycling magazine called Invisible Riders. Of the thousands of magazine articles I've read, this one has always stuck in my mind.
It's about the bicyclists, often poor, who pedal cheap bikes to work. They aren't doing it for fitness. There's no racing or sightseeing. Saving the environment isn't a consideration. The title is explained in these two sentences:
You and I have seen the bikes everywhere—cheap, department-store rigs chained to fences and signposts outside car washes, lumberyards, budget chain restaurants. But we’ve never seen the riders, not really.
I thought of that article again this morning as I entered a grocery store. Outside It's -5°F (-20°C). Here rests this clunky Schwinn, locked to a bike rack with a cheap cable.
The seat is adjusted oddly. There's a water bottle holder, but it's placement renders it useless. The sagging chain sits on the smallest gear in back. It's likely the other gears never feel that chain. This Schwinn has as much carbon fiber and titanium as the Mayflower did.
The lack of snow and frost on the seat and handlebars indicates this was pedaled to the store this morning. It is not abandoned.
The little Schwinn could belong to someone going shopping. Inside I didn't see anyone wearing a backpack. So it probably belongs to one of the employees.
When I worked downtown I used to do some bike commuting. I loved every minute of it, even when I got caught in the rain or had a flat. I could afford nice gear. My waterproof panniers had room for spare tubes and tools in addition to my laptop and work pants. I even did a bunch of winter rides, wearing Gore-tex and fleece, but never when the temperature was sub-zero. I still use those nice panniers to go grocery shopping these days -- in the spring and summer.
The ratio of miles pedaled to money spent on the Invisible Riders' bikes must be astronomically greater than that of most carbon fiber racing bikes I've seen around town.
These Invisible Riders bikes always catch my eye, when they are parked. And I guess I don't notice as often when they're being ridden.
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I would so be interested in hearing your headcanons for the tbosas characters if you feel like sharing!!
AAA I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN I RECIEVED THIS THANK U SMM!!
i have actually so many idk if i could fit this all in one ask but ill start w treemina
so my hc for treech's surname is elwood, and he has 2 siblings, one older brother named rowan, and a younger sister named hana. basically his older brother was killed in an accident in the lumberyards when he was young, which left treech as the sole provider for his family, since his father passed from illness and his mother is unfit to work. he left school really young to join the lumberyards and make his brother proud (probably at like 12 or 13) but always kept trying to teach himself things out of old books he finds in his house, because he loves to learn and find out things about the world. he is js innately very curious about why things are the way they are, which makes him almost skeptical at times. he's really close with hana, and she was twelve when he was reaped, so he was only worrying about her and he didn't even think that his own name would be called.
he knew lamina before the games but not very closely, i imagine him to be quite jealous of her because although they are both from a poorer part of d7, lamina has older brothers she can rely on and she can stay in school. they had a few quick encounters, and treech knew her because she would always try to sell her woodwork to him/his family but he always politely declined since they didn't have enough money. he's almost mesmerised by the way that she crafts things and develops a small crush on her, which he feels absolutely awful about during the games.
speaking of lamina, i hc her last name to be thorn and that she's the youngest of four siblings, all brothers. her family isn't very close with her, and she has issues with her mother especially. she never met her dad, he was gunned down by peacekeepers before she was born, so her mother kind of latches on that hurt and resentment to lamina, and favours her brothers over her. her brothers all view eachother as competition almost, for who could be the best son, and lamina is so far left behind in that argument that she can't really connect w/ them either. she couldnt afford to be very emotional before the games because she knew she'd be ridiculed by her family for it so she tried to be nonchalant, but as soon as she's reaped she knows deep down that she isnt going to make it, and if she wants to be her true self and show her true feelings its going to be now. she is very steadfast in her morals and refuses to take another's life, unless it's for mercy (like marcus) and believes she'd rather die herself than become something else of the capitol's creation.
i may have to make a part two to this because its so long but sorry for ranting and thank u for the ask!!!!
#IM SO HAPPY RN#THANK YOUU#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#treech tbosas#lamina tbosas#treemina#bel answers stuff
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New AK ask.
What region (Columbia, Sargon, Kazdel, etc) do you want to learn more about the most? Who do you think we should be following in an event that explores it?
Ooh this is a neat one, yeah. Let's start with considering those 3 first as there's certainly things to say there.
Columbia - We still have Lonetrail yet to drop and any further storyline following that for the Rhine Lab arc, plus there's now the upcoming Blacksteel Worldwide event Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures to give us further exploration.
I want them to free Domma from NPC jail but that might require a Mountain Alter-worthy event :/ Orchid, Frostleaf or Vigna might have more potential there.
Sargon - We have the Acahualla storyline that may get a third event, and now Reclamation Algorithm: Fire Within the Sand has provided an expansion of the Sand Soldier/Old Isin section of Walk in the Dust story. Manticore gets some story time from that one too, which was nice to see.
A look at Beeswax getting to do her own thing more confidently might be fun, but then personally I'd be more down for something following adorably-precious Estelle who has been given snippets so far of her getting through her anxieties and dealing with that 'being seen as a battle goddess' moment. That IS2 mapping with the Archosauria trio was perfect, we need more.
Kazdel - This would be interesting since they only ever showcased it as cold, snow-covered ruins until that one scene in Episode 11 of the capital that repeatedly got destroyed and rebuilt. Most of the related cast are major players of the main story Act 2, whether as NPCs unlikely to join or Operators resolving certain threads and fates.
(Playable Closure is so close yet just out of reach...) Hoederer might be a good solo event candidate as a What the F... style interlude if we regroup with him in Episode 13. Or hey, Meteorite Alter please? She needs something after the whole 'traumatised by autopilot!Specter fighting' gag and her story with Firewatch... W Alter could be an Episode-related moment if that has any possibility.
Sami is going to be covered by IS4 and its coinciding vignette event for Typhon, Skógrinn Svartr Vill Einn Draumr. Aegir will likely be explored through the next installment of the Abyssal Hunters storyline.
We need events for Durin, Higashi, Rim Billiton and Minos for further explorations/catching up to other locales.
Seeing Croque and Deculture again would be great but not anything new Durin-wise so maybe we could have sleepyhead Durin visiting elsewhere. We don't particularly need a Myrtle Alter unless she's gonna be the Ultra-Super Flagbearer to show up Saileach...
So far Higashi has effectively been vaguely explained as doing their own thing and one additional loadscreen lore tidbit established how they curbstomped Ursus trying to invade. The recent Leaves Chasing Fire/A Flurry to the Flame Monster Hunter collab featured a rather isolated mountain village, as MonHun is wont to do. My picks for a lead would be: Matoimaru, Tsukinogi and Utage. Overlooked launch unit, niche Supporter, and cute gyaru needs justice for that damn module 'Talent'.
For a Rim Billiton event it could center on April and/or Savage; Ansel; Asbestos on her solo travels. Getting to the bottom of either the incident in Kroos the Keen Glint's past or Popukar's Lumberyard would be neat too.
And Minos - Sideroca or Perfumer Lena, I'd like. They need some appreciation. Rather little to work with compared to others, so yeah we really need some kind of story there.
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Lee hadn't planned to Volunteer.
It was a nightmare of a situation, to be sure. Lee was forced to be on stage with the other Victors, including Linden, fresh off her win only to be in that damned bowl again. He felt helpless, looking out at the crowd of faces. All of them in danger. All of them at risk. All of them hoping against hope it wasn't them. No one's odds had ever been this good, but then again, so many of them had gone up from zero percent. How could you draw breath in a scene like that?
There was ice in the silence amongst the District as the anthem played to their unhearing ears, and ice in the glaze of their eyes as the propos video played. The Peacekeepers in the crowds and on stage stiffened visibly as the video concluded, and then it was all Linden. Poor, small, Linden. What a terrible thing. She could draw herself, again, and Ellie would be... no. Lee couldn't think of that right now.
In fact, he didn't get the chance to. Linden was clearly scared, but she wasn't about to defy the Peacekeepers with weapons on stage. Her hand plunged deep into the bowl. It rotated once, twice. What a concept. Lee had always seen the Escorts do that, and it had always felt so cruel. So pointless. To stir the names before drawing. After all, what difference did it make? It had always seemed to him a nasty performance, as if to say, See? It's all equal. But now he saw it differently. He could almost feel the fire on his own fingers as she dug deep, probably chanting to herself, Someone I don't know. Not me. Not my friends.
She called a name, and Lee's breath fell from his chest. He didn't recognize it. He instantly bit his lip, angry with himself. How could he be glad at a time like this? But then again, how could he not? It wasn't Bluejay. It wasn't Juniper. It wasn't Elma. It wasn't any of the workers at the lumberyards with him. It wasn't his father's old drinking friends. It wasn't Bluejay's first girlfriend, or the patient Juniper had mended at the hospital. It wasn't any of the previous names he'd heard before, ushered to their deaths, and left families behind. He didn't recognize the name, and he was grateful. It wasn't him.
Someone shuffled forward from the crowd. Lee couldn't make out their form properly - the Peacekeepers were so tightly surrounding them. Even when brought onto stage, the escort lined behind the Tribute, blocking them from Lee's view at the back of the stage.
But Lee once again wasn't given time to catch his breath, because Linden's hand was already in the bowl again. Who knew what her reasoning was - maybe she felt she needed to be equitable. Maybe she felt she had pressed her luck with the deep end of the bowl. Maybe she, like Lee, now saw the futility of the gesture and wanted nothing more to have the ceremony be over so they could move on. But her hand was barely in the bowl when she snatched a piece of paper off the top. Her voice was like a Peacekeeper's gunshot.
"Alder Reid."
Lee's head snapped sideways, his jaw agape, as he looked for Alder. No, no, no! This couldn't be happening. He looked for Forest, for anyone on that stage. This was unreal. There was no way. With all the population of Seven here, the odds of this were astronomical. It couldn't be happening.
His breath fell full into his lungs. Lee took a half step forward, but no further. A Peacekeeper behind him grabbed him by the waist and pulled him back. Suddenly there was no air in his lungs anymore - he felt the cold metal of a pistol press deep into his ribs, pressing the breath out of him.
"Don't," someone growled in his ear. "Don't do a damn thing. Or you'll die right here, and he will still go into the Arena." And then there was nothing. Alder was gone - a mob of Peacekeepers doing their dutiful jobs. Linden was gone, the Escort escorted away. Forest was gone, ushered into the capital building with the other Tribute. It seemed like it was just Lee, alone on stage with the entirety of Seven watching, as he lost his breath. It didn't come in gasps, it didn't come in heaves. It simply wasn't there.
The barrel of the gun dug further into his back. He followed its lead, stumbling forward. A second Peacekeeper materialized, grabbing him by the elbow. Then a third, taking his shoulder, then a fourth, jabbing him in the back to move. So he moved. He moved.
Something in his soul moved, too.
No, Lee Hatchett had not planned to Volunteer. But he had found a calling all the same.
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Halo Reloaded: Eating For 3
The chatter around the room dulled as Linda's Spartan and MJOLNIR-Trooper comrades glance at her sprawling buffet with a mix of morbid fascination and horror.
Piled high was an ungodly combination of four MRE packs, ten slices of deep-dish pizza, seven bananas, six buckets of chicken drumsticks, four towering milkshakes, and fourteen slabs of raw steak.
Unfazed, Linda adjusted herself and muttered with a wry grin, “Alright, kiddos, buckle up. Time to eat.”
John stood nearby with an eyebrow arched, arms crossed. “Linda, you sure about this? That’s enough food to feed a battalion of 100.”
Linda popped open her first MRE, the plastic crinkling like a tiny firecracker in her hands. “Just another Tuesday, John. And I’m eating for three now,” she quipped, as she tore through the vacuum-sealed contents with military precision, dispatching each entrée with mechanical efficiency.
“Here we go,” Banks murmured, her arms crossed as she watched with something between awe and mild queasiness. “One down, three to go.”
Palmer stepped up beside her, shaking her head in disbelief. “And we haven't even hit the pizza or steaks yet.”
Linda moved on to the deep-dish pizza, folding each cheesy triangle into her mouth as if she were dealing a deck of cards. Kelly stood across the table with her hands on her hips, a bemused smile playing on her lips.
“Leave some for us, would ya?” she called out.
Linda paused just long enough to flash Kelly a grin, a strand of cheese hanging from her lip. “You’re welcome to share,” she said, motioning to the empty chair beside her.
“Yeah, no thanks. You clearly got it covered,” Kelly replied, laughing.
Buckets of chicken drumsticks came next, and Linda didn’t even bother with napkins, tearing through them with an almost primal fervor. Drumsticks vanished like they were going out of style, and the bones piled up like a miniature lumberyard.
John approached, arms still crossed. “Chew your food, Linda,” he advised dryly.
“I always do, Chief,” she retorted, pointing a half-eaten drumstick at him before downing the last bit.Washing the bones down with a long slurp of chocolate milkshake, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh, rubbing her belly with both hands. “Ah, that hit the spot.”
Lovell leaned into Palmer, whispering, “Do you think those twins have had enough?”
“Not with the way their mom eats. They’re probably already eyeing that steak,” Palmer replied.
Linda moved on to the raw steaks like a wolf among lambs. She sliced through the marbled cuts with ruthless precision, savoring each bite and licking her fingers clean after every piece. When the final slab had been polished off, Linda leaned back in her chair and surveyes the scattered remains of her meal.
“All fueled up,” she sighed with satisfaction. “Good job, team.”
John shook his head, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Next time we’re having a potluck, you’re bringing the desserts.”
Linda hauled herself up with a grunt, stretching her arms and yawning like a satisfied lioness. “I’ll see what I can do, Chief,” she called over her shoulder.
As she sauntered off, Kelly, Palmer, and Banks exchanged looks, shaking their heads. “Force of nature,” Kelly muttered with a smirk. John chuckles, “Damn right, and that’s why she’s one of us "
#halo#halo fanfic#halo fanfiction#halo au#helix studios117#halo reloaded#ultimate halo#jaune 117#linda 058#john 117 x linda 058
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Oh and since I've started the rough drafts of them, here's some info on the 12 disciples in my au. No I did not mean to make 12 it just sorta happened. I also want you to note that all but two had the same thought of "holy shit that's a child" when they met Eden and that's the main reason they decided to become followers in the first place to make sure he would be ok.
This is just some rough info to act as some backround
WARNING THIS IS LONG AS SHIT, MY APOLOGIES!
Starting off with canon(?) sort of characters we have:
-Webber, he/they/we: spider character from the game don't starve who was added during a collab to cotl. the youngest and a disciple in training. We first meet him at age 8 and is the last to come along. Life has been extended
-Haru, he/him: the yellow cat from the one animated short. Was a priest of leshys until he fought the lamb on a crusade and lost. Was brought back after realizing how much was censored about the slaughter of the sheep and asked if he could redeem himself. Age 24 and was the third last to become a disciple. Immortal
Now we have the not Canon characters who I have in my actual save file. I will also share their silly ridiculous names I have for them in game since I am atrocious at being serious.
-Mamer, he/him, has always been Mamer: a teal rabbit and the first follower and disciple of Edens. He was taken in by the compound that eden was born in and swore himself to protecting whoever was to become the prophesied lamb. Was captured by cultists a week before Edens execution and was about to be sacrificed when ratau and eden found him on the way to the compound. Taught eden how to fight and the traditional boxing style of the sheepfolk. Current grounds keeper. In game this man goes on hella missions and is responsible for at least 20 followers. Age 32, immortal.
-Clement, he/they, Friend Traitor in game: a big, surly orange tabby cat. He and his sister Cerise came as a pair and were found in the ruins of a village in darkwood, rummaging through their belongings to see if anything was salvageable. They had been taken temporarily on orders from kallamars clergy to aid in the construction of one of the wings of his temple. While they were away, their village started refusing to give anymore of their materials to the bishops so an attack was ordered on it. When they came back everything was gone. Both Clement and Cerise became disciples at the same time and became disciples second. Clement taught Eden how to build. Clements the head of the builders hut. In game they're just a silly feller with a silly name and I love them. Age 30, immortal
-Cerise, she/her, Amigo Treachery in game: a red and that's more magenta coloured. I said quite a bit of her backstory with Clement but the difference is that she runs the stonemines and lumberyard and taught Eden how to find and gather quality materials while on Crusading. She works in lumberyard mostly in game too but she also spends a fair amount of time at the shrine. Age 29, immortal
-Ellis, they/them, Taxes in game: a rosy maple moth and the third disciple. They were captured by helob while in darkwood and was a day away from being eaten when eden found them and bought their freedom. They had offered to walk Ellis back home but they had decided after working in Shamuras treasury for most of their life they didn't really have anything worthwhile to get back to and so decided to go back to the compound with the lamb and now work as the treasurer and tax collector. In game they're tax enforcer but otherwise kind of unremarkable. Age 34, immortal.
-Finley, she/her, Pæňïş in game (truly terrible name I'm so sorry girl): a raspberry colored raccoon and the fourth disciple along side Merrick, as they came in a pair. Both Finley and Merrick were apart on the Fox' cult and were cannibals for most of their lives. They only left after their fellow cultists turned against them while on a hunting trip. Eden found them an inch away from death and surrounded, and after killing the remaining heretics they took the two back to the compound to heal. After learning the two's story, Eden offered them a chance to redeem themselves and turn their lives around with the caveat that the cannibalism stops. They agreed and joined as followers, and earned their discipleship. Finley's the head cook and is the overseer of all the dietary restrictions, while her fellow workers take care of the compound at large. Despite the cannibalism she's actually quite lovely and very personable. Her and Merrick are just good friends and bonded after their mutual betrayal. In game I send her on missions quite a bit since her stats are good. Age 27, immortal.
-Merrick, he/him, originally Marth (my best friends a fire emblem fan and requested it. Personality doesn't match): a blue fox and the fourth disciple along side Finley. Backround info is above. He's sparky and snappish with a bit of a temper but is very good humored and lovely to be around. His job is the head butcher with a very lucrative side gig of disposing of dissenters. The lamb DOES allow the pair to partake in the occasional heretic or dissenter but by and large they both just eat regular meat now. His in game role is kept empty but he's usually the first to get to the drinkhouse when I need stuff made so there's that. Age 27, immortal.
-Azalea, she/they, was lovingly named *DJ sounds*, pronounced however the hell you want: a black koi fish and the fifth disciple. Originally from Anura and was apart of the lighthouse keeper cult. Was found calling for help just outside the cult after getting injured on the way home. Eden took them to the med bay to get patched up since the scope of the injuries was a little outside of their skill set and escorted them home once they were all fixed. They ended up going back with Eden anyway after they relit the lighthouse (they had been getting wood and Eden had firestarter on them). Her job is loyalty enforcer and assists the grounds keeper in keeping the place safe. Due to the decreased amount of heretics+high faith levels, they more just act as a welcome crew for new members and trains people in self defense. She's hard headed and blunt, and can be rude at times, but she has good intentions and has a soft spot for those close to her. Very sweet and patient with kids, less kind to adults. In the game she's also a loyalty enforcer and I desperately wish you could hide that fuckass hat. Age 28, immortal.
-Nimah, he/him, is Sonic because I had to: an albino hedgehog since I don't wanna make it SO obvious that it's just sonic. He is the sixth disciple and used to be a postman between all of the merchants and settlements outside of bishop control. He always wanted to be a doctor and kept an eye out for medical texts on his travels. He didn't have much luck in that regard until he came to deliver something to the compound and was kept there by a storm. Him and Eden got to chatting and after telling them about this little quest, Eden told him that while there's none at the compound that they could think of, they pick up books all the time while on crusades and could keep an eye out for any. One handshake and a new friend later, Nimah slowly studied and practiced to become a doctor until they got the title of head doctor. Taught some cultborn folks to do the mail route and now spends his days in the med bay. In game his only purpose is to be sonic and nothing else. His existence makes me happy :]. Age 53, immortal.
-Rowan, she/her, JAzz (I fucked up): a crow and the seventh disciple. Was a shrine maiden for Heket, and was trusted enough to be given the uncensored prophecy. After hearing it and making the very uncomfortable realization that they've all been praying for the downfall of a) an innocent race and b) a child, she dissented and fled to the cult to offer her services. Was a thief for a while, but was taken in by some followers of Heket and changed her ways. Was the second follower but had a hard time accepting the gift of discipleship for a while there. Very sweet and soft spoken, very good at quiet rage. In game she's on worship duty and is a very pretty lady and I love her. Age 30, immortal
-Florian, zey/zem/zer, named Alright in game: a silk moth and the eighth disciple. Was a primary weaver in Shamura's coterie for a good century. Zey were delivering tapestries to the main temple of Leshy when zer convoy was attacked by bandits and zey were left hiding and bleeding out. Eden found zem and took them back to their own temple since the med bay didn't exist at that point. When zey awoke, zey found zemselves bandaged in an unfamiliar place with someone they didn't recognize standing near them. Zey were suspicious until zey realized that that is a child zey were thinking of attacking, and that child is holding a med kit in their hands. Zey end up calming down and once zer'e healed, Florian offers to make a proper outfit befitting a vessel of death since zey don't like feeling like zer in debt. Eden agrees to this and they end up becoming friends, with Florian offering zer continued service in exchange for stable living. Zer personality is flamboyant but not loud. I personally imagine zer personality to be akin to one of those mob wives with the smoke pipe and the long satin feather robes. In game this fella was so unremarkable zey died of old age at level 1. Also zey get neos because I think they have so much gender that they/them simply doesn't cut it, although I understand if you use they/them for zem, it's a bit tricky to get used to. Age 33, immortal.
AND THATS A WRAP! Sorry for the length, some people are more thought out than others, not to mention I almost forgot a whole 2 people.
Their designs are coming soonish, I'm just trying to make some improvements with how I draw faces rn because Mamer looks like shit :[ I will get better and no one can stop me
#cult of the lamb#cotl au#cotl disciples#tgoe au#the garden of eden au#ough#this was a BEAST to type you have no clue#fanfic writers are so strong#im not built like that
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